Выбрать главу

“Alec . . .” Explosion loomed. Her muscles coiled.

He groaned into her ear. Thrust harder, more urgent. “Again. Say my name again.”

Right now, probably at any given time, she’d give him whatever he wanted, any time he asked. Because no one had ever made it like this. Life, companionship, friends . . . sex. Never before. “Alec.”

“Faith.”

That pushed her off the edge of the cliff. Him saying her name with need through gritted teeth, barely holding on himself. She tumbled off into sweet, sweet oblivion. He tensed against her while the aftershocks trembled, rocked, and finally settled.

Alec let go of her hands and cupped her bottom to spin around and slide to the floor. He stretched his legs out and leaned against the wall. The back of his head landed with a thud.

She straddled his thighs and rested her cheek on his shoulder. They stayed like that, him stroking her back and her toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, until the air-conditioning kicked in with a whirl and she shivered.

“Alec?”

“Hmm?”

She sighed happily. “You can make your own fireworks anytime.”

He laughed in that rusty, rough sound she loved and wrapped her deeper into his embrace. “You got it.”

chapter

twenty-one

Alec opened his eyes and winced at the sunlight streaming through the window. The edges of sleep drained away as he ran his hand down Faith’s back. Warm, supple female. Waking up and having her curled against his side, the scent of her and their lovemaking still in his nose, caused the knots in his chest to loosen.

He hadn’t slept with a woman—actually slept—since Laura was still around. This was different, waking up with Faith. Though not needy by any means, Faith was more giving. Laura had never wanted to cuddle. When they were done having sex, Laura would roll to her side of the bed and Alec to his.

He and Faith were still in the middle of the bed, legs and arms entwined, their breathing the only sound. He hadn’t had anything or nearly anyone to hold on to in . . . well, ever. Yet instead of panic and uncertainty, a sense of rightness settled over him.

Faith had so much passion and possibility bottled up inside, just waiting for someone to uncork it. She’d come undone in his arms. Exploded. She’d managed to uncork him, too, and he hadn’t even realized he’d been shelved. He wondered why no man before him had seen her openness, her true gift of healing. By his estimation, no one had ever seen her at all.

The knowledge made him want to show her how wonderful she was. She was real. More real than the majority of the population. Faith didn’t live by agenda or gain. She just, quite simply, felt. She claimed she hadn’t lived, and maybe she hadn’t by certain standards, but there was more to the road of life than bucket lists and accumulating friends. She saw the wonder in little things. It was the most beautiful quality about her, the biggest draw. In a society of technology and fast tracks, she accumulated moments, almost as if storing them in her fascinating head to reflect on later. Nothing escaped her notice.

He’d been wondering from day one what about Faith was different, what had him coming back to her time and time again when it had always been so easy to just walk away before. She was the first person to actually see him. Not the author or the money or the man who screwed up by breaking everything he touched. Him. What was buried beneath.

Beside him, she started to stir. He stared at the dusting of freckles on her nose against her pale skin, her sleep-flushed cheeks and pink mouth, wondering how to avoid fucking up this gorgeous creature.

She stretched her slim body before she buried her face in his chest, all without even opening her eyes. “You’re still here,” she murmured against his skin.

It pissed him off how she never expected attention. Or anyone to stick around. He reined in the anger because that wasn’t her fault. “I am.” Right here where he wanted to be—however much that scared the shit out of him.

She lifted her head and offered a sleepy smile.

His heart turned over in his chest. He cupped her jaw and kissed her. A long, deep, soul-searing kiss that had more than his dick stirring. Her fingers drove into his hair, holding him there as if anticipating he’d pull away. Yeah, that was the problem. He couldn’t pull away from her. Hadn’t been able to for weeks now. Hell, he’d tried.

Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he sheathed himself and rolled her beneath him. They’d made love sitting up and against the wall, but having her under him, pliant and ready with her brown hair spread over the white sheets and looking at him through those amber eyes, was the equivalent of a maelstrom. Heady, powerful lust coursed through him, making him quake.

She cupped his jaw and brushed her thumbs across his lips. Parting her thighs, she rubbed her sweet heat against the underside of his dick. “What are you thinking about?” She put the tip of her finger between his brows, smoothing a wrinkle.

“The absence of thought, actually. Whenever you’re around me, even when you’re not, you seem to . . .” He broke off and looked down at her, unable to finish what he’d started. It wasn’t fair to her to do this, to throw any more emotion into the already heady mix.

He kissed her until there was no air, aligned himself, and thrust inside. He stilled to give her a minute, although his body screamed at him to move. To claim. Her heat gripped him in a tight fist and all he could do was whisper her name and pinch his eyes closed.

A warm kiss pressed to one eyelid and then the other before her lips drifted across his cheek to his ear. “You’re my only thought, too.”

“Faith . . .”

“Not now, Alec. Just make love to me. The rest comes later.”

The sentiment bothered him, ate away at his gut. So he moved inside her because doing that brought peace. He made love to her slow and languid, with passion he didn’t know existed. And when they collapsed on the bed, a sweaty, tangled mass of limbs, he didn’t know if they were even two separate people anymore.

Eventually, Faith got up and padded to the bathroom. He shoved on his shorts and went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She came in moments later, wearing a T-shirt—his shirt—and nothing else. He drew in a sharp inhale that did nothing to stop his rapid pulse.

She stilled after seeing his expression and looked down at herself. “I’ll put on something else in a minute. I didn’t want to walk around naked.”

“Leave it on.”

“Are you sure? I—”

“Yes. Leave it on.”

He’d just had her moments ago, but he wanted her again. In theory, the desire for her should be fading by now. That’s how it had always been. Once he’d had a woman, the craving for a repeat was gone. But his desire for Faith only grew.

Shaking his head, he handed her a cup of tea and poured himself some coffee. When he turned back, she was staring at him. “What?”

“You made me tea.”

So he had. Until she’d pointed it out, he hadn’t really noticed. He shrugged.

She took a sip and lifted her brows. “With one spoonful of honey.”

Where the hell was she going with this? “That’s how you drink it, right?”

“Yes.” As if unable to stand any longer, she made her way to a chair and collapsed into it. Something like shock laced with grief spread over her face as she rubbed her temples. Her face drained of color. “Excuse me a minute, please.” She fled from the room.

He stared at her cup abandoned on the table and then the empty doorway. Stood there for several minutes, in fact. And then, like a smack upside the head, he understood.

He set down his cup and strode after her, finding her dressed and perched at the edge of the bed, holding her cell phone with shaking hands.

“Twenty-seven years and they can’t remember I hate broccoli. Six weeks and you know how I drink my tea.” She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. “What’s wrong with me?”