A Kiss to Build a Dream On (12 page)

She blinked. Her indignation returned in a blistering wave. “You have no right!” she cried, trying to sit up. “That was the stupidest, most meat-headed thing—”

“Enough.” The single word was spoken in a quiet, dangerous voice. Willa's words stopped in her throat. Burk's face was dark with anger, his muscles strained with emotion.

He leaned over her, his blazing eyes inches from hers. Willa's breath caught.

“You asked for my help,” he said, his tone gravelly and low, “and I agreed to assist you. But if you flit around recklessly, getting into things, then I—”

“Flit? Since when do I
flit
?” First of all, it was her house. And second, she didn't need a lecture on top of everything else.

“This home is old,” Burk continued, his enraged pulse visible in his neck, “and you can't just put on your explorer hat and race off to any dark corner you like. You could have been seriously hurt.”

It was then that Willa saw the fear alongside all the anger in Burk's eyes. It was just a shift—a small change—but it was there. He was scared for her. Her stint on the ladder had
frightened
him.

Because he cares
, she thought, her heart pounding.

“I…” She tried to think of something to argue with, something to say, but her mind had gone blank.

“Find me the next time you need something from the garage,” he growled, his barrel chest heaving. He pulled back, standing to his full height above her. Willa trembled on the bed, willing her brain to kick into gear. He was going to leave if she didn't stop him.

“What if I need something that's not in the garage?”

He ran a distracted hand through his ebony hair. “Well, then find me for that, too. The point is—”

“What if it's not in the house?”

His head shifted ever so slightly. She lost sight of the freckle underneath his right eye.

“Where else would you need something?”

Willa sat up. Her hands were shaking so much she had to clasp them together.

She needed to proposition him
now
. The only problem was, she was struggling to find the words. She was also having a hard time getting past the fact that there were wood chips in her hair and dust on her skin. And never mind the fact that they were surrounded by the décor of her childhood bedroom. The same butterfly border ran along the top of the lavender-colored walls, now faded and peeling. The same books lined the white case in the corner, now yellowed with age. The same basket with the same pink flowers rested near the window, now dusty and moldy. It had been a beautiful, lavish room for a teenager back in the day. These days, it was just old and tired, and Willa wanted so much to explain to Burk that she was sorry for all of it—for the way she'd left him, for the way she'd left this house, and wounded everyone around her.

Where had all her brazenness gone? Unclasping her hands, she did the only thing she could think of—she reached out and placed her fingers on the bare skin of his arm. The world flickered for a moment, shifting from the charge between them.

Burk's dark blue eyes darted to her fingers, then back at her face. His lips—such a steady line—broke just slightly.

“I might need
you
,” Willa said, hating the breathy notes in her voice. She wished she could be more forceful. More demanding.

She flattened her palm on Burk's skin. She could feel the soft hairs of his forearm, and the knots of muscle just beneath the skin.

Burk didn't say anything, but his sharp jawline flexed.

“It doesn't have to be anything complicated,” Willa continued, feeling a flush creeping up her neck. “Just us. Here and now. Nothing but the present.”

She sucked in a breath as Burk inched closer. “What are you saying?” he asked, his voice impossibly low.

Willa almost smiled. He
would
make her spell it out. His breath was hot on her skin. She feared she would melt into a puddle right there.

“You and me,” she replied, her insides shivering. “Let's put something else between us besides the past.”

Burk leaned in so far that she was forced to lie back onto the faded bedspread. His hands came to rest on either side of her head. His eyes stormed like a thousand blue waves. He kneed her legs apart, and she gasped as he eased himself lower.

“Like this?” he asked. “Is this what you want between us?” He shifted so she could feel the thick hardness of him. She closed her eyes at the shower of sparks that ignited her flesh.

“Yes,” she murmured. “
That.
”

She traced the sharp line of his jaw, loving the sensation of his rough stubble under her fingertips. He shifted again, pressing harder this time, and she tilted her head back.

Burk's mouth immediately found the soft skin just above her collarbone. He placed his lips there, working his mouth upward. His stubble rubbed a delicious coarseness along her skin.

By the time he reached her lips, Willa was nearly aching.
Oh God
, she thought,
I'm undone and he hasn't even kissed me yet.

He paused so long before putting his mouth on hers that Willa finally opened her eyes. He was right there—all fine lips and high cheekbones and dark hair. The rugged handsomeness of him made her chest hurt.

“I'm good at this part,” he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “But I can't say I'll be good for much else.”

Willa tilted her hips up just slightly, pressing against him. “That sounds just about perfect to me.”

Burk groaned, and met her thrust with one of his own. Willa shuddered with the hard pleasure of their grinding.

“So you want to bring this thing into the here and now?” he asked, his lips just inches from hers, his hot breath tickling her skin.

“Oh, yes,” she replied, her hands flattening on the broad expanse of his back. “Very much.”

His smile vanished as he bore his mouth down on hers in a kiss so searing, it left her seeing stars.

T
he roaring passion thundering inside his body was clouding Burk's thoughts. Had Willa seriously just propositioned him in her old bedroom, and had he really just accepted?

The primal drumbeat of his heart pulsed the truth, hammering harder as she emitted hot, breathy whispers underneath him.

Underneath him.

Holy Christ, was this really happening?

The creep of the shadows in her old bedroom was all so dreamlike—he might have believed his imagination was on overdrive, except that the
real
darkness was where his body fit against Willa's. They were perfectly contoured puzzle pieces, blocking out all light. And he might doubt her solidness beneath him, he knew, if he wasn't already flat-palming her ribs, running his hands along her sweet-smelling skin, and lifting her shirt over her head.

Her top free, Burk took in the curves of her flesh, and all remaining doubt about what they were doing vanished. Her lovely breasts molded perfectly to the contours of her plain white bra. It wasn't the searing pink or leopard-print pattern of the women he was used to. It was practical. It was so unlike the Willa he remembered that he grinned.

Willa turned her head away when she saw his reaction, and he realized she must think he was laughing at her. His muscles tensed. He would never make fun of her exquisite shape, her beguiling scent—all the things that were so uniquely
her
. Especially not when he'd told himself he'd forgotten all about them, when in reality he'd just locked them away for twelve years. Now they were out of the cage of his memory, threatening to overtake him.

But instead of saying any of that, he lowered himself and took her mouth, driving himself headlong into the feel and taste of her. She responded eagerly, wrapping her legs around him, plunging her fingers into his hair and pulling him closer still, as if she couldn't bear to have even an atom of space between them.

Reaching behind her, he deftly unhooked the bra and threw it to the side. Her exposed breasts were twin mounds of perfection—pale and rosy-tipped—and he cupped them in his calloused hands. They felt fuller than he remembered—more womanly and sensual somehow. He had never seen a more exquisite pair. Willa breathed a soft “Oh!” as he delicately squeezed each nipple. They hardened underneath him, perfect rosebuds on her skin. He lowered his lips to one sweet peak, then another, sucking gently.

He pulled back briefly, needing suddenly to stare into the depths of her green eyes. Willa met his gaze fully, but he could see she was blushing.

“What?” he asked, palming one breast.

“I've—I've gained weight. You don't have to pretend I haven't.”

The tension in his body returned again—a painful tightness he didn't altogether understand. Why would she think she was anything but beautiful? He wondered angrily if someone in New York had made her self-conscious. If so, it was criminal. Her body was a series of lush curves any man would want to lay his hands on.

But all Burk could do was shake his head. “No,” he growled, lowering his head to the rounded flesh of her belly, running his tongue along her skin until she moaned.

Willa's hands dug into the skin at his shoulder blades. “Your shirt,” she said huskily, “off.”

He left her skin for a moment in order to whip off his shirt and toss it to the ground. Willa pressed her chest against his now bare one. The feel of so much skin on skin had him coiled with desire.

Her fingertips left a wake of fire along his skin as she traced his muscles—from his chest to his shoulders, down his arm and back again. Finally, when he couldn't take it, he crushed her beneath him with another kiss.

Her hands left his skin to fumble with his pants. “I can't—get the—”

Burk lifted his hips so her fingers could slide between them and undo his jeans. She shoved them down, and he kicked them off.

Her hand found the hardened length of him immediately. The spark of her fingers against his sensitive flesh was so intense he nearly recoiled.

“
Mmm.
” Her voice was husky with an emotion he couldn't place. “
Yes.
”

He worked his lips along the underside of her lovely jaw, while she stroked him in long movements that threatened to shatter his composure. He was going to lose himself in her touch alone. It would be like high school all over again when he tried so desperately to control himself but wound up with wetness in his jeans instead.

Grabbing her wrist, he removed her hand from his penis and pinned it behind her head. With his other hand, he unbuttoned her pants and worked them downward. She shimmied and twisted underneath him until her clothes were in a pile at her ankles.

Burk raised himself so he could see the impossible expanse of Willa Masterson. Back in her bed. With him.

The naked length of her brought to mind cream and sugar and sweet fruit. His mouth watered, imagining the taste of her—
everywhere
.

Willa bit her lip, seeming to shrink from his gaze.
Embarrassed
, he realized again. He could feel his brows knotting with confusion and frustration. He wanted desperately to tell her how lovely she was, how much he wanted her, but his throat was closed shut. Burk Olmstead didn't talk that way to women.

Ever.

So instead he took out his fury on her body, parting her legs and finding the center of her quickly. Too quickly. Her eyes went wide as he plunged a finger into her wet depths. “Oh,” she breathed, tensing.

Burk's heart constricted. He didn't want to rush this. He wanted to enjoy her, to languidly kiss and press and thrust against her—hearing her moan and cry out and whimper—for the rest of the afternoon. Only he found himself rubbing her center with hurried strokes that left them both wanting. Willa's eyes were dark with confusion. What was he doing? It was too fast, too hard—and they both knew it.

Burk placed his mouth on hers and tried to slow down. He tugged on her lips with his teeth, pulling gently, and she sighed against him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she whispered his name. “Burk.”

Tenderness flooded him. He squeezed his eyes against it, trying to shut it out. This wasn't what he'd signed up for. He hadn't anticipated feeling so goddamn
much
with her. Not meeting her eyes, he spread her legs wider and settled between them. Her neck arched as the tip of his penis pressed against her warm, wet entrance.

Oh, God. He wanted this. He wanted to spend hours here, coaxing out passion in waves that would overtake them both.

Except that her vulnerability, her misplaced bashfulness—it was unraveling him. He didn't like it.
Burk Olmstead did not get unraveled.

So instead he plunged inside her depths, and she cried out when his thickness filled her up so suddenly. She gasped, her face flushing with equal parts pain and pleasure.

Burk could only grunt at the softness all around him. She was so perfect, and he desperately wanted to savor the moment, the sensation of being inside her, their bodies joined once again after all this time. It was once so sweet and innocent—and this time it could be sweet and sensual, if he'd let it.

Willa placed the palms of her hands against his skin. The gentleness was too much. He wouldn't look at her. He was racing against his own heartbeat, trying to finish what they'd started so he didn't have to think about her anymore. Specifically, how much he found himself caring for her.

He tensed, wishing all this feeling for Willa would go away. That all this raw
emotion
would just vanish. He hadn't signed up for this.

“Burk,” Willa breathed. At the sound of her voice, he found himself relaxing, melting into her in spite of all his misgivings. His whole body shuddered at her impossible tightness, the perfect wetness between her legs. It reminded him of their first time together, and he wondered how long it had been since she'd been with someone.

He ground his teeth and closed his eyes, telling himself he didn't care about her past. Who she'd been, who she was. He wanted her right here, right now. And that would be it.

Wouldn't it?

He grasped her buttocks and pulled her toward him, as deep as he could go. She cried out, her voice reverberating through him. Desperate to fill her, to bring her to climax, he pulsed against her flesh. Willa's fingers ground into his skin, and he savored the bite of it. He focused on the pain to keep from spilling himself too early. Better to think about that than the fact that she'd been back for weeks now, and he'd never even asked her what life in New York had been like. He'd never even asked what
happened
.

The brass headboard slammed against the wall with the sound of a repeating gunshot. Underneath him, Willa was a nymph, shifting and coaxing, giving and getting. He wanted to be unmoved, but Burk was undone at the breathtaking sight of her tumbling hair and her flushed skin. She was radiant with pleasure, and he could feel the same sensation wracking his own body. Christ, if being together as teenagers had been good, this was the edge of heaven itself.

And then Willa was crying out his name on her incredible lips once more. The sound of it constricted his heart so much that he put his lips over hers. She pulled him closer still, whimpering as she climaxed. Locked together, the power of her orgasm overtook them both. “Willa,” he whispered involuntarily. She clutched him harder as her center massaged and contracted all around him.

He kissed her again, just as a molten-hot burst of pleasure seared his nerves. She writhed underneath him, pulling every ounce of sensation from his body. Bold colors exploded behind his eyelids. For a few moments, he lost himself inside her.

And then he wondered what in the world he was doing.

Pulling back, he took in Willa's flushed face, her sated eyes, her lips twisted into just the tiniest smile.

“My God, I needed that,” she purred.

Burk tore his gaze away, fearful she'd glimpse the river of emotion coursing through him. Tenderness. Affection. Compassion.

Except that wouldn't do. Burk wasn't about to let himself feel anything for Willa. At least nothing beyond the acknowledgment that she'd given him a good lay.

Rolling off her, he tried to convince himself everything was fine. They'd had sex. They'd put something between them besides the past—and that was what Willa had wanted. He'd accepted her offer and that was that.

“Thanks,” he said, working to keep his voice flat and even.

The bed shifted as he sat up and began pulling his clothes on wordlessly. The late-morning shadows deepened, darkening both the room and his mood further.

“What, you're leaving? Right now?”

Burk could hear the subtext of the query:
Don't you want to stay and do that again?

The temptation was nearly unbearable. Burk stood. He couldn't look at Willa. He knew if he did, his heart would be shredded by the vulnerability and beauty he'd see there. He cleared his throat, telling himself it was time to go. Their bargain was fulfilled. She'd wanted it. And she got it.

He should be patting himself on the back, really.

“See you,” he grunted, striding toward the door.

There was only silence as he pulled it shut with a click.

Willa sat on the cold bedspread, half dressed and trembling with hurt and anger. Burk had taken her with every ounce of passion she'd hoped for, giving her the most glorious release she'd had in years—and then he'd sprinted away.

Not to put too fine a point on it: He'd fucked her and left.

Willa smoothed her tousled hair, too shocked even to throw a fit. Part of her understood that was the deal: She and Burk would have sex without strings attached. Fine. But she'd never anticipated that being with him again would be so…abrupt. Glorious and spine tingling to be sure. But did he have to race out the door like he couldn't wait to get away from her?

Cripes. What a dick.

Willa shook her head. What a dick
indeed
. His penis had been thick and hard and so much bigger than she'd ever remembered. It was exquisite, and had filled her up so completely. She'd felt fused to him when he was inside her, if that was possible. For a moment, she'd found herself thinking that this was more than just a physical release, that they were genuinely connecting to each other. But apparently she'd been deluded to think he was doing much except getting laid and walking away.

She groaned in frustration, rolling off the bed. She pulled on the rest of her clothes and then sat back down for a moment. Her skin still felt tingly and her muscles were relaxed in a way they hadn't been for months. Maybe
years
, if she was being honest with herself.

At least she had an afterglow, even if Burk hadn't stuck around to enjoy it with her.

She took a deep breath, letting herself savor the moment. But savor wasn't what happened. Instead, her body reheated with something like hurt. It clawed at her insides and turned her face red. Over and over she asked herself why Burk hadn't stayed. Was it the weight gain? Had she done something wrong? Worst of all, what if she'd enjoyed it but
he
hadn't?

His corded muscles and the way he'd whispered her name—well, it spoke to enjoyment. But what did she know? It wasn't like her recent experiences with Lance were a good playbook to work from.

It all led to one infuriating conclusion: She had wanted Burk to stay, she had wanted him to want more, and when he didn't—well, it stung.

The sharp hurt had her reeling. It shouldn't have mattered really. Willa almost couldn't understand it. They both got what they wanted. They were both satisfied, at least physically. But somewhere, deep down, she'd clearly wanted
more
.

Willa squeezed her eyes shut, knowing there was nothing she could do about it. So instead, she allowed herself a few more minutes wallowing on the edge of the bed, then told herself it was time for whatever was next.