Secret surrender, p.18
Secret Surrender, page 18
Sarah drew back, an ache hitting her square in the chest. Sure, she had a reputation for keeping to herself, but she’d spared Ally a likely horrible night, hadn’t she? She peered around her, at the dozen or so patrons still staring at her, this whole public scene defying her comfort zone.
Maybe Ally’s frustration didn’t make all that much sense, but there wasn’t any point talking this out in the heat of the moment. So, she eased back farther, nodding and conceding defeat as Ally turned her tear-streaked face and stormed away.
Thirty-One
Dean held his front door open, his words momentarily lost as Sarah stared up at him, a thick layer of sweat beading her forehead, and the late evening overly quiet behind her. “What’s happened?”
“Honestly?” She pushed past him, leaving him to once again wrestle with the idea of just how many people in these parts were comfortable moseying into his home. “I don’t know what happened. Only that I thought I was helping Ally, and she just flipped out at me for all my trouble.”
He pushed the door closed and followed her in, where she kicked off her shoes and sprawled across his couch. For a woman so hesitant to call herself his girlfriend, she sure acted like one. At least when it came to making herself comfortable in his space. “I think I’m going to need more to work with than you tried to help, and Ally flipped.”
“Just some out-of-town college boys, probably on some drunken road trip.” She flopped her elbow over her brow, as though blocking the room’s mellow light from her eyes, or maybe even just escaping having to look at him as she spoke. “They were being disgusting, and I told them as much. Except, Ally had her eye on one of them and seemed inordinately crushed when he did the predictable thing and bailed from Maynard’s without her.”
“Right.” Dean lifted her legs off the couch and squeezed in beside her, depositing her feet back on his lap. That she’d come here for his support and the casualness of this exchange provided something he’d craved his entire life, but been deprived of for just as long.
A short silence drew out, and she dropped her arm from her face and half-sat, staring at him. “You know something about this that I don’t, don’t you?”
“I do know something about this.” A slow grin tugged at his lips, just as her eyes narrowed into a scowl.
“And are you going to tell me?”
“Nope.”
She growled and flopped back onto the couch. “Fine. But why does it seem like I’m always in the dark on everything lately?”
He let out a sigh, more annoyed at himself than her. No doubt the “darkness” she referred to was in part about the mountain of secrets he consistently backed away from telling her. So now he was left with guilt piled on top of his annoyance. “Look, it’s not my place to tell you about Ally’s business, okay? What I will tell you, though, is to cut her some slack.”
“What about her cutting me some slack?” She turned to him again, her stare direct in a needling sort of scrutiny. “Why do people around here assume their tantrums and harsh words never bother me?”
“Because you generally don’t act like things bother you.” He shrugged.
Her stare held him, though the slight upward curl of her lips suggested she understood his point. “And what about when they do? What if, on the rare occasion, things do bother me?”
“You’re never shy about telling people what you think, Sarah.” He tucked his palm under the hem of her pant leg, rubbing her smooth skin, skin that had a gentle warmth snaking through his body, reminding him just how much he never got enough of this woman. “Maybe it’s time to establish some new rules. Start with asserting how you’d like people to behave around you.”
Her attention dropped to his hands now on her shins, and she took in an audible breath, her eyes fluttering shut, like she appreciated the attention on what would be tired muscles from hours of standing. “You know, there’s a certain responsibility that comes with being this town’s unfeeling robot.”
He gave an unintended scoff, one he restrained from becoming a full-bellied laugh. “I’m sure there is. Though, I guess you could always quit.”
“I know.” She let out a sigh, still seemingly enjoying the miniature massage, her eyes closed. “I know.”
“I get the feeling I’m not supposed to ask why you haven’t yet.”
She gave a tight laugh and flopped back, resting fully into his couch. “Because I’m an unfeeling robot, remember? See how this all works? It’s a vicious cycle.”
“But one you could stop.” He held his hand still, vying for more attention, or maybe another clue as to her motivations. “So, why haven’t you?”
She flung her eyes open and pinned him with a critical stare. “You speak from experience, do you?”
That stare of hers, daring him to come out with some truth too—about himself—a dare they both knew he wouldn’t take up.
He looked away, the strain across his chest growing, a thickness taking up space in his throat. Of all the people he’d ever known, she was the one he lied to most, even though she was someone he didn’t want to lie to at all. “Not experience. More like, it’s something I’m also hoping is possible.”
“Sounds like a story I’d like to hear.” Her gaze softened somewhat, hinting at empathy, though she’d probably deny having any at all.
He raised a brow, his silent way of telling her to dream on. “You’re not the only one who gets to be stubborn here. All I’m saying is, if you don’t like how people perceive you, maybe it’s time to shift their focus. Maybe shift a few of the things you’re doing too.”
“Please, tell me more, oh wise one.” She gave a genuine laugh, her gaze lighting upon him while she prodded his hand, signaling for the massage to continue.
He reached over and tapped a finger to her forehead, his way of acknowledging her silliness, something she seemed to unleash more and more around him these days. That levity something he, too, needed more of. Yet another laugh escaped her, and he fought to stay on topic and not lift her into his lap and distract her in other ways.
“You don’t flinch to accept the hard stuff. For one, your willingness to step aside with Blaine and Emilia. But when it comes to something that’s just for you, you hesitate, Sarah.” He rubbed her shin again, emphasizing his point and giving her what she’d asked for all at once. “Let Ally deal with Ally, and you deal with you, and I…” He leaned over and pulled her to his lips. “I’m more than happy to deal with you too.”
“I’m sure you are.” She pressed her lips to his, her tone lowered, warm and husky, despite her sarcasm. “But maybe I am a coward.” Her voice wobbled almost imperceptibly, and she leaned back. “Maybe it’s not so easy to switch off the parts of me that want constant and total control.”
The pain in her words had him caving to his desire to pick her up, to lend her an ounce of his strength, so she could take a break from using her own. He shifted her into his lap and cupped her face, making sure her focus held him and only him, glad that someone in this world seemed to need him. “Do you remember that day by the side of the road? How I kissed you and you told me never to do that again?”
She gave a small nod, her breath stalling and her wide stare not leaving his.
“We’ve kissed and done just about everything else since then. We talk and see each other almost every day. All of that takes trust. Maybe not as much as either of us want, but you know how to give, Sarah, and—” an uncontrollable smile broke from him “—I bet I can get you to do it again.” He pulled her closer and kissed her now, soft and slow, but still all too fast for his liking. “And again. And again. And again…”
She laughed and slapped a hand at his shoulder, laughing some more. “I see how you turned my misery to your advantage there.”
“Very clever, right?”
Through her smile, she bit down on her lower lip and nodded.
He leaned in. “I’d prefer to call this taking mutual advantage.”
She groaned, his excitement growing as she captured his lips and initiated the next kiss, confirming his theory that she was nowhere near as unfeeling as she pretended, her long fingers raking through his hair as she made those feelings blatantly known.
No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t be honest about his past—or not-so-past—if Luciano and the syndicate still looked for him. Perhaps her courage did scamper away at times when it came to intimacy, but maybe he could help her there, give her the chance to find some freedom before she learned the truth and rightfully dumped his ass…
And one day, yet another man will benefit from my missing out…
He swallowed back the pain in that thought, of her moving on, and this thing between them ending.
“There’s something I want from you. Something you’ve never let me do.” He stroked a thumb over the curve of her hip, drawing light circles over the exposed skin there, aware he teased her with his words and his touch. A tease designed to softened her toward what he wanted to say next, making him the one to ask too much now.
“Let me love you, Sarah Overton.”
Thirty-Two
Every muscle in Sarah’s body tightened at the strum of Dean’s touch. His hand over her hip. That soft caress coaxing her to soften—as did her straddled position in his lap—even though a deeply embedded sense of restraint pleaded with her not to give in. But she wanted to. She so wanted to…
“Let me love you.” His repeated and imposing words made adrenaline course through every one of her fragile nerves, his gentle kiss on her lips weakening the sting just a little.
She’d let a man love her before, but look how that turned out…
Blaine left me for Emilia, didn’t he? But heck, had I really loved him too?
She squeezed her eyes shut, that whole situation too complex for her to work through right now.
“When I kiss you, I want it to be more than physical.” Dean’s easy tone smoothed her jagged edges once more, bringing her back to him, her chest sagging into his, his breath a hot summer’s breeze over her neck. “I want all of you.”
Her breaths stilled to short sharp intakes and heat pooled in her lower regions, defying her logic and overriding ten years of reason.
“Every last snarky word of yours, Sarah.” His lips caught hers again, only to escape all too fast. “Every frightened thought. I want to hear it. As much as I try, I can’t resist you and I want you to feel the same about me.”
Her heart clenched so hard she feared it might implode altogether. The sneaky devil had her already and he knew it, but he didn’t know what he asked for… Or maybe he did. And if he did, then he knew that he asked for the impossible. Not because she didn’t feel those same things for him, but because she would have to give up far too much of herself to allow those feelings to run free.
“I want to.” The words rushed from her mouth, and she moved to say more, only the slow shake of Dean’s head halted her ability to speak.
“Don’t let the next word be, ‘but’. Can we just leave it at you want to?” The deep dip of his brow and his unrelenting stare spoke of his need to avoid disappointment.
Except, the tentative shift of his gaze over her face, that subtle but desperate search for another clue. Well, that gaze made her think maybe her initial impressions about him being an unbreakable tough guy were all wrong. That Dean Holloway’s heart was capable of breaking. Much worse, that she could be the one to break it.
She pressed her lips together for a quick moment and jolted in an attempt to restrain a manic laugh. He’d come to the wrong woman if undying love and fluffy feelings was what he wanted.
But the tight clenching around her heart changed her protest to something lighter, more accepting. She wasn’t one for “fluffy” feelings, but she wasn’t a monster either. So, she blinked a few times to ease the sudden hot prickle behind her eyes—an unusual sensation—and gave him a quick nod.
We’ll leave it at “wanting”.
And just to soften things further, she lifted her hands and allowed her fingers to glide over his broad shoulders, her fingertips catching the short hair at the base of his neck. She’d fought her impulses long enough. The fire of his skin demanded she melt on every level, as did his words, and she yielded to that demand as she crushed her lips over his.
He met her desire blow for blow, his hands pressing into her back as he stood, and her arms latched around him for purchase.
Maybe he was right. She’d shelved so much of what she wanted, so much she left unexpressed, all to maintain a semblance of non-existent peace. Boring peace that required too much sacrifice.
Her version of peace had stolen her dreams. It had kept others from dealing with their issues. Ally included. Maybe this once she could try something different. Lay claim to her desires and see where that different took her.
Dean pulled his lips away. He stood in his bedroom with her wrapped around him, her legs locked around his waist. His gaze held her too, the steadiness of that stare seeming to read her change, allowing her time to have no doubt about what she wanted. No-holds-barred passion. No hidden agendas. Even though they still hid so much from each other.
Her blood raced at the imperfection of it all, when for so long all she’d wanted were things that were tangible and easy to answer. Maybe Sarah Overton can be someone more. Less a woman who people tiptoed around, more strength and fragility. Completely herself. Someone who wanted and needed others. Okay, less others, more one man in particular… Imagine that…
He carried her the few steps to the bed and lowered her to the mattress, the soft crush of sheets rustling in her ears. The hot press of his lips hit hers again, his stubble adding a prickle to her skin, one that sent need sweeping through her body.
The taste of his kiss matched the spicy, warm scent of him, and she groaned and surrendered to the sumptuous fever taking over, his kisses now tracing a path down her jawline.
“You smell like a bar.” His teasing words skimmed her ears, his strong fingers making a mockery of the buttons at the front of her work shirt.
She gave a lazy chuckle. “And I can’t even say I enjoyed a drink.”
His deep chuckle joined hers. “I’m willing to drink for two.”
His wide palm swept her shirt open and claimed her left breast from under her flimsy cream lace bra, his thumb brushing her nipple, drawing from her a hiss.
He’d touched her like this so many times before, but something changed here. The ache around her heart. The gnawing within her tummy. She lay beneath him, deliciously caught, her entire being connected to his every move. She constantly waited for what would come next.
Next was him leaning in, pushing her bra straps down, her arms caught at her sides, his lips meeting with her opposite nipple.
As caught as she was, she couldn’t escape her assertive nature, and she bent her elbows and dragged her palms up and under his shirt, raking her nails over the hard surface of his waist.
His mouth countered her tease, his tongue enlivening her skin, his teeth nipping and scraping, and tightening her breaths so that she arched against him in a silent plea for more. And he gave more, that same hand rasping over her tummy and tugging at her jeans, his excitement protruding into her thigh.
She wriggled, helping him out, kicking the heavy denim fabric off her ankles and into a light thud on the floor. She figured he would touch her. Take away her frustration. But he merely sat back and took his sweet time staring at her.
He had a look on his face. A different air to anything she’d seen before. Like he didn’t know where to start with her. Or maybe he was a man used to losing the things he cared about, and he wanted to freeze this moment in time. Or maybe she merely projected her own feelings onto him.
Once again, the hot, prickly feeling gathered behind her eyes. What an odd reaction and what an odd hunch. Why did these thoughts assault her brain? And why did the notion of having a man genuinely love or care for her feel the same as standing above a sea of hungry sharks, one small mistake from being devoured?
She gave a small gasp. A gasp that skirted far too close to a sob, as though just the potential of falling for someone, truly falling, could break her heart.
She didn’t want to think about that.
Didn’t do falling, much less love.
At least, not the untamed kind that Dean wanted.
Best to move on to the one thing they always agreed on.
She rose to her knees before him and removed the last of her underwear, then reached up and helped him lose his clothes too. His lips found hers, but still things were different, quieter, less hurried, like every detail and second mattered. Like the moment might grow wings and flutter away…
He shuffled back, taking her with him and seating her on the edge of the bed where he knelt on the floor before her like a man at worship. She closed her eyes against the swell of emotion taking her over, his attention all too much—especially as the silence continued—and he kissed her again, wrapping her legs around him, as though he might soon enter her.
“Sarah.” His voice poured thick and low, husky with need. “Open your eyes.”
She did as he asked, vulnerability hitting her so hard her heart jolted at the sight of him. His expression was taut and serious, as if her every movement required deep and unbroken study, as if he needed to chronicle every passing second. As if he saw her. Only her. And perhaps that had been the case from the very first night they’d met.
He entered her now, slowly, one tentative and evermore penetrating thrust at a time, each move sucking the air from her lungs and forcing her to fold forward into his arms.
Despite her best efforts, her eyes slammed shut again, and he held her and entered her again. Reassuring. Commanding. Her breathless state something new and all-consuming. He was only just getting started, so unrelenting and unrestrained with his desire, her body bursting and awakening like never before, no man ever having left her so defenseless and somehow flourishing.
