“Nothing.”
Was she remembering, too? Did she want him to come over there, comfort her? Did she wish he’d go down on his knees and lick her pussy the way he had that night so long ago? Not likely. “Want me to come sit with you, scare the boogie man away?”
“Not if you’re going to tease me for being a big baby. I can’t help being scared of storms.” She gestured toward windows cloaked in pale, sheer curtains, but he had the feeling her misgivings were rooted in something much deeper than crackling lightning and raindrops pelting the windowpane.
Her T-shirt thing came almost to her ankles. It wasn’t sexy in the least, or at least he hadn’t thought so until she’d given him a glimpse of what lay beneath it. So why did his palms feel damp against the rims of his wheels when he rolled himself over by the sectional? Why did the baggy sweat pants he’d put on after his shower suddenly feel constricting when he transferred himself onto the couch?
He knew damn well why. He hadn’t had sex for eight years. And the woman sitting on his couch was the same one who’d starred in all his erotic dreams for eight long years of lonely, solitary nights. There was no way around it. Andi had been the last woman to share his bed and he wasn’t likely to forget it.
When thunder crashed again, she trembled. Blood rushed to his groin.
He was losing his freaking mind.
Andi might have saved her pride by telling Brett he’d been conceived in love. She might even cherish memories of the mind-blowing sex that had resulted in their son’s conception. No way, though, could he imagine her wanting to take up with him where they’d left off. Not now. Not as wild as she liked her sex partners and as unable as he was to meet her sexual challenges.
That knowledge didn’t keep him from sliding closer, draping an arm over her shoulders, and stroking the satiny skin beneath his fingers. It didn’t stop him from inhaling her powdery floral scent that he’d never managed to forget. And it did absolutely nothing toward making his erection subside.
Bolts of red-gold electricity lit the sky.
Andi shuddered, burrowed her head against his chest. “Gray?”
Her warm breath tickled the skin around his nipple, made him fantasize about tangled sheets and heated bodies. Of long-ago pleasures and futile dreams. “I’m here, Andi.”
“You’re not afraid, are you?”
“Of the lightning? No.” The storm outside didn’t bother him. It would play itself out and blow across the
Waters that could suck him under in a whirling vortex, finish off the destruction his captors had left undone. He told himself to move away, put some distance between himself and this impossible temptation, but his body paid him no mind. It craved what he knew rationally couldn’t be.
But when Andi lifted her head and looked at him, there was no way in hell he could resist her silent lure.
Chapter Four
Lightning lit the sky. Thunder boomed louder with every successive lightning bolt. Fierce winds roared. Raindrops pelted the wide expanse of glass that provided a view of white-capped waves breaking along the shore.
Andi was terrified. Not as much of the storm outside as of the one brewing inside her.
When she met Gray’s gaze she saw raw desire. Or was his expression only mirroring the emotions that were churning inside her?
She didn’t know.
But she remembered his lips on hers, soft and warm, the pressure of them increasing as he’d taken all she offered and more. His callused hands that had known where and how to touch to lead them both to ecstasy. His big, hard body that had brought her so much pleasure. The taste of him, tangy aftershave tinged with the salt air from the Gulf and his own unique masculine scent. She noticed he used a different aftershave now. Light with a hint of citrus, it was no less enticing than the musky fragrance that still haunted her dreams.
This was Brett’s father. The lover who’d ruined her for other men. Still, he was a stranger. A stranger she’d never been able to banish from her dreams. Hadn’t wanted to banish. Didn’t want to banish now.
Andi wet her lips. Smiled. Gave Gray a silent invitation she didn’t dare make out loud.
Gray lowered his head. Outside the thunder rolled. Instinctively she clasped his shoulders, seeking safe harbor from the storm. When he brushed his lips across her cheek she closed her eyes and savored the way his warm breath bathed her skin.
She wanted more. A turn of her head brought their lips together. No pressure. Only his mouth lightly on hers, his lips warm velvet she longed to taste. She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, seeking entry.
A moan escaped him, and a fierce shudder passed through his broad shoulders into her fingertips. His tongue met hers, and surprisingly hard, muscular arms surrounded her, dragging her to him until they were breast to chest. Close. So close she felt his heart beating, its tempo strong and fast. Familiar yet exciting. Alive.
Her nipples tightened at the contact with his hard, unyielding chest. Her tongue tingled as it met his, hungry for what she’d never found again since the morning when he popped those handcuffs off her wrists, stroked her pussy one last time, and strode out her door to catch a plane to hell.
He broke the kiss, burrowing his head between her breasts. Another rumbling groan that came from deep in his chest hinted that he, too, remembered…wanted to renew those memories. As much as she did. His dark-blond hair felt as silky as Brett’s when she tunneled into it with eager fingers.
And nudged the string that held his eye patch in place. Andi stilled her fingers, cradled his head in both hands, listened to his ragged breathing against her heart. Could he still make love?
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except this unexpected, incredible reunion. Making up now for eight years of regret, wanting, seeking but never finding the satisfaction she’d discovered with him that one weekend. Even if he couldn’t… He had a mouth. Hands as arousing as they’d ever been. She’d give him affection if he couldn’t accept her passion.
In slow motion, he let go his hold on her, leaving her feeling cold, empty. A great sob erupted from somewhere deep inside his chest, the sound seemingly coming straight from his soul as he wrenched his head from her hands and turned away.
“Gray, it doesn’t matter if you can’t—”
He laughed. The sound held no mirth, though. It left Andi as cold she’d been the day she’d heard he was dead. And it made her mad. Real mad. “Make me come, damn it. Make me come like no man’s done since you spoiled me for everybody else. Goddamnit, it’s you who’s making me burn. Not your cock. Not any hard cock that’s handy.”
Grabbing her hand, he slammed it against his crotch. “It’s not that I can’t get it up. As you can tell, I manage that just fine. But baby, I remember too. I remember how much you liked giving over control. How you got turned on six ways from Sunday, playing erotic games that required me doing a lot more than getting a hard-on. Things I damn well can’t do anymore. Not that you’d want me to, anyhow, once you got a good look.” He gestured toward the eye patch and the scar that ran along his cheek. “Think this looks bad? You should see what I keep covered up.”
“Show me.” She held his gaze as she rubbed her palm suggestively up and down his rock-hard cock. “Show me this.”
Damn it, Gray should have known Andi wouldn’t back down from a challenge. Particularly a sexual one. But Christ, he didn’t want to ruin the memories that had helped keep him going for years in that hellhole of a prison. “Leave it alone, baby. Let’s don’t spoil it.”
“Okay, don’t show me. Just take me to your bedroom and fuck away the years of loneliness. I’ll close my eyes. Turn off the lights. For all I care the room can be pitch-black. It won’t be any darker than where I’ve been for eight long years, dreaming about a guy who died. Comparing him with other lovers and having them all come up short, so much so that after a while I just gave up and quit trying to find Mr. Right.
“Now I just want to come. I want you to come.” She groaned, as though the wanting literally hurt her as she loosened the drawstring on his sweats and slipped her hand inside.
Shit, if he fucked her now he damn sure would come up short, as she put it. But if he didn’t, his balls would certainly explode. They tightened painfully when she used one slender finger to spread the lubricating fluid that was already oozing out of his eager cock. “Stop, you’re killing me. For God’s sake, Andi. At least let me hold on to the memories.”
“Keep them. I’m going to keep mine, too. Just make a few new memories with me now.” Leaning over, she found his lips, took them, darted her tongue inside his mouth, effectively preventing rebuttal. When her fingers curled around his naked shaft, he quit trying to resist.
Finally she broke the kiss and looked at him, her expressive eyes glazed with passion and unmistakable insistence. Gray caught her hands and brought them to his lips. “Think about this, Andi. Think about what you’re asking for. And give me at least fifteen minutes to do what I have to do. If you’re sure, you know where my bedroom is. I’ll be there.”
With that he hauled himself into his chair and left her staring after him as he made his way down the hall, past the room where their son slept.
* * * * *
After he swung himself out of the chair and into bed a few minutes later, Gray stared up at the shiny chrome device that reflected eerie orange and green light from the lightning that still crackled outside his bedroom window.
At one time seeing a trapeze swinging over a bed would have had him conjuring up all sorts of arousing scenarios. Now he viewed it as just another testimonial to his disabilities, like the braces and the wheelchair and his scars. He hated them all.
Hated the naked fear. Fear that had him lying here ten times more paralyzed than his injuries could account for. Fuck, he hated the thought of Andi taking one look at his damaged body and screaming with horror.
What the hell had he been thinking, inviting her…?
Then she was there beside the bed, backlit by lightning, bending to grasp the hem of her T-shirt. Smiling down at him as she lifted it slowly up her body, revealing firm calves…fit, slender thighs. His cock rose to attention at the sight of her pussy with its neatly trimmed red-gold bush. The pussy that had filled his dreams.
The wet pussy. Jesus, he smelled her womanly musk from here. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting her again, and his balls drew up against the base of his cock.
When she lifted the T-shirt past small, firm breasts with puckered brownish nipples more prominent now than in his memories, he closed his eyes. In a second or two she’d be looking down at him…seeing not the man he used to be but the one he was now. The man he could barely stand looking at in his bathroom mirrors.
Gray suppressed the moan that threatened to erupt from deep in his chest. Held out his arms, fully expecting she’d take a good look at him and run away screaming. But she didn’t.
Her sharp intake of breath made his gut clench, but then the bed covers shifted. The mattress dipped with her slight weight when she stretched out beside him, and he felt her soft, almost hesitant touch on his chest…his belly. Her breath, sweet-smelling and moist, followed a path along the jagged scar that ran from just below his chin to a spot about an inch above his right nipple.
His fingers itched to tangle in her hair, skim along her satiny skin. He wanted to drag her to him and taste her as she was tasting him. But he still was having trouble processing the fact that she was here, in his bed. Naked. Apparently wanting him damn near as much as he wanted her.
“Gray?” His name, spoken softly, huskily, reverberated against his nipple and bathed it with warm sensation.
“Yes?”
“Do these still hurt?” With one finger, she traced along the network of scar tissue. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He covered her hand with his own. “You won’t.” Unless she suddenly decided she’d only thought she wanted sex with a cripple.
“Good.” She ringed his nipple with her tongue, sending feelings of urgency he remembered all too well coursing through him, increasing his arousal. “Wanna play?”
“God yes.” She’d asked that before, that Friday night so long ago, before unzipping his pants and giving him the best blow job of his life. His cock twitched, as if it remembered, too. Now she hesitated, as though waiting for him to take control.
Surrender. She’d reveled in his mastery, wanted the discipline she’d encouraged him to grab and hold over her that long, mind-boggling weekend. Apparently she wanted that now.
He lifted her over him, locked his lips with hers, fucked her mouth with his tongue as he skimmed his hands over her ass, her narrow waist, the outer curves of her small, firm breasts. Her fragrant juices bathed his hungry cock as she straddled him.
“Yesss, Gray,” she murmured against his lips when they had to come up for air. “Fuck me.”
“Put my cock in your cunt, honey. Do it now.”
When she lifted up her hips and took him in her hand, he grabbed her ass cheeks, began to lower her onto his throbbing cockhead. Some things hadn’t changed. Her honey wet his belly, reminded him she still got off on being told what to do.
Then she stopped in midair. “Where’s a condom?”
“Don’t need one.” He pressed down on her ass, found the resistance he’d expected when this first started. Forcing himself to admit another less visible disability made him wince, but it couldn’t be helped. “I don’t have anything catching. And I can’t make you pregnant now,” he ground out, too desperate to be enveloped in her moist heat to care that he’d revealed what he’d never told to another living soul.
“Okay.”
Her cunt was tight and warm and welcoming. The contractions of her inner muscles against his cock made him clench his teeth to make this last. A sudden cramp in his right thigh when he instinctively began to move beneath her made him wince, slowed but didn’t eliminate his urgency to come.