Page 50 of Confessions
He was windblown, his face ruddy, his hair falling over blue eyes that were dark and dangerous. Without a jacket, he stood, hands braced on his hips, his features hard and set.
Since she was paralyzed, he pushed on the door and walked into the room. “I think we need to talk.”
“Didn’t we do enough of that already?” she taunted, and he caught her elbow, spinning her to face him as she tried to breeze past.
“We yelled at each other.”
“That’s how we communicate best.”
“Oh, no, lady, you’re wrong,” he said, his eyes catching the light of the fire. He kicked the door shut, and she visibly jumped. “We communicate best another way.” To prove his point he drew her into his arms and his lips settled over hers. He tasted of whiskey. The scents of tobacco and fresh air clung to him and he kept walking until her back was pressed against the wall.
She wanted to push away, but his supple mouth moved easily over hers, not hard and demanding as it had been earlier in the day, but hot and hungry, with a desperation that caused her blood to heat and her heart to pound. Her hands were placed flat against his shoulders, but she couldn’t shove him away; her strength seemed to seep from her.
“Nadine,” he whispered roughly as he lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. His hands moved upward to cradle her face and he kissed her again, so tenderly she thought she might cry. His fingers found the pins in her hair, and he gently tugged until her flame-colored curls, still damp, fell around her face.
His features were suddenly tortured, as if all his well-built barriers had tumbled to the ground.
“I told myself I shouldn’t come here.”
“I told you not to touch me again.”
“I can’t stop myself.”
“Willpower, Hayden,” she advised, though her own was flagging. She tried to concentrate on the hateful things he’d said this afternoon, to focus her anger at him.
He traced her lips with his thumb and she shivered. “I never forgot you. I tried. But I never forgot you.”
That was the alcohol talking. “You didn’t recognize me that first day.”
“You...” He touched her hair. “You’ve changed.”
“So have you. We shouldn’t—”
He pressed tender lips to hers, then lifted his head. “Where’re the kids?”
“Don’t worry, we’re alone, but...” Her heart twisted. “Hayden, this is wrong,” she forced out, her lungs tight, her skin beginning to tingle with his touch.
“It can’t be. It feels right.”
That was the truth, but Nadine was afraid the wine and Hayden’s sheer maleness had gone to her head. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t make him understand. “You said awful things.”
“So did you.”
The past reared its ugly head. “You didn’t call. Years ago, after the a
ccident, I waited, believing in you, but—”
“You didn’t visit.”
“I couldn’t...my folks...oh!” His lips trailed down the slope of her neck and his hands found the knot of her belt. Her abdomen constricted.
Stop him! Stop him now while you still can!
He slipped one hand between the folds of velour and cupped her breast. Her skin tingled. It had been so long...so painfully long. A soft moan escaped her throat as his thumb brushed over the tip and her nipple responded, puckering and causing an ache to spread deep within her.
“Hayden,” she murmured as he dropped to his knees, pulling her forward and off balance enough that she had to rest her weight against him in order not to fall. “Hayden, no...” But she didn’t stop him when the robe parted and his lips captured that waiting bud. Deep in the hazy recesses of her mind, she realized that she was naked, that the robe covered only half her body, that his strong hands were kneading the small of her back as he took more of her breast in his mouth and suckled. Heat swirled at the apex of her legs, and when he lifted his head, leaving her nipple moist to the cool air, she groaned.
He pressed his face into her abdomen and she felt liquid fire between her loins. Her legs seemed to spread of their own accord as he kissed the downy triangle below her navel. “Let me love you,” he whispered, his breath fanning that most sensitive part of her.
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