Deeper Than Need (36 page)

*   *   *

Anything real.

Noah wrapped his arms around her waist and boosted her up, fully aware of the fact that he was skating too close to a line. He was probably going to fall over that line at any moment.

He didn’t care.

As her legs wrapped around his waist, he moved back over to the couch and sat down, his hands gripping her hips, so consciously, acutely aware of the firm, silken curves. His fingers itched to stroke over them, learn every last inch, learn what made her quiver, what made her sigh, what made her moan.

“I spent so many years in a fog,” he murmured, trying to find something, anything, to focus on, something that wouldn’t erode what little control he had left. Nothing in that hellish room, nothing in that house he hated with every fiber of his being, would help.

Trinity … she, in and of herself, was the sweetest distraction known to man, but he couldn’t look at her and still find control. She decimated it simply by existing.

The slope of her shoulder curved gracefully into her neck, and looking at it made him think about how sweet it had been to press his mouth to that curve, how her breath had caught in her throat, how she’d sighed.

But if he looked anywhere else, it was either a trip into temptation or a journey into hell. So he focused on the curve where her neck met her shoulder, bare except for a ribbon of red, holding up that elegant, sexy dress.

“So many years,” he said again, restlessly kneading her flesh through the layers of her skirt. “All lost in a fog. First it was a fog of booze and women and fights, and then it was just a fog of existence. I’d screwed up so bad, hurt everybody around me.”

“Noah.”

He heard the sympathy there and that word came out of him, sharp and biting. “Don’t.” He shook his head, clenching his jaw and focusing on the ceiling overhead for a minute. When he knew his voice was level again, he looked back at her. “You have no idea what I was like. None. My mom died from a heart attack when I was twenty-two and she died not knowing if I’d ever get myself together. I was drunk at her funeral. My dad was the only one didn’t give up on me and I hurt him time and again. I wrapped my car around a tree when I was twenty-four and the look in his eyes—it was like he knew he’d bury me sometime soon. It was
that
look that finally hit me, cut through all the misery I was carrying with me. I didn’t do it for me—not at first, anyway. I did it for him. That’s what my entire life was about for the next few years … I lived it for him.

“Never for me.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back on the couch. “I wanted to make up for all the wrong I’d done, so I lived for him. I went to Bible college, became a youth minister—I was good at it, and I believed in what I did. But it was for him. I got licensed in counseling, but it was for him. I had to find a way to fix…” The word lodged in his throat.
Fix.
How could he fix…? He shoved it back, the self-doubt, the recriminations, those ugly little demons of regret and guilt. “It was all for him. Then he died and I couldn’t do it. I gave up the ministry. My heart wasn’t in it. I still work with kids, but it’s on my terms now. I don’t think I even knew
how
to live for myself. Everything was a fog … until you.”

He heard the soft catch in her breath and he opened his eyes, staring at her through his lashes. “I
believed
in what I did. I wanted to help. I wanted to keep kids from making the mistakes I did. But I did it for the wrong reasons and I’ve spent my life trapped by guilt, trapped by the past.”

“You’ve had a miserable past,” she said, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. Her skin was soft and he held himself rigid as she leaned in, pressed her mouth to his. “You’ve got baggage. It makes sense.”

“Baggage. Yeah, like a freight train full of it.” He covered her hand with his. “I knew all along that I was doing it for the wrong reasons—I still
believe
in what I did, wrong reasons or not. I go to the church where my parents took me as a child. I still read my Bible, and I believe in the messages inside it. I still believe in God. This is me. It’s who I am.”

He turned his face into her hand, caught the pad of her palm between his teeth and bit down. “And even though part of me thinks,
You should know better
 … I’m sitting here thinking that the one thing I want more than I want to breathe is to make love to you.”

A soft red flush settled low on the swells of her breasts, just above the bodice of her dress, dotted with all those silly little cherries. He wanted to lean in and bend over her, press his lips to one of those cherries—the one where her right breast curved just so, lying just where he thought her nipple would be—and he wanted to seek it out with his mouth, then strip that dress away.

“Noah.”

Sliding one hand down her hip, he settled it on her knee and felt something rough and scratchy spill over his palm as he stroked his thumb across her knee.

She licked her lips and then leaned in, pressing her brow to his. “I’m tempted to tell you we should do just that,” she said, her voice husky and low. “I mean … my bedroom is just over our heads and everything. Nice and convenient, huh?”

“Very.”

She laid her palm against his cheek. “But you just told me something that had to just about gut you. I don’t want to be in your bed … or my bed, as it happens, just because you need comfort.”

“Comfort.” He tangled his hand in her hair. “The first time I saw you … you know what I thought the first time I saw you?”

A smile bowed her lips. “It’s probably nothing nearly as crazy as what I thought the first time I saw you.”

“Don’t bet on it.” He tugged her closer and slid his hand a little higher under the hem of her skirt. Her thigh was warm against his palm. Warm and silken, the firm curve of her muscle strong under his hand. “I looked at you and something inside me clicked. It was like I’d finally found something I hadn’t even known was missing.”

She tensed, slowly lifting her head.

Noah held still. He should have been worried—he didn’t move fast on anything. This was something he shouldn’t be moving on at all. Trinity was absolutely right. He’d laid himself open and he was raw, maybe too raw for this. There was no reason for him to be moving fast and here he was, practically sprinting.

But he knew what he was seeing in her eyes.

Loosening the grip he had on her hair, he slid his palm down and curved it over her throat, using his thumb to nudge her chin up. “Your turn now.”

“My turn?”

“You felt something crazy, too. Tell me.”

*   *   *

Trinity thought her heart was going to come out of her chest.

The hand he had on her thigh stroked back and forth, working higher but oh, so slowly. Little licks of fire fanned out, echoing up and resonating through her entire body, all from the touch of his rough, calloused hands.

“I thought…”

She stopped and licked her lips and then just couldn’t make herself continue.

Noah pressed his mouth to her neck, trailing a stinging line of kisses down along her collarbone, lower, lower.… She sucked in a breath and arched closer, desperate for him to keep moving. But he reached the bodice of her dress and stopped.

“Your turn,” he said again, his voice low and rough and raw as silk. His breath was hot against her skin, another teasing caress designed to drive her out of her mind.

Eyes closed, she twined her arms around his neck.

“This is insane, Noah,” she whispered.

“It’s beyond insane … and you felt it, too.” His hand was at her hip now and she forced her lids up as she met his gaze.

“I felt it.” On a shaky breath, she pressed her brow to his and told him, “I looked at you and it was like everything inside me whispered,
There you are
. I’d never seen you before in my life, but it didn’t matter. I felt like I’d been waiting my whole life for just that—finding you.”

The world turned into a dizzying blur around her and she clutched at him, crying out in surprise as he caught her up in his arms. A moment later, she was caught between him and the wall and she thought maybe, just maybe, this was the one time she didn’t mind being in this house. The feel of his chest against hers, his hips pressing square against her through the layers of her skirt and petticoat.

The blue of his eyes burned like fire as he caught her face in one hand, angling her head back until all she could see was him.

“We found each other.” His voice was hungry, hot and hoarse as he bent down, rubbed his mouth against hers. “All that matters. I don’t want to hear you worrying that this is anything but what it is … it’s for us.”

“Noah?”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Sanity tried to creep in as he carried her upstairs.

For the first time in more than a decade, Noah happily tuned sanity and responsibility out.

He was used to doing the right thing, even if it was for the wrong reasons.

This time, he wasn’t entirely sure if there was a right or a wrong, but if there was at least he was doing it because it was something
he
needed, not out of a desire to make up for mistakes or anything else.

Trinity’s bedroom was stark and simple, the walls plain white and the windows covered with pale yellow curtains. The only light filtering in was from the street.

It wasn’t enough.

He wanted to spread her out in a field with the full light of the sun shining down on her.

But this would work, for now.

Settling her on her feet by the bed, he turned her around. The dress was one of those that left the shoulders bare … halter styled, he thought, tying behind her neck with a bright red ribbon that matched the red cherries on the dress.

As he untied the ribbon, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to her shoulder. She sank back against him and arched her neck. He raked his teeth along her skin, feeling her shiver.

He stroked his hands down her arms, smiled against her neck as she reached down and gripped his thighs, holding him tight against her.

He slid a hand around her belly, pressed his palm flat against her. He wanted to just pull that skirt up, bend her over and push inside. He could even see himself doing that, the skirt pushed up over the sweet curve of her butt, her hands braced on the bed just a few feet in front of them. The soft, hungry cries she’d make.

He slid a hand up her back, fisted it in her hair and tugged gently, watched as she let him guide her head around until he could cover her mouth with his. Her tongue slid across his and she bit him lightly before soothing that small hurt, a beguiling little caress. Kissing her was unlike anything he’d ever known—an intoxication that he was happy to indulge in.

Tugging her closer, he took the kiss deeper even as he stroked one hand up, cupping her breast through the bodice of her dress. She gasped into his mouth, arching against him.

Naked.

He needed to have her naked and spread out before him so he could taste everything he was feeling. That need screamed inside him, tangling him into knots while the pulse of hunger wound those knots tighter and tighter. It had been too long—way too long.

Because it had, though, he was determined to make this last. Easing back, he skimmed his lips along her cheek and then kissed her ear. She shuddered as he whispered, “Trinity, I think I want to get you naked … like right now.”

*   *   *

Her brain was going to stop functioning.

Trinity was certain of it.

At any moment.

Her skin burned, practically sizzled, from every touch of his hands. When he went to pull away, she almost grabbed his hands back. She thought about rubbing herself against him like a cat, but then his words penetrated. Naked. Yes. That sounded good. Her naked, him naked, him inside her.

Noah tugged her around to face him and the look in his eyes, scalding hot, was probably going to be the very thing that killed her ability to think or speak.

But not feel.

He dipped his head and pressed his lips to her breastbone, just above where the fabric of her dress stopped. “Is that okay?”

Oh, yes.
Thought stuttered to a halt as his lips danced over her flesh, his tongue sliding out to trace the line where the dress dipped across her breasts. Cupping his head in her hand, she urged him closer.

He nuzzled the valley between her breasts and then caught her wrist, guiding her hand down. “Is that okay?” he asked.

Okay…?
Dazed, she stared at him. “Is what okay?”

“Getting you naked.”

Her tongue felt like it was glued to the roof her mouth. “Um…” She cleared her throat and then, because sanity and second thoughts kept sneaking their way in, she reached and closed her hands around his wrists. “Noah, I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret later.”

“I won’t be sorry, not for this. I’ll take any moment I can have, and enjoy it for a lifetime,” he said, his words whispered against her mouth. “No regrets.”

Her heart jumped up into her chest, and then slowly she felt everything in her start to dissolve, just … melt away. All the fears, all the doubts, every worry she’d had about having a relationship with him. Nothing else mattered. Just this, the way she felt when he looked at her. The way she felt when
she
looked at him.

This was real. This was solid. That
click
she’d felt when she looked at him—it had been
real
. He felt it, too.

Those strong, beautiful hands of his came up and cupped her head, his fingers spearing into her hair as his eyes searched hers. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I’m not here because I need to drown my misery or need to forget. This is something I’m doing because you’re the one woman I’ve waited for my whole life. I want you in my life. I want Micah in my life. I actually
want
a life … for once.”

Then, slowly, like it hurt to do it, he let go and took a step away. “But … that is what I want. If you don’t want the same thing, maybe we shouldn’t—”

Trinity reached out, caught his shirtfront in her hands. “Oh, no, you don’t.” She closed the distance between them, reaching up to press her finger to his mouth. His blue eyes were stormy as he stared at her and she pushed up onto her toes, replaced her finger with her mouth. Her heart raced, ragged and heavy, in her chest, but her voice was steady as she said, “Noah … I
want
.”