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He took one unsteady step toward the bed. Then another. And before he could talk himself out of it, he dropped to his knees beside her. Scooped her into his arms, crushing his mouth onto hers. Shock at the touch of her naked flesh burned away in an instant, leaving only the overriding need to feel the steady beat of her heart against his own. The heat of her body easing the chill that had buried itself so deeply into his bones, he never thought to be warm again.
His hands shook as he caressed the smooth slope of her shoulders. Cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over the pearls of her nipples. Small moans broke from her as his lips teased her jawline, grazed her neck. To hell with the shimmering silks and flamboyant seduction of this afternoon, he preferred her naked, the scent of sex and desire rising off her more provocative than any perfume.
Surprise momentarily infused his lust as he noted the flame of her hair running over his hands, brushing his chest. She never left it loose. Braids. Combs. Pins. But today he’d caught a glimpse. And tonight, she’d left it free to flow like fire.
He dragged himself up long enough to ask, “Why?”
She caressed the long ridge of his scar, tracing the line of Charlotte’s maiming as if she traced the route on a map. “Because tonight, you need me.” He felt her shrug. “And because tonight, I need you just as badly.”
He laid her back on the bed. Stripped out of his breeks before rejoining her.
Her eyes widened, her gaze running over his naked body with a sensual intensity that set off a low quiver deep in his being. Her fingers came up to caress the taut muscles of his stomach. Skim the length of his erection. But he caught her hand, rubbing his thumb across her sword-calloused palm before linking his fingers with hers. Easing himself over her, their bodies matched height for height, crushed skin on skin.
“You’re frozen through,” she said, squirming beneath him.
“Better now,” he murmured.
She tasted like wine, her lips soft and velvety. He sampled, then devoured, his tongue sliding between her teeth, her whimper caught, then released into his mouth. He kissed her cheeks, the tip of her nose, nuzzled the curve of her throat.
“You can’t do this alone, Cam.” Her words gently spoken, but still carrying that hint of Morgan steel.
He met her gaze, flecks of gold burning through the dark whirlpool of desire. The corner of his mouth twitched. “It’s possible, but not near as much fun.”
That made her smile. She fondled a strand of hi
s hair, pushing it back off his face, her hands warm against his frozen skin. “We’re in this together. You need to ask for help.”
Where the hell had that come from? And why was Morgan bringing this up now of all the god-awful times? He wanted to forget. Not analyze. And, for God’s sake, not now. “I’m fine.”
Letting his exasperation fall away, he skimmed his hand down her side as his lips trailed a path down her neck. Across her shoulders. Over her breasts. Prayed she’d give up. Give in. Let the matter drop.
“You’re not fine. You’re not sleeping. Barely eating.” She shuddered at his touch, and her words came breathy and fast, but they came just the same. Accusing. A steady barrage of blame. “You’re surviving on coffee and nerves. You can’t last.”
He rolled off her, lust sucked out of him. Her words as effective as a cold bath. Was this her idea of sweet torture? Get him close to exploding and then knock him over the head with questions and finger-pointing? Well, if she wanted to play that game…“You really want to talk about this now?”
She stiffened under the checked anger in his voice, her gaze cautious “I…”
“Fine. We can talk about this. How about you?”
That got her. She sparked, answering his annoyance with her own. “What about me?”
“You hide behind that hard-nosed, approach-if-you-dare attitude. That’s not you, and you know it. It’s a disguise you’ve learned to use to keep everyone at arm’s length. To keep yourself from getting hurt when the man you fall in love with lies to you and breaks your heart.”
She shot up, the swirl of her hair cascading around her shoulders, falling across her breasts. “You never broke my heart.”
“Right.” He snorted his disbelief, knowing he’d effectively killed the mood, but now that he’d begun, he was bloody well going to finish. “I know how you felt because I felt it too. We were this close, Morgan.” His index finger and thumb were an inch apart. “But we let our pain and our pride get in the way.”
“If you’ll remember, it was your wife who got in the way.” She threw her legs over the bed. Stood, glaring down at him. No effort to shield her nudity. Instead she seemed to gather strength from that pose as if showing him what he was about to lose.
He sighed, suddenly wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. Paid lip service to Morgan’s worry and moved on. If he had, he’d be inside her right now. Not hard as a rock with nothing to look forward to but a cold bed and painful frustration. “Charlotte wouldn’t have been an impediment if we hadn’t let her.”
“This is about you.” But her words came less sure.
“It’s about us,” he replied. “Tell me you don’t want me when I do this.” He reached up to stroke his hand over her belly.
She stood rigid as a statue, her eyes shooting fire. “Stop.” But she made no attempt to move away.
“Or this.” He dared more. Covered her woman’s place with his hand, his fingers gently probing, knowing immediately she wasn’t as indifferent as she wanted him to believe.
