After years of neglect at Owen’s hands? Sadly, yes.
“How much of what we shared was pretend?” Her voice was small, and she hated asking the question, but for her peace of mind, she had to know.
“Between us in bed naked, with me deep inside you?” He crouched in front of her. “Not a damn thing.”
Rachel slid her eyes shut. Her heart leapt at his words, and her mind pushed back. She hated this turmoil.
“Was I just a fling for you?” His question cut through her confusion. He sounded uncertain.
Wait. Was he actually worried that he hadn’t been meaningful to her?
She opened her eyes, falling into his blue stare, wanting to stay there forever. “No.”
“Thank fucking God.”
Before she could respond, Decker settled his arms under her knees and behind her back, then lifted her against his chest. He began to cart her down the hall.
“Wha . . . what are you doing?” she sputtered.
“Putting an end to this bullshit.”
Rachel gaped at him, her thoughts a muddle. What did he mean?
She didn’t have to wonder long.
Decker carried her into her bedroom and tossed her on the bed. On her way down, she saw his suitcase in the corner of the room, wide open. Half the contents were on the floor, as if the police really had conducted a search of his stuff.
He grabbed a few things from the little duffel and scooped them into his hand, enclosing whatever he held in his fist. She didn’t even have time to sit up and confront him about what in the heck he was doing. No, he lowered himself on top of her, tying her wrists to the slats in her headboard with two mismatched athletic socks he’d held.
“What the devil . . .” she demanded. “Decker!”
“The problem we’re having now is trust. You don’t really trust that I was protecting you from Christian. You sure as hell don’t believe I fell for you. Both are the absolute truth. Beautiful, you changed something for me.” He cupped her face. “No, you changed everything for me. If I’m not just a fling for you, and you’re mad that I lied, that has to mean that you care about me, too. Right?”
Good gravy, how could he figure her out so easily? “Bite me.”
“Love to. Where?” he grinned.
Teasing wasn’t going to work. She wasn’t going to fall for his sense of humor all over again, even if his warm body pinned her to the mattress, reminding her just how hard and built he was all over. How good he could make her feel.
Rachel just glared at him. “That is not funny.”
“No? How about this . . .” He kissed his way up her neck and murmured in her ear. “They should suspend your driver’s license because you drive me crazy.”
“Ha ha.” She was mad, damn it. And she wanted to stay mad until she decided otherwise. After the day she’d had, she deserved it.
“Still not moved? I’ll try again.” He caressed her cheek. “You must be the sun and I must be Earth, ’cause the closer we get, the hotter you get. Or maybe I should say that everything about you pulls me in.”
How was she supposed to reply to that? It was part offhand joke, part compliment. The truth was, everything about him pulled her in, too.
“You cannot give me more pick-up lines and think that’s going to make everything all better.”
“Not even a little?” He nipped at her lobe, then started unbuttoning her blouse. “Wanna fuck? Breathe for yes; lick your elbow for no.”
Seriously? With a growl, she tugged at her bonds, but Decker was good at bondage, like he was good at everything else. She wasn’t going anywhere until he decided to let her go.
“Stop it!”
But he didn’t. Once her blouse was open, he parted the sides and ran his hands down her lace-clad breasts, then up and under her back. He opened the clasp with a twist of his fingers, and the bra sagged away from her body. He pulled it loose and cupped her, thumbing her sensitive nipples.
Rachel bit back a moan. “Decker, I didn’t say yes.”
“You’re breathing, aren’t you?” He winked, then pulled a switchblade from his pocket. “Sorry. I’ll buy you a new one.”
Before she could wonder what that meant, he cut up through the straps of her bra and tossed the useless garment across the room.
“Hey!” she protested.
The only response Decker gave was to work his way down her body, pausing to kiss her nipples and stroke them with his tongue. She wanted to stay angry—really. But the way he delved into her gaze, so attentive and in tune with her, the way he touched her, like she was his everything . . .
Rachel wasn’t listening to his explanation. She’d made excuses for Owen for years, and didn’t want to be the same sort of stupid twice. On the other hand, could she let the best thing that ever happened to her walk out because she refused to have a conversation? No.
Then again, he didn’t seem to want to talk that much . . .
Suddenly, he crouched at the end of the bed and pulled her shoes off, then nipped at her toes. “I’m having a party at your feet, beautiful. I think I should invite your pants down to join.”
Despite herself, she laughed. “What if my pants are not in the mood for a party?”
Decker sent a sexy smirk her direction. “I can fix that. Wanna see?”
“What if my pants are busy?” she challenged.
“They aren’t yet, but give me ten minutes.”
“Incorrigible.” And impossible to stay mad at. “That’s what you are.”
“Yep.” He sent her a sly glare as he unfastened her pants, tugged at her zipper, then yanked the jeans down her thighs. Naturally, her panties followed, leaving her bare from the ankles up. “Is that what you’re going to tell your mama when I meet her?”
Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but he rubbed the heel of his palm right over her sweet spot. Her breath caught. Sparks and tingles zoomed right behind her clit, and she struggled to find her brain. “Why would you be meeting my mother?”
“If I’m going to stick around, I’ve got to.” He smiled softly at her . . . even as his hand played between her legs. “And believe me, I plan to be with you for a long time.”
“It’s really hard to think when you’re doing that.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Then don’t. Just look at me.”
The way his command caressed her, like supple velvet, had her complying. She focused on him. “What?”
“I’m not joking, and this isn’t a line. I’m your Mr. Right. I want you. I love you, Rachel. Marry me.”
She blinked up at him and sucked in a breath. Not a hint of a smile creased his face as he pulled off the last of her jeans and panties, then tore off his own clothing, donning a condom and crawling between her legs. He probed at her opening gently, then eased deep inside her in one long stroke that made her shudder with pleasure.
Of her own volition, her thighs parted. Her back arched. She moaned in welcome.
“Home is where the heart is, and mine is right here. Trust me. Believe me. Marry me.”
Rachel moved with him, tilting to take him deeper and melting into him when he wrapped his arms around her and snagged her gaze, seized her mouth, and captured her heart for good.
He took his time, working her body with unhurried strokes and questing fingers, caressing her all over, making her feel like the most beautiful, most beloved woman in the world.
“Why?” she whispered, her stare clinging to him.
“Because I’ve needed you my whole life. Roots and home and love. You’re all that for me and more. I know it’s fast, and you don’t know me well . . .” He paused to seat himself deeper and send her senses reeling with leisurely thrusts designed to steal her breath. “But I can make you love me if you’ll give me time. I’ll be your shelter, your protector, your . . . whatever you need.”