Rescue My Heart
Page 13

 Jill Shalvis

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They both settled and went still. The only sound was their breathing, which seemed far too loud. Long moments went by during which he counted the soft flakes falling out of the sky and lightly fluttering down just outside the opened doorway.
“Adam?” she whispered after a long moment.
He sighed. He didn’t want questions or a visit down memory lane. He wanted solitude and decompression. That’s what he’d always wanted. Except…Except in this moment, he didn’t know what he wanted. She confused the shit out of him, twisting him up, scrambling his brain. He had no idea why he even tried to control his feelings around her. Habit, he decided. He always maintained control, in every aspect of his life. It’s what had gotten him through.
His therapist had warned him that part of the process was learning to let go of that control. Easier said than done.
Not buying his possum act, Holly rolled over to face him, giving him a little jostle. “Adam.” She was peering at him in the dark, trying to see him.
Into him.
Usually just having her look at him the way that she did made every bad thing in his life dissolve into nothing. Now it made him unsettled. They were in far too close proximity for his walls to come tumbling down tonight.
Retreat…
Too bad there was nowhere to retreat to. Which meant he had no choice but to man up. “Yeah?”
She came up on an elbow and he braced himself. She wanted to understand him, the changes in him. He got that. But she couldn’t. She could never understand the places he’d been, the darkness he’d lived.
Her expression held uncertainty.
He should reach out to her, touch her, assure her. But he didn’t trust himself to do that, knowing all too well how easily he could lose himself in the physical attraction between them. He could bury himself deep inside her, finding a desperately needed release. But he would never allow himself to use her that way.
“I have a question.”
Great. “Okay.”
She drew a deep breath. “Why did you really let me come with you today?”
Ten
Holly held her breath for Adam’s answer. She wasn’t even sure he would answer. She didn’t know about him, but being this close was bringing back memories of other times. Better times. Times when they’d gone camping and been alone. But never with a barrier between them.
He spoke, his voice low and a little husky, as if he were filled with the same memories as she. “You weren’t going to ever forgive me if I left you back in Sunshine.”
“And you care why?”
Another pause. “I owe your father,” he said carefully. “And I owe you, too.”
Holly tried to read his face. Carefully blank. He was good at that. Hell, who was she kidding, he was the master at that. She knew he’d learned long ago that nothing good came of sharing his deepest, innermost thoughts, and that alone was enough to break her heart. There’d been a time where she would have given up her soul in order to allow his to be shared, but she’d long ago stopped believing she could get him to believe in her, in them, enough to let her in.
Why that still hurt, she had no idea. “You owe me nothing,” she said. “And my dad—”
“Believed in me when few others did,” he cut in. “He gave me a job when I was seventeen. And then after that drag-racing wreck, he helped me pay for an attorney.”
“The charges didn’t stick,” she started, but he shook his head
“They’d stuck in my head,” he said very softly.
She knew this. She knew all too well how much guilt and horror and regret he’d carried. But she also knew that even if that cop hadn’t died, Adam had never intended to be with her forever. The accident might have been the catalyst for him to leave, but he’d have left her regardless. “Adam—”
“Go to sleep, Holly. Tomorrow we’ll find your dad.”
Hoping that was true, she closed her eyes…and then came awake some time later to find that she’d completely disregarded her own decree. She’d rolled right over the bunched-up jacket and onto Adam’s half of the bedding.
And that wasn’t the worst part. She’d vacuum-sealed herself up against the delicious heat radiating off his body. Carefully, without moving a single inch, she took stock. Adam was flat on his back, innocent—which did not help her. Because she knew him, at least she had known him, and there wasn’t much innocence to him. There never had been.
But he was innocent now. It was she who’d climbed all over him.
He was asleep, his silky dark hair falling across his forehead, his body relaxed as she so rarely saw it. She lay there in the crook of his arm, one knee thrown across his legs, her hand settled disturbingly low on his belly, her position speaking of a deep, abiding trust. Trust in this man.
Taking in a breath and holding it, she began to slowly back off of him, but at her movement his muscles rippled like a big cat. His arms came up, pinning her in place, one big hand curled around her shoulders, the other sliding down her back to her butt, gripping a cheek with startling possessiveness. His breathing didn’t change, remaining slow and steady. The tortoise. Except he was more like a cheetah, wild and wily and sneaky as hell. She found his gaze locked on her in the barely there light. “Sorry,” she said, and tried to extract herself delicately.
He tightened his grip to stop her. He wasn’t smiling, but instead looked very serious. Pausing as if to gather himself, he flipped them so that his hard body covered hers. His mouth skimmed her cheek on its slow path to her mouth, giving her plenty of time to say no, but the word got lost in the translation from her brain to her lips. Instead, her body was screaming, Yes, yes, yes. “Adam.”
“You were feeling me up in my sleep.”
“No, I…”
He turned his head and his lips brushed the inside of her arm. Which, she realized, was wrapped tight around him, along with her other one.
She was holding on to him.
He nipped the skin he’d just kissed and she felt herself go damp. Dammit. “Okay, yes,” she said. “But I didn’t mean to.”
He dropped his head low enough to glide that oh-so-talented mouth along her jaw, down her throat, against the hollow of her collarbone. “We’ve both done a lot of things that we didn’t mean to,” he murmured.
She wanted to concentrate on his words, but his mouth was giving her an entire body shiver. “Don’t,” she whispered, clutching at him so he couldn’t escape. She closed her eyes. “Don’t toy with me.”
Above her, he went still. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” His breath was warm against her skin, and he dipped to taste, stirring up all kinds of fire within her. He met her gaze, his own dark and heated as he slid a hand down her leg, pulling it up, around his hip, which grinded into her.
He was hard. His mouth was warm, firm…perfect. Both familiar and yet completely new and exciting.
“Does that feel like I’m playing a game, Holly?”
Before she could respond, he traced a sensual line from her throat to her ear with his lips, teasing the outer shell before lightly sinking his teeth into the lobe.
She sucked in a breath and tightened her grip on him. Bringing up her other leg, she cradled his h*ps within hers, and her inner ’ho rejoiced.
Just this once, her body begged.
You’ll regret it later, her brain reminded her.
During this tug-of-war between her hormones and few remaining working brain cells, Adam’s fingers drew hypnotizing circles along her body and she helplessly arched up into him. Her body was winning the war. “Adam—”
His hand caressed along her cheek and wove its way into her hair at the back of her neck. Tilting her head up, he waited until she met his eyes, the air crackling with tension. “Are we going to stop?” he asked, voice thrillingly strained, chasing another shiver up her spine.
“No,” she whispered. God, no.
He held her gaze for a long beat while he seemed to wrestle with his own inner battle. Finally he leaned forward and brushed his lips to hers.
Her low moan gave him the access he needed and he deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking hers. She squirmed and wriggled, trying to get even closer. He rolled over her, never breaking the kiss as he cupped the back of her head, his thumbs stroking her throat.
She slid her hands beneath his shirt and over the smooth skin of his back, feeling the carefully leashed power of him beneath her fingertips. She wanted to unleash that power. She wanted that more than she wanted her next breath.
All this time, all these years, she’d never forgotten how he’d made her feel. And she’d wondered, had she done the same to him? Did he remember her touch as much as she remembered his? The truth was, she wanted him to. Wanted to remind him of how it had been. She wanted him to lose control with her, wanted him to wrestle hers away as well while he was at it.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d lost herself in passion and desire. She and Derek hadn’t been together in a very long time. There’d been a few men since, and it had been nice…but she wanted much more than nice. She wanted to completely let go, and she knew Adam could do that. Make her let go.
Her hands went south next, into the back of his jeans to the best buns she’d ever had the pleasure of gripping. When she pulled him into her, his mouth came down on hers—hungry and edgy and demanding. Surely one kiss couldn’t be all that, but this one was.
And she loved it.
Thrived on it.
She tugged at his shirt and he reared up to yank it off. “Careful of your shoulder,” she managed.
“What shoulder,” he said, and then went to work on her clothes.
“No, really,” she said. “You need to—”
He slid her sweatshirt up and her bra cups down, kissing and suckling his way from collarbone to breast.
“Um…” She struggled to hold a thought. “Careful not to strain your stitches—”
“Holly?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.” He pulled a nipple into his mouth and his big warm hand slid between her legs, and she completely forgot about his injury. Too many clothes, she thought dizzily. And either the man had the gift of reading her mind or he remembered her body with sharpshooter precision, because he had her completely na**d before she could blink.
A man on a mission.
But with the feeling of something cold and wet in her armpit, she squeaked. Adam lifted his head. “Milo, bed.”
Milo sighed at not being invited to the party and ambled back to his spot by the backpacks.
“He thought he was missing something good,” Adam said.
“He is.” Holly shoved his jeans down. Adam kicked them the rest of the way off and braced himself above her. He was hard against her inner thigh and she couldn’t wait another minute. “Please,” she whispered.
He made a low, innately male sound and dropped his forehead to hers. “Condom.”
She went blank. “Oh my God.” Had she actually, really almost forgotten protection? “You’d better have a condom. Tell me you have a condom!”
“I have a condom.” Rising, he strode buck na**d—and glorious—to his backpack, returning with a foil packet.
“Okay,” she said on a sigh of relief. “We can be friends.”
But though he slipped back beneath the sleeping bag, he didn’t make a move.
“Are we stopping?” she asked, mirroring his earlier words. “Because I don’t want to.”
His thumb traced her lower lip, and then he bent and sucked on it. “No. Not stopping.” He tore open the foil.
She took the condom from him, rolling it down his length while he watched. By the time it was on, they were both breathing unevenly again. Holly looked up into his face, feeling the flicker of unexpected nerves. For all of her adult life, she’d measured her sexual experiences against Adam. What if he didn’t live up to the memory? Then he slid inside her, and she gasped, helplessly rocking up into him because it was everything she remembered.
And more.
He stretched and filled her so perfectly that she couldn’t figure out how she’d ever lived without this.
Without him.
Except she hadn’t chosen to live without him. He’d chosen that for her, all on his own, without giving her a say. At that thought, reality might have intruded, pulled her out of the moment, except…
Except, braced above her, buried deep, Adam had gone perfectly still, eyes locked on hers, his usual stoic expression wiped clean, replaced with sheer unadulterated pleasure and need.
For her.
It was rare to see him so unguarded. Rare and…beautiful. “Adam,” she said, staggered by the emotion that swamped her.
“I know.” Bending low, he kissed her slowly, until she moved restlessly against him, wanting to feel him move in and out of her, needing that more than she could remember needing anything.
But Adam was right about one thing: somewhere along the way he’d learned patience. Lots of it. When she arched up for more, he merely held her still, gently nibbling her lip as she tried harder, clutching at him, crying out from the heat building between them.
Soothing her with a wordless murmur, he finally began to move, filling her to bursting, and she nearly climbed up his body trying to get even closer, closer than was physically possible. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she did her best to ride him from the bottom, but he kept up his torturous pace, driving her right to the edge before slowing again.
“Now who’s…playing?” she managed to grate out.
“Still not playing.” His voice was thrillingly low and rough as he thrust again.