Shaken (2 page)

She nodded, but only because she needed to. If she didn’t, she’d say things she’d regret. She had to swallow the words back down. The ache, the accusations that he’d left her all alone in this, that he’d lied. Lied to her, lied to
Autumn
.

She could still see those pudgy baby hands, dimpled at the knuckles, clasping his whole head while he blew raspberries on her round baby belly. She’d looked so much like him, except for her auburn colored hair. When she was born, it had been his idea to name her Autumn, because her hair was the very first shade of fall. A perfect middle between his dark ebony and her own too-pale gold. Julia had fooled herself, had
wanted
to fool herself, that his avid interest in their surprise daughter had been love. She hadn’t wanted to feel that she’d trapped him.

Honesty was a bitter pill.

“I miss you,” he murmured, his hands settling on her arms. His head nuzzled against hers, almost as if he were breathing her in. “I miss you so damn much, Jules.”

She shook, tears already blinding her. “Grant, no—”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” But he didn’t move away. If anything, he was closer.

A sob tore through, though she tried to stifle it with her hand.

“Don’t end us, Julia. Not like this. Not—” His head lifted at the same time that she realized it was happening again. That sickening swirl of the whole world suddenly spinning, lights flickering before going out altogether.

“Grant!” Her urgent whisper turned into a scream just as the elevator lurched to a screeching stop, knocking them both to the floor in an awkward sprawl. But the swaying movement didn’t stop. If anything it grew stronger…as if the elevator car were suddenly swinging like a pendulum.

No, not the elevator.

The building.

“It’s only an earthquake,” Grant rumbled from the darkness beneath her. The sway continued, a giant groan of metal against metal sounding around them.

Her breath came in pants that rasped in her ears until the rolling finally stopped. Opening her eyes slowly, she realized she didn’t have to worry about suppressing her need to touch him anymore. She was squeezing him so tight, her face pressed to his chest, it was a wonder he was breathing, much less talking.
Only
an earthquake. Leave it to Grant to marginalize an act of God. But then she knew what he was really telling her. They weren’t in the car. This wasn’t the accident.

A metallic clicking began overhead, until soft bluish lights came on, illuminating the small space. Emergency lights.

“A five-six, five-seven, I’d say. What do you think?” Practical question. Grounding, even.

But it didn’t really work. Julia still couldn’t unclamp her fingers from his shirt. “That didn’t feel like a five-seven. More like an eight.”

“That’s because we’re in a skyscraper. Extra sway so the building doesn’t fall.”

“Sure, because you learned
that
in medical school.” She closed her eyes again, guiltily relaxing against his body. She was already here, after all. And he felt so reassuring. Strong, familiar. Part of her heart sagged with relief to be back here, where for so long she’d thought she belonged.

“Can’t remember where I picked that up, actually. Thought it was common knowledge here in Cali.” He didn’t seem in any rush to get up. One of his hands lay on the small of her back, a heated weight she’d missed these last months.

“I grew up here, too. I always thought tall buildings would feel it less.” His shoulder hitched beneath her. Under her ear, his heartbeat pounded out an even rhythm. That was Grant. Never shaken.

That realization was enough to get her to sit up. Better not to think about it. She sighed, looking around, wishing there were more than polished metal panels and golden rails to talk about. All around them, there were only reflections of the last thing they should talk about—each other.

Grant sat up next to her, running his hand through his black hair and brushing it out of his eyes. “You all right? Nothing bruised? Nothing broken?”

Just her heart. She took stock, just in case, but there was nothing. Eventually, she had to meet his gaze again. It was a mistake. She realized that as soon as he dipped his head and claimed her lips. She should have pulled away. Should have pushed him off.

But she didn’t. She placed both hands on the sides of his bristly cheeks and let herself have one more taste of heaven. One more moment to feel his firm mouth beneath hers, his flavor when his tongue swept into her mouth. Passion, sweet and drugging, flooded her senses. Only Grant could do that to her, reduce her to simple sensation with a single kiss. But this was so much more than a kiss. This was demand. Desperation. Need. He devoured her, drank her in and held her as if he were trying to take her inside. How could she stop that, when she wanted the exact same thing? One more moment. Just one last taste…

Chapter Three

“Hello?”

The disembodied male voice startled Julia out of Grant’s kiss. He felt her gasp at the same time the heels of her hands pushed at his shoulders. He couldn’t quite let her go, his hands settling on her hips, but he gave her the room she asked for.

“Hello? The cameras are inoperable, is anyone hurt in there?”

“Hello!” she called out, still sounding breathless, her hand hurriedly brushing her long bangs out of her face. They must have slipped free from her pins in the fall, a tempting reminder of the woman beneath the facade. She scrambled to stand, heading for the panel where all the buttons were. Grant let her go and rubbed the back of his head where he’d banged it against the floor. No bleeding, no swelling, nothing to be concerned about. She’d landed on him, meaning the brunt had probably been taken on her knees. A cursory glance didn’t reveal any damage. He studied a little harder, visually tracing the shape of her calves, the line of her thigh all the way up to the full curve of her ass. As if he’d tear his eyes away from that.

“Hello,” she said again, having found the emergency intercom button, bending down to speak directly into it. Good thing she wasn’t looking at him, she wouldn’t appreciate his pleased smile. “We’re here. No one’s hurt, just a little scuffed up. Will you be able to restart the elevator soon?”

“Normally, yes, but our system is unresponsive. The quake seems to have triggered some kind of lockdown.”

Grant straightened, his attention on the intercom completely now.

“You have lights and air and if no one is hurt, then I’m afraid it could be some time before we can get you out of there. I’m sorry, but emergency services are going to be tied up with life-threatening rescues. Our techs are on their way, you just hold tight and hit the intercom if your situation changes, okay?”

Whoever the guy was, he didn’t wait for a response. Julia, however, stared at the panel hopelessly.

When she didn’t move for a solid minute, Grant sighed. “Might as well come sit back down. We’re not going anywhere for a while.” A fact that had to be the first break he’d had in a year. Time with her. Possibly hours. Time to reason with her. Talk her out of this ridiculous move, this ridiculous divorce. She didn’t need to leave to play professionally. She didn’t have to leave, period. They still loved each other. They could get through this. They just needed time, and for some reason Grant wasn’t about to question, God had finally seen his way to giving them some.

He watched her lithe form rise to her full height, his eyes drifting from her face to her neck, her breasts, her legs all the way to her toes. The first step was reminding her of what they were to each other. Perfect halves of one another.

He couldn’t tell for sure in the not-quite white light, but he rather thought he saw a soft flush rising over the rounded edge of her jaw. She turned her face to him and he knew for sure it was there. Could tell by the narrowing of her eyes that she knew precisely what he was thinking. How easy it would be to slide that coat off her shoulders, pull that satiny bowtie at the side of her neck free and pluck the pearled buttons open, one by one, to find the creamy skin beneath. What he wanted to
do
to all that creamy skin…

He stood, already shrugging off his coat.

She watched, not even shaking her head. Just biting her lip. In anticipation? Only one way to find out.

Julia leaned against the wall of the elevator car, watching her husband come ever closer, each step a slow, stalking movement. She could still taste him on her lips, knew what he planned to do if she let him close enough. The question was whether or not she wanted to.

No, that wasn’t even a question.

Whether she
should
.

Her body shook, not in fear—she could never be afraid of Grant—but with need. That kiss ignited too many feelings, awakening something in her that had been blessedly numb since she’d left their home. Desire.

He stood almost over her now, their bodies nearly touching. His warmth called to her, his breath. If she wanted him, all she had to do was reach out and touch. Undo the buttons on that gray shirt, find the muscled flesh beneath. Then she’d be able to press her face to his skin, taste it with wet, sucking kisses that made him groan deep in his chest. Her fingers itched, ready to seek out the muscled ripples along his ribs.

She tightened them on the metal handrail instead.

This was why she’d left. Because Grant turned every quiet moment, every opportunity to talk, into sex. He disappeared from her emotionally, verbally, physically in every way except for the moments he was stripping her. Pleasuring her. Filling her until she screamed from the raw pleasure of it. And then he’d always leave her afterward. Leave her more alone with each experience, until she felt as if there were nothing left of her. She couldn’t face it again.

“This is hardly the place for what you’re thinking,” she said, but the argument lacked the strength she knew it needed.

“This is the only place we have left, don’t you think?” His fingertip touched her jaw, soft as a feather, tilting her face up to his. “Haven’t you missed this, Julia?”

So much her body, her soul, ached day and night.

His lips grazed hers. “I feel like I’m breathing again for the first time in months.” Firmer pressure…or had she lifted onto her toes to press closer? She wasn’t sure. “Like my heart’s beating again, just touching you.”

Hers, too. Beating so fast it felt like a flutter.

His fingers left her jaw, the backs of them trailing down her neck to the collar of her blouse, which felt like it was strangling her. He tugged on the tie, gently. Asking permission. God, how she wanted to give it to him.

She stared up, his face so close to hers, but his gaze was on the tie at her neck. His black lashes spread like thick fans just above his stark cheekbones. So haggard, so…lost. She lifted her hand to his cheek, his heavy stubble tickling her palm. If she gave in, though, he’d be gone in a heartbeat…

It hit her then. Gone where? They were trapped. He couldn’t walk away this time. Couldn’t leave her behind. Couldn’t hide from her questions. Her love.

Against all her better judgment, hope flared in her heart.

“Let me touch you, Jules,” he whispered roughly, lowering his mouth to the corner of hers. Slowly he made his way down her body, touching but not taking. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself. Until he knelt before her, hands on her thighs, waiting. Watching her. “Let me make it better.”

God, did she have the strength? Could she take one more risk, after everything she’d already lost? Her daughter, her marriage… Could she bear it if she tried to reach for her husband and everything she feared about their relationship was true?

Could she bear it if she was wrong and never took the opportunity to find out for sure?

Closing her eyes, she finally let go of the rail. She reached blindly for his hands, guiding them to the hem of her skirt…and underneath. Her breath slipped out in a rush when he began lifting the fabric, sliding the skirt higher and higher up her thighs.

Her breath disappeared altogether when she felt the first hot lick of his tongue.

Chapter Four

Julia bit her lip, her legs trembling as Grant’s firm mouth grazed down her thigh and back up again, licking the fold where it joined her body one more time. His tongue slipped just under the edge of her panties, teasing. He never stopped the slow rise and fall of his hands over her thighs, gently widening her stance for him, cupping her knees until her hips canted subtly closer to his roving mouth.

“I missed the taste of you,” he rumbled against her belly, his fingertips caressing the fabric edge he’d been toying with a second before. Traced it…slipped beneath it, his knuckle glancing the already slick outer lips of her sex. She jerked, her body hyperaware of the slightest touch. No doubt hearing her gasp, he looked up, those molten gray eyes of his glowing up at her with searing passion. Need. A grim smile spread his lips, nearly the one she recognized from years as his lover but touched with the darkness he made no pains to hide. Or maybe he just couldn’t anymore. What was important in that second was the wickedness glinting there with it. His knuckles rolled back against her folds, nudging her swelling clit with careful, brain-numbing swipes.

“You haven’t really tasted me yet.”

His smile lost some of that darkness, the wicked growing brighter by the second. “I haven’t, have I?” His fingers tightened on the gusset of her uninspiring white panties, pulling the garment down her thighs and baring her to his hungry gaze. Only when he’d dragged them nearly to her knees did he let go, slowly bringing his hand to his mouth. His gaze never left hers as he licked her moisture from it, like a cat would at sweet cream.

She shuddered, remembering the sensation of that stroke. Wanting it, almost able to feel it scoop through the folds of her slit. He used to love telling her how much he enjoyed fucking her with his mouth. That her flavor alone could almost make him come. That she got sweeter with each swipe and suckling. “As good as you remember?”

“Better.” His voice was little more than a growl now. “But one taste isn’t nearly enough.” He tugged again on her panties, pulling them down her calves insistently. “I want.” He leaned in to lick once over her sex. “Every.” Another lick, this one accompanied by her heeled foot being freed of the underwear. “Last.” He sucked this time, a fast draw over her clit as he pulled her free leg up over his shoulder. “Drop.”