Текст книги "Every Wrong Reason"

Автор книги: Rachel Higginson

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Two

29. I don’t know how to stop loving him.

I jumped out of the car, too nervous to hear him tell me no. I fumbled for the keys in my pocket and exhaled a whoosh of breath when I heard the car shut off and his door open and shut.

My fingers were still trying to work the keys in the lock when his body heat warmed my back and his hand settled low on my hip. His other hand covered mine with the keys and made them work for me, shoving the key into the lock and turning it.

We stumbled into the dark house, my feet causing the problems when they tripped on the rug. Nick caught me by squeezing my waist, yanking me back against his chest. My heart kicked into a gallop and my breath hitched in my chest.

His palm slid forward and splayed over my stomach, pressing hotly even through the layers of my jacket and long-sleeve tee beneath.

I could feel the hammering of his heart against my back, his ragged breath as it flowed in and out of him unevenly.

His head dipped until I felt his lips against my neck. “Kate,” he whispered and I shivered from the tickle of his mouth.

There was a pause between us as if the world stopped turning and time froze. I took in a breath and held it while I waited… waited for him to do something, to not do something, to turn around and escape.

That waited pause lasted an eternity. My fingers tingled from the fierce silence, the utter stillness. I thought I would die from anticipation.

Then everything burst into motion at once.

The keys jingled as he ripped them from the deadbolt and threw them on the ground. He slammed the door next, shaking the walls with his intention. I stood motionless, too afraid to move, too much of a coward to take what I wanted.

In the end, I didn’t need to take anything. Nick did the taking for the both of us.

His hand wrapped around my bicep and turned me to face him. My eyes were adjusting to the dark, but I didn’t get a chance to take him in before his mouth descended on mine, consuming me with his dizzying kiss.

His mouth moved against mine with a hunger that made me weak. I responded immediately, as desperate and greedy for him as he was for me.

He tasted me with his tongue, his teeth, his entire body. Everything about this kiss was designed to bring me to my knees with the weakness I still had for this man… the weakness I would always have for him.

His fingers fumbled with the zipper on my jacket, desperate to tear it off. I couldn’t form rational, cognizant thoughts through my haze of lust and exhausted emotions. I couldn’t do anything but feel and touch and give Nick exactly what he wanted.

But I also knew I wanted this.

Him.

I wanted him.

It had been so long. It had been too long.

Despite our separation, my body was used to having this man whenever I wanted. There was a sharp familiarity between us, an aching intimacy that could not be denied. I knew every angle of this man; I knew how his hipbones felt in my hands, the press of his naked thighs against the inside of mine. I could close my eyes and conjure him in seven years of intimate nights, lust in his eyes and perfect knowledge in his hands… in his body.

I couldn’t say no to this.

I couldn’t deny him tonight.

I needed him too much.

He succeeded with the zipper, growling in victory. He pushed it off my shoulders, turning it inside out in his fury to get it off me. Butterflies erupted in my stomach, flapping their huge wings with ravenous anticipation.

He kicked my jacket out of the way as he pushed me back against the door. I hit it with a thud, clutching his shirt for support.

He was too impatient for that. He didn’t care if I was settled or not. And I loved it. I loved his greedy hurry… his intense need.

“This,” he rasped, tugging at my shirt.

I helped him this time. We yanked it off together. My fingers went to the hem of his t-shirt. “This,” I mimicked. He ripped it off with one hand.

We collided again, both of us frantic to feel the other. My body pressed into his naked chest and I moaned from the feel of it. My arms wound around his neck and I plunged my fingers into the soft tendrils of hair at his nape.

“Nick, I can’t stop,” I whimpered.

“Don’t,” he ordered coarsely. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.” But then he did.

He pulled back and stared down at me. Even in the darkness, I could see the hunger in his eyes. He looked ready to consume me, to pull me completely into his body until we were one without question. Until I could never separate myself from him again.

I tilted my chin, knowing he would meet me, knowing he couldn’t help himself. Except he didn’t. I tugged on his neck, hoping to bring his mouth to mine, but he kept his distance.

“No.” I sucked in a breath as disappointment ripped through me. I abruptly wanted to cry. But then he said, “Not like this. Not here again.”

In the next second, he swept me into his arms, cradling me against him. I let out a squeak of surprise, grabbing for his neck again as he turned suddenly and headed for the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“Bed,” he grunted as he took the stairs two at a time. “Our bed.”

My eyes bulged. I didn’t know what to think about that. I felt like I should protest. Hot sex in our entryway, against the wall, that was one thing. We’d done that already. There hadn’t been any consequences.

Er, not many anyway.

But the bed. Our bed? That meant something different… something more.

I was just about to protest or suggest someplace else– like the kitchen table– when his head dipped down and he bit my nipple. I squeaked again, completely taken off guard.

His answering growl did something to my insides. Like melted them completely. His head dropped again and he licked me through my bra, soothing the small sting of pain.

He tripped on the last couple steps and nearly dropped me. He caught me just in time and steadied out, laughing at his clumsiness.

I found myself smiling when he tossed me on our unmade bed. I landed in a tangle of sheets and blankets, bouncing once.

He didn’t waste any time getting back to business. He tugged on my rain boots, throwing them over his shoulders. His palms rubbed a hot path up my thighs and flicked the button of my jeans off.

I watched him in complete fascination. He watched me just as closely. His eyes roamed over my body, eating up every inch of exposed skin. His searing gaze lit me on fire, turned my body into a panting, wanting mess.

I pulled the straps of my bra off myself. I couldn’t wait for him. I wanted him to see me like this. I wanted him to admire all of me. I wanted him to touch me… taste me… and never ever stop.

 When I reached around and unclasped my bra, then pulled it from my chest, his breath caught in his chest and he stared at my breasts as if he couldn’t look away, as if he would die if he did.

His mouth descended on my nipple and the moan I let out when his tongue came into contact with my skin was a sound I had never made before. I was sure of it. I had never been this desperate… this needy. I had never needed him so badly before. Needed him like I needed to breathe.

Needed him like I couldn’t live without him or his touch.

Or at least not in a very long time.

After he’d spent equal time with each breast, he stood up slowly, reluctantly. His eyes never left me, even while his hands had to. He worked his jeans off, then his boxer briefs.

He stood before me for a few heart-stopping seconds and it was my turn to take my fill of him. My heart stuttered in my chest and my fingers tingled with anticipation.

Had there ever been a more beautiful man?

I scooted back on the bed as he crawled over me, covering me completely with his length. He kissed my hip and I jerked from the sensation. His chuckle sent warm breath floating over me and I shivered again.

“So ticklish,” he murmured. His lips trailed over my abdomen and I tried not to wiggle. He kissed the place just below my belly button and then again before moving on.

His body hovered over mine like a feral animal, like some primal creature from a different world. He was so sexy, so incredibly enticing and oh so dangerous.

I couldn’t help but feel threatened by his power, his utter dominance of me. I couldn’t help but acknowledge that he was about to ruin me completely.

That I would never recover.

His mouth moved to my breasts again and I wiggled beneath him, suddenly hating the slow build. I needed this now. I needed him now.

I settled my hands on the sides of his face and begged, “Nick, please.”

He looked up at me, lust, hunger and something so much deeper reflecting in his darkened gaze. “Do you need me?” His fingers settled on the inside of my thigh, pushing it to the side.

His words made me breathless, left me gasping for some purchase on reality. I held his face in my hands and nodded, unable to speak the words.

He kissed my neck, my jaw, my lips. Then he pulled back so he could watch me while he pushed into my core, filling me completely with him.

My back arched off the bed and I wrapped my arms around his neck again, pulling his face to mine.

He took me wildly; he took me with savage need and unrelenting power. He took me in a way that proved he was just as desperate as I was. I could do nothing but wrap my legs around his hips and hold on.

Just when I thought we were nearly finished, just as I started to reach for that tingling cliff of perfect insanity, he slowed down. The abrupt change of pace surprised me and I tilted my hips, telling him what I wanted.

I needed him to finish. I needed him to keep his pace and never stop.

“Nick,” I whimpered.

“Kate,” he growled against my sweat-dotted neck. “Like this.” He took my arms and stretched them over my head. He held them there with one hand while he found leverage with the other. I could do nothing but hug my thighs tighter around his waist and offer up my control. “I need you like this.”

I thought he had been amazing seconds before, but this was something else entirely. I sighed in pleasure, my eyes fluttering closed, unable to stay open against the intensity of this moment.

He turned something desperate and greedy into something so achingly sweet I felt branded by it. He was leaving his mark, his name tattooed on my soul.

I gasped for breath as he worked us closer. He drew out each moment, making them all memorable, promising nothing else would feel this good or be this complete.

Nobody else would ever make me feel like this.

Nothing else could reach this absolute height of ecstasy.

When he finally pushed me over the edge, my entire body trembled from the force of it. He followed after me, chasing the same blissful blindness I still quivered with.

He collapsed on top of me, his skin heated and slick with sweat. We were stretched out on our bed diagonally in a sleepy tumble of limbs. His hand settled on my bare abdomen and his nose trailed up the line of my jaw, teeth nipping playfully, lips kissing, tongue tasting.

“God, we’re good at that,” I teased.

He replied with a drowsy, “Mmm…”

I snuggled closer to him. He shifted back and I missed the touch of his body immediately. The emptiness between us was too big, too cold. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me to him before I could panic.

We adjusted on the bed until his chest nestled against my back and his arms hugged my middle, holding me to him with a tightness that made me feel safe and satisfied. My eyelids drifted close and the exhaustion from the day, from Annie’s accident and from the most mind-blowing sex of my life caught up to me all at once. I couldn’t fight it anymore.

I knew there were things to talk about. I knew doubt would find me in the morning, quickly followed by regret and probably fresh heartbreak. But I physically couldn’t make my mind worry about that right now. I couldn’t make myself care.

Sensing I was slipping, he leaned over me and rubbed his roughened scruff against my check. I felt myself smile, but I couldn’t make my eyes open.

“Kate,” he coaxed in a tone that dripped with contentment and amusement. “Katie,” he whispered. “We need to talk.”

“Mmm,” I agreed. “In the morning.” I wouldn’t ruin this. Not tonight. This had been too perfect… beyond perfect. This had redefined the entire meaning of perfect for me and I refused to give that up tonight.

“Katie,” he murmured. “This changes things.”

I yawned. I was past the ability to speak. Sleep took hold and pulled me under, sending me into the peaceful slumber of relaxed dreams and the wonderful feeling of the most beautiful man’s body entwined with mine.

I woke up once during the night. I blinked awake on the wrong side of the bed with Nick’s arms still holding me to him and his legs, hot and heavy, slotted between mine. His head had pulled back from mine, presumably so he could breathe without my hair suffocating him in his sleep, but I could still feel the steady beat of his heart on my back and his hips tucked against mine, fitting exactly right.

I had a sharp, concentrated moment of panic as the reality of our actions set in. Ice cold lucid thought jerked me awake and kept me there. I felt hysterical laughter bubble in my chest, but I swallowed it down.

How did this keep happening to us?

And why had I ever thought it was a good idea for him to sleep over?

There might actually be something wrong with me.

I lay as still as possible, terrified of waking him. I tried to talk myself through my meltdown, tried to rationalize and reason my way out of it. But I couldn’t.

What we did was going to permanently screw things up between us.

We had mediation in three days.

Oh, my god, he was going to bring up the possibility of being pregnant again.

I thought I would be sick.

I focused on the night sky. I hadn’t closed my blinds tonight because Nick and I hadn’t really been thinking about those things. The stars spread from one side of my vantage to the other, glittering like diamonds on a background of onyx and indigo. The crescent moon hung like a pendant in the middle. Its milky glow stretched and spun in the tranquil sky, turning wispy clouds to gold. I concentrated on those things.

I steadied out my breathing, letting the calming rhythm of Nick’s heart soothe me back to sleep. His body was deliciously warm. He’d covered us with the comforter after I fell asleep and our mingled body heat had become something extreme, but it felt amazing.

He felt amazing.

Choosing to put off my panic till morning, I closed my eyes once again and drifted off.

By the time I woke the second time, he was awake behind me. I could feel his body twitching, his general awakeness intruding on my slumber.

I blinked at the same sky that had sung me to sleep the night before, but the moon and stars were gone, replaced by a soft violet and dusky gray. The sun hadn’t risen yet. It was still very early. But Nick was awake and I knew, before I’d even opened my eyes, that our night was over… that it was time to face our actions.

I let myself stir and stretch lazily against him. I couldn’t quite give this up yet. Just a few more minutes, I promised myself.

“Happy birthday, Kate,” he said with his sleep-roughened voice. His fingers surprised me by lightly running down my hip. “How did you sleep?”

How did I sleep? It was probably better if I didn’t answer that question. It would only confuse both of us. Instead, I dropped my hand over my mouth and mumbled, “I need to brush my teeth.”

“Me too,” I could hear the grin in his voice. “But we’ve been married for almost eight years, Katie. Can’t it wait another minute?”

Still hiding my mouth, I narrowed my eyes and demanded, “Why?”

“We should talk.”

“Why?”

His low laugh vibrated in his chest. “Last night…”

“Was a mis-”

The tension that rocketed through his body was so strong that I fell silent before he could cut me off. “Don’t say it.”

“Nick-”

“Goddamn, Kate” he muttered. “Are you kidding me?”

I scrambled to sitting, yanking the covers with me. We were both starkly naked and I flushed from head to toe, realizing I was about to launch into an argument with him while I wasn’t even wearing underwear.

There was something wrong with my mouth that it just couldn’t shut up and be quiet.

But I couldn’t listen to what he had to say either. I couldn’t go through that just because my boobs were everywhere.

“We’re in the middle of a divorce!” I pointed out. “We have mediation in three days, Nick! What were we thinking?”

“Maybe we thought the divorce was a stupid idea. Maybe we thought we couldn’t keep our hands off each other!”

I sucked in a gasping breath and swayed with dizziness. I couldn’t… I couldn’t grasp his words. I couldn’t make them concrete thoughts and ideas in my head. They danced in the air outside of my reach, taunting me... laughing at me.

“Is that what you think?” I asked breathlessly. For a second I thought I might faint. I shook my head, desperate to find my senses. “Do you think the divorce is a stupid idea?”

His shoulders fell with defeat. “It was your idea, I… I just…”

My emotions took a sickening twist and my head spun again. “You’re blaming me?” Hot tears pushed against my lashes. “This is my fault?”

“I’m not blaming you,” he stated firmly. “I’m just trying to think. God, Kate, there are times when I think you hate me. When I think you would do anything to get rid of me. And then… then there’s last night. And all of the other times like it. I have never been more alive than when I’m with you.”

I sat up straighter. “Nick, you’re still blaming me. I’m the reason we’re getting a divorce. I’m the reason we don’t work! I’m the reason your life is miserable or not miserable or I don’t know what! Was last night all my fault too?”

He abruptly sat up. The blanket fell to his lap, hiding his important bits but exposing inches of smooth, muscled skin. His tousled chestnut hair fell over his forehead as he leaned into me. He had never been more beautiful, an angry Adonis rampaging for vengeance.

“I’m not blaming you for everything. I’m… I’m trying to make sense of this. And I need you to figure out what the hell you want. Is it me, Kate? Or is it this?” His arm flung wide, gesturing at the room. “Without me?”

“We’re in the middle of a divorce,” I repeated, but this time it was broken. This time it held the years of pain and hurt and heartache. “We’re in the middle of a divorce.”

He jumped from the bed as if it burned him to share the same space as me. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.” He gave me his back and naked bum and tore into the closet. I watched in horror as he opened drawers, then slammed them closed.

Tears streaked down my face, wetting the sheets I held tightly around my torso. “What are you doing?”

“Going home,” he growled. “Then I’m going to shower. Then I’m going to work.” His eyes flashed to mine, searing me from where he yanked on old running shorts. “What are you doing?”

“Nick,” I sobbed. He waited. He stood there in his shorts and tousled hair, his jaw ticking with anger and pain and scars that I gave him, scars that I ripped open, and he waited for me to say what it was I wanted to say. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

I winced with frustration. “For this.” I waved at the room. “For the divorce.” I sniffled back a flood of tears. “For last night.”

He stalked into the room, his feet moving with determination and his body so filled with tension I felt it vibrating off him in waves. He hovered over the edge of the bed. I could smell him. I could almost touch him. His voice pitched low and serious. “I’m not sorry,” he declared. “Not for any of it.”

He gave me one more scorching glare, then turned around and left. His loud footsteps took the stairs at a clipped pace. There was silence for a minute and I could picture him yanking on the rest of his clothes. Then the door opened and slammed behind him.

I was alone– truly alone. And all I wanted to do was chase him down and drag him back to my room. I wanted to lock him in here until these feelings went away, until this fissure in my heart stopped tearing me apart.

I broke down and cried after that. I cried for a very long time. Then I called into work, explaining about my dog, but not about my husband.

Then I lay down again and cried all the way through my birthday.

Eventually, the vet called. Annie made it through the night. She was going to be okay.

But even Annie’s good news couldn’t soften the blow to my heart or the eclipsing truth that I’d made a very big mistake.

If only I could figure out which of my mistakes was the right one to regret.

Last night?

Or the divorce…?