Page 51 of Holding His Hostage
“In the glove box of the Porsche in your driveway. As far as I know, McKenzie still thinks I’m dead. If she already had the house checked, I’ve got ten bucks she’s looking for that car—and for you.”
27
Within an hour, Sloan had Razorback, Chop, Gavin, and Asher doing guard duty outside of his house and the Porsche hidden safely in the garage. David was sure he’d mentioned Sloan to McKenzie over the years, though he wasn’t sure the other woman had remembered the story of Joanne’s first love, much less put the pieces together and figured out they were staying here.
Sloan set David up on the couch to sleep. “It’s not so bad if you put your head at the high end.”
Joanne stood at the foot of the stairs. “You can sleep with me.”
He nodded, unsure of whether she was offering him a comfortable spot to rest his head or the comfort of her body. Unable to reject either offer, he climbed the stairs behind her to his room.
David’s revelations about his marriage with Jo had given Sloan some insight into what had gone wrong between them, and he could see a reconciliation was possible. No matter their hardships, they shared three children together as well as mutual respect and love, even if it wasn’t the glossy kind of perfection people so often expected love to be.
Was that what she wanted, to be reunited with her husband? Could she see the possibility looming? More important, was he a son of a bitch for getting in the way? He frowned as she slipped off her shoes and turned down the bed, and it struck him he hadn’t been in this space with her since he was eighteen years old.
He unbuttoned his shirt, crossing to his side of the bed. In so many ways, they’d been playing house back then, pretending to be grown up when so much of who they would become was still very much in flux. But there had been a reality to it, too, a poignancy he hadn’t since reclaimed. And whether it was wrong or not, he needed to do that tonight.
He unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the floor before lifting his undershirt over his head. He hesitated. Despite what he’d told her earlier, he had not taken off his prosthesis with a woman before. It was a lie he’d told on the spur of the moment, determined to get her off the scent. But now as he stood there preparing to make love to her for the very last time, he wanted only the two of them tucked in that bed. He undid the leather strap and set the device on the floor.
She undressed facing him, first her jeans as he had done, then her sweater and bra. She sat on the edge of the bed and took off her socks before slipping between the sheets and turning toward him. He reached for her, noting the moment she realized his prosthesis was gone and bracing for her reaction.
Scooting closer to him on the bed, she kissed him tenderly on the cheek. “Thank you for everything you did today, for taking care of me and April, for welcoming David into your home.” She snuggled into his side, and he stroked her back with his short fingernails.
“You know I’d do anything for you.”
“You shouldn’t have to. You were always taking care of me, when I should have been taking care of myself.” She kissed his chest. “You made it too easy to rely on you.”
He nuzzled the top of her head, the sweet smell of shampoo lingering there. “It was my pleasure.”
“I should have waited for you. I shouldn’t have constantly looked for someone else to solve my problems.”
“You were doing the best you could. Your childhood was hard. I of all people know that.”
“Maybe we all need a little more grace, a little more forgiveness.”
He froze. He was nearly naked, holding on to her in his bed, yet he could feel her slipping away with the question he knew he had to ask. “Can you forgive him for what he did to you?”
“Yes. I think I can.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, his arm tightening around her back, holding her to him. She lifted her knee over his leg, grazing his growing erection. It was bittersweet, the last opportunity to be with the woman who had meant so much to him, who still meant so much. He turned toward her and kissed the corner of her mouth, then her bottom lip, then her top.
She kissed him back, opening her mouth to his as she fitted herself to his body. How many times had they lain in this bed, coming together with passion and desire? A desperate need that could only be satisfied by the other, a need that could never be satisfied again.
He rolled her over, bracing himself on his arm as he kissed the hollow between her collarbones and moved lower, kissing her heart. There could never be another woman like this one, never be another woman who owned him so completely. But this was the right thing to do, the preservation of a family that could nurture her kids, protect the life she and David had forged and allow it to grow.
He just had to have her this one last time.
His hand slid up her rib cage to cup her breast, massaging it with his fingers before taking the peak in his mouth and loving it with his tongue. She gasped, her hand moving to the back of his head to hold him against her as her body arched like a bow.
Moving lower, he followed an invisible line to her navel, then out to her hip, caressing the flesh of her leg as he made his way to the sensitive spot on the inside of her knee, kissing it and tickling it with his touch.
Her legs had fallen open to him, and he moved between them, lavishing the same attention on her other knee before making his way up the inside of her thigh. She smelled so good, and his groin flooded with heat as he opened her folds and settled on her most sensitive spot. He was determined to remember the taste of her, the sound of the little noises she made in the back of her throat as he licked and lavished her tender bud.
No woman could ever take the place of this one, no body in his bed could ever have the same grip on his heart that this woman had. And she didn’t even know it. He would make love to her tonight, hold her all the while she slept, then watch as she went back to the man downstairs.
It was all he could do not to scream out loud.
He climbed up her body, his cock filling her entrance with one sure thrust. His movements were harder, his determination more intense, as if by making love to her with all his might, he could brand her as his forever.
