Read Coming Back To You Online
Authors: Donya Lynne
Tags: #contemporary romance, #steamy romance, #sexy scenes, #good karma, #donya lynne, #strong karma, #mark strong
All of the cloak and dagger and missed
opportunities were his fault. Instead of taking a more active role
in his destiny, he had sat back and done nothing, letting invisible
forces control his life.
Well, no more. That ended tonight.
Tonight, he took back control. He was the
master of his own destiny from now on.
Another thirty minutes passed, and Mark saw
the green exit sign for Indianapolis as he stared out the window at
the lightening landscape as snow layered over the night-darkened
fields on either side of the interstate. It was almost midnight,
and even though they’d had to drive slowly, they’d beaten the worst
of the storm.
Around twelve thirty, the limo crawled along
the empty street in front of Karma’s apartment complex then turned
in. He guided the driver around to her building then handed over
his credit card to pay for the ride. When the driver handed him the
slip to sign, he scribbled in the promised thousand dollar tip.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Thank
you
.” Mark grabbed his things
and began to scoot toward the door.
“Shall I wait? Just in case no one
answers?”
Mark glanced around the parking lot and
spotted Karma’s car. She was home. “No, thank you. I’m good.” Even
if it took until morning for her to answer her door, he wasn’t
leaving until he saw her.
“Good luck, sir.”
“Thank you, Elijah.” He’d had the opportunity
to chat with the driver a few times during the trip. “Drive safely.
Enjoy the holiday with your family.” He pulled his luggage out of
the car and into the snowy drizzle that would turn to all snow by
daybreak, carried his bags up the sidewalk as the limousine pulled
away, and then climbed the stairs to her apartment.
This was it. No more hiding. No more secrets.
No more going back.
It was time for him to take his rightful
place by Karma’s side.
Karma groaned from sleep as the ringer on her phone
cut off. Who the hell would be calling her at…she checked the
clock…almost one in the morning. Most likely a wrong number. She
got wrong-number-drunk-dialed in the wee hours of night once in a
while.
She rolled back over and closed her eyes.
Her eyes fluttered open. Was someone knocking
on her door?
She sat up, suddenly on high alert, and
clicked on her bedside lamp. She’d heard horror stories about women
who answered their doors at night only to be raped or mugged…or
murdered.
Climbing out of bed, wearing nothing but a
pair of flannel pajamas, she tiptoed into the kitchen, grabbed a
knife, and then darted quietly to the door just as another
insistent knock startled her.
Then her phone began ringing again from the
bedroom.
What the hell was going on?
She stuck her eye up to the peephole and
caught her breath. It was Mark. He had his phone to his ear, and
his hair was sticking out in all directions like he’d spent the
last twelve hours running his fingers through it.
“Come on. Pick up.”
She could just make out what he said from
behind the door.
Taking a step back, she set the knife on the
window ledge and unlatched the deadbolt.
When she opened the door, he lowered his
phone.
He looked a mess. His hair was trying to
imitate Einstein’s up-do on a bad day, his eyes were bloodshot, and
his tuxedo was a wrinkled nightmare. His tie hung limply around an
open collar. What the hell had Mark gone through to get there? A
stampede of elephants?
She crossed her arms, not about to give in.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?” His voice sounded worse for
wear, hoarse and gravelly.
Barely holding her emotions in check, she
stepped aside and warily waved him inside.
He set his suitcase next to the couch as she
closed the door. Then he turned and disappeared into her kitchen.
Okay, that was odd. What the heck was he doing? The light flicked
on as she remained in the living room. She heard a quiet
rustle.
“There it is,” he said softly.
A moment later, the light turned off. He
reappeared and crossed the room toward her. He held a small slip of
paper in his extended hand.
“What’s this?” She took it and read.
Karma,
I didn’t want to wake you.
Thank you for tonight.
Have to go. Will call you.
M
When she looked back up at him, he glanced
down at the note and gestured. “I didn’t want you to think I left
Friday night without saying good-bye.”
“Oh.” She nibbled the inside of her bottom
lip.
How had he known she had thought he’d walked
out on her? She felt like she was watching a TV show that was part
of a series and she hadn’t seen one of the earlier episodes.
Despite her wariness, an expectant excitement
hummed down her spine, but she didn’t dare hope his arrival at such
an insane hour meant anything important, but she couldn’t deny the
bubble of hope that it did. Had he gotten the personnel report and,
in a panic, returned to Indianapolis? If that was the case, what
exactly did that mean? That he loved her? That she’d been wrong
about him?
Clearing her throat and squaring her
shoulders, she set the note aside and crossed her arms again. She
couldn’t let him affect her like this. She needed to show him she
no longer needed him.
“It’s late, Mark. Why are you here?”
He frowned and dropped his gaze to the floor
before closing his eyes. He seemed to be wrestling with something
she couldn’t see. His inner demons, maybe. Then he lifted his head
and opened his eyes again. When he did, raw anguish burned into
her.
“Don’t leave me.” The heartbreak in his
whispered words nearly crushed her. “Please don’t leave me.”
She took a step backward as if his words had
nudged her. In a way, they had, because he had it backward. She
hadn’t left him. He’d left her. He’d done it twice. Once over a
year ago then again Friday night.
“Mark,
you
left
me
.” Quiet
agony laced her whispered words.
He took a step toward her, and she backed
away another fraction of a step. His gaze beseeched hers, pleading
an unspoken yearning. “Please don’t go. I can’t lose you
again.”
Her retreat came to a sudden halt as her brow
screwed into a knot. What was he saying? He wasn’t making sense.
“Mark…I—”
“I love you.” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and
down. “I’ve always loved you. I just never knew how to say it.” His
gaze devoured her face as he took another small step toward her and
pressed his palm to her cheek. “I can’t live without you. I
can’t
, Karma. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. You’re
everything.” Turmoil and primal honesty shone from his dark eyes.
“That’s why I came to Indianapolis. That’s why I took the job at
Solar. It was the sign I’d been asking for. For almost ten months,
all I’d wanted was a sign that we were meant to be together, and
when Don offered me that job, I knew that was it. That’s why you
can’t go to St. Louis. Because I came here to be with you.
You
. Don’t you understand?”
Karma couldn’t think. She couldn’t speak. She
could hardly breathe. Mark’s staggering declarations flooded her
senses, making it impossible for her to digest any of it. Was he
saying that all this time he’d been in love with her and hadn’t
told her? That he’d let her suffer for months when all along he’d
wanted nothing more than to be with her again? Why would he make
her endure that? Why would he leave her to bear the weight of his
absence alone? He hadn’t even called. Just hearing his voice would
have helped, but he hadn’t even given her that.
Tears stung her eyes, but she wasn’t sure if
they were tears of joy or anger. Maybe both.
“Did you hear me?” Mark’s hand pressed more
firmly against her cheek, his fingers pushing into her hair. “I
love you. I want you.” His eyebrows dug inward toward the bridge of
his nose as he gazed heavily into her eyes. “I
need
you.”
A year of heartache, frustration, sadness,
confusion, anger, and so much more pushed its way up Karma’s spine
like rising lava. “All this time…?” Tears dropped from her eyes.
“All this time you’ve loved me and didn’t tell me?” She pushed
against his chest. “You left me here all alone thinking I meant
nothing to you?” Her voice rose, and she pushed him again, harder
this time. Like a brick wall, he didn’t budge, and that just made
her angrier. “How do you think I felt after you left, Mark?” Tears
gushed down her face, but she didn’t care. “How do you think I feel
now?” She wasn’t sure if the ache in her chest was because her
heart was breaking all over again or mending together with such
ferocity that it created physical pain.
“I love you.”
“Stop saying that.” She swatted his chest
again, but he wrapped his arms around her and refused to let
go.
“I…love…you.” His tear-filled gaze drilled
into hers.
“Damn you!” She beat his chest with weak
fists. “Damn you, Mark!” She thrashed, trying to worm out of his
embrace, sobbing.
He pulled her more securely against him. “I
love you,” he whispered against her ear.
The fight drained out of her, and she wilted
and hung her head, her hair spilling over the sides of her face.
Surrendering, she leaned into him, pressed her face against his
solid, warm chest, and bawled heavy, ugly sobs. The tears came hard
and fast, and she clung desperately to his tuxedo jacket, gripping
the fabric inside her fists.
A year’s worth of emotional cleansing flooded
her system for several gut-wrenching minutes as she tried to
process what had just happened. Mark stood solid, holding her,
caressing her back, kissing her hair, letting her expend herself.
When the tears stopped coming, and only the aftershocks of her
tumultuous emotions remained, he loosened his embrace and brushed
his hand over her hair.
“I love you,” he said again, speaking against
the top of her head. His breath warmed her scalp.
Feeling lighter than she had in over a year,
Karma lifted her head, sniffled, and stared into his eyes. The last
vestiges of resistance swept away like mist on the wind. “I love
you, too.”
For a heartbeat, their gazes locked, and pure
love flowed unabashedly between them. Then his lips crashed down on
hers, and she sobbed against his mouth as naked honesty ripped her
open and stripped her bare.
“Don’t leave me.” She sounded like she was
begging. “Please don’t leave me again.”
“I won’t.” He lifted her off the floor and
cradled her against his body as he carried her down the hall to the
bedroom.
All she could do was press her face against
his chest and wrap her arms around his neck. Everything was
different now. This was a side of Mark she’d never seen. He was a
changed man. No longer the master of control, he seemed to have
given in to something larger than himself. He seemed like a man
fighting for what he wanted, ready to expose his heart and
soul.
He placed her on the bed and shrugged out of
his jacket, determination making him regal, his shoulders squared,
his chin high. No longer did he look like a mad scientist, but a
man lost to passion, driven to claim what he knew rightfully
belonged to him.
And she did belong to him. For months she’d
tried to deny it, but truth had found her, and it was good to be
found.
Without tearing his gaze from hers, he tugged
the tie from around his neck and tossed it aside, removed his
shimmering Jacquard vest, then began unfastening the buttons of his
shirt.
His intent was clear. Tonight, he would make
love to her. Truly
make love
to her. Heart open, soul bared,
nothing but honesty and devotion between them. There were no more
lies. She wasn’t hiding from him or the truth, and neither was he.
That much was clear.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she gazed up
at the powerful, masculine body that now belonged to her. The
enormity of that realization made tears spring to her eyes
again.
“Is this really happening?” she
whispered.
He knelt in front of her, lifted her hands
from her lap, and placed them on his chest. Her right palm lay
against his circular tattoo, the meaning of which she still didn’t
know.
With a subtle nod, he grinned. “Yes, it’s
really happening. Feel me. Feel my heart beat.”
She pressed her hand more firmly against his
warm, solid chest. The strong pounding of his heart thumped against
her palm.
“That’s for you,” he said. “Every beat of my
heart from this day forward is for you.”
She stroked her fingers through the soft
waves of hair that arced toward his sternum. “When did you get so
romantic?”
His fingers pushed up the sides of her
thighs. “Since the moment I realized what an idiot I was to return
to Chicago without you.” He pushed her knees apart and situated
himself between them.
“You
were
an idiot.” She ran the backs
of her fingers down the stubble on his chin.
The corners of his mouth lifted. “You’ve no
idea.” He pushed forward and locked his lips to hers at the same
time he pushed his hands under her pajama top.
* * *
Idiot didn’t begin to cover his blundering behavior
over the last fourteen months. But he wouldn’t make the same
mistake twice.
Lifting her top over her head, Mark’s gaze
dropped to her fair-skinned breasts. At one time, she’d been
self-conscious about letting him see her naked, but, to him, she
was perfect and beautiful. She moaned as he took one pale-pink
nipple into his mouth and rolled it against his tongue. It
instantly hardened into a tiny pebble, and she leaned back on one
arm, her other hand driving into the hair on the back of his head
as if she wanted to hold him in place. She needn’t worry. He wasn’t
going anywhere. He was where he wanted to be.