Anything for Her(83)

“I love you,” he said hoarsely. “I love you.”

She stirred at that. He loosened his arms so she could straighten and see his face. Her face, blotchy and swollen and wet, had never looked more beautiful to him.

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do. It’s been killing me by inches, knowing you were hiding one hell of a lot. You’ve been tearing me in two.”

Her face worked again. After a struggle she regained her composure. “I’ve been breaking into a thousand pieces. Oh, Nolan. I love you. I do. I was so afraid.”

She loved him. The knowledge blazed inside him, torching every last doubt or fear. He bent forward until his forehead touched hers. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you.”

Allie still hadn’t released her grip on his shirt. From this angle, he could see her two fists clutching onto him. He liked knowing she wasn’t willing to let go.

Her slight nod bumped against his head.

“Do you feel better now?” He squeezed her neck. “Or worse?”

“I...don’t know,” she admitted. “Somehow I have to put myself back together, and I have no idea how.”

“I’ll do anything I can to help. Anything.”

On an inarticulate exclamation, she pressed her mouth to his. The kiss hurt for a minute, their lips jammed between their teeth. That bubble in his chest expanded until he couldn’t breathe. He opened his mouth and coaxed her to do the same. The next instant, they were kissing deeply, passionately, utterly lost in each other.

“Love you,” he growled, pulling his mouth away long enough to kiss her neck.

She took the opportunity to bite his earlobe. His body surged and he rose to his feet, adjusting Allie so that she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

He wasn’t sure he’d make it to the bedroom, but there was no sofa in the living room and not much floor space, either.

Somehow he made it around the quilt frame and stumbled down the short hall and through the door into her room. She didn’t help matters, her mouth open and damp on his throat, her tongue slipping out to taste his skin.

Nolan collapsed with her onto the bed, his weight compressing her into the mattress. If she minded, it wasn’t obvious. She moaned and lifted her hips to cradle him.

Their clothes disappeared. Fabric ripped at one point. Getting a condom on was a miracle. Driving into her felt better than anything ever had in his life. The only way to silence the guttural sounds he was making was to kiss her again.

Her fingernails bit into his back. He’d lost all ability to take this slowly, to handle her gently, but she didn’t seem to want that. She met every thrust with a ferocity that matched his urgency. He wasn’t going to last, but he had to wait for her. He gripped her buttock and lifted her higher.

She cried his name and came in spasms that destroyed any last remnant of control he’d held on to. He pounded into her, blind, deaf, the pleasure barely short of pain. “Love you,” he managed to get out. And when it ended, he collapsed.

If he was smothering her, it took her a couple of minutes to notice. At her first wriggle, Nolan managed to roll onto his side, taking her with him. To his regret, he slipped out of her body. If he could have stayed there for the rest of his life, he’d have been happy.

“Damn,” he said in a thick voice. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?’

“Hurt me?” Her lack of comprehension was obvious. A frown puckered her forehead while she thought about it. “No,” she finally decided. “You couldn’t.”

“I could.” He rubbed his bristly cheek on her head. “I’m so much bigger than you are.”

A giggle was his answer. It fizzed, pure effervescence. “Bet I can jump higher than you can.”

He’d gone to a ballet once. A woman he was dating in Chicago had bought tickets. He couldn’t say he followed the plot, if there was one, and the experience wasn’t one he’d had any interest in repeating, but the athleticism was mind-boggling. The lead ballerina had literally flown.

“I bet you can, too,” he admitted. Light on his feet he wasn’t. “Next time I’ll let you dance on top of me.”

She stroked his chest, her fingers curling in the dark hair. “That sounds like fun.”

They were quiet for a few minutes. Nolan had never felt so sated, boneless, relaxed. The curve of her slight body against his was perfect. The only part of him inclined to move was his hand, which traced patterns on her back.