What Might Have Been (11 page)

“Y
OU HAVE NOTHING TO BE
sorry for.”

“I do. I left you alone when you needed me most. Not once but twice.”

He turned away from her, so she couldn't see directly into his eyes. What she could see was the profile of his face—sharp angles and planes shadowed by the night that seemed to blanket them, to cocoon them together rather than keep them apart.

“You know the worst part? Logan was here for you. He did what I should have done. I should be grateful. Instead, I'm so angry and jealous. He got to experience those moments with you, hearing the baby's heartbeat, feeling him kick for the first time. He's dead and I'm still jealous.”

They were the most stark and honest words she thought she'd ever heard him say. Luke had always been boisterous and charming. What he hadn't been was open and free with his emotions…even with her. Even with Logan.

He'd always held a piece of himself back, protected, safe.

She'd understood what motivated that need and had hoped that in time he'd learn to trust her. Learn that she wasn't going to disappear the way his parents had.

But, instead, he'd turned his back on everything they'd had together. Perhaps if she'd pushed…

No, it didn't help to rehash a past she couldn't change. At this moment, she was grateful for the small glimpse of himself that he'd finally shown her.

She stood up and reached for him, laying her hand along the curve of his arm simply to show him that she was here, beside him.

“You can yell at me if it helps. You can get it out and work through it. Logan is gone. You can't shout at him. You don't have that chance for catharsis. But you have to know that everything he did was for you, Luke. He did it because he knew you would have if you were here. He was your stand-in.”

“As always.” He turned his head and looked down at her. His eyes were dark, shaded by both the swirling emotions and the gloom around them. “Don't fool yourself. He did it for you. Logan always loved you. I just didn't realize how much.”

She couldn't argue with him about that. Where Luke had kept pieces of himself hidden, Logan had been as transparent as glass with her.

And yet, she still hadn't been able to love him back. He'd been the opposite of everything Luke was, every thing she should have wanted after he'd broken her heart.
But in the end, Luke was what she'd wanted. Luke was
still
what she needed.

She recognized that instinct, deep inside him, that told him to protect himself. She'd felt the same way all her life. She'd tried to build a hard core that was inviolate, safe from her father's harsh criticisms and demands. A place where she hid her deepest wishes and fears, because if her father ever found them, he'd exploit them to inflict the most pain.

To her father, Jesus had suffered, and therefore, she should, too. Strength was forged in pain, in sacrifice, in ruthless demands on the body and mind.

She'd found her strength in spite of his abuse.

Just as Luke had found his in action and a business world she didn't understand and couldn't be a part of.

There was a piece of her that wanted to protect him, to soothe the man she loved.

And there was the center of her own problem.

She loved Luke and she always had. Despite every thing that had happened, she always would.

And she'd give him everything she could, anything he needed from her. No matter her personal cost.

She wasn't entirely certain if that made her a fool or a martyr. Either way, it wouldn't change her actions.

She reached for him again, laying her palm against the harsh planes of his face. The rough rasp of stubble against her hand sent a shiver down her spine. Such a simple connection of her skin to his and still she responded. Immediately. It was as if he was a catalyst. She
was perfectly controlled Ainsley until he entered her life, then energy and heat poured into her body.

He stared down at her, darkness hiding the feelings behind his eyes. Maybe he didn't want this from her now. But she'd offer it to him anyway. He needed the connection to another human being even if he didn't realize it. She could show him how much he meant to her—even if she could never voice the words.

Taking a step closer, Ainsley pressed the length of her body against him. The offer was obvious. But it was his decision to make.

He paused, not declining but not accepting that offer. She fought disappointment when she realized he was going to refuse. She pulled an unsteady breath through parted lips and took a half step away.

In that moment he erupted around her. With a growl, he reached for her. Pulling her up on tiptoe, he took more than she'd even offered. Not that she minded. Not when she could feel the heat and solid weight of muscle against her.

His mouth found hers, hard, punishing, dominating. Tongue thrusting inside, taking what he wanted, dueling with her even as she melted into him.

His hands moving up and down her back were far from gentle. They were demanding. Insistent. While his touch would hardly leave bruises, there was an edge of pain underlying the pleasure. As if he couldn't let either of them enjoy these moments until he'd fully vented the emotions that had haunted him for hours.

And since she was the source of those emotions she'd let him exorcise them however he needed.

And she had no doubt she'd enjoy the experience.

Could penance involve pleasure? Her father certainly would have argued otherwise. But as desire coursed beneath her skin, Ainsley thought that just maybe it could.

Together they could find absolution, forgiveness and the comfort they should have always offered each other. The relief only he could give her.

He tore at her clothes, straining their seams and threatening to ruin them. Slapping his hands away, with trembling fingers, she unbuttoned her own shirt and let it drop to the floor. She was distracted from finishing the job by the sight of Luke's body being revealed as his own clothes hit the hardwood. He paused long enough to fish a condom from the pocket of his jeans.

They said nothing. No words were necessary. The only sound between them was the heated panting of their ragged breaths.

The floor was hard and cool as they tumbled down, a pile of grappling arms, legs, hands and mouths. They could have moved to the sofa on the far side of the room. Or the rag rug three feet away. Or even the rocking chair.

That would have taken more thought and effort than either of them had to spare. Their only focus was each other.

His fingers scraped down the length of her body, sending pleasure tingling along her skin. He stopped long
enough to pinch one of her already-swollen and sensitive nipples. Tweaking, playing, tantalizing. A tug of answering pleasure spiked deep inside her body, an ache so intense and immediate she writhed against him in search of the only relief.

Her nails raked down the center of his chest, snagging for a moment on the puckered flesh of his nipple. His body quaked at the touch. He hissed through his teeth, and his eyes glittered down at her with the promise of retribution.

She didn't wait. Leaning forward Ainsley nipped at the cord of muscle running from his neck to his shoulder. It stood out from his tense body, strained by the power of his own desire, making it an easy target. The tangy taste of his skin burst beneath her tongue, its saltiness overlaying the sharp tinge of desire.

With a growl, Luke grasped her tight and rolled their bodies, placing himself beneath her. His head dropped back against the floor, his neck, throat and chest open and exposed to her. Her legs straddled his body, bracketing the thick muscle of his thighs between her own.

The wet folds of her sex opened up around the length of his cock, the irrefutable evidence of her desire slipping and sliding between them.

He tortured her by thrusting up against the most vulnerable part of her. He grasped her hips, holding her where he wanted her. Even as he appeared to offer her the power position in their loving, he refused to actually yield to her. She wasn't even sure if he realized he was
doing it. Controlling her in a way that was titillating and frustrating all at the same time.

He wouldn't let her take what she wanted…what she wanted more than her next breath. But he wouldn't give it to her, either. Instead, he rubbed against her body. Even as the hard ridge of his erection nudged and stimulated her clit, the internal walls of her sex spasmed at emptiness.

She wanted him inside her. Now. With a fierce need that scared and tormented her.

Even as he kept her on the edge, taking her closer and then pulling the reward away, she began to fight him. To scrape, pinch, nip and bite.

She growled, a sound she could swear she had never made in her entire life, and sank her teeth into his shoulder. This was no love bite.

She pulled away from him to stare down at the livid crescent she'd created and immediately felt remorse. Something she was tired of feeling around this man.

But she couldn't ignore the urge to reach down and soothe the hurt anyway. Running her tongue over the spot, she licked at him before pressing the softest kiss there.

It was at that precise moment that he reared up and gave her exactly what she'd been silently begging for.

He filled her, stretching her, as her body accepted his invasion. She arched back, grinding her hips down into him in an effort to get every inch of his body into her own.

She could feel him high inside her, the heat and heft
of him. Her muscles clenched him as he pulled back out, trying to keep him where she wanted him most.

In no time he returned, with slow, smooth strokes that sent her closer and closer to the edge.

It wasn't long—seconds, minutes, she had no idea—before she was breaking apart into pieces around him. The world, the pressure and pleasure converged on her in a way that stole every bit of consciousness and coherency from her.

She had no idea what had happened. One minute she was riding the crest of the best orgasm in her life and the next she was lying on the floor beside him.

She had to take stock, actually cataloging the feel of his arm lodged beneath her body at an awkward angle from shoulder to hip. The way one of her legs was thrown over his in a wanton sprawl.

She'd never blacked out in her life, but she thought that maybe it was something like this. Losing seconds or minutes and wondering what the hell you had missed.

The tremors of aftershocks that rocked her body were evidence that she'd more than enjoyed the black hole in her memory.

Her heart still raced, stuttering and protesting as it found a slower rhythm. Beneath the arch of her shoulder, she could feel the answering beat of Luke's heart against her back.

“Well.” His single word brushed the curved edge of her cheek, fluttering damp tendrils of hair and making the muscles of her sex convulse in yet another tremor.

As nondescript as the word had been she thought it probably said everything. “Well.”

Several minutes of silence stretched between them, their panting breaths the only sound. “If this doesn't remind me of my misspent youth I don't know what would.”

Ainsley rolled her head against the floor to look at him, not having the energy to do more than that at the moment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, thank God Gran didn't walk in during the middle of
that
.” She could hear the self-deprecating amusement that laced his words.

“What's that saying about small favors?”

Chuckling, Luke rolled onto his side, pillowing her body in the crook of his shoulder. Her muscles protested their rough use and the hard surface beneath them, but she didn't move. She didn't want to be anywhere but cradled in Luke's arms.

Propping his head up on his hand, he stared down at her. She could barely hold her eyes open, thanks to a combination of emotional upheaval and earth-shattering orgasm. Unfortunately, Luke didn't look sleepy at all.

In fact, he looked rather contemplative as his gaze roamed her face. She wondered what he was thinking but figured he would tell her when he was ready. Prying had never gotten her anywhere with this man. Despite what they'd just shared, she had no reason to think it would work tonight.

She'd just close her eyes for a moment while she waited.

The world tilted. Somewhere in her subconscious she registered the change in her position. However, even as her brain told her she was off balance, her instincts told her she was perfectly safe.

Her eyes fluttered reluctantly open anyway.

“You're fine. I've got you.” His words, the warm timbre of his voice, his strong arms around her—she really did feel safe snuggled against him.

Her eyes shut again as she burrowed closer. She knew from the feel of his body against hers that he carried her up the stairs and laid her gently in the center of his bed.

Curling beside her, he maneuvered them together so that her back was tucked into the protective curve of his chest. He slung an arm over her waist, his fingers gently curled around the swell of her breast. A tingle, a muted reminder of what she'd felt earlier, rushed through her at the touch. But there was no demand, no expectation in the contact. Rather, it was a connection—his body to hers.

With a sigh of satisfaction that had nothing to do with her physical fulfillment, she feel asleep again, knowing that when she woke he would still be right beside her.

 

A
INSLEY CREPT DOWN THE
vacant hallway to the sanctuary of her office. Early-morning light streamed through the windows, taking the chill from the air. She'd strategically placed the desk chair in the best spot of sunshine. It was one of her pleasures, to sit here in the quiet morning soaking up the warmth like a cat.

However, today she didn't have time for that.

She wanted to get through her work early because she had no idea what the rest of the day might hold.

Her body ached in the most satisfying way. She wanted to spend the rest of the day with Luke. Laughing. Loving. Or simply sharing her happiness with him.