Come Alive (16 page)

His hand slid behind my neck and stayed there, demanding
my eyes on him. “Wrap yourself around me,” he said. I squeezed his shoulders and
crossed my legs behind him. He gasped in a way that sounded almost pained when
I undulated faster. “That’s it,” he panted. His hands fixed possessively over
my hips and guided me onto him. Giving the control over to him drove me quickly
to the edge.

I dropped my head into the crook of his neck.
“Yes,” I breathed against him. Without thinking I bit his shoulder, and he let
out a guttural groan. His hands jumped up to my waist, urging our bodies to
meet faster as his fingers flexed into my skin.

“I can feel your body reacting,” he whispered
fiercely with the tightening of my insides. “I can feel you getting close.”

I looked into his face and began to convulse.
Everything I had been bottling released into my bloodstream, seeping into my
bones, begging for an outlet. “David,” I cried with stuttered breaths, crushing
his shoulders with my hands.

“I’m here, baby,” he responded, his own voice
ragged and shallow. “Let go. I’m here.” Our fingers dug into each other at the
same moment. Holding my gaze, he growled from his chest, and I bore down on
him. His muscles tensed and contracted underneath my hands, and I watched,
rapt, as he gave in. The raw pleasure in his face as he climaxed sent me flying
over the edge. I came onto him with a body-wracking orgasm that shot waves from
my core to the surface of my skin. As my body heated with bliss, I called out for
only him. Months of simmering loneliness bubbled over, and I collapsed into his
arms with unsolicited sobs.

He wrapped me up tightly as his shoulders heaved
with deep breaths. “I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he repeated into my hair. “I’ve
got you.”

I tangled my fingers in his chest hair and released
the pain the only way I could: all at once and with unstoppable force. His
hands stroked my back, my hair, but his clutch never loosened. His arms easily
engulfed me, and though I was in pain, I’d never felt safer than curled into
his embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” I said finally, when I’d caught
my breath.

He let the words hang for a moment. “Never
apologize,” he responded, rocking me against him. “Do you hear me? How can you
apologize for that?”

“Oh, David,” I moaned into his skin. He rested
his forehead against my sternum, rubbing the still-tingling skin of my back. “What
are we going to do?” I asked in a rush of breath. I wasn’t sure if he heard,
because he never responded.

Eventually, he rolled us both to set me on my
back. He disconnected from me, tossed the condom aside and propped his head
above mine with his hand. His fingers played with my hair, pushing it back on
to the pillow as he looked down at me.

“I don’t always cry after sex,” I said, an empty
attempt at humor. “Just with you apparently.”

“You can’t help your reaction.”

I studied the man above me, still in disbelief
that he was, in fact, above me. He concentrated on my hair, raking his hands
through the tangles as best he could. “I wish I could help it,” I said.

“Why? Just let go. You don’t need to manage
yourself with me.”

I sighed and dropped my gaze. “
With you
, I have no control.”

“I told you before, I like you this way.
Unguarded. Undone.” I bathed in his adoration; his fingers in my hair, his
sweet but fleeting words. Already, the guilt was building inside of me,
demanding my acknowledgment,
trying
to break the
moment. As if he were listening to my thoughts, he said softly, “I want to take
all your sadness away.”

My
chin quivered, and I pressed my fingertips to my eyes to stem any more tears.
It’s been so hard, David.

“I
know,” he said. He encircled my wrists and carefully pulled my hands from my
face. “I know.”

I
blinked up at him. Had I said it aloud?

He
placed a hand on the base of my neck and kissed me, claiming me with that one
gesture. “Baby, I can’t fix it if you won’t let me.” His eyes searched mine,
and I looked away.

“Don’t
turn away from me.”

“I
can’t,” I whispered. “It’s too much.” I went to sit up, but his hand on my
chest pushed me back into the pillow.

“I
said don’t turn away. Look at me.”

My
jaw clenched; in that moment, I wasn’t strong enough to keep the hurt off my
face, and I didn’t want him to see it. But his hand slid up to my chin, and he
turned me to him. His expression was stern, but there was concern in his eyes.
“I want to make it better.”

With
my face still secure in his grip, I said, “You can’t. You can’t fix it. This
can never be anything but broken.”

“To
hear you say that . . . It kills me.”

“But
it’s true. We’re headed for disaster. Even if I walk away right now, too much
has happened already.”

His
brows dipped. “Are you going to walk away?”

My
chin was quivering again, and he rubbed it with his thumb. “How can I?” I
whispered. “How can I not?”

“These
have been the longest months of my life.”

“For
me too,” I said in a breath.

“I
don’t think I could give you up again.”

“But
you
have
to. We’re all going to get
hurt.”

“I’ll
do whatever it takes so that you don’t.”

His
hand slid down my sternum, but I held his gaze. “Even if it means letting me
go?”

He
cleared his throat and looked up at the headboard. His answer sounded far off,
as if from a distance. “Would that make it better?”

“It’s
just too late,” I said, unwelcome tears spilling from the corners of my eyes.
“I did this to myself. But I don’t know how to make it stop. It – it hurts
to be away from you.”

His
face folded, and he cupped my cheek. “So don’t be away from me.”

I
curled under the shelter of his broad shoulders, hiding my face from him. “You
don’t know what you’re saying,” I said, holding back more tears with everything
I had.

“I
know exactly what I’m saying.”

“No,”
I said resolutely, clutching the pillow.
But
it hurts so much.

He
enclosed around my quaking shoulders, littering my hair with kisses until I
slept.

CHAPTER 15

I
WOKE ABRUPTLY and shot upright. I was in the very big bed, and the breathtaking
city sprawled around me, but I didn’t care because I was alone. I eased out of
the bed and stood slowly. Had it not been for my surroundings, I would have
sworn it was all a vivid dream. I slipped into an oversized terrycloth robe and
slid open the door to the deck.

Hanging my toes over the edge of the pool, I
watched David complete a lap. He whipped his hair off his face to look up at
me. “Did I wake you?” he asked from below. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“No.” I shook my head dreamily. Steam spiraled
upward from the water; I was dizzy just from the way his wet, glistening body was
backlit by the glowing pool.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” he asked.

I sat and dipped my feet in the warm water. I
reached out and pushed his wet hair from his forehead. He moved between my
knees and slid his hands down my calves to shackle my ankles. Leaning back on
my palms, I closed my eyes at the feeling of his skin against mine. Our rooftop
was completely silent, and I just heard the splash of water as he brought his
hands back up, gliding them along my thighs and underneath my robe.

My
breath quickened as he untied it and grasped my waist. He slid me to the edge
with ease. His head buried in my lap while I fingered his dripping, inky hair. He
eased my thighs apart to nuzzle me. I bit down on my lip when I felt his
breath, soft and tantalizing.

With
his first firm lick, my arms buckled. He tasted me slowly, stopping now and
then to suck and kiss. With an ankle in each hand, he bent my knees so my feet
curled over the edge. His arms wrapped around my hips, securing me to him. When
his nose nudged into my clit, I jerked against his firm hold. He inserted and
spread two fingers to open me wider. His tongue probed inside of me with more
pressure, and my legs began to shake.

At
some point I’d fallen onto the concrete and was now clenching the lip of the
pool with tense arms. With his mouth working its magic and his thumb on my
clit, he coaxed me into rippling, full-body orgasm that had my back bowing off
the ground and my throat surrendering to loud moans.

As
I lay limp, he pulled my arms from the robe and lifted me. He slid me down his
body and into the pool until I was submerged. I resurfaced dripping wet. His
hand touched my face, holding me steady for a deep, penetrating kiss. The cold
night air and heated pool were a heady mix that had my head spinning.

“Look
down.”

“Oh,”
I gasped breathlessly. I instinctively clung to him when I saw that he had swum
us to the overhang.

“It’s
safe,” he reassured, but he held me close. A thrill spiraled through me as I
peered down at the city. His feet planted firmly on the glass bottom, but I
knew I would be treading water if I let go.

He
was looking at me strangely.
Something fiery, but deep and
sensual.
“You’re so beautiful,” he told me softly. “Do you have any idea
what you do to me?” I wanted to look away; it was too much – but his
burning brown eyes, his dripping wet lashes, his razorblade jawline . . . He
was so arrestingly beautiful in that moment. He licked his lips, curled a hand
into my wet hair and pulled. “Christ,” he murmured. “I need you now.” Hearing
him voice his desire turned my insides liquid. He devoured my neck with hard,
unforgiving kisses that strayed over my shoulders and up to my earlobe.

He
cut us through the water and out of the pool. He deposited our bodies quickly
onto a lounge chair with an outstretched hand.

“Cold?”
he asked, breathing heavily over me.

“No,”
I replied, because when I was underneath him, I could never be anything but
warm. I wrapped my legs around him and cried out as he drove into me with a
grunt.

He
dropped his face into the curve of neck and stilled. “God, you feel amazing
wrapped around my cock,” he panted. “You’re so warm.”

When
a breeze blew over us, I locked my ankles at his lower back, pulling him
closer. “
Christ
, Olivia.” He rolled
his hips into me and pulled back to the tip. His eyes locked on me, and his
next stroke was firm but slow. My face flamed feeling his every inch move into
me and then out again. His hand moved to my hips, steadying me for his next powerful
plunge. He rooted himself there, gritted his teeth and squeezed me against him.
“Deep enough?”

“It’s
d-deep,” I stammered, because I was so full with him I thought I might split
apart. “Don’t stop.”

His
thrusts continued steady and firm, the perfect complement to his soft and
buttery voice. “I’m so hard for you,” he muttered, nibbling my ear. “So hard,
and you’re so hot.”

I
was still thrumming from my first orgasm, and my climax built quickly. I almost
came when he began to swivel his pelvis, feeling all of me with each rotation.

“You’re
close,” he said as he switched from swiveling to short, fast drives. “Kiss me.”

Our
lips clashed hungrily, and I could taste his desire for me. “Show me how it
feels,” he ordered into my mouth. “Come, Olivia.” My name rolled off his tongue
with command, turning my world on its side. I clenched around him as he pounded
me through a pulsing orgasm. Despite the cold, I was warm and flushed when I
wilted against the cushion.

“You
feel too goddamn good,” he said through a set jaw while grinding faster into
me.

I
dove my hands in his hair and pulled. “I want you to come, David, come inside
me, make me yours.”

“Not
without,” he paused as his face contorted with pleasure, “a condom.”

“Then
come in my mouth.”

He
groaned loudly and jumped up before I’d even finished the sentence. I went to
touch him, but he stopped me with a hand around my wrist. “I want you on your
knees,” he growled. I climbed down onto the hard concrete, and he took my chin
in his hand. “Open.”

I
obeyed, and he inched into me. He threw his head back when I closed my lips
around him. I circled my tongue around the tip before taking him as deeply as I
could.

“That’s
it, baby,” he praised. His fingers threaded in my hair and pulled. “How do you
taste on my cock? Hmm? Look at me.”

I
blinked my eyes up to his.

He
hissed and jerked slightly but held my stare. My tongue ran over every glorious
inch I could reach. I pushed him to the back of my throat and stroked with my
hand whatever I couldn’t taste. “Hands behind your back,” he admonished.

Oh God, I love the way you rumble
when you tell me what to do. Take me, use me, have me, David, I’m yours . .
. .

He
fisted my hair tighter and with one thrust, he took over. I sheathed my teeth
with my lips, and he pushed himself to the back of my throat until I gagged. He
pulled back but continued fucking my mouth, his moans low and throaty.

“Oh
God, I’m
gonna
come so
fucking hard,” he warned. My tongue flattened against his crown, and his body
shook as he began to ejaculate. I lapped up the first few drops before he
yanked my hair and erupted into my eager mouth. I swallowed him as I could get
him, letting the saltiness fill my mouth and run down my throat.

“Holy
shit,” he breathed, loosening his grip. I waited on my knees while he caught
his breath. He hauled me up by my armpits and kissed me hard. “That was so
good,” he started, “it should be illegal.”

“I’d
happily go to jail for that.”

He
smiled and kissed me again as his hands slid down my arms. He interlocked one
hand with mine, and ran the other over my hair, tugging softly on the ends.
“Are you cold?”

I
nodded. He led me back into the suite and gestured once at the toilet. Remembering
his rule about peeing after sex, I rolled my eyes but sat down anyway.

“How about a nice hot shower?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” I rasped, not yet recovered.

I found him moments later cloaked in billowing
steam. “Come on, pretty girl,” he said, opening his arms. The heat of both the
water and his hard body was heavenly after the cold night air. He planted a
sweet kiss on my lips when I looked up at him. “You drive me mad,” he
whispered.

I smiled into his mouth and just said,
“Likewise.”

His hands moved over my face, and my eyelids
drooped shut. He smoothed my hairline repeatedly and kissed me carefully. “I
never want to let you go,” he murmured.

Though his words were warm, a chill wound
through me. Our bond was strengthening alarmingly fast. He ran his thumbs over
my eyebrows. I opened my eyes cautiously, because I knew what I would see on
his face: something stronger and more intense than I was prepared to accept. As
water dripped from his long lashes, I remembered when our eyes met for the
first time and the jolt of electricity I’d felt.
What does he see when he looks at me that way?

I rested my cheek against his solid
pecs
and clung to him as he massaged shampoo into my hair.
I was content to just listen to his heartbeat while he cleansed me.

“I need conditioner,” I said against his chest
when he’d finished.

“You
need
conditioner?”
he teased, but he ran it through my strands, lovingly working out the tangles.
I still didn’t move when he washed his own hair. My eyes squeezed shut as the
suds slithered down his skin and onto my face.

When he shut off the water, I let him go
reluctantly. He wrapped a large white towel around his waist and held another
open for me.
I prefer his skin,
I
thought, but let him envelop me in it. He ran his hands over my shoulders to
warm me and moved some hair from my face. “We should get your hair dry.”

“It’s all right,” I said and yawned. “I’m
tired.”

“You can’t sleep with wet hair.”

“It’ll dry before I get home,” I reassured him.

His face fell, and he stepped back with my
shoulders still firmly in his hands. “You’re going home?”

“Well, yes, I have to. I can get a cab.”

“Isn’t Bill . .
. ?
”
His mouth distorted as though he’d bitten into a lemon. “Isn’t he out of town?”

“He’ll be back sometime tomorrow.” I glanced away.

“Well,” David said and exhaled an irritated
laugh, “if you think I’m letting you go home alone at this time of night, then
you’d better think again.”

I furrowed my brows at him. “I’m not a child. I
can get myself back in one piece.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Think about that
one.”

I nodded. “Okay, you have a point, but the
confrontation with Mark was a fluke. He’s behind bars, and that’s all over.”

He shook his head. “Not going to happen. If you must
go, I’ll drive you.”

I shifted on my feet, weighing my options. I was
so sleepy, and David was so warm and comfortable . .
. .
Guilt and desire were constantly battling inside me, overcoming one another,
tormenting
me in the process.

“Come on,” he said with a sigh. “One step at a
time.” He pulled a hair dryer from a drawer and motioned me over. I stood in
front of him tilting my head upward as he raked a hand through my hair. “Just
tell me if I hurt you.”

His eyebrows dipped as he concentrated, careful
not to pull while he detangled my hair. It made me smile to think that he’d
just been pulling it much harder without a second thought. And I’d loved the
uninhibited rawness of it.

“Keep smiling like that, and I might have to
bend you over this sink.” He gave my hair a playful tug when I widened my eyes.
I took the rare moment to appreciate the man in front of me. The shampoo made
him smell fresh like early morning. His
pecs
flexed
in unison with his biceps as his arms moved over me. I admired the lines of the
square jaw just inches above my head that gave way to a long neck and
sprawling, muscled shoulders . .
. .

I quivered and ducked backward, hoisting myself
onto the counter. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him to the sink. “Your
turn,” I said, taking the hairdryer.

He inhaled appreciatively when I stuck my
fingers in his hair, which was really only damp. He kissed my nose.

“Now, now,” I scolded. “I take blow jobs very
seriously. No one goes to bed with wet hair tonight.”

He laughed with his whole body, and I secured
him closer, locking my feet against his lower back. We were level now, and his
eyes watched me closely; I could feel them even though I kept my
focus
on his silken hair. Once I’d finished, I set the blow
dryer on the sink and styled his hair away from his eyes. My own hair was messy,
but it didn’t matter. How could it be bad when he’d fixed it himself?

He pulled on my towel so it fell open. His eyes
closed, and he leaned in to inhale deeply, as if committing my smell to memory.
He placed a kiss on the underside of my jaw. Curious hands explored me,
touching wherever he could reach. I flinched when he passed over my scar.