Chapter Twenty-Three
Gabi
Walker’s chest was heaving as he collapsed beside her.
His eyes were the darkest she’d ever seen.
They searched hers, dazed as his hair flopped across his forehead.
He kissed her, hard and long. She could feel his heart banging through his ribs.
Hear his breath as it slowed. He groaned aloud and slumped further into the mattress. She needed a moment to gather herself.
‘Bathroom . . .’ she murmured and he loosened his hold on her. Gabi grabbed one crutch as an aid and hobbled out, wishing she could dash out sexily, flashing a glimpse of butt as she went.
She blinked, shell-shocked, at herself in the mirror, taking a moment to calm down.
The way Walker had groaned her name as he came was a total turn-on.
His hands on her head, so strong, but so gentle at the same time as she blew him.
That eye contact as they fucked. The thing that was between them – this intensity, this energy – she’d never experienced it before.
She licked a finger and ran it under her eyelashes, catching the mascara where it had run. She tousled her hair and ran some toothpaste around her mouth, still aware of the rush of her blood, the ache between her legs.
The man had a body to die for. Or kill for. Or both. She gave herself a onceover, top to bottom. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile as she turned off the light. She was ready for more fun.
He was on his side, facing towards her, when she made it back to the bedroom, although she couldn’t make out his face in the semi-darkness of the room. She edged onto the bed and moved towards him.
‘I’m back,’ she whispered.
He made a noise of acknowledgement, a grunt of appreciation maybe?
She inched closer. He threw a heavy arm over her and pulled her in, turning her back towards him.
Her stomach dropped away in anticipation.
Walker muttered something unintelligible at the back of her neck and then tucked her into his chest, fitting her butt to his groin, his thighs to the back of her legs.
The perfect spoon. Wait? What? She listened to his breathing, slow and steady.
The gentle hum of a snore on every exhale.
There was no denying it. The man was asleep.
Gabi lay in disbelief for a full minute and then swallowed a bubble of laughter.
She cleared her throat, thinking that might do the trick.
But he only pulled her closer and sighed into her hair.
He was dead to the world. There was nothing for it.
Looked like she was having a sleepover until he woke up and wanted round two.
It took a few minutes to relax. Gabi didn’t do sleepovers. She calmed her breathing, as much as she could with a six-foot-two sex god wrapped around her, and tried to think wholesome thoughts.
Walker nestled further into her hair with his nose and made a sound of contentment. Gabi gave in, allowing her limbs to get heavy, to sink against him and into the pillow. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d slept with someone in a bed.
She remembered the sleepovers with Isabella as a girl, when they’d share a bed and talk all night about dreams and dramas. That feeling of closeness when the lights were out. The sense that you could be honest and brave, be the real you in the dark. She’d loved that.
She turned to lean over Walker then, just enough to reach the lamp and switch it off. She snuggled back against him and wrapped her arms over his, holding him in place. She closed her eyes. She could wait.
A sudden shout ripped through the room as Gabi woke with a start.
Something was on her, dragging her down the bed.
She struggled to move, terrified. She thrashed, as much as she could with her leg heavy and immobile.
She twisted to escape, but hands held her by the waist and tugged.
The shout came again, and her brain recognised him.
Walker. He cried out and it sounded like it came from the depths of his soul.
His hands grasped at her, and Gabi didn’t know whether to hold on to them or push them away. Was he trying to hurt her or help her? She didn’t know and she wasn’t sure he did either.
‘Walker!’ she yelled but he didn’t stop.
He was frantic now, scratching at the bed as though trying to get through the sheets themselves, looking for something, searching. He muttered under his breath, but she couldn’t catch the words.
‘Walker, what are you doing?’ No response.
Gabi threw herself towards the light switch and brightness flooded the room.
She dragged herself to sitting and reached her hands out to him.
Walker’s eyes were open but unseeing. His mouth moved constantly, a conversation with someone she couldn’t see.
He was dreaming. But by the look of fear on his face, it was a nightmare. Gabi held his shoulders in her hands.
‘Walker, it’s me.’ Her voice was firmer this time.
She shook him, gently at first, and then with force.
His head snapped up; his eyes took focus.
He sat bolt upright. First, he saw her, really recognised her, then his gaze danced around the room, into the shadows of the corners, out towards the door, before finding her face again.
‘You were having a nightmare,’ Gabi said, keeping her voice soft, soothing. She’d heard you shouldn’t wake people if they were sleepwalking. Was it the same with people having nightmares?
Walker dropped his face into his hands. Gabi rubbed his arms, suddenly realising how cold he looked in the spring night. She moved to pull a blanket around his stiff, tense shoulders.
‘It’s okay now,’ she murmured, leaning her forehead on his. ‘It’s okay,’ she repeated. He rested there for a second, then stood abruptly, making the bed rock.
‘It’s not okay, though.’ Walker’s voice was broken, flat. He ran his hand through his hair. ‘It never will be.’
Before she could answer or even think of what to say, he pulled his jeans on and slipped his T-shirt over his head.
Gabi pulled the covers up to her front, unsure as to what was happening, suddenly feeling naked and exposed.
The light no longer felt like a warm glow, more like the aftermath of a bonfire when it’s nothing but ash and ember.
It threw dark shadows beneath Walker’s eyes.
‘Walker,’ she said again, to avert whatever was about to happen. ‘Don’t go.’
Their gaze met and held. His eyes flashed with some pain she didn’t understand, and his jaw was set hard.
She reached her hand out to him in an effort to make some kind of connection, to bring him back from wherever he’d gone.
But he shook his head, picked his boots up from the floor and turned away.