Chapter 18
It was unnaturally dark and pouring furiously by the time Moto knocked on the door of Davina’s house, his clothing drenched from the short walk from his car to the covered porch. A gust of wind blew hard at his back, bringing more water with it.
He’d nearly let himself in, years of walking right into this building ingrained in him like the oldest habits he had. But this was Davina’s turf now, and last he saw her, she was more than a little angry with him.
He furrowed his brow, the headache that had taken root at the hospital now more severe.
He’d taken a chance and told her exactly what he wanted—to be with her again, to share her bed—and she’d shot him down as surely as a target in a carnival booth.
Now he was back, weary, exhausted, and drained, and needing even more from her than he had when last they’d fought.
Razorback’s words rang in his mind. He couldn’t control anyone but himself. He couldn’t make Davina do what he wanted, he could only ask. He couldn’t plan what would happen between them, he needed to wait and find out if she’d ever open those arms and give him a second chance.
God, how he wanted it. And not just stolen kisses once a month, after Wyatt was in bed. He wanted to be with her like he wanted to be warm, needing to draw love from her as if drawing heat from the sun.
The door opened, and he watched as her expression changed from welcoming to wary in an instant. “Can I come in?” She stepped back for him to enter. Soft music played in the background and a book sat open facedown on the coffee table. The room smelled like apple pie. He slipped off his wet shoes.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Not well.”
He sat on the couch and told her what happened at the port, the injuries his friends sustained, Ben’s apparent disappearance and his subsequent text.
“I can’t believe Ben would do anything bad.”
“Why, because he’s been such a model of law-abiding goodness? Maybe DeRegina offered him a promotion for doing such a good job helping him launder his drug money.”
She reached out, resting her hand on his forearm, and he stared at it. What would his life be like if he’d stayed with her? If he’d never left her all those years ago, never felt the shadow where she’d once stood, never tried so hard to fill it up with women who didn’t matter?
He thought of his brother, wishing against hope Ben would come out on the other side of this mess on the right side of the law, but he knew in his heart it would never happen. “I need to stop Ben.”
“Why do you have to do it? Why not just leave him be?”
“He’s already hurt people. If I don’t stop him, he will hurt more.”
“You can’t control his behavior.”
“God, if one more person tells me I can’t control something, I’m going to put my fist through a wall.”
She pulled her hand back. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Yes.” She went to the sideboard and poured two glasses of bourbon. A heavy gust of wind could be heard battering the house, the only sound outside of the quiet music playing. “Where’s Wyatt?”
“At a friend’s house for the night. He’s had an eventful few days. I figured it would do him some good to get out for a while.” She handed him a glass.
“You’re probably right.”
“Zach, I’m sorry about what I said yesterday. If you want to see Wyatt, of course you can do that. I let what you said about us get me upset. I think where Wyatt’s concerned, we have to be careful not to do that, to separate you and me from you and Wyatt.”
The bourbon was good, the spicy liquid leaving a trail of heat all the way to his stomach, and he felt the muscles in his neck and back begin to relax. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
“Thank you.”
“Not the part about sleeping together, just everything else.”
She smiled. “I didn’t think you were sorry about that part.”
Her cheeks were lightly flushed, her eyes glistening with laughter and something he hoped he wasn’t imagining.
She was a vision, more beautiful than he had ever seen her, her skin luminous and inviting his touch.
Blood rushed to his cock as warmth from the bourbon spread throughout his chest. He drained his glass.
Would she look the same as he remembered, feel the same way in his arms? Or had she been with men between then and now who’d altered the way she loved a man? The thought incensed his territorial nature, even as he knew it should not, and he longed to claim her body with his own once more.
He’d taken her innocence and gotten her pregnant the first time they’d had sex.
He longed to make love to her now, to feel what she was like as a grown woman, her body more mature and appealing than even her younger one had been.
Her breasts were fuller, her cleavage more pronounced.
The hips he’d once held on to were rounded now, welcoming and soft, and he wanted to grip them with his eager hands as he thrust himself into her body.
His gaze traveled down her curvy legs to her ankles and back up again, finding her eyes wide and locked with his at the end of his journey. Another gust of wind rattled the house, and the lights flickered precariously. “The power still go out with every passing storm?”
“Just about.” She stood and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
He stared after her, confused by her abrupt departure. “I’m not very hungry,” he called, standing to pour himself another bourbon.
“It’s better if I do it now. The stove and the microwave won’t work if we lose power.”
The idea of being alone with her in the dark while a storm raged outside did nothing for the growing problem in his pants, but first he had to get her out of the kitchen. He crossed to the doorway, finding her bent over and peering into the refrigerator. “I’m not hungry. Really.”
The lights went out, throwing the room into near darkness. Davina cursed and slammed the refrigerator.
“Do you have any candles?”
“In the junk drawer. There’s a lighter, too.” He found the right drawer but couldn’t see what he was looking for. “I can’t find them.”
“Here, let me.” She moved beside him, the scent of her filling her nostrils as she dug into the drawer.
“Davina.”
“They’re in here someplace. Just give me a second.”
He touched her shoulder, turning her around. “Davina…”
She jumped, then dug in the drawer again. “I need to find the candles.”
This time he left her alone, though her nearness had his nervous system on high alert. He could feel the heat coming off her body.
“Got it,” she said, the flame of a lighter suddenly chasing away the darkness as she lit the candle’s wick. “There.” She put the candle down on the island, staring into the flame for a long moment. Her cheeks were flushed with color. She sighed heavily. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Light a candle?”
She met his eyes. “Have sex with you.”
He turned slowly around and leaned back against the island. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not good at it.”
A sharp twinge of disappointment pierced his mind. He hadn’t realized until that moment, he’d been hoping she hadn’t slept with anyone but him, but clearly that was not the case. He chastised himself for his own double standard. “I’m sure you are.”
She turned to him. “No, I’m not. I’m clumsy and I’m awkward. I’m uncomfortable.” She took his drink off the counter and downed the rest with one gulp.
“We’ll go slow.”
“No. This is a terrible idea.” She turned and left the kitchen, leaving him no choice but to follow with the candle.
She paced along the back of the couch. “I have stretch marks. Big, nasty stretch marks.”
“From having my baby.” He put the candle down on an end table and moved to intercept her, but she shimmied out of his reach.
“I’m fat.”
“You are not fat. You’re beautiful.”
“I’m thirty pounds heavier than the last time you saw me. Don’t even pretend you didn’t notice.”
“I noticed.” He moved to the couch and lay down on his back, threading his fingers behind his head. “I was sitting right here a few minutes ago, thinking about how much I like your curvy hips.”
She stopped abruptly. “You were not.”
“And you have killer legs. You used to be a little knock-kneed, no offense, but now… wow.”
“I was not knock-kneed.”
“Gangly.”
She gasped. “I was not!”
“Just a little bit. But not anymore.”
“I hate you right now.”
He smiled. “I like you very much.”
She yelled in frustration. “I don’t want to have sex.”
“Fine. We won’t have sex.”
“Well, you gave up very easily.”
He burst out laughing and sat up, grabbed her around the waist, and hoisted her over the back of the couch, straight into his lap. He put a hand on either side of her face. “I’m not giving up at all.”