Chapter 2
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…
The world as Zach knew it was over. His parents were dead, killed in a snowy collision with a tractor trailer on their way to pick Ben up from a party where he’d had too much to drink.
The horror of it was too difficult to bear, the desperate need to connect with another human being too much for Zach to control.
The funeral ended just hours before. Davina was fitted beneath him on his bed, her skirt around her waist, the sweet heat of her groin through her cotton panties and the gentle touch of her fingernails across his fevered skin tempting him to steamroll over the line he’d sworn never to cross.
She was sixteen to his eighteen, a year and a half into a relationship her parents had never wanted to be—for this very reason.
And he’d tried, oh, how he’d tried to resist her, but the pain of loss was raw and demanding a desperate response, an act of love to fill him up where grief had drained him completely.
Her hand slipped beneath his shirt and skated over his lower back, then lower, cupping his ass through his dress slacks.
His hips jerked forward in response, the sensation of his eager erection against her willing body almost too much to bear, even through their clothes.
He looked into her eyes. “We have to stop.” He didn’t even have a condom.
“I love you.” It wasn’t the first time she’d said the words, but this time they meant something different. She wanted to make love with him. Or was she only saying that to offer comfort in his time of need?
I shall fear no evil. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me…
Images from the last few days assaulted him, the pain of grief threatening to drown him before he took her mouth in a desperate kiss that instantly chased the darkness away.
More than a year he’d wanted her like this, hundreds of days of careful control insisting he force his hands to his sides even as he longed to stroke her tender flesh.
She unbuttoned his dress shirt, those nails scraping his chest as she went. He wasn’t capable of stopping, hadn’t the will or the desire to push away the one person he needed now more than he’d ever needed anyone.
She moved to her own shirt, unbuttoning her blouse, exposing a plain white bra with a satin bow in the middle, her breasts burgeoning from the top of the garment as if she’d outgrown it long ago. He buried his face in her cleavage, inhaling the scent of her heated skin and all she was offering.
His hand reached up to cup her breast, and her breath caught in her throat with a tiny moan of longing.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered reverently, wrapping his arms around her to undo the clasp of her bra and exposing her completely to his hungry stare.
Her nipples were dark, the tips protruding like glorious peaks from perfectly shaped mounds, and his lips went to them of their own accord, tasting her with his tongue before sucking her fullness into the depths of his mouth.
Her back arched and her legs trembled. There was no going back.
The hardness of her nipple against the roof of his mouth felt like it was meant to be there, his tongue and jaw knowing how to caress her without ever having been told.
She writhed beneath him, her hips insistent against his as her breath came in little spurts and gasps.
Moving higher, he kissed along her neck until he was eye to eye with her. His cock was so engorged, even the friction of the change in position was threatening his control. He’d never been with a woman, having long since decided to wait for this one. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. Bracing his weight on his elbow, he reached down with his other hand and undid his belt.
She held up a hand. “Wait.” Disappointment crested over him, but he worked to keep his expression the same as she struggled to sit up and turned back to look at him. “Lie on your back,” she whispered.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
He did as she asked, aware of the hard ridge of his penis tenting his pants as her stare moved down to see it.
Then her hands were on him, carefully unzipping his fly and releasing his erection.
He thought again of his need for a condom and wondered if his brother might have one he could use.
But he was angry with Ben for the role he’d played in his parents’ death and was equally sure Ben would try to talk him out of making love to Davina.
He would pull out. His cock twitched with eager desperation, the thought of being inside her driving him insane as she lightly grazed his length before fisting her fingers around the base of his shaft and squeezing him tightly.
He cursed under his breath and she quickly let him go. She suddenly looked scared.
He touched her arm. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Is it going to hurt?”
“I don’t know.”
She nodded, reaching for his pants and pushing them down his body, then carefully removing his socks. She took off her open blouse, dropping it to the floor, then the bra that dangled from her arms before moving to the waistband of her skirt.
“I want to do it.” His voice was a growl, barely recognizable to his own ears.
He wanted to undress her, needed to be the first man to take off the garments that hid her from view.
His hands slipped beneath the fabric to cup her bare hips, taking her skirt and panties down in one movement, caressing her thighs and calves.
His face was close to her mound, and he sniffed the heavily perfumed air at the apex of her thighs, his erection bouncing with his need to have her.
Davina was perfect, every curve of her body, the satiny feel of her skin, the way she pulled him on top of her despite her obvious fear.
He needed to get lost in her, but he also needed this to be good for her, his inexperience telling him only to go as slowly as he could muster.
He kissed her lips reverently, and she opened to him, taking him in her mouth as the head of his swollen cock pressed at the entrance to her body.
She was slick, and the first inch or two slipped inside with ease, the sensation of her enveloping heat better than any he’d ever known.
But she tensed up beneath him, and he instinctively retreated, drawing his attention back to her mouth, her breasts, her waist as she once again pressed her hips against him.
Gripping the base of his cock, he guided himself back into her tight channel.
This time, she didn’t resist when he pressed farther inside.
He gasped with pleasure, desperate to thrust himself fully into her body.
He lifted his head, his stare melding with hers in complete understanding.
She wanted him no matter what that meant, be it pleasure or pain, fear or reckless abandon.
He withdrew and thrust deeper into her core, pressing against a barrier that prevented further passage.
Bracing her shoulders with his arm, he kissed her neck and whispered in her ear, “I love you.” With one hard thrust, he broke through the barrier and filled her completely, her body clenching in obvious pain. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Shhh…” he coddled.
Slowly she relaxed beneath him, though he dared not move. Her arms came around him and she held him tightly. “I love you, too.”
He lifted his head and she kissed him, her hands moving up and into his hair as her hips began to move.
The sensation was at once overwhelming, his release already on the horizon as he met her movements with his own.
She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “You feel good.”
He needed to pull out before he came inside her, but making love to this woman was more powerful than his will to stop. He needed to stay with her, to be buried as deeply in her body as he could to chase the demons away that waited to choke him the moment he stopped.
He pumped harder, faster, deeper. With one final thrust, the world exploded in a rush of sensation and color, his climax ripping a feral growl from deep in his abdomen as he emptied himself into the woman he loved.
How could he have known she would betray him less than a week later?
A flight attendant stopped beside him, snapping his attention back to the present. “Would you care for a drink, sir?”
He felt an intense craving for something alcoholic and strong. “Water.”
She smiled the bright smile of a woman more interested in getting his number than serving him a beverage, and he turned away, looking out the window.
They were nearing the airport, a cloudless sky showing they were closer to the ground than when he’d last checked, and his jaw hardened at the thought of landing in Houston.
It didn’t make any goddamn sense. If Wyatt really was his child, Davina must have known she’d been pregnant when she came to see him at basic training. Why in God’s name hadn’t she said something then, before she’d married his brother?
“Sir,” said the flight attendant, and he took the drink, thanking her. He drank it in one chug, instantly wishing he’d gone for vodka after all.
He swirled the ice in the plastic cup. Maybe Davina hadn’t known who the father was. Maybe she still didn’t know, and she was fucking with him to get him to help Ben. Her husband was being charged with murder. What wife wouldn’t go to great lengths to free the man she loved?
The thought pierced the armor that protected his heart.
He flagged down the eager flight attendant with the slightest of waves.
“Vodka, please. And make it a double.” He stared back out the window.
The plane was about to land smack dab in the middle of hell, and he might as well do it with a drink in his hand.