Tattooed Hearts (25 page)

Intense heat built in her
stomach and spread lower until she tightened and unraveled as she exploded. She
was still shaking when he grabbed her hips and slid between her thighs, his
steely length resting along her sex, hitting her clit.

Ahhh.

Her eyes fluttered closed.
She arched to take him in. But he pulled back, and brushed wet locks of hair
away from her face.

“Look at me, Claire.”

Half-crazed with need, she
obliged. His gaze was intently fierce, so much so she trembled. “Now…Please,”
she breathed, full of longing and untamed desire.

In one long, torturously
delicious thrust, he slid into her, until every millimeter was buried deep
inside, filling her all the way.

Home.

She gasped and screamed
his name.

“Give
yourself
to me,” he said,
voice rough.

She knew what he wanted.
Control.
Complete control of her
body. “I’m yours.” She raised her ass and handed herself over to him.

Letting out a low, very
male sound of satisfaction, he cradled her hips and thrust deeper. Claire’s
head spun. She
gripped his hair and wrapped her legs
around his waist so they touched in every way, bringing him deeper, skin on
skin. He moved over her, in her, the intensity increasing until it became a
feverish pace.

He kissed her hard and
then pulled back to look at
her before kissing her
again.

And then
again.

Each time harder, and
rougher, tongue delving into her mouth as he moved faster. Each thrust deeper
and harder, hips grinding.

The exquisite friction
sent her flying. Her body clenched, and shattered,
sensations
rolled through her in a sinful chaos of bliss. She threw her head back and
cried out in pleasure, spasms rocking her body in tight, sensual waves.

“Claire,” he grunted her
name, burying his head in her shoulder. With two quick thrusts, he came a
s the last tremors rippled through her. “So fucking
good
.”

The heat of his voice on
her skin sent another ripple through her, making her shudder against him. They
lay stock-still, hearts pounding against one another. For a long moment,
neither spoke. Words
were not needed. The moment was
incredible.

When he finally lifted his
head, he brushed a kiss over her damp temple, and studied her.  “You drive
me crazy.”

“Hopefully
in a good way.”

Rolling to his back, he
hauled her in tight against him. “Insanity is n
ever
good.”

“Say that to the heart.”

He tightened his grip. She
curled up in his arms and let the beat of his heart soothe her to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Love doesn’t need wisdom. It speaks from the irrational
wisdom of the heart.”

Deepak Chopra

For the first time in a
decade, Claire woke up in Forrest’s bed, in a pretzel position—skin on skin,
legs tangled, fingers intertwined, and her head on his chest.

The sex had been great,
but to be curled up in his arms, sharing body heat, the beat of his h
eart whispering softly in her ear, that feeling was primal.

With her body and mind
relaxed, she felt…

Safe.

Peaceful.

At home.

Tidal waves of emotion hit
her. The knot once rooted deep inside her chest disentangled and set her free.
Overflowing with joy,
her lips spread into a smile,
all the years of anguish and sorrow slipping away. She scooted closer,
practically on top of him at this point, and let the happiness soak in.

“Finally awake,” he
said,
voice still rough with
sleep.

She nodded, still
floating.

“Feeling okay?” As if
needing reassurance he didn’t break her, his calloused fingers ran over her
arm, making her skin prickle at the touch.

“Why do you always ask me
that?” she asked, still listening to his heartbeat.

“Ask you what?”

Barely lifting her h
ead from his chest, she peered at him. His eyes were still
closed. His chin covered in days old stubble that was not quite a full beard.
His thick curly hair all mussed up. Her heart stuttered.
God, he was handsome.

“If I’m okay or good after
we have sex.”

He shifted, but not far
enough for their bodies to stop touching. “For one, I’m much bigger than you.”

She chuckled. “You’re
definitely big.” The sore spot between her thighs was a sure indication of it.
Not that she minded. Quite the opposite, she craved
it.

“You’re hopeless.” He
shook his head and
smiled,
the kind of smile that
lit up his face and made the butterflies flutter in her belly. “I was referring
to my physical size versus your build.”

Just so there wasn’t any
misunderstanding, she released his
hand, slid hers
under the comforter and grabbed his thickness. “So was I.”

With a groan, Forrest
tightened his grip on her and swore beneath his breath. “I ask because I care.
I don’t want to hurt you physically or in any other way.”

Her heart skipped a b
eat. Not the love declaration she longed for, but this was
good, a step in the right direction. She understood the significance of the
text that led to last night. How far he’d come to let her in even this close.
Forrest didn’t love casually. When he loved
, it was
fierce, wide open, and raw. His whole heart on display, that’s who he’d always
been.

Now he was guarded. Maybe
a little less so than a month ago, but she had no reason to think he wasn’t
still trapped within the walls of his guarded heart. She und
erstood his reluctance to risk his and accepted it.

“The feeling is mutual,”
she said against his chest. He had her whole heart for his whole life. “Do you
have to go to the office or the hospital today?”

“I have some paper work to
finish, but that can be
done here,” he said, chin
resting on top of her head.

“Going to the farm?”

“No.”

The one word answer spoke
volumes and told her the farm was not a topic for discussion. As always the
havoc in his life pinched her chest.

“By the way, did I happen
to tell y
ou how crazy you are for driving in that
storm last night?” he asked in his typical calm voice.

“Yeah, but look how great
things turned out.” She nestled even closer to him, not quite ready to go.
Change that, she never wanted to let go. But it was inevita
ble. Night had fled. The sun, an unwanted guest, streamed
in through the windows. He laughed and squeezed her ass. “Speaking of that,
from what I remember, our morning sex tends to be pretty awesome.”

“We only had morning sex
once.” The words slipped off h
er tongue before she
realized what she had just said. Another reminder she had left him waiting that
night. Dread knotted her stomach. His body tensed next to hers and Claire
silently cursed herself over her thoughtless act.

“Right,” he said, and her
heart
ached at the hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Forrest…”

“Sshh…”

Her breath hitched. She
swallowed the pain tugging in her heart. After a long silence, he rolled over
and pinned her beneath him. His hands stretched her arms above her head. A
strong, muscl
ed thigh spread her legs, opening her
for him.

He stared at her, his
expression the usual composed and collected. One of these days, she’d have to
ruffle him a bit.

“Another
round?”
She arched her back and tried to free one hand from his
grasp. With a little push of his ass forward, he’d be inside her.

“In a minute,” he said and
gently squeezed her hands, telling her to stay that way.

The
control.
It frustrated and drove her wild all
at once.
“Now.”

“Let me look at you.”

He took his time too,
letting his eyes move from her face down to her breasts. Claire sucked in a
breath, feeling her nipples straining under his stare. Then his gaze flicked to
her face, intense and unwavering.

They
lay together like that for a moment. When he spoke, his
voice was a little hoarse, but filled with conviction. “No more discussion of
the past. No more apologies. It’s about here and now. Good?”

She wanted to touch him so
badly, but her hands were still st
retched over her
head. “Let me touch you.”

Something flickered in
those mesmerizing eyes of his. “Are we good?”

“We’re good, Doc.”

Dropping his head to her
neck, his mouth blazed a path over her throat and collarbone. She tilted her
waist so that his erect
ion pressed right against her
core. Forrest let out a low groan and rubbed his jaw to hers before finding his
way to her breasts. In the next moment he was inside her, sliding in and out
and making her want to weep with ecstasy.

A while
later, Claire sat
on the walnut-colored leather
barstool in Forrest’s kitchen, scrolling through her emails and text messages
while lingering over that first cup of morning coffee.

“Anything important?” he
asked while mixing the pancake batter.

“Minka sent a group text
aski
ng to meet for lunch.”

“Great. Have fun.”

“You’re on the text as
well,” she said carefully. “They go for the ultrasound today.”

He nodded. His face, hard
as nails, revealed nothing. “I'll reach out to Minka.”

Crestfallen, her head
sagged down to her chest.
She sent a quick text
responding she’d be there.

“Anything else?” he asked.

Feeling his gaze on her,
Claire rearranged her face into something she hoped was nonchalant and
casual-looking and answered, “Other than that, my schedule is all clear.”

After a l
ong stare, he focused his attention back on the stove. She
pressed back the nagging thoughts that sooner or later, the topic of Jason
would have to be discussed. Both men meant a lot to her. Once upon a time
they’d been best friends.

She watched Forrest mo
ve with efficiency between the stove and the pantry. He was
immaculately proportioned, part sculpture, part human–a man set apart by the
alignment of muscle and bone beneath skin. All of her life, she watched people
edge around his walls as if mindful of t
he signs, do
not touch. But she had touched and kissed every inch of him. Well, there was
one part of him she wanted in her mouth, that‘d make him lose all that
imperturbable calm.

They had time.
Possibly forever.

For now, she’d savor this
moment. There wa
s something incredibly sexy about the
whole thing. From the fact her morning outfit consisted only of one of his
well-worn alma mater tees, to the hiss of the boiling teapot, and Forrest
barefoot, in worn jeans and a navy blue Boston Red Sox World Series C
hampions tee, preparing breakfast.

She leaned forward and
rested her elbows on the oak kitchen island, totally caught in a trance. He
placed a stack of freshly made blueberry pancakes oozing with butter in front
of her,
then
poured hot maple syrup
over it.
She inhaled the rich, invigorating aroma,
tempting her tummy.

“I know you said you can
drive to town,” he said, sliding on to the stool next to her, “but I’d like to
drive you.”

She glanced out the window
to see a white valley under blue, sunlit skies lea
ding
to Lake Tashmoo. The storm left at least eight inches of snow behind, covering
every tree, rock, or leaf in sugary frost. The view was wondrous, calm, and
quiet. Exactly how she felt inside. As for the drive out of the acres of
woodland to the main ro
ad, that should be
interesting.

“What about my car? I’d
have to get it sooner or later.”

He forked a piece of
pancake. “I can pick you up wherever you are.”

Not wanting to jump to
conclusion, Claire pressed her palm against her stomach, silencing the
butterflies batting their fragile wings. “You want me to
stay the night?”

He met her questioning
gaze. “Yes.”

And her belly flipped.

“When do you leave for
L.A.?” he
asked,
his attention back to his
plate.

“I’m here until next
week,” she answered, her mind
still reeling from the
overnight invitation.

He glanced at her. “You’re
hoping you win the auction this weekend.”

She smiled. “I’m going to
win.” That she had no doubt about. It was everything that came after that left
her a little on the uneasy side. “We
are going to
have a date and a few more after.”

His jaw bunched and
ticked. “Stay here with me until then,” he said after a long beat.

* * * *

He saw the shock register
on her face before a small smile played on her lips. He shocked the hell out of
her
with the proposition. That was okay because he
nearly toppled over the second the words left his mouth.

She looked at him. Her
brown eyes warm and sweet, like hot chocolate on a cold night at a football
game. “I’d love to,” she said in a whisper.

He nodded
and focused on the stack of pancakes, ignoring the way his
heart kicked a little. Okay a lot, over the knowledge for the next ten days or
so, it was all about Claire.

Fucking
heart.

No need wasting any effort
of telling the stupid muscle not to confuse go
od sex,
really good sex, great sex actually, with anything else. Not when it came to
Claire
.
W
ith her, sex was always more than just the physical
connection.

And Forrest thought he’d
been in total control. Well, the joke was on him. In spite of his best ef
forts to hold back, he fell in love all over again. Let’s
be honest, he never fell out of love.