Loving You Always (14 page)

T
he words she’d spoken burned his ears and flipped his heart. Walsh made a conscious effort to loosen his arms, which were auto-clamped around Kerris like she might disappear if he blinked. And it still felt that way. After so long, she felt like smoke in his arms. Like she’d dissipate if he didn’t clutch her close enough. She pulled back and settled on her feet. In the heels he’d chosen especially for her, she was a few inches taller than she usually stood, but still barely made it to his shoulder. He’d always dated models and tall girls like Sofie. That this petite woman who stood heart-level in her bare feet had owned him so completely, effortlessly, almost from the beginning still amazed him.

“I know it’s been a long time, but—”

“Worth the wait.” He had to cut her off, dragging his thumb over one high cheekbone. “Don’t ever doubt that you were worth the wait, Kerris.”

The last few years had sliced him open, jerked out his insides, and stuffed everything back in messily, sloppily, haphazardly. Nothing had felt right until now. They still had a landmine to negotiate. Walsh had never dated anyone quietly. What had started as the media’s casual interest in his love life even when he was in high school had only intensified when he dated Sofie, and hadn’t dropped off nearly as much has he’d like. The three-ring circus of him dating his best friend’s not-even-ex-yet-wife? Inevitable. Kerris would hate that. Walsh would hate it, too. This perfection between them—this connection of heart, mind, and soul—shouldn’t be sensationalized. So he’d be discreet, but he had no intention of being subtle. Not tonight.

“Hungry?” He gestured to the table, already set with stuffed lobster tail, asparagus, and new baby potatoes.

Once she noticed the food, her eyes widened and she licked her lips. Walsh would wait his turn, but he planned to lick her lips, too. He pulled out her chair, leaning down to draw in the smell hidden behind her ears and along her neck. He’d made sure Kerris’s vanilla scent was on Trisha’s shopping list.

As easily as they had always talked with each other, there was little conversation over dinner. Walsh barely ate, doing no justice to the delicious meal he’d had delivered from Stream, the seafood restaurant in town. Kerris would glance up from her food and find him staring. She didn’t bother to ask what he was looking at or if anything was wrong. Absolutely nothing was wrong. Things were finally right, and he almost couldn’t believe it. Time for phase two. He glanced at his watch and reached across the table to take her hand.

“Do you remember that Fourth of July by the river?”

Kerris nodded, lowering her eyes to their clasped hands but not speaking.

“I was fighting so hard against wanting you.” Walsh swallowed, taking a sip of his white wine before continuing. “Cam touched your hair and your face and I wanted to strangle him. You were his, but you felt like mine. Even then, you felt like mine.”

“We laughed by the river.” She smiled a little. “I still have the rock I found that day with you. The one you asked me about.”

“I know we can’t undo the past. The pain and the misunderstandings. How we hurt Cam.” Walsh watched the moonlight caressing the river before looking back at Kerris, seeing the regret and hope warring in her eyes. “But there was one thing we didn’t get to share together that day, and I thought maybe tonight we could.”

“What was that?”

“Fireworks.”

And right on time, based on Walsh’s calculations, the sky flared and popped, light and fire exploding over the river. The fireworks display wasn’t the show, though. The expression on Kerris’s face made him her captive audience of one. She sped over to grip the rail. She covered her mouth to catch the laugh that sprang free, and Walsh could see she wasn’t fully processing that he had actually arranged a fireworks display just for her. He watched it dawn on her, the laughter melting away and something very close to awe settling on her face.

He approached her at the rail. Their eyes locked and held, that same electric current passing between them that had fried his brain the first night he’d met her. That had branded his soul with her and only her ever since. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a delicate chain. He turned her to face the fireworks while he laid the necklace against her heart and hooked the clasp behind her neck. She fingered the orchid charm suspended from the chain, an orchid made of Swarovski crystals, faceted and spectral against the creamy gold of her skin. The first time he had seen her, she’d worn an orchid in her hair. He would never see the flower again without thinking of her.

He didn’t give her the chance to turn around, but clasped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She looked up, tilting her head to see him standing behind her.

“It’s beautiful.” She stroked the orchid charm with one hand and pointed to the sky, still electrified with color, light, and sound. “It’s all so beautiful. You’ll spoil me.”

Walsh moved his hands to her hips, turning her around to face him.

“Exactly my plan.” He dusted kisses down the fragile line of her jaw and neck, inhaling the addictive scent that was only partly vanilla and mostly Kerris.

“Why, Walsh?” she whispered, her voice wavering and her eyes rimmed with tears. “Why me?”

“My heart didn’t give me a choice. I saw you and was gone almost from the beginning.” He was so close he could smell nothing but her, could see nothing but her, felt the warm curve of her waist beneath his hands. “You are the best decision my heart ever made.”

Walsh didn’t bend, but waited for her to come to him, and she did. On her toes again, she tunneled her fingers into his hair and gave him that beautiful lush mouth he’d possessed in his dreams more times than he could count. This wasn’t a dream, though. And it wasn’t frantic or rushed. She browsed his mouth, running her tongue along his teeth and licking into corners and crevices like they had all the time in the world. And maybe now they did.

“You trust me, right?” He whispered against her lips between kisses.

She nodded, squeaking when he lifted her and set her on the rail.

“I got you,” he said, gripping her waist and pushing her thighs open so he could stand between them. “You in this dress, baby? Driving me crazy. I keep seeing these beautiful legs wrapped around my waist.”

Kerris nodded, setting her elbows on his shoulders and caressing the back of his neck, bringing him back in for a kiss. Sucking his lips. Licking into his mouth. Nibbling at the corners. She never broke the kiss, but hooked her ankles behind his back, her slim legs tightening around his waist when he lifted her and stepped away from the rail. When he slid his hands to cup her butt and carried her down the shallow stairs to the one bedroom on the houseboat.

She flowed like water down his body when she loosened her legs and settled back on the floor. Walsh’s fingers shook a little over the hidden zipper at the back of the short dress, the hiss of its teeth revealing her to him like a secret. This moment, the promise of this revelation, had tortured him ever since he’d seen the dress in the store. For their first date, he’d wanted her wrapped from head to toe in everything he had chosen. Taking possession of what was his in the only ways he could until her divorce was final.

“Walsh, remember we can’t,” she said in between kisses, her breath hot and sweet on his lips.

“I know. Everything but. I just want to see you.”

He pulled back to hold her eyes, sliding the zipper all the way down and peeling the material over her shoulders and down her sleek arms, rolling it past the subtle dip of her waist and hips, past the rounded cheeks of her ass and down the tanned length of her legs.

Worth every penny. The Carine Gilson lingerie looked like it had been painted onto her body. He’d chosen the nude-colored sheer bra knowing that tonight he’d see her nipples pressing against the transparent fabric like ripe berries. Chosen the thong knowing he’d run his palms along the smooth, naked curves left completely exposed. Envisioned the dress pooling at her feet. What he hadn’t imagined was the sweet color flushing her cheeks, or the way she looked at the floor and pulled her dark hair forward to cover her breasts. The way her breath stuttered in her chest or how she bit the corner of her mouth while she waited for him to say something.

He pushed the hair back over her shoulders and slid one hand behind her head, caressing with his thumb the soft hairs curling at her neck.

“No dream, no fantasy of you standing like this here in front of me could have prepared me for how beautiful you are, Kerris. You steal my breath.”

He pulled her small hands to his chest, the truth of his words banging a frantic rhythm beneath his shirt because of her. It always had. He would spend the rest of his life making sure she believed him.

He would never ask her about the intimacy she had shared with Cam. It would be too much for him, and would ruin any chance, if there was still one, of them repairing their friendship. On one hand, he wasn’t sure he even wanted Cam’s friendship anymore. On the other, he wasn’t sure that he deserved it. He knew how TJ had hurt Kerris and he knew Cam was the only man she had ever been with. Walsh knew that he himself would be her last lover. That was all that mattered anymore.

He dipped his head and licked the bow of her top lip, diving into her mouth, bobbing for her tongue. Tangling their lips and tongues in an intercourse between their mouths that left him heated and hard. Measuring their steps in inches, he guided her toward the bed he’d chosen for this room. For this night. When her knees hit the edge, he lowered her to the bed, stepping back to stare at the length of her body, blemished only by the few scars remaining from her accident, but still perfect to him. Would he be able to do this? Touch her? Taste her without taking her fully? Without finally coming home inside of her? He had lived without any of her for so long, but he could and he would control himself.

And he would enjoy every minute of it.

He knelt at the edge of the bed, and she came up on her elbows to watch him. He removed her shoes, taking one small foot in his hand. He kissed the high arch, licking at the fragile bone of her ankle. He ran his nose along the length of her calf until he reached her knee. He snared her eyes as he sucked behind her knee, grinning when her eyelids dropped and her elbows collapsed under her until she lay flat against the bed’s silk duvet. He repeated the same ministrations with the other foot, loving her ankle, calf, and knee. He breathed kisses over her inner thighs until he reached her center, concealed by only a small triangle of silk.

He had to have some of her. He mouthed the hot, wet flesh through her panties, moaning at the taste of her exploding on his tongue. She arched off the bed, gripping his head and rolling her hips into the searching hunger of his mouth. He slid his hand up the silky skin of her waist until he reached her bra, pulling the fragile cup down and dusting his fingers across her nipple, so hard and tight. He lost himself in devouring her, loving her until she went completely still for a few moments, like she was absorbing every sensation. Then she cried out, splitting the quiet of the room down the middle with a dry sob that shook her shoulders and hoarsened her voice. Walsh pressed his face into the tremor of her thighs on either side of him, relishing the shake and shudder of her body surrendering to the first orgasm he had ever given her.

But certainly not the last.

K
erris woke up with Walsh’s name on her lips. As vigilant as she had always been, careful in what she said and did, her dreams showed no such caution. Her dreams had always been wild horses. Charging past her inhibitions and morals, giving in to the desires she’d always checked when awake.

“I love that you say my name in your sleep.”

Kerris panicked for a moment. Walsh was in her bed! She was used to waking up with his name on her lips and a guilty ache in her heart. Bed empty. Hope sagging. Frustrated and a little horny. Instead she felt sated, limbs weighted with leftover pleasure. Her sleep-fuzzed brain cleared second by second until last night snapped into focus. She had come more than once. And so had he, but they hadn’t crossed that line. It was a technicality, one most people wouldn’t care about, but one she clung to. One she needed.

She pushed back against the warm wall of muscle at her back. Walsh’s hands wandered, lifting the gown he’d given her to wear last night, running his hands along her stomach and between her breasts until he reached the orchid charm she’d worn to bed. She turned over, and it was surreal to see Walsh’s broad shoulders, the muscles stacked in his stomach, his dark green eyes and bed-rumpled hair, first thing in the morning.

“Did I say your name?” Kerris pulled her brows together and pushed her lips to one side. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, I’m sure that after last night I recognize my name on your lips.”

Kerris’s mouth rounded into an “o” and she buried her face in his shoulder.

“Walsh, good grief.”

“Are you embarrassed?” He chuckled, nudging her shoulders until she was pressed back against the Egyptian cotton sheets and he was propped on his elbows, hovering over her. “I think I said your name a time or two myself.”

“I just…this situation will take some getting used to. That’s all.”

“Am I a situation?” He breathed the words against her neck, tracking his lips up to draw her earlobe between his lips, between his teeth.

Embarrassment withered and died as desire, hot and urgent, came alive. Kerris turned her head, intercepting his mouth, moaning into the kiss as his hands pushed the silk gown up over her hips. A strident ringing stilled them both, lips pressed together, Walsh hard between her thighs. He dropped his forehead to hers, huffing a frustrated breath.

“That’s my dad’s ring tone.”

Kerris tapped his shoulder for him to move.

“Get it! I will not be responsible for—”

He covered her open mouth with his, gripping her hip and grinding into her, taking her breath and every thought hostage.

“It’s totally your fault,” he whispered against her lips. He rolled over to sit on the side of the bed and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. “Hey, Dad.”

Kerris eyed the tanned, muscled terrain of Walsh’s back, tapering to his hips and butt. If she had thought of herself as a frozen river at one time, she was anything but now. She was a hot spring, rising and steaming and gushing every time she was around this man.

“Dammit, don’t tell me that.” Walsh leaned one elbow on his knee and ran his fingers through the dark hair curling around his neck.

Kerris rolled out of bed, letting the ivory and black silk of her gown float down her legs. She had never worn anything like it. And the matching kimono? Kerris smiled and tied the sash at her waist. Draped in decadence. That’s how she felt. The real decadence? The hours they’d spent making that bed an altar where they worshipped each other’s bodies. The true luxury? A night in Walsh’s arms, falling asleep to reckless dreams and waking up safe in his love.

And now it was time for food.

She hadn’t seen a kitchen last night, but this place seemed to have everything else. She assumed there was a place to cook and food to eat. She stepped toward the door, only to have Walsh snag her wrist and pull her to stand in front of him.

“Yep, I hear you, Dad.” Walsh dropped kisses on her silk-covered stomach, caressing the curve of her butt. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Kerris ran a hand over the unruly dark hair she had tugged last night as he pleased her unbearably. He looked up, his eyes soft, his grin a beautiful slash across the plane of his face. He patted her backside and turned her toward the door.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” he said into the phone.

Kerris opened the bedroom door for the first time since last night when Walsh had brought her to bed wrapped around him like a lusty, clingy vine. Up on deck, the sun shone so brightly she squinted and sheltered her eyes with her hand. She explored the houseboat for a few minutes before she found the kitchen. Sure enough, it was fully stocked with everything she needed for pancakes and eggs.

Kerris was preparing an omelet when Walsh walked in wearing only boxers. Her mouth watered but not for the food. He stepped behind her, pulling her into his chest. Kerris leaned back into him, simultaneously comforted and excited by the hard strength of him encompassing her.

“I have to go back to Saudi.”

Kerris turned the stove off and slumped her shoulders an inch.

“When do you leave?”

“In the morning.”

“Oh. I just thought we’d have more time.”

“I planned for us to have a week together.” Walsh pulled her hair into one fist and smoothed the length of it. “I didn’t count on a stubborn sheikh needing me to hold his hand until this deal is signed.”

Kerris loaded food onto their plates and moved away to set them on the table. She blinked back foolish tears. She was the one who had sent him away for a year. And here she stood, puddling on the floor because he was leaving.

“I understand.” She put forks down and poured orange juice, not looking at him in case he saw how disappointed she was.

“Baby, if I could get out of this I would.” Walsh sat down to eat. “Dad’s flying through to pick me up in the morning, and we’re flying straight there.”

Kerris was once again reminded how vastly different his life was from hers. She’d never even been out of the country, and Walsh hopped private jets like they were city buses. All her doubts that she could live in his world and share his life flooded her mind.

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.” Kerris looked up, fiddling with the charm at her neck. “Things are moving fast. A little space might be good.”

“Space?” Walsh wrapped an arm around her waist and slid her chair as close to his as possible. “We had a year of that. The last thing we need between us is space. Why don’t you come with me?”

“Oh, yeah. I can see the headline now. ‘Small-Town Girl Torn Between Two Lovers.’ The press would have a field day.”

“Baby, I’m not going to hide us.”

“Walsh, I’m not asking you to hide.” Kerris pulled back an inch to look at him. “I just want to be discreet.”

“Discretion is a habit for me, Kerris. I’ve been living with media attention for a long time.” He lifted her chin, his eyes resolved. “But I won’t pretend we’re not together, and anyone who sees us in the same room will know I’m completely whipped.”

“You’re not—”

“I am.” He left the words on her lips. “I so am.”

Kerris closed her eyes, unable to hold back from him when he was giving her so much.

“I don’t want you to go.” Kerris dropped her forehead to his chest before looking up. “I’m tired of missing you.”

“Come with me.” His earnest eyes trapped hers. “I want you with me.”

“I can’t just leave Mama Jess and Meredith with all the responsibility.” Kerris gave a definitive shake of her head. “They’ve done so much while I recovered. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“But if we—”

“Please don’t tempt me.” She supplicated with just a glance. “I want to pull my weight at the shop, and it would be irresponsible just to drop everything and go. This is hard enough.”

Walsh’s head dropped back until he was looking at the ceiling. He brought his eyes back level with hers.

“Okay, I won’t make it any harder. But don’t expect to leave this houseboat today. We still have a lot of catching up to do.” He pulled her into his lap. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined you like you were last night? Not just your body. You across a dinner table from me. Us in bed laughing and talking. It was perfect.”

Kerris walked her fingers up his chest and around his neck. She met him halfway for a knee-weakening kiss.

“Everything far exceeded my imagination, Walsh.”

“Oh, so you’ve imagined me?”

His eyes teased her, but the memory of having only her imagination sobered her. Daydreaming in the tub. Drifting off while cooking dinner to meet Walsh in her mind. Only having him in her dreams, and feeling guilty every time.

“As much as I dared, yes.”

Walsh’s eyes lost the laugh, but held on to the tenderness.

“I’m right here now. Save your dreams for our future. I wanted our first night together to be…what it was.”

“Some first date. The fireworks. This beautiful necklace. The dress. The kimono. Are you trying to buy my affections, Mr. Bennett?”

“Pretty sure I already have your affections.”

Kerris hit his bare chest.

“Arrogant!”

“Pretty sure you already knew that.”

“You’re right. I did. So do you treat all your first dates that way?”

He dropped his lashes, shielding his eyes before looking back at her, eyes serious and probing.

“Only my last first date.”

Her divorce wasn’t final. They’d just had their first date last night. She cleared her throat. What was she supposed to say to that?

“Um…your food’s getting cold. Aren’t you hungry?”

He laid his lips against hers.

“I’ll let you get away with it for now. And yes, after waiting all this time to be with you? Starved.”

“Food, Walsh.” She smiled into their kiss. “I meant for food.”

It felt so normal, so good, so right to be with him first thing in the morning. Doing things normal people did. They had always experienced each other only in stolen snatches, creating a mystique that compounded the intensity of their connection. Kerris had wondered how it would withstand the mundane. It was holding up rather nicely.

“This is nice, right?” Walsh asked, echoing her thoughts.

Kerris nodded and smiled around a mouthful of pancake.

“You look so happy. How can I arrange to spend every morning like this for the rest of my life?”

Kerris sobered, laying her fork down and moving to get up from his lap. His comment could lead them down a dangerous path. Walsh trapped her against him.

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll drop it. Just stay right here. I hate it when you run from me.”

“I’m not running.” The lie soured the sweetness of syrup in her mouth. There were many things she was still running from. “I’m right here.”

“I mean running in here.” Walsh laid his hand against her heart.

He must have felt that stupid, traitorous muscle pounding furiously through the thin silk of her gown and kimono. His hand brushed against the soft curve of her breast, and she pressed herself deeper into his roughened palm.

He pushed the kimono away from her shoulders, allowing the silken folds to gather and hang at her elbows. Slowly, looking into the storm of desire she knew was gathering force in her eyes, he pushed the straps down her arms and watched the gown puddle around her waist. He swallowed hard at the sight of her naked breasts, rounded and full. He dipped his finger into the syrup on his plate, hovering over one nipple. Her chest heaved with the wait, every cell in her body impatient for his touch. The wicked passion lighting his eyes only intensified the torturous seconds before he slowly massaged the sticky syrup onto one nipple.

His fingers rubbed the syrup into the sensitive flesh, making Kerris gasp. Her eyelids dropped, white flags signaling her complete surrender. And then he was at her breast, the hot, wet worship of his tongue suckling the syrup away, laving the puckered areola.

“Ah.”

That one syllable was all Kerris could spare. He had stolen her next breath, stolen her next thought. She pressed into the heat of his hungry mouth, clutching his head to her breast. Her head fell back, and the rhythmic suckling of his lips and tongue was so beautifully erotic she wanted to shove the dishes to the floor, drag Walsh up to the table, and slather syrup over every inch of his body. There were acres of hardened flesh to explore and worship in kind.

Kerris pulled him away from her breast and their lips collided, their tongues tangling, until she heard only one thing. The beating of her heart.