"Mission accomplished, I'd say."
He let out a dry laugh. "She sent me a card the day I took the company public. The one person from my past I ever stayed in touch with."
"Not your father?"
He drew back. "I send him a check every few months. It keeps him away."
"What?"
"I left his house at seventeen, and he didn't do a damn thing to find me. Once he read about me in a magazine, though, he came knocking on my door for handouts. It's easier to toss him some money than deal with the chaos he'd unleash on my life. Let him drink himself into a grave for all I care."
"Walker … "
He shook his head. "It's fine. I made my peace with my parents years ago. They're out of the picture as far as I'm concerned. I didn't need them then, and I don't need them now."
"How did you survive all alone?"
"Odd jobs," he replied. "I sold some really basic software that allowed me to go to college. Or at least, paid that first semester. After that I waited tables, cleaned dorms, did anything that would earn me a buck or two."
"You always seemed exhausted, but I never knew how hard you were working to stay in school."
"After my second year, it just didn't seem worth it. There were so many ideas in my head, and I needed the time to develop them. Something had to give."
"That's when you left the program."
He took her hand. "It was a simple decision to walk away from school. You were the only part I regretted leaving."
She remembered the day he'd told her he was dropping out. She'd done everything in her power to try to convince him to stay. Not because it was best for him, she realized now, but because she was afraid to stay without him. Worse, she'd been afraid her one rock would go somewhere she couldn't follow.
But he never had.
"That's my story," he said. "Abandoned by my mother, practically disowned by my father. I didn't fit anywhere."
"I didn't either," she replied. "Not until we found a way to fit together."
"Meeting you changed my life. Even if it did cost me my favorite sweater."
"I told you to soak it in soda water. Did you? No. Not my fault you can't follow directions."
His chuckle was low and deep. "You felt so guilty you took me out to lunch the next day. That was well worth the cost of a sweater."
She smiled at the memory. So much more about him made sense now. The loneliness that had drawn two misfits together. The drive that had spurred him on to the incredible heights he'd achieved. The commitment to take Hunter in without ever knowing he existed.
Even his refusal to ever enter a permanent relationship. Having witnessed what dashed love could do to a person firsthand, it made sense that a man as logical as Walker would do everything in his power to avoid that fate.
But we are more than his parents.
Maybe someday he'd believe her.
"I'm proud of you," she said, framing his face with her hands. "Proud of who you were able to become."
His hand rose to hers. "I've never told anyone about my childhood."
"Me, neither. I wanted to forget I was ever that helpless person begging for crumbs of affection."
"Easier said than done."
"Yeah." Her gaze dropped to his mouth. "But maybe we can help each other forget."
"I'm all for trying that out," he said, leaning closer.
Examining her own recollections, she realized he was right. If her mother hadn't used her as cheap labor, she would never have known how to handle babies. Which meant she would have been useless to help Hunter. The experiences she'd tried to bury had helped shape the woman she was today.
"If my past helped me find you," she whispered, "how can I regret it?"
When his lips touched hers, she let her eyes flutter shut. Twining her arms around him, she let the worry go. All the pain from the past, the hold it had always had on her future, none of it was as important as the man next to her. When they touched, the world became so much simpler. Nothing mattered beyond the next few moments with him.
When he tumbled her backward onto the pillows she made no protest. After all the nights they'd shared, his body was becoming more known to her. Running her fingers through his hair, she teased the nape of his neck in the way that made his eyes burn for her. It wasn't the only trick she'd learned. She loved to lightly rake her nails along his abdomen and feel the muscles tighten beneath her fingers. Or to run her lips down his spine, tasting the bronzed skin beneath her mouth.
Rolling him over to reverse their positions, she straddled his hips. Deft fingers raced down the buttons of his shirt, which she parted with a satisfied sigh.
"When will I get enough of you?" she asked, sliding her hand over his bare chest.
"If you figure it out, clue me in," he said. Lust filled his gaze as he watched her play. "You're too addicting for you own good."
"Only to you," she said, leaning down to lap a tongue over one nipple.
"Other men are morons," he said, fisting his hands in the sheets.
"Maybe I should teach them the error of their ways," she teased.
A hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back sharply enough to send a thrill through her without any real pain.
"Don't you dare," he ordered with heated eyes. "You're all mine."
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. "That's a two-way street, lover. You're not going anywhere."
"Deal."
She rewarded him with a light kiss before he spun her under him.
"Off," he said, pushing her T-shirt over her head. Her bra followed moments later.
"I don't know why I even bother with underwear around you." She sighed.
"Feel free to throw it all out," he replied with a lecherous grin. "I'm totally fine with easy access."
To prove his point, he reached under her skirt to strip off her panties. When she tried to wiggle out of the last piece of clothing, he stopped her.
"Leave the skirt on," he said, his voice husky.
She glanced at the plaid print and arched a brow. "Have a schoolgirl fetish, do you?"
"Not yet. Ask me in the morning."
Rising over her, he shrugged out of his own shirt and she forgot her complaints. Would she ever get used to the way her mouth went dry at the sight of him? Walker might call her addicting, but he had it all wrong. It was she who lost the power of thought when his clothes came off.
He bent to take one peaked nipple in his mouth and she bit her lip. Pleasure shot through her, pooling between her legs. Not that this feeling was anything new. All he had to do was walk into a room and she wanted to pull him toward the nearest bed. Or couch. Hell, the kitchen island held possibilities, too.
Anyway she could have him, she wanted. Over and over until she lost count of the ways they could explore each other.
"So beautiful," he murmured as he turned his attention to her other breast. "So mine."
"Yes," she sighed. "Yours."
For as long as they had together.
She undulated against him, locking one leg around his hips.
"Want something?" he teased, moving up her body till he could press his lips to her throat.
"You," she said as she tilted her head back to give him access. "Right now."
"What if I want to play?" he whispered in her ear.
She shivered at the hot breath running over her skin. "Later," she promised. "Right now, I just need you inside me."
"Mmm." He rocked against her, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing between her thighs. "I could be persuaded to speed things up. Provided I get to be in charge next time."
Using her leg as leverage, she flipped their positions. "I won't leave you with any complaints," she said.
With quick fingers, she unzipped his jeans and tugged them from his body along with his boxers.
"So much better." She leaned down to draw her tongue over his hard cock, feeling him jerk beneath her hands as he fought not to buck into her mouth.
Clara took her time, letting her hair brush over his abdomen as she drew him deeper into her mouth.
"Christ, sweetheart. If fast is what you want, it's what you'll get if you keep doing that."
In response, she flicked her tongue over the crown of his cock. Power surged through her as she teased him. He could drive her to distraction, but right now, all the decisions were hers. To taste him with a light brush of her tongue, to swallow him down till his guttural groan echoed in the air around them. Her nails dug into his thighs as she rocked over him. Tension thrummed in his body. Every movement had him straining against her until the salty taste of him touched her tongue.
"Stop," he panted. "I want to be inside of you."
With a last languid lick, she released his glistening cock to toss him a smile.
"Me too," she purred.
Blindly he reached for the bedside table and the box of condoms they'd stashed inside. In no time, he unrolled one onto his long length before his hands sought hers.