Straddling the Line(22)

"Damn, Trevor, you're big," she said.

Not the first time he'd heard that. He held his torso off her with the  palms of his hands and looked down at her. "Do you need me to stop?"

"No. Don't stop. If you stop I swear to God I'll kill you."

He smiled at her. "Okay, then. You let me know what works for you."

"No problem there. You fucking me is working for me right now. Just keep doing what you're doing."

Again, she gave commands, and he was happy to comply. "I like being  inside you, Haven. I like it a lot." He cupped her butt and lifted her  hips, then drove in deeper. She gasped, and raked her nails along his  forearms.

"Yeah, I like that, too. Do it again."

He did, sliding in, then pulling out, only to ease back in, this time  with a little more force. And when he did, he ground against her, making  sure to give her clit plenty of attention.

Haven arched her back and widened her legs. "Oh, yes. Like that. A lot more like that. It feels so good."

He loved the sound of her voice when she was lost in the throes of  passion. She dropped an octave and added some gravel to her voice. And  since she'd tilted her head back, she gave him an opportunity to lick  her neck.

"Oh, my God, Trevor. You keep doing that while you're fucking me, you're  going to make me come again." This time, her voice begged, and he knew  it wasn't a complaint.

"I like the way you taste, Haven," he whispered against her neck. "All  over. I like your skin, the way you breathe, and I especially like the  way you move when I'm inside you. You make me want to come hard."

She lifted her head and met his gaze, her eyes glazed with passion.  "Yes. I want that. I need you to come. I need you to feel what I've  felt. It's so good."

And then there were no words because he was lost in her depths, and now  it was his turn to do nothing but feel. He knew he could get her there,  but as he powered into her with a thrust, she tightened around him and,  oh, man, the sounds of her moans and whimpers as she came just wrecked  him. That was the end for him, because all he wanted was to let go.

When he released, it was like he'd been catapulted from his own skin. He  grabbed hold of Haven and thrust deeply into her when he came. She  wrapped her arms and legs around him as he shuddered through an epic  climax that left him sweating and shaking, glad he had Haven to hold on  to as a lifeline.

His breaths sawed in and out. He took a few more, catching his breath,  swiping his hands over her face. She looked up at him, her eyes clear as  she smiled at him. He bent and brushed his lips over hers, getting lost  in the way she tasted, rolling over and bringing her with him, liking  that they were still so intimately connected.

He wasn't sure he wanted to let her go. But he did, pulling her out of  the bed with him so they could go into her bathroom and clean up a bit.  He glanced at her in the mirror. She looked tired, so he climbed into  bed with her and she laid her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes  and she was out within minutes.

He lay there listening to her breathe, enjoying the feel of her body snuggled up next to his.

Eventually, he closed his eyes and drifted off.





SIXTEEN




HAVEN WALKED THE STERILE WHITE CORRIDORS, knowing what waited for her in  that room. She dreaded it, but knew she had to go there, to be with her  dad.         

     



 

He needed her, and she'd endure anything just to be there for him. There wasn't much time left.

She took a deep, stabilizing breath and entered the room.

It was empty. She looked all around, but she couldn't find him. "Dad?" She called out, but he didn't answer.

She hurried out of the room, running as fast as she could, but it was like running in mud. Her legs weren't working right.

"Dad? Where are you? I can't find you."

Haven.

She heard his voice calling her name and ran to the sound. But still, she could barely move, let alone run.

Haven.

His voice grew more faint. She struggled, forcing her legs and feet to  push harder. This was so damn frustrating. She had to get to him before  it was too late.

"I'm coming, Dad. I'm trying to find you. Where are you?"

She felt the wetness of tears roll down her face, knew she wasn't going to reach him in time.

Suddenly, there he was, at the end of the hall. So close, and yet an  ocean's distance away, because as she looked at him, so frail, so thin  as he reached his arms out for her, she could already see he was  disappearing.

"No, Dad, no. Please don't go."

She let out a gasping sob, trying to reach him as he held his arms out.

Haven. I have to go.

"Daddy, no. Please don't leave me."

But it was too late. He was gone.

She dropped to the ground and released the wall of tears.

"Haven. Haven, wake up."

She shot up in bed, still crying, and turned her face into Trevor's  shoulder, wrapping her arms around someone solid, someone real.

"Shh, it's okay, honey."

She couldn't even form words right then because the dream had been so  vivid to her, the ache of losing her father all over again hurting so  badly it made her throat close up, made her heart hurt.

Trevor didn't even ask, just stroked her back and murmured words of  comfort as he held tight to her until she cried out the anguish of loss.  When the gasping sobs subsided and she had nothing left, he reached  over on the nightstand and handed her a box of tissues. She blew her  nose and dried her eyes.

And then he held her, not speaking until her breathing returned to normal.

She couldn't talk about it. She hoped to God he wouldn't ask.

Trevor pulled back, his face etched with concern. "I'm going to get you a drink. I'll be right back. Are you going to be okay?"

She nodded.

He slid out of bed and left the bedroom, giving her a few minutes to  dash into the bathroom. She flipped on the light, splashed water on her  face, blew her nose a few more times, then finally looked up.

God, she looked like she'd been on an all-night bender. Her eyes were  tear-stained and swollen, her nose all red, and she looked-awful. How  embarrassing to have that nightmare after she and Trevor had just had a  fun night together.

She should have known better than to get involved with someone. She just  wasn't ready yet. She'd opened up the emotional floodgates and look  what happened.

She went back into the bedroom and threw on a pair of sweats and a tank top, then crawled on top of the covers.

Trevor came back in, still gloriously, beautifully naked. For a second,  she thought about changing her mind, but refused to waver. She was  making the right choice.

The only choice.

"Here, drink this."

"Thanks." She was ridiculously dehydrated after all that crying, so she  took a few deep swallows, then set the glass aside. "I'm fine now. And  actually really wiped."

He started to climb into bed with her, but she stood. "I think I'd sleep better alone."

He arched a brow. "I thought maybe you'd want to talk about your nightmare."

She let out a short laugh. "That's the last thing I want to talk about.  I'd rather forget it, and get some sleep. And you probably should, too.  Like, in your own bed."

He didn't move, just sat on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong, Haven?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just need to be alone."

"Something about that dream freaked you out. You should talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go back to sleep. And  honestly, I'm not much for bedmates. Don't take it personally."

"So, you're kicking me out."

"Um . . . yes. Sorry. But it's not you, it's me. Really. I just know I  won't get any sleep tonight with you here. It's just a weird quirk of  mine. I hope you understand."

Her excuse sounded incredibly lame, even to her own ears.

"Not a problem." He grabbed his clothes and got dressed, then came to  her, sliding his hands up and down her arms, generating heat despite her  discomfort.         

     



 

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for the water and for . . . you know-being there. It  was just a silly nightmare. Zombies or something. I don't even remember  most of it now. Honestly." She finished it off with a shrug.

He didn't look like he believed her. "If you're sure."

"Absolutely."

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning."

She was already walking him to her bedroom door. "Okay."

As soon as he left her room, she shut the door and leaned against it, tears pricking her eyes again.

Why did she throw him out? Why couldn't she let him stay and offer her  comfort? And why wouldn't she tell him about her dream about her dad?

Because that would have required her to open up emotionally, and she  needed to maintain her distance. She'd already made a mistake by having  sex with him, and she couldn't afford to get any closer to him.

It was better this way. She pulled off her clothes and climbed back into  bed, which now seemed colder, bigger, and emptier without Trevor's body  to warm her, and memories of her father still lingered after her dream.