Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (13 page)

He did, cupping her breast while brushing one sensitive nipple with his thumb until it hardened into a tight peak. All the while, he continued his gentle assault on her mouth, tasting her moist heat. When she moaned softly, he took the sound deep inside of him, into a place she’d already reached.

He wanted to feel her gentle hands, wanted her to learn the feel of him as he had her. What he needed, he realized, was to know she wanted him, too. The blood rushing through him, demanding an immediate response, attested to his desire.

Through the haze of need, he realized she hadn’t done more than run her hands along his bare back. He lifted his head and drew a deep breath.

She gazed at him through passion-filled eyes. Though he liked what he saw, he wondered why she held back. “Touch me,” he whispered.

Her eyes, which seemed heavy only seconds before, opened wide. He traced her moist lips with one finger. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

“What is it?” With his voice and movements, he attempted to strengthen the trust he had seen in her eyes.

“I don’t know... I mean...” Her voice trailed off, her cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment.

She was wonderfully responsive, but hadn’t initiated any physical contact. He suspected her marriage had taught her little about sex and even less about making love. Though he knew plenty about the act itself, he might know as little as Chelsie about the emotions involved. Until now, he hadn’t cared enough to learn.

He reached for her hand and held on tight. “You don’t have to know anything except what feels right for you.”

“Teach me.” Her words came out a combination of a plea and a dare. She probably didn’t realize they’d be charting new territory together.

“Just feel,” he whispered. With a gentle brush of his fingertips, he closed her eyelids. Long lashes fluttered against her cheeks.

“I want to know if your skin feels like silk.” He let his fingers trail along her inner thigh, over the softness of her skin. Her muscles quivered enticingly beneath his touch, making his slow exploration even more difficult to maintain.

“I want to know if you taste sweet.” He dipped his head and caught one nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled around twice, before he tugged gently with his teeth. She whimpered with undisguised need.

“So,” she said in a husky voice, “if I want to know exactly how much you want me, all I have to do...” Her seductive voice trailed off at the same moment her hand cupped him through his briefs.

He exhaled a slow groan, feeling desire swell and grow beneath her fingertips. “I should have known you’d be a quick student,” he said on a ragged breath.

She chuckled, her eyes alight with laughter and a sense of liberation and satisfaction he hadn’t seen there before.

“Number one in my graduating class.” As she spoke, her expression sobered, causing the light to dim. “But if this isn’t what you bargained for, it’s not too late to back out.”

Her hand lay on his hard length, his body throbbed with unsatisfied need, yet she still offered him a way out. “What the hell was it like for you?” he asked, harsher than he intended.

“Short, quick, and to the point.” Chelsie closed her eyes, her humiliation complete.
Not quite
, she reminded herself. Sex was another area in which she never quite managed to satisfy her husband. What she felt for Griff surpassed anything in previous experience, which would make disappointing him so much harder to bear.

“Never again,” he murmured softy, brushing his lips with hers. As if keeping his promise, he seduced her with his mouth, his tongue darting in and out, feasting on her mouth with gentle but insistent determination.

His hands worked similar magic, seemingly everywhere at once. She didn’t know which part of her body trembled. Her skin burned, yet she craved more of his touch. More of Griff.

She allowed him to carry her away, to a place where sensation ruled and rational thoughts were not permitted to intrude. This time, she participated, refusing to allow old insecurities and inhibitions to matter. After spending the night wrapped in his arms, separated only by a thin layer of cotton, Chelsie couldn’t stand the wait.

She surprised him by removing his briefs herself, then raised her arms and allowed him to slowly peel off her shirt. He paused to taste every inch of exposed skin, lingering over extra-sensitive areas until she begged him to hurry. He then removed her lace panties with the same exquisite care, tantalizing and teasing until she cried out his name and pulled him up for a long, hot kiss.

Griff settled himself between her thighs, the tip of his erection pressed against her in a definite promise of more to come. The emotional intimacy they’d shared surpassed the physical, stunning her, considering they hadn’t yet made love. And though the notion frightened her, she wanted him too much to back out now.

“Chelsie?”

He raised himself up on his elbows, taking his upper body weight off her. Though she missed the feel of his warmth pressing against her breasts, her lower body was on fire. He pulsed against her, making her ache with need.

“Hmm?” she asked, barely capable of a coherent word, let alone a coherent thought.

“Protection. It’s in the drawer.”

“Don’t need it,” she murmured, out of her mind with wanting him, needing him inside her.

An instant later, he thrust into her, realizing her silent plea. For Chelsie, this might as well have been her first time. He filled more than a simple need. He filled her heart. She closed her eyes against the truth, but the tears she held back mocked her effort.

Before long, the feel of him gliding inside her had her writhing with the need for more. And then sensation took over, obliterating all thought except how right he felt inside her.

Griff felt her quiver around him, felt her climb towards completion. He opened his eyes to watch her glistening face as she spiraled into a world that only he could share.

And he did, knowing the entire time that life after Chelsie would be drastically different than the life he had known before. His climax came with hers, unbelievably shattering in intensity. Unbelievably right

He held her in his arms afterwards and felt her trembling. He remained silent. Words seemed inadequate. She’d been married and divorced; he’d been with his own share of women, a fiancée included. So why did he feel as if this time were the first? And why did that seem so damned important?

Because first times could never be repeated. And first
loves
never died. So now what?

Alix let out an ear-piercing shriek. Griff knew better than to ignore his niece and welcomed the few minutes alone.

“I’ll get her.” Without meeting her gaze, he untangled himself from Chelsie and gritted his teeth when the cool air hit his naked skin.

In silence, she slipped out of the bed and closed herself in his bathroom. He drew a steadying breath as the door clicked shut behind her. After donning a pair of jeans, he grabbed the shirt she’d been wearing. He pulled it over his head, but the chill remained.

Chelsie’s warmth, which had been a part of him just minutes before, seemed long gone. And he missed her.

Griff returned quickly, before Chelsie could have a chance to formulate any regrets. The strength of what they’d shared stunned him. He knew they needed to deal with the aftereffects before either could place too much—or too little—emphasis on making love.

He plopped Alix down on the center of the mattress and rejoined Chelsie in bed. Alix rolled and flopped around on the large bed, apparently happy to be out of the confining crib.

Her dark eyes met his. From her expression, she, too, recognized that this was hardly the usual morning after. Whatever he was about to say got cut off by Alix, who threw herself into his arms. Her cheerful babble provided the only buffer between the two adults.

“Hey, squirt. What do you say you play on the floor a while. I’ve got some business to take care of.” He placed her on the carpet beside the bed where he had a ready stack of toys for her to play with.

“No.” Alix climbed back onto the bed with little agility but lots of gusto. At six-thirty in the morning, he had to admire her spunk.

Chelsie smiled, but the emotion didn’t reach her eyes.

“At times like these, it’s hard to imagine life with more than one kid.” He ruffled Alix’s soft curls with his hand.

“Is that what you want
^?
” Chelsie asked.

He paused to think. One look at his niece and he had his answer. “Yeah.” He gave Alix a playful tug on her hair.

Griff glanced at Chelsie, realizing for the first time that she had retreated to the far end of the bed. She’d changed into her sweatshirt and jeans from the day before, covering the body that he’d memorized inch by tantalizing inch. He didn’t like the not-so-subtle message she projected.

“Scram, squirt,” he whispered in Alix’s ear. The little girl climbed between Griff and Chelsie. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”

Alix smiled, showing the dimples that charmed everyone she met, then reached for Chelsie’s hair. “Mommy.”

Griff groaned. But to his surprise, the knife-like pain that usually accompanied Alix’s pleas for her mother had dulled somewhat. In large part, he suspected, he owed that step forward to the woman sitting next to him.

“It’s Aunt Chelsie. You know that.” Reaching over, he ruffled the little girl’s hair.

He looked over his niece’s head to smile at Chelsie. She met his gaze, but in her eyes, he saw the haunted look he’d come to recognize and hate at the same time. He couldn’t come up with one reason for her to have withdrawn.

“Give me a few minutes to get her settled and we’ll talk,” he whispered.

Chelsie shook her head. “I’m late.” She scrambled out of bed.

“At”—he glanced at the clock—”six-forty? Where could you possibly have to be on a Sunday morning?”

“The shelter.” She gazed at his nightstand, a ploy clearly enabling her to avoid his stare.

“I thought you were sticking around to take care of us.”

She looked from Alix, who chattered happily, back to Griff. “Both of you look much better. And clearly you have the energy to take care of her.”

“So you’re running away.”

“Leaving for a while.”

“You’ll be back?”

Her silence hit him like a slap in the face. “Don’t let us keep you, then.”

His icy tone must have melted some of her barriers. “Please don’t make this harder,” she pleaded.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t. We went into this like two adults. As I recall, I asked you to be sure. So what’s with the sudden withdrawal?”

Her frantic gaze again darted to Alix and back to him. “Just give me some space, okay? I’ll be back. I promise.”

“Okay.” What choice did he have? He’d never force a woman who didn’t want to stay and he’d never hold on to a woman in that much pain. Looking at Chelsie’s trembling body, he knew that she was.

His first instinct had been to cast her in the role of villain, as the woman who deserted him like his mother and ex-fiancée. He could no longer accept that explanation. He’d come to know Chelsie well in the last few weeks, even better in the last twenty-four hours. Her role in the custody hearing no longer tortured his thoughts. She’d made her own way without the help of her parents, chosen a career that benefited others and not herself.

He even understood her role in the custody hearing now, understood why and believed her regrets. Family was important to her. The caring woman he’d come to know wouldn’t turn down her parents’ request for help. The irony was she’d lost them anyway. In all the time they’d been together with Alix, she’d never once mentioned her family or their abrupt departure for Florida. According to Ryan, charity functions were rampant down there this time of year. Chelsie’s priorities he understood. Theirs he didn’t.

But there was more to Chelsie than her caring nature. Something haunted her, had kept her from her sister and niece before, and caused her to run now, which led him to the possibility she was running from herself and not from him.

The probability didn’t lessen the feelings of abandonment he’d hoped never to experience again, but the knowledge allowed him to let her go in peace. He, too, could use the time to sort out his jumbled emotions.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He shrugged, but said nothing. Ignoring her seemed the easiest means of blocking his pain. She reached down and retrieved her sneakers from the floor.

He leaned back against the pillows and shut his eyes, waiting until he heard the thud of the bedroom door before opening them again. The noise emphasized the point. He was alone.

C
helsie drove for hours, seeking solace that eluded her. She’d get lost, circle the same roads four or five times, find her way, and just keep going. She had nowhere else to turn.

Her work, always an escape, was now tied to Griff. Her office, her papers, her things all sat in boxes in the upstairs of his house. Though she could go back to the city, her tiny apartment held little appeal. She’d furnished her cold apartment as a reminder. The decor clearly stated this was no place for a child.

Until this morning, the reminder had worked. The sterile, glass environment she’d purposefully created was home to the woman she’d been before she had accepted Griffin Stuart’s offer. Before she’d been foolish enough to make love with him.

That woman had known she’d never have children, a family, a warm place to call home. She’d known better than to become a part of something she could never have. The minute Griff had brought the little girl into the bed, as if they were a family,
her family
, Chelsie’s orderly world had tipped precariously off balance. When he’d indicated his preference to have more children, her world disintegrated before her.

For the first time, she’d dared to want something she could never have. She should have known better. She made a U-turn and headed towards Boston. Maybe time alone in her apartment was exactly what she needed to set things right.

But when she walked into the stark, crystal-filled living room, she didn’t find the sense of peace she sought. She found the truth. The place she called home wasn’t. Chelsie was alone.