Page 17 of The Dancer and the Dark
“Is this the Sheila who came to see your performance last summer?”
“Yes.”
“I like her.” Gavin frowned. “She’s your mother’s sister?”
“Don’t act so shocked.”
“She has an excellent sense of humor. What happened to your mother?”
Chloe huffed out a laugh. “You’ve got me. Sheila studied psychiatry and Clara studied biology? I have no idea. I think my mom just takes after her father, and from what I can tell, he wasn’t the warmest person.”
Gavin tried to remember his parents, but the memories were so fuzzy as to be nearly gone. “I think I took after my mother. I remember my father criticizing me about that.”
“Why would he criticize that?”
“I don’t think it was considered very admirable for a young man to take after his mother in my community. I left home quite early. Probably because of that.”
“You don’t remember?”
He leaned over and nibbled behind her ear. “I am a very old man, dove.” His hand slid around her waist and pulled her back against the length of his body so her beautifully round ass was nestled right where he liked it.
“You don’t seem that old to me.” She wiggled her bottom into him, and Gavin let out a groan.
He growled. “You know what I’ve been missing, don’t you?”
“It’s been a week and a half since I’ve seen you,” Chloe said. “Which seems like forever right now.” She reached around and grabbed his wrist, placing his hand directly on her left breast. “And I’m fine, so—”
“No.” He scooted down and began to pepper kisses along her neck. “I know you’re not fine, so I want you to stop saying it.”
She turned and captured his mouth with her lips. “I’ll be more fine if you make love to me.” She shifted in bed, turning to face him, and stretched one leg over his. “And please do not hold back because you think I’m fragile.”
Gavin looked in her eyes and knew she was hurting, but he also knew he could make her feel better even if it was just for a few moments.
He brushed back a curl that had escaped from her high ponytail. “I’d take this sadness from you if I could.”
She blinked. “Would amnis take it away?”
“It could make you forget for a while,” he said quietly. “But then someone would tell you and it would hurt all over again. There is no antidote for grief but living or dying, and you’re not allowed to do the latter.” He took her mouth in a long kiss.
No dying. Not ever. Stay with me, Chloe.
Gavin slipped his hand under her shirt and slowly drew it up and over her body. It was spring in Southern California, and the days were warmer than New York. The light cotton T-shirt fell to the ground, followed by Chloe’s joggers and the delicate lace panties he’d bought her for Christmas.
Most of her lingerie was his own purchases now. He delighted in covering her delicious curves in bright colors, lace, and silk. He ran his fingertips over the rise of her bottom and felt the shiver travel up her spine. Her nipples perked against his chest.
“You still have a suit on,” she said against his lips. “Not fair.”
“What do you mean?” He sat up against her headboard, lifting her onto his lap. “I took my jacket off.”
She smiled and spread her hands across his chest, teasing the buttons that tracked down his chest. “How proper of you, Mr. Wallace.”
“Och, nae me, lass. Nowt but a simple barman here.”
Chloe’s face lit up when she laughed, and Gavin knew he’d do anything, spare nothing, and break every rule to keep her with him for eternity.
He trailed a single finger from her lips, down her neck, between her breasts, and over her belly. “Unbutton my pants for me, will you, dove?”
“Yes.” Deft fingers loosened his pants, spread them, and withdrew his hardened cock, which was begging for attention. She gripped his erection in one small hand.
