Exposure (22 page)

Running his hands down her shoulders, he
lightly gripped her wrists and held them with one hand behind her.
She stilled, but didn't object. Carefully, he rolled them so she
was on her back and her hands trapped between her and the mattress.
He held her wrists in place. Propping himself up on his other
elbow, he rose over her and looked in her eyes.

She swallowed hard, gaze roaming his
face.

"Okay, baby?"

His heart beat out of his chest when she
nodded.

***

W
ith her arms
trapped behind her, Raven's breasts thrust forward, her back
arched, and her hard nipples brushed against Noah's broad chest.
Her pulse hummed, her heart pounding. There was a trace of
apprehension under the surface but, mostly, she was aroused.
Curious.

Still holding her wrists, Noah reached for
the whipped cream and spread a generous amount on each breast. She
held her breath when he dipped his head to lick it away, hot mouth
against cool skin. Her nerves fired, creating sensual heat over her
body and throbbing between her legs. When he finished lavishing one
breast, he moved to the other, just like she'd done to him.

She was panting by the time he was finished
and he grabbed the can again. He made a long vertical line between
her breasts, to her naval, where he sprayed two additional lines to
create an arrow pointing down.

Without looking up from his task, he
rumbled, "In case there was any doubt what direction I was
headed."

She smiled and quickly gasped when his mouth
was on her again, using teeth and tongue and lips to eat away the
cream. "Noah…"

"I love it when you say my name."

"Noah," she repeated, begging.

She writhed beneath him, body tense with
need. A cold sensation hit her between her thighs and over her
folds when he added cream, but it did nothing to douse the fire.
She looked down at him, head between her legs and eyeing her sex
like he was starving.

His gaze met hers. Slowly, he slid his free
arm under her and grabbed each wrist with his hands, still keeping
her immobile. Tugging down gently until her hands were nearly under
her bottom, he encouraged her shoulders back farther, her spine
bowing. Her breasts thrust out more, the sensitive peaks wet from
his mouth and puckered.

The position was binding and erotic at the
same time. She was completely at his mercy, open for him. The loss
of control caused a ripple of desire instead of her usual
panic.

"Put your legs on my shoulders, baby."

When she did, his mouth closed over her sex
and she screamed. He licked the cream from her folds, along her wet
opening, and over her clit. She thrashed in his embrace, using the
leverage of her position to press into his mouth. His tongue
penetrated her, sending shivers of bliss along her spine.

Being pinned down, helpless to move and seek
pleasure only on his terms, was enticingly explosive. Give and
take. Pleasure and pain. Sweet, sweet torment. Her muscles coiled
as her body tensed to explode.

"I'm fucking hard again, baby. Look what you
do to me. I can't get enough of you." He rose to his haunches,
knees spread, lifting her hips from the bed, her ankles on his
shoulders and his hands still firmly holding her wrists. His heated
gaze intense, it swept over her body, his thick shaft poised at her
opening. "Gorgeous. You're goddamn gorgeous."

And in that single held breath, she was. All
her life, she'd stayed in the shadows, not wanting attention,
uncomfortable with it. He was the first person to look, to actually
see her as she was, and demand she do the same. No man had ever
made her consider herself beautiful. It wasn't even anything she'd
contemplated. But she knew, without doubt, that she was to him.

He thrust into her, slow and deep. So, so
deep. He thickened inside her, filling her like no one ever had
before. Body, soul. Heart.

Her throat tightened. Moisture formed behind
her lids.

"Look at me," he pleaded.

"I'm okay. Give me a second."

"Look at me." A demand this time, rough and
frantic in concern.

She lifted her lids, tears blurring her
vision. He made the motion to let go of her arms, but she shook her
head. "No. It's not that." Wet tracks coursed from her eyes, down
her temples, and to the pillow.

"Then tell me." His face twisted in worry.
He didn't even seem to be breathing.

She didn't know what was wrong, how to put
to words these emotions she'd never experienced. So how was she to
voice it to him? Helplessly, she shook her head, a sob catching in
her throat. God. She was crying during sex. What next?

At once, his gaze softened and his body
relaxed, as if he understood the assault within her. He released
her wrists and wrapped his arms around her back, bringing her up to
meet him chest to chest. Without breaking their connection, he
stretched his legs out, rooting himself deeper inside her body. She
held onto his shoulders as if the world would tilt again.

Pushing her hair back from her face, he
looked in her eyes and thumbed the tears away. "Me, too, baby." He
kissed her with tender brushes of his lips and gentle strokes of
his tongue, saying so much without speaking a word.

Her hand slid down his chest, where the
steady beat of his heart pounded against her palm. She wasn't alone
with the emotions. He was right there with her, telling her through
touch and actions it would be okay. They were still them, the same
people, stronger now.

He eased back, blue gaze steady as they
shared air. "It's not as frightening as I thought it would be," he
whispered. Then he kissed her again, hugging her close while he
brought his hips up to move inside her.

Heat stirred within her again, but different
this time. Stronger. Softer. Scarier. She ground against him,
unsure whether to panic or cry anew. It was all so overwhelming,
dizzying.

He matched her movement, rocking into her
with slick deep strokes, gliding against her flesh and creating
friction. Need uncoiled inside her, shoving everything else aside
to come together with him. He buried his face in her neck,
clutching her to his chest as if letting her go would cause
pain.

When they splintered, they did it together,
and when they collapsed on the bed and fell asleep, it was
together. She could only wonder for how long.

And as her eyes opened the next morning, her
laying on her stomach, his head propped in his hand and fingers
stroking her spine, the question was still in her mind. He was
watching her closely, gauging her mood.

She sighed. "What are we doing, Noah?"

His hand stilled, his gaze searching and
contemplative, mouth in a tight line. "Don't do this. Don't freak
out."

"I'm not freaking out. I'm here, aren't
I?"

He didn't respond, but a muscle ticked in
his jaw and wary hope looked back at her.

She bit her lip. "We had a time limit and
kept going. Nothing's been spelled out. I don't understand what
we're hoping for by doing this. I don't even know what to say if
someone asks about you."

Expression unreadable, he swallowed. Long
moments stretched. His voice was a gravelly whisper when he finally
spoke. "You tell them I'm the man who's in love with you."

R
aven hadn't moved
one muscle. She lay on her stomach in his bed, eyes wide and lips
parted in disbelief. He'd thought about holding back until she was
ready to hear the words, but he'd lied to her for too long. Lied to
himself.

No more.

And since they couldn't build a relationship
if they kept halting any forward progress, he decided to say it
all. If she ran, she ran. He'd chase her. To the ends of the earth
and back. "I don't want a few months with you, I want a lifetime.
You're all I want. That doesn't mean deciding right now and we
don't need to rush whatever's happening to get to the end game. We
can keep doing this for the next fifty years, if that's how you
want it, Raven. As long as you're here with me."

Slowly, never taking her gaze from him, she
sat up and hugged the sheet to her chest. He didn't move because
something told him she needed the position above him to feel safe.
So he remained on his side, head in hand, calmly watching her as
his heart jack-hammered out of his ribcage and his muscles grew
rigid in fear she'd walk.

Thing about Raven? She didn't trust people.
Whether that had to do with a childhood she hardly remembered or
whether she didn't trust herself was moot. The point was, he'd
broken through, when all others had failed, and that meant
something.

When it was obvious she couldn't or wouldn't
speak, he said the rest of the diatribe which had shoved around in
his skull all night. "I've loved you a third of my life, and I
think I've been in love with you for half that long. Don't say it
back to me unless you mean it. You trust me with your body, and
that's more than any man before me. But you don't trust me here
yet." He pressed his hand to her chest and left it there. "Until
you trust yourself, you'll never be able to love me." He swallowed.
Hard. "I'll wait. I'm not going anywhere."

Pressing a palm to her forehead, she glanced
away, gaze lost in thought. "We don't know if we can make this
work, Noah. Neither of us has tried a relationship."

"We don't know it
won't
work. And we
are trying, right now. We have been for weeks." The alternative was
not having her at all, and he couldn't live through that. He'd lost
everyone he ever cared about but her and Aubrey. He'd stop
breathing if he lost either.

He could've wept when, instead of moving
away or avoiding, she placed her hand over his on her chest. "How
do you know I don't fully trust you? Or myself?"

Because she had to ask, that's why. "You
know the moment I knew I was in love with you?" He stared into her
eyes to ram home the difference. "When Max called to say you were
being followed. My first thought as you walked toward me on the
pier was I couldn't live without you." He'd rather that bastard
kill him than harm one hair on her head. "If anything ever happens
to me, you're the one I'd want raising Aubrey." That night he
walked in on Raven and Aubrey's conversation about her burns made
his chest ache to think about now.

Her eyes widened. "I don't know anything
about parenting."

"You think I did at eighteen? No. You muddle
through, for the best of the child. It's scary and hard and
sometimes the only reward is an
I love you
at the end of the
day." He sat up, her gaze tracking the move. "You don't trust that
you can do the job. Be a parent, a mother. Whether it's Aubrey or
your own someday." He slid his hands to her waist and pulled her
closer. "I don't think you can. I
know
you can. That's
trust. That's love."

Her pretty brown eyes filled again, tears
clinging to her lashes and spilling down her cheeks. "You'd trust
me with Aubrey?" She spoke so softly he barely heard her over his
pounding heart.

"I already do."

She shook her head as if to deny his words,
but then closed her eyes.

He pulled her sideways into his lap, hugging
her hard. He got the sense she was trying to pull away from him,
even though she didn't move, but he held tight. Raven didn't
conform well to change and she hated being pushed, but he needed
her to know how he felt. "I'm not asking for anything, baby. Just
stay with me. The rest will come."

After long moments, when she didn't respond
or flinch or cry, he had his answer. The knots of tension uncoiled
in his gut and he flopped back on the bed with her sprawled over
him. He'd never get tired of touching her. She was a damn balm to
his soul. Running his hand up and down her back, he kissed her
temple and started to doze off.

"Noah?"

"Hmm?"

She paused. "You're very comfortable."

A lazy grin split his face at her
complicated statement wrapped in simple. She was staying.

***

W
hile Noah slept,
Raven dressed in jeans and a black turtleneck sweater and padded
into the kitchen. Coffee brewing, she leaned against the counter
and bit her lip.

Her head was woozy with everything he'd said
but, oddly, she didn't feel trapped or pressured. Being with Noah
was easy. Maybe too easy. Sometimes, she kept waiting for the other
shoe to drop and for him to say he'd hit his emotional limit. After
all, for his entire adult life, he'd had no one close to him to
latch onto. There were security people and caretakers. And her. But
he was used to being alone, depending on only himself.

Logically, he should be as wary as her.
Instead, it was the opposite. He knew what he wanted and went for
it with courage she wished she had. She didn't even know why she
was like this. Her mother was a sweet, compassionate person who'd
given Raven everything a little girl required. They didn't have a
lot of money, but she'd never gone without.

The missing element was inside of her, and
she had no clue how to get it back. Maybe this all boiled down to
survivor's guilt or abandonment issues, as her pediatric shrinks
once diagnosed. If so, Noah was the best medicine available. With
him, she was…free.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat
in front of his laptop at the kitchen island. Now that she had some
time, she could look up this Rizzoli person who'd made Noah's life
hell. No doubt, Noah had told her everything, but she was curious
to see faces and find out how the trial was going.

An hour and two cups of coffee later, Raven
stretched, closing the browsers. The prosecution had just rested
their case on Friday and the defense was set to begin Monday. The
press was leaning toward a conviction and she didn't see how any
jury could let the man off on all the evidence.