Stitches out and foot feeling good.
Tess walked out of the doctor’s office, sans crutches and Band-Aid free. The doctor, who, even after Tess had assured him that it had been no trouble getting there, had insisted that he could’ve come to Damien’s house for the final checkup.
But Tess wasn’t an invalid anymore and she didn’t want to act like one. She could walk and work and drive again. And Damien, thank goodness, hadn’t given her any trouble, even when she’d told him that she was going to take a cab to the doctor’s office and not his town car.
In fact, Tess mused as she walked out of the building and down the sidewalk toward the waiting cab, Damien hadn’t made any trouble or made any passes at her in the past few days.
After coming home from painting the red house, he’d basically checked in on her, then disappeared. Could the reason stem from all those things she’d told him about Henry and her marriage?
As she sat in the back of the taxi, she wondered if Damien had given up on her, didn’t want to deal with her baggage and had his sights set on someone else. The thought of him even looking at another woman made her lungs feel as though they were having the air squeezed out of them.
When her cab pulled into the driveway of the little red house, the first thing Tess saw was Damien, looking very sexy under the December sun. He had shoveled the snow off of a large patch of grass and had put down a tarp. On top of the tarp were the kitchen cabinets. Damien had work clothes on, and he didn’t look up when she got out of the car.
Not until she was practically upon him.
“Hey,” she called as she walked toward him.
He glanced up, over his shoulder. “Hey, there.” Even with the slight warmth of the sun, the cold, clear morning had brought color to his cheeks, and his blue eyes glittered like sapphires.
“What are you doing?” she asked him.
“Sanding the cabinets.”
“They look good.”
“They’re a work in progress.”
“Well, I just came from the doctor and he said I’m good to go.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“That means you don’t have to do this anymore. Go home, get back to your regular life, and I’ll take over here.”
He paused, thought about this, then said, “I don’t think so.”
“Excuse me?”
He stood, looked down at her with a resolute expression. “I’ve decided that we’re going to finish this house together.”
Her heart started to pump faster. “You have?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Could be fun.”
“Yeah, but doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”
He cocked his head. “What purpose is that?”
“Making me suffer, making me work my backside off as punishment for my sins.”
A wicked smile tugged at his lips. “I think your backside is pretty perfect the way it is.”
Heat swirled in her belly and her legs felt shaky and weak. She tried not to smile too broadly.
“The truth is,” he began evenly. “I need to get back to California sooner than I expected.”
“Oh.” She tried to mask the disappointment she felt, but she wasn’t sure if she’d pulled it off.
“I need everything done by Wednesday.”
Her jaw dropped. “That’s two days away.”
“That’s right.”
He seemed so blasé about the whole thing, but Tess just wasn’t up for pretending she was, too. “I’d better get on the phone and see if we can have the countertops and furniture delivered ASAP.”
As she walked toward the house, Damien called after her. “Throw money at the problem. That always works for me.”
Tess didn’t get it. Who was this guy? This chameleon? Warm and vulnerable one moment, then cold and demanding the next.
She went inside and took out her cell phone, dialed the number for Hubbard’s Tile and Stone. As she spoke with the manager about changing their delivery date, she tried not to think about how in just two days Damien would be out of her life for good.
It had been a long, dusty day, but much had been accomplished. The cabinets were sanded, stained and affixed to the newly painted kitchen walls. The bathroom was completely done, the bedroom, too. The only things that needed to be done were the countertops, moldings, outlet covers, a few fixtures and the furniture. Tess had already brought back the three pieces she’d bought from Mr. Opp, and the other two delivery companies had jumped at the extra cash, and were going to be at the red house tomorrow before noon.
Tess stood in the living room and sighed. She hadn’t expected to fall in love with the house all over again. It had always been cute, but now it was modern and charming. It was how she would redo her home if she had the funds. It was perfect, and no doubt some perfect little family would stumble upon it and make it theirs.
Just moments ago Damien had gone out for pizza, and Tess decided to get cleaned up and get off her feet at the same time. She headed into the bathroom. The soapstone spa tub she’d picked out looked inviting. Would it be so wrong if she tried it out?
She sat on the edge of the tub and turned the knobs. Water gushed from the tap. Hot, steamy water. Just the sight of it made her muscles relax.
Ten minutes later, she was up to her neck in bubbles, daydreaming about a man with dark hair and blue eyes, who was hovering over her, ready to explore every inch of her body. Just as she was about to let him, there was a knock on the bathroom door.
“Tess?”
Damien’s booming voice brought her instantly back to reality and she sat up, sloshing water over the sides of the tub. “Yes. What?”
“You okay in there?”
“Yeah. Of course. Just cleaning up.”
“In the new bathtub?” She heard the amusement in his voice.
“I had to make sure it was…”
“Seaworthy?” he supplied.
“Comfortable.”
“I have the pizza, and I got those garlic knots you like.”
She smiled at the thoughtfulness of his gesture. She called out, “You can go ahead and eat if you want.”
“No, I’ll wait. Take your time.”
Yeah, as if she could just lie back and relax with him out there waiting for her. Not possible.
“I’m done,” she called, standing and stepping out of the water. But in her rush, she knocked the bar of soap she’d just used off the holder and onto the floor. It made a loud thud of a sound. She called out a rather terse, “Dammit,” as she leaned over to retrieve it.
She knew her mistake the minute she stood up again.
She heard his footsteps, then the door opened before she could even grab a towel. Her heart slammed against her ribs and a silent scream escaped her throat as she realized that he was going to see—her leg. The scar on her leg.
No, no. She couldn’t let him.
But it was too late. He was coming through the door. “What was that? Are you okay?”
“Damien get out!” she shouted, full on panic in her tone. “Out. Please.”
But like anyone with a disaster in their sites, Damien couldn’t look away. “Tess?”
She felt weightless, out of her body.
He cocked his head to one side and his eyes narrowed, he stared at her inner thigh, at the massive burn scar that had eaten up her smooth, beautiful skin five years ago. “What the hell happened to you?”
Misery gripped her and she shook her head. “Please go.”
His gaze found hers. “Was that an accident?”
“No. Now please go.”
“Someone did this to you? He looked horrified. “Who—” He took a few steps closer. “Holy sh—”
“Damien, please don’t.” She grabbed the towel off the hook and wrapped it around herself.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, going to her, pulling her into his arms. “Oh, my God, why didn’t you come to me?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
“You could have.”
Her towel slipped, and she tried to retrieve it, but Damien stopped her.
Her eyes implored him. “I need it.”
“Screw the towel.” He looked into her eyes, his own so stormy, so intense and she saw the man, the boy from long ago. And he was thoroughly pissed off. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Too late.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, kissed her hair, her neck, her mouth. Against her lips, he uttered miserably, “You should’ve come to me.”
Wearing nothing, the air hitting her scar, she felt so vulnerable. “And what would you have done, Damien? Tell me I deserved it?”
He tipped her face so she could see him, see the passion in his eyes. “Never, do you hear me? Never.” Before she could respond, he slipped an arm under her legs and lifted her up, then he headed out of the bathroom.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere where I can kiss you properly,” he said, leaving the bathroom.
“You were kissing me.”
He paused at the bedroom door, his gaze moving over her mouth. “I need you on your back for this kind of kissing.”
Excitement warred with the panic in her belly. She’d dreamed about him touching her, kissing her, spreading her legs apart and using his tongue to drive her mad. But in every fantasy, her leg was unblemished, smooth and perfect.
She didn’t want him to see her, touch that part of her….
He placed her on the bed and bent his head, applying soft, teasing kisses over her toes, then little nibbles at her ankles. Up he went, suckling her calves and the soft spot over her knee. Tess wanted to enjoy it, but she couldn’t allow herself to let go. He was so close to seeing it, feeling—So close to her scar.
“No, Damien, please.” She put her hand over the rough skin on her inner thigh.
“Sweetheart, let me touch you, please.” His warm hand moved up her leg, gently forcing her hand off her scar.
Tess could barely breathe. “I’m not…can’t…it’s ugly…”
“No, sweetheart. You’re beautiful.”
And then he was there, applying soft kisses to the rough, sensitive surface of her scar, and Tess loved it and hated it at the same time. While her mind roared with thoughts and fears from her past, Damien kept talking to her, whispering sweet, erotic words as he soothed her with his hands.
So many nights she had dreamed of this, wondered if she’d ever feel sexual, if she’d feel desired by a man. On a hungry groan, Damien moved upward to the wet curls between her legs. She could feel his breath on her, and she released a tense, excited sigh.
“My Tess,” he uttered as he reached beneath her and cupped her buttocks, squeezed the round flesh until she lifted her hips. Then he lowered his head.
Tess stared at him, at his head between her legs, electric heat flickering inside of her at the erotic sight.
And then he touched her with his tongue, soft, slow circles over the hard bud that she’d thought for so long was dead.
“Damien, please…” She didn’t know what she was asking for.
But Damien responded to the ache of desperation in her voice by nuzzling her, lapping at the tender bud with his deliciously rough tongue, suckling it deep until she wriggled beneath him, called his name again.
Tess pumped her hips, feeling as though she could cry, it felt so good. She wanted the incredible heat and pressure to last forever.
As she fisted the white comforter, pointed her toes and mewled like animal in pain, Damien’s mouth teased and twisted. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead as his hands gripped her buttocks. No matter how desperately she wanted to, Tess couldn’t hold on to the sweet feeling for much longer.
It had been so long, and the pressure was building and had to be released. And then she called out, thrust her hands in his hair and spread her legs as wide as she could.
Damien gave a guttural sound of approval, then sank his tongue deeply inside her. Blinding heat surged through her as she shook with climax. Her body was out of control and on fire and she pressed against his mouth, taking his tongue into her body, then out again. Over and over until the pressure eased, then subsided.
When it did, Damien sat up. His gaze was thunderstorm dark, and he looked ready to pounce. Quick as a jungle cat, he pulled off his clothes, grabbed a condom from his pocket then sheathed himself.
Unable to breathe, to think clearly, Tess watched every move he made, watched his hand glide over his thick, hard erection, watched the muscles in his chest and abdomen tighten when he did.
The muscles between her legs quivered with anticipation. She remembered how well their bodies fit together, and the wait was torture. She’d waited too long. They both had. She wanted him on top of her, his shaft inside of her.
When Damien was poised above her, the long, hard length of him bobbing sensually against her belly, she licked her lips. She had been starved for so long.
Not anymore.
Her legs were weak and shaky, but her body craved more and she opened for him, no longer self-conscious about her scar. The slick evidence of her need dripped from the center of her onto the bed sheets, and as Damien watched, his eyes glittering with need, he reached out and touched her, played with the damp curls above until he found the wet folds beneath. Tess’s breath caught in her throat as his fingertip circled the entrance to her body with slow, torturous strokes.
Panting and dizzy, Tess let her head fall to one side as she pressed herself into his hand. “Damien, please. I want you.”
Damien was over her in seconds, the hard tip of his erection poised at the entrance to her body. And then he entered her, slowly, one delicious inch at a time, stretching her, giving her body what it craved, what it remembered.
When he was all the way inside of her, he hovered there, his gaze locked to hers. “Hey.”
Her arms went around him and she smiled. “Hey.”
As she stared up into his eyes, their breath mingling, their bodies joined, she knew she had fallen in love with him. Or was it back in love with him?
Maybe she had never stopped.
The heat inside of her continued to build, demanding that she take it and release it. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he starting moving, slowly pumping inside of her until she caught his rhythm, the perfect rhythm. Her hands drifted down his back and over his buttocks. She loved the way his muscles flexed as he thrust deeper and deeper inside of her.
Damien bent his head and kissed her, nuzzled at the entrance to her mouth until she opened for him. His tongue lapped at hers, mimicking the movement of their bodies.
Tess was growing restless again as the building pressure of orgasm was upon her. Heat and pleasure swirled through her, and when Damien slipped his hand between them and spread her wide, pressed himself against her and rode her hard, she felt her mind slipping away and the slow, booming fire of climax returning, taking over every muscle, every limb, every inch of her hot skin.
Damien must have felt it, too, because his thrusts turned from tame to wild, his forehead glistened with sweat and he reached underneath her buttocks and lifted her higher.
His erection slammed against the sweet spot inside of her, the core of nerves that had only ever been turned on by this man.
“Oh, yes, Damien,” she called, thrusting her hips upward in a wild, jerky motion as he thrust into her. Her skin was slick, hot and she ached for release. Damien gave it to her with one hard thrust against that soft, aching spot deep within her and she cried out, gripping his back, thrusting her hips.
Damien shuddered, his body racked with the spasms of climax. Saying her name over and over, he lifted up and plunged back down, burying himself as deep as he could go. Then his body gave one last tremor and he collapsed on top of her.
Tess held him close, breathing heavily, her eyes closed tightly as she felt small aftershocks of her release play through her. Feeling so close to Damien, Tess stroked his back and buttocks, even lifted her hips to feel him deep inside of her again as their bodies cooled.
After a few minutes Damien tried to roll to one side, but she held him there.
“I’m going to smother you,” he said softly, gently.
She shook her head and held tight. “No, I love it.”
This man’s weight on her was pure heaven and she just wanted to feel him for as long as she could have him. But after a few minutes his prediction was correct and her chest started to grow weary from the pressure.
She let him roll to his back, and smiled when he took her with him. He held her possessively, curled her against him, and as they started to breath normally again, he played with her long red hair, his fingers dancing in her curls.
“Damien?”
“Hmm?”
“There’s something I have to say.”
He paused, then said softly, “Okay.”
She closed her eyes, snuggled deep into his arm. “Back then, six years ago, when we were together, I had so much passion for you, so much love. I thought that such a deep love, such an intense attraction couldn’t last. Honestly, I thought a real, committed relationship, the kind that went on for fifty years, had to be something tamer and more sensible.”
“Oh, Tess. That’s silly.”
“I know. I was an idiot.”
“You were young.”
“Yes, I was a young idiot.”
He chuckled softly. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Sure it does.”
“No, sweetheart. All that matters is what you believe now.”
She’d never felt so safe, so happy. She knew the feeling was probably a temporary one, but she didn’t care. She was going to enjoy it for as long as possible.
She ran a hand over his chest, played in the sprinkling of damp hair. “I believe that love is the most important gift. I believe in second chances and that being afraid of your feelings can only lead you down the path of unhappiness and regret. And I’m done with regret.”
Damien pulled her even closer and kissed her hair.
Tess nuzzled his chest. “You know, I was leaving him when he got in the accident. It was the day after he gave me the scar. He was following me. He swore he’d always follow me. That’s when he got into the car accident.”
“Oh, Tess.” Damien kissed her hair softly. “Don’t think about it. It’s done.”
She rose up on her elbow and looked at him, deep into the dark-blue fire of his eyes. “What about us, Damien? Are we done?”
Damien’s eyes turned hungry and his jaw clenched, but before he could say anything, Tess put her fingers over his mouth, his full sexy mouth, which just minutes ago had made her body ache with pleasure. “Don’t answer that. Not tonight, not now.”
On a growl he pulled her to him and kissed her hungrily.
“Stay here with me,” she whispered against his mouth. “Don’t go back to the house tonight.”
He nipped at her bottom lip, uttered hoarsely, “I’m not going anywhere.”
She smiled, then dropped her head back down and snuggled into the crook of his arm. “We’ll work together, be together…for now.”
He held her tightly and she closed her eyes, let her heart relax and her heartbeat slow, until finally she gave in to sleep.
It was close to dawn when Tess climbed on top of Damien and eased herself down on his thick, hard, shaft. Outside the bedroom window, snow fell to the ground, blanketing the earth, the glistening white color illuminating the walls of the room and the naked skin of the two people making love in it.
His back to the warm sheets, Damien stared up at her. His body rigid with need, he watched her eyes dance with hunger, her breasts rise and fall and her hips sway back and forth. He had been here a hundred times in his mind, had planned this moment, but nothing could compare with the reality.
She brought her legs forward, bracketing his shoulders, and settled her hands back on his thighs, giving Damien perfect access to her swollen cleft. As he watched her move his erection in and out of her body, the perfect connection that he would die before breaking, he placed his thumbs on either side of her wet folds. Gently, he opened her and began to circle the tender bud.
Tess sucked air between her teeth and dropped her head back, moaning with pleasure. The light played off her skin, turned her hard nipples into a ghostly pink and the scar on her thigh to a blatant reminder of a horrible past she wanted so desperately to leave behind and never revisit.
And he was planning on hurting her again….
He was a monster.
Her thrusts quickened and Damien’s mind turned off. She was close, so close, and as he flicked the sensitive, white-hot bud back and forth, over and over, she let go, arched her back and called out.
The sound and the heat were too much for Damien. As she pumped and moaned, her muscles fisting around his erection, he finally allowed himself to go, fly, follow her over the edge into the sweet ecstasy of climax.