Chapter Thirteen
When they reached Meg’s house, Luke peeled off, heading for his Bellevue apartment for some badly needed downtime. He’d be back in the morning for the trip to the Mayfair Bowling Alley, where there was a good chance Vinnie Santini would show up to gamble.
Dirk’s hand fisted. He was more than ready for the meet. In the meantime, as tired as he was, he wouldn’t have much trouble falling asleep.
Parking the Viper in Meg’s garage, he guided her into the house, watched as she kicked off her high heels, then pulled the clips out of her long, red hair and shook it free. With a tired sigh, she wearily lifted the fine strands up off her shoulders, then let them fall back again. She was exhausted, he knew. She hadn’t slept at all since her little boy had been abducted.
Dirk felt a pang in his chest. He’d been proud of her tonight, proud of how strong she’d been. She wanted her baby returned and she was doing everything in her power to make that happen.
They paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Tomorrow’s a big day,” he said. “We both need to get some sleep.”
“I know. There’s a blanket and pillow on the sofa in the family room.”
“What about you? You need some rest, too.”
She sighed. “I wish I could. I’m just . . . I’m too keyed up to sleep.” She swallowed and shook her head. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I just lie there counting every heartbeat, every breath of air going in and out of my lungs. Whenever I close my eyes I think of Charlie and it’s like ... it’s like if I sleep, I’m failing him.”
Dirk caught her shoulders. “You aren’t failing him. You’re trying to keep it together so you won’t fail him.”
Big, teary blue eyes centered on his face. She was standing barefoot on the bottom stair, bringing her height level with his.
“I’m so tired,” she said. “You could make me sleep. We could make love and then I could sleep.” Before he could move, she leaned in to him, her full breasts sinking into his chest, her soft lips coming down over his.
Heat and need hit him like a punch in the stomach. Hot desire clawed at his insides. This was Meg and he wanted her. Ached for her, just as he had before.
For a moment he kissed her back, just sank in and took what he wanted, let the softness of her lips stir the fire in his blood. When she opened, inviting him in, his tongue slid over hers and he went iron hard.
He’d wanted Megan O’Brien since the moment he had seen her strutting down the runway in a pair of strappy high heels, a tiny silver thong, and angelic white-feathered wings.
That feeling was nothing compared to the all-consuming lust he felt for her now, after five long months without her.
“Dirk . . .” Her arms slid up around his neck. “I need you.” She kissed him wildly and he kissed her back, tasting, remembering, yearning. It took every ounce of his will to finally pull himself free and step away.
“We can’t do this, Meg. I’m not going there with you again.”
Her eyes filled, making them look even bigger and bluer. “I can’t take any more, Dirk. I’m going to break; I can feel it. I’m begging you. Just this once. Just for tonight. Please, Dirk.”
He clamped down on his raging need. “Maybe you could take a sleeping pill. You must have something around here.”
“I don’t want a sleeping pill! My son is missing! I can’t bear to think of what might be happening to him! I want someone to hold me. I want someone to touch me. I want to forget for a while. Make me forget, Dirk. Please.”
He was a strong man, but he was no saint. When a woman who looked like Meg begged a man to take her, when that man wanted her the way he’d never wanted another woman, there was only one choice.
Pulling her back into his arms, he claimed her mouth in a deep, thorough kiss. Sliding the silver skirt up to her waist, he cupped her perfect heart-shaped ass and dragged her against him, let her feel the hard ridge beneath the fly of his jeans.
Meg moaned into his mouth and pressed herself more fully against him. The kiss went wild and fierce. He liked to kiss and he loved kissing Meg. He loved the way she tasted, loved the full lips that melded so perfectly with his.
He unzipped the stretchy silver dress down to her waist, then slid the straps off her shoulders, exposing the white lace demi bra that shoved her breasts up like a feast. Bending his head, he tongued her nipple through the sheer fabric, then unfastened the front hook, dragged the bra off, and tossed it away.
Smooth, plump breasts filled his hands. He knew the exact size and shape, knew the weight of them, knew how good they felt nestled in his palms.
He bent and took the fullness into his mouth, heard Meg moan. Arching her back, she urged him to take more of her, and he didn’t disappoint. While his mouth worked her breasts, his hand moved down her body, slid over the tiny strip of satin between her legs.
He was hard as granite, pulsing with the beat of the blood pumping through his veins.
“Take me,” Meg whispered, “I don’t want to wait.” He didn’t want to wait either. He wanted to be inside her so bad his hands clenched into fists.
“Please, I need you so much. Make love to me, Dirk.”
Make love to me. The words hit him like a blow. He couldn’t do this, refused to feel that kind of heartache again.
“Dirk, please.” Her slender fingers cupped him through his jeans, and arousal burned through him. His resolve weakened. Jesus, he wanted her.
He gripped her shoulders, commanding her attention. “If we do this, it’s just sex, Meg. You understand? Just sex, nothing more. We do this, it doesn’t change a thing.”
A little sob came from her throat. “I don’t care, I don’t care. I need you. I can’t take any more.”
He knew what asking him was costing her. Knew she had pushed herself to the ragged edge. He tried not to think that any other man could do the job as well as he, wanted to believe this meant something to Meg, no matter what he’d said.
Sliding an arm beneath her knees, he scooped her against his chest and strode up the stairs, carried her down the hall to her bedroom, set her on her feet next to the bed.
Meg framed his face between her hands and kissed him. “I want you inside me.” Another soft kiss. “Your condoms are still in the drawer.”
His lust-fogged brain hadn’t thought of protection so that was a big problem solved.
Meg worked his belt buckle and buzzed down the zipper on his jeans. It’s just sex, he reminded himself. Just a way to help Meg escape her nightmare, at least for tonight.
Dirk opened the drawer and pulled out a condom, tore it open, and slid it on as he backed her up against the wall. The dress bunched around her waist. Her pretty breasts bobbed free. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
Easing her little white satin panties down over her hips, he let them fall to her ankles, and Meg stepped out of them. Dirk kissed her, felt the heat of her fingers around him, guiding him inside her. Lust hit him hard and he fought not to come.
Lifting her up, he wrapped her long legs around his waist, buried himself deep and began to move, taking her with hard, heavy strokes that sent fresh heat burning through him.
Meg moaned.
“Easy, baby.” He wouldn’t come until she did, not if it killed him. He was doing this for her, giving her what she needed. Giving them both what they needed.
And it wasn’t going to be over anytime soon.
Beneath his thermal, he felt her nails digging into his shoulders as he drove into her. His belt buckle clanked, her head tipped back, and she cried out his name. Meg came hard, but he didn’t stop. Not until he had driven her up over the peak again.
His climax was explosive, drawing his insides into a hot, tight knot and making him groan. For long seconds, he just held her, her arms around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder. Then he felt the wetness of her tears.
“Oh, God, Dirk.” She started to cry as he set her on her feet next to the bed.
“Easy, baby.” Gently, he stripped off the rest of her clothes. “It’s all right, honey. We’re going to bring Charlie home. Everything’s gonna be okay.” For long seconds he just held her, let her cry out some of her grief.
Then he lifted her into his arms and settled her on the mattress. “You think you can sleep now?”
Meg wiped away her tears. “I can if you lie down beside me.”
He reached down and touched her cheek. “If I do, I’ll want you again.”
Fresh tears spilled over. “Yes, please.”
* * *
Meg didn’t care what Dirk said—it wasn’t just sex, at least not for her. Dirk wasn’t just a man she was using to help her get through the worst days of her life. He was the lover she had missed every night since she had sent him away.
She watched as he pulled his long-sleeve thermal off over his head and tossed it away. Removed his work boots and slid out of his jeans. She loved his lean, magnificent body, the sculpted muscles, the six-pack ridges across his flat stomach, the trail of dark hair that arrowed from his navel down into his jeans.
She thought she saw a new tattoo on his shoulder, but in the darkness she couldn’t make out what it was. Then he was kissing her and she was kissing him back and the thought slid away.
He was gentle with her this time, kissing her breasts, then moving lower, using his talented hands and mouth to drive her to the peak, then gently nudging her over.
He took his own pleasure, but she knew hers came first. He was taking care of her, the way he always had. She loved that about him. The way he watched out for her. She loved so much about Dirk.
Her eyes burned in the darkness. What she felt for Dirk didn’t matter. Dirk wasn’t the kind of man to repeat a mistake, and to him that was all she was. He’d been convinced they had a future. She had known all along they didn’t. She had thrown his care of her back in his face, and aside from the sex she had offered him tonight, the sex she’d so badly needed, she’d given him nothing. They were over.
She knew it and so did Dirk.
It was late in the night. With Dirk lying spoon fashion behind her, a hard arm draped over her ribs, she fell asleep for a while, a few minutes of blessed slumber after days without it.
Sometime in the night, she’d started to dream, sweet dreams of Dirk that turned into sadness and loss, then terrifying nightmares about Charlie.
She was awake now, her mind spinning with thoughts of her son. Charlie’s darling little-boy face, the freckles on his nose, his red hair sticking up near the cowlick at the back of his head.
Fear for him clogged her throat. Had sleeping with Dirk been a betrayal? Had those few moments of escape been moments she should have spent praying for her son?
Her eyes filled. Where was her baby now? What was happening to him?
“You aren’t asleep,” Dirk said, a gentle rebuke.
Meg wiped tears from her eyes and rolled onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. “I slept for a while. Thank you for that.”
He leaned over and kissed the side of her neck, traced a finger between her breasts, slid his hand down between her legs. In minutes she was ready for him again, welcoming him inside her, seeking the few desperate moments of peace he so easily gave her.
By the time he was finished, every part of her body felt limp and sated, her mind little more than a hazy blur. As her eyes slid closed, a deep sleep enveloped her.
This time she didn’t dream.