Blackthorne, Fiona - Moonstruck [Blue Moon 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (9 page)

She drained her wine and stood up to stretch and put another log on the fire. She shook her body to loosen it up and settled back down again. This time, as she worked, she glanced regularly at the time, and time behaved itself.

The knock on her left was sudden and very close, as if someone had slammed a chair down right next to the foot of the sofa. Ava jumped, her laptop clattering to the floor. Instinctively, she backed up against her corner of the sofa, hardly breathing. That was no sound of a settling old house or a branch. That was a real knock against wood. Inside. Here. Three feet away.

Knock!
Her heart stopped as a knock sounded right by her side, as if someone was next to her. Her body was so tense that every muscle was stiff and painful. Frozen in place, she couldn’t bring herself to turn and look anywhere but at the fire, which burned brighter with the new log. It should have thrown more light into the room, but the room felt suddenly darker, the shadows a little thicker, more opaque.

She bit off a cry as there was another knock from her bedroom quickly followed by one from the kitchenette. Two more sounded right next to her. Terrified past tears, she forced herself with every bit of courage she could scrounge up to jump up from the couch and grab the poker from the hearth. She shook as she held it up. Three knocks sounded to her left, her right, and in front of her.

Ava uttered a strangled cry and swung at the air. Two angry knocks came from by the kitchen table. She cried out when five insistent knocks shook her front door.

“Oh God,” she gasped. “Oh God, oh God, oh God!”

Fragments of the Lord’s Prayer flitted through her mind, and she tried to form the words with her panic-stiffened lips.

“Our Father, who art in heaven,” she whispered. What came next? Oh God!

The knock was right next to her, and it was loud enough to sound more like a crash.

“Hallowed be Thy…” She stumbled over the word as two more knocks pounded the floor in front of her.

Something pounded at her door five more times.

“Deliver me from evil.” She gasped and made a run for the door, poker in hand. She didn’t care if it was raining or snowing or a freaking hurricane outside. She was not staying there, even if it meant swinging a poker through the Devil himself to get out of the cottage.

She yanked the door open, prepared to swing at whatever was standing there, only to sob in relief to find Robert Molineaux on her doorstep, dripping rain and looking longingly at her with his golden eyes.

With a cry, she threw herself into his arms, only to be thrust behind him as he stepped into the cottage. Anger and tension rolled off him in almost tangible waves as he swept the inside of the cottage at a glance. Then, and Ava would have sworn to this in a court of law, he growled. It was a real animal growl, with a loud rumble that reverberated deep in his chest and snaps and snarls. She couldn’t make sense of it. She couldn’t make sense of anything. All she knew was that tears were streaming down her face, she couldn’t breathe, and pressing herself into Robert’s back wasn’t being nearly close enough to him.

Suddenly, she found herself pulled into Robert’s arms and back into the cottage.

“No!” she gasped. “No! Not in here, no, I can’t. It’s too, there’s something…”

“You know,” Robert said, holding her close and tipping up her chin so he could look into her eyes, “you really have a thing for iron pokers, don’t you?”

She realized she was still holding the iron poker in a death grip in one hand. With a sobbing laugh, she let it fall. Its clatter against the floor was a blessedly normal sound.

“Shhh, Ava,” Robert whispered, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair while holding her tightly against his chest. “Everything is all right. You’re safe here, now.”

She couldn’t think and didn’t want to think. The only thing she wanted to do was to stay in Robert’s arms, or better yet, bring Robert’s arms back with her to her nice, noisy apartment in Boston. She realized that she was cold and shaking. Was this shock? What the hell had happened? She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Robert’s wet leather barn coat back into the room.

She felt him reach over and flick on the light switch, and suddenly, nice, modern electric light filled the cottage.

“Come, love,” Robert said, swinging her up into his arms and carrying her over to the sofa. He set her down gently and stripped off his coat before settling down next to her and pulling her into his lap.

Ava instinctively curled up, huddling against him as his strong arms formed a warm, iron cage of protection. Just having another human being in the room was a profound relief. The fact that it was strong, kind Robert Molineaux just made it better. For a few moments, she forgot that she hardly knew him, that she was supposed to be furious with him and his brothers for…for…for making her want them. All she knew was that he was safety. He was shelter. He was everything she needed in that moment.

Too shattered to talk about what had just happened, Ava tried to distract herself.

“Why are you here?” she asked quietly, lying against his chest, limp from the exhaustion brought on by her terror. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but I’m surprised.”

“I…came here to apologize,” Robert replied sheepishly.

She sat up and looked at him quizzically. “Apologize for what?”

“I was an ass this morning,” he said, pushing wayward locks of wet black hair off his forehead. “I was harsh, and I didn’t mean to be.”

“I didn’t notice,” Ava said quietly, sitting up to look at him. “I just thought you were worried.”

“I was. I
am
. God! When I think of what might have happened if I hadn’t showed up when I did tonight—”

“Don’t! Please. No. Don’t talk about it. I…I can’t. Just…let’s talk about something else.”

Robert smiled sadly at her and touched her face. Instantly, she felt the sizzle and tingle of his touch burn in every nerve. She felt a weight of something intense upon her heart, and again, that invisible connection that seemed to pull her to him. His handsome face, golden eyes, and black hair made him look like some kind of romance novel hero, one who had just happened to walk into her life and her bed and seemed to like it there…and who didn’t mind sharing her with his two brothers.

“So, tell me what you’re doing up here,” Robert said. “In fact, tell me all about yourself.”

“Oh, I’m not that interesting, really.”

“I want to know.”

“Trust me, you’ll be asleep before I even get to my dissertation topic.”

“I have other ideas than sleeping,” Robert said, his golden eyes darkening as he traced her bottom lip with his thumb.

Jesus Christ, how was she supposed to talk when all she wanted to do was kiss him now?

“Um,” she said, trying to focus herself away from the desire that was slowly filling her body with warmth. “Born and raised in Portland. Went to college outside of Boston. Got into grad school—”

“Where?”

“Harvard?” she said, cringing slightly, waiting for the inevitable drawing back.

To her surprise, Robert smiled broadly, as if he was proud of her, and nodded.

“I was struggling at the beginning of the semester between teaching two half-semester classes and trying to finish my dissertation,” she continued unsteadily as his fingers brushed her jawline and down her neck. Why on earth was she letting him do this? Oh right, it felt so good and so right that she didn’t want him to stop. Right.

“So, my advisor suggested I get away after the end of my first half-semester class. You see, I’ve got a deadline.”

“A deadline, eh?” Robert said with a chuckle. “What kind of deadline?”

“December 20.” She sighed, thinking of how quickly it was coming up. “And I have a five-hundred-page dissertation to edit.”

“And where are you now?”

“Page one hundred twenty-six.”

“You’ve got a lot of work to do.” Was there a growl in his throat?

“You’re telling me!”

“So, how did you decide to come up here?” Damn! Why did he have to start playing with her hair and touching her neck?

“My advisor’s husband’s family owns White Farm, and she said I was welcome to use the cottage for free.”

Robert’s hands stilled, and his expression darkened to something primal and fierce.

“They knowingly sent you up here?” he snapped, making her jump back from his touch. “No, no, I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to snap at you, but this is—”

“Don’t talk about it,” Ava ordered hurriedly. “Please, not tonight, not right now.”

“No,” Robert conceded, pulling her to him. “Not tonight.”

She looked up at his face, and the tenderness and concern she saw in his eyes wrapped her heart in something warm and lovely. He touched her cheek lightly again, and it was her undoing. She wanted him. She needed him. She needed the ultimate human connection in that moment.

She reached up and kissed him.

Chapter 9

The touch of her lips to his was like a spark of magic. Robert held back a groan as pleasure raced through him. He held back more than that, forcing himself to keep his arms secure but gentle around her and to keep his kiss soft and willing. He struggled against his nature, which wanted to rip her clothes off and make rough, fierce love to her until she cried out in the ultimate submission to him. His Ava had been badly frightened just now, and the kiss might just be a kiss, a small demand for the reassurance of humanity around her.

The strangest part, which was strange because it felt completely right, was that Robert knew he would do whatever she wanted, give her whatever she needed because his heart felt like it was entwined around hers. Tenacious, invisible vines bound them together in a way that he pulled to her at all times now, worse when he was apart from her. The few hours he had spent away from her today had been agonizing, the urge to go to her and be near her almost overwhelming his ability to think of anything else.

No, he would give Ava whatever she needed and wanted, no matter the cost to himself. Gently, he kissed her back, longing to plunder her mouth, that sweet darkness that tasted like sugar to him.

He was taken completely by surprise when Ava moved to straddle him and took his face between her hands and plunged her tongue into his mouth. Instantly, his entire body responded, muscles tensing as if he was going to shift, his cock swelling and throbbing with want.

“Ava,” he whispered between kisses, rubbing his hands up and down her back, “are you sure?” He would give her the night of her life if she wanted, but not if it would cause her grief in the morning.

“Yes,” she breathed, nipping at his bottom lip, rousing the animal that slept inside him, the animal that wanted to bite and taste and lick her all over. “And no. Just…just let me…”

“Whatever you need, love,” he said, trying to keep the growl of desire out of his voice.

She ended their conversation with a fierce kiss, and for a few moments, the kisses fell between them like rain. Robert fought to keep control of himself, to let her go at her pace. He concentrated on the wet sounds of their kisses and the way she felt so fragile in his hands. It was hard to focus on not breaking her while his throbbing cock was making demands.

He lost the battle when she ground her hips against him, her delicate hands moving down to unbutton his shirt. He needed to feel her against him, completely against him, her skin on his. Last night had been a taste, but not nearly enough. He wanted all of her, to fill her, to feel her to wrap himself around her and share her warmth and sweetness.

He pulled her bulky sweater off, leaving her in her T-shirt. He ran his hands down her sides, feeling the small bones of her rib cage, the delicate line of her spine, and the softness of her belly. She filled his hands perfectly, and it was so natural and easy to touch her. His heart expanded as the invisible vines tightened, the pressure of his feelings sharpening the desire he felt for her in every inch of his body. It was torture to hold himself back, to tamp down on the beast inside that wanted it rough and wild, that wanted to hear her beg for him and to see her soft and vulnerable in his hands.