Worth the Wait (McKinney_Walker #1)(58)

“Is it wrong for me to want her with me? To wish her real mother didn’t want her? Am I thinking about what’s best for her? I don’t know. I was best for her,” she sobbed, her fist against her chest. “Why couldn’t I be best for her? I should have run. I should have just left with her.”

“Shh. You don’t mean that.” He felt as though her heart were breaking right before his eyes, and no matter how tightly he held her, he couldn’t stop it.

“I do. I do.” She peered up at him, the misery in her eyes so stark that it ripped through him. “I want her back. I just want her back.”

“I know. I know you do.” He repeated that and other words he hoped were comforting. He kissed her forehead, her hair, cradled her against his chest and let her cry. What the hell could he do? “I’m so sorry.”

She deserved so much more. He wished he could be what she deserved. He’d thought at one time he was.

“If I just knew where she was, that she was okay,” she cried. “The not knowing, it’s killing me, Nick.”

He held her tighter. He could possibly get the information she wanted, but would that really help her? He wasn’t sure.

She peered up at him, eyes red, face wet and splotchy, and he wanted her more than anything. Wanted to console her, wanted to rant and rage on her behalf. Would give anything for the chance to slay her dragons, to go back in time and shield her from that pain.

He’d tried his best to protect her from himself and broken both of their hearts in the process.

She had this way of looking at him, like he was everything she’d ever needed, the only thing in the world she would ever need. She was looking at him like that right now.

He brushed his thumb under her eyes. She didn’t look away, and he followed the motion with his lips. He kissed her cheeks and down the side of her face. Her dark, sad eyes met and held his. Seconds passed with no more than a breath between them. He hesitated, not wanting to do anything to hurt her.

But when her eyelids fluttered closed, he pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips parted beneath his, and she took his breath into her lungs. Then she was kissing him, her fingers clasping the back of his head, twisting in the shirt on his back like she was sliding over a cliff and he was her only hope for survival.





Chapter 20





THERE WAS NO KISS like Nick’s. He made love to her mouth with an intensity that tore her down until there was nothing. Nothing but his mouth on hers, his fingers tunneling through her hair. He tilted her back over his arm and feasted like she was everything he ever needed.

A dizzy, floating feeling drifted through her brain, then even more when he lifted her, cradled her in his arms, and carried her through the home that should have been theirs.

He laid her down on the bed, and for one sharp second a vicious war battled. Need against fear. His body came over hers, and with just a look from those brown eyes, she was tossed and shaken until she was afraid she would fall and fall until she was lost. Afraid, but willing to risk everything not to lose this moment, this feeling.

Hot and damp, his mouth skated along her jaw, up to her temple, then teased the corner of her mouth. His barely-stubbled cheek brushed hers, and it was one sensation, one more reminder she was alive. He continued with patience and skill until she wanted to be lost, wanted to go wherever Nick could take her.

“Let me take care of you.”

Yes. She tried to push out that one word past the emotions clogging her throat, but he didn’t need it. He was already taking care of her, taking her away in that slow, single-minded, possessive way he had that melted her muscles and made her helpless to him.

This time their lovemaking was more tentative and tender, more like their very first time so many years ago. A rediscovering with skimming lips and gliding fingers.

Her body rose up to meet his at the same time he tipped her head back to deepen the kiss. She dragged at his shirt, impatient to feel him, the familiar and the different. Smooth, hot skin over strength and rippling muscle.

“Please.” There was such an ache, a hole to fill that only he could. He used his hands, his mouth. He had good hands. Strong and skilled and slightly rough.

Nick peeled off her clothes one piece at a time, then his own, slowing it down, bringing them back. Those strong hands stroked over her, cupping and molding her breasts until her breath quickened and her senses blurred. Reaching under her shirt, he flicked open her bra, tugged it away, then took her beyond the realm of clear thinking. With deep, blinding kisses and skilled fingers, he drove her up until her breath became moans.

His touch reminded her of the past and all they’d shared. His tender kiss drew her under, and his sure hands held her there. They undid her, reminded her of what had been, then melted and melded into what was now.