Dare to Dream (14 page)

Chapter 30

L
incoln ran into the room to where Desiree was huddled in a corner, crying hysterically.

“Desi.” He got down on the floor next to her and put his arms around her shaking shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He looked around the room, thinking the worst.

“Fire…smoke…I can’t breathe.” She coughed and gagged as if she were back in the burning room.

“Desiree, you’re safe. There’s no fire.” He stroked her face and turned her head to look at him. “There’s no fire, Desiree.”

Desiree blinked several times until Lincoln came into focus. She snapped her head around and took in her surroundings. She grabbed Lincoln’s shirt, then pressed her face against his chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Come on, let me help you.” He got her to her feet and walked with her over to the bed. “Lie down. Relax. Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head as she stretched out on the bed on her side. He sat next to her. “Try to get some rest.” He brushed her damp hair away from her forehead. “I’ll be right in the next room if you need me.”

“No! Please don’t leave me.” She sat up. “Please.”

“Okay, okay. Relax. I’ll stay right here.” He settled her back down and pulled the covers up over her shoulders.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

She was silent for a few minutes and then began to speak in slow measured tones. “It was like I was back in the room again and I couldn’t get out. I was choking and smoke and fire were everywhere.” She shuddered.

Lincoln rubbed her back. “You’re safe here with me.”

“When is it going to stop, Lincoln? I can’t live like this.” She pressed her face against his chest and he held her close.

“Time is a great healer,” he said. “Give yourself some time.”

She sighed heavily, eased back and curled her body into the fetal position on the bed. “I thought that’s what I was doing when I came to Sag Harbor.”

“Did you have the nightmares there?”

She shook her head. “No.” Her eyes found his. “I was almost starting to feel like myself again.”

“You should have stayed.”

“Maybe,” she murmured. “But I’ll never really feel better if I don’t get to the bottom of what’s really bothering me. I have to find some way to get beyond the images and sense of helplessness. The worst part of it is that it’s all brought on by the very thing that I love.”

“I still think the only way to beat it is to pick up a brush and paint it out of your system—one stroke at a time.”

Her stomach knotted.

“And you will when you’re ready. There’s plenty to keep us busy until then. Tell me a little more about this friend of yours, Allison.”

Desiree propped a pillow under her head and began telling him all about Allison’s current assignment and her connections to Jackson.

“My suggestion is that we get this Jackson guy involved as soon as possible. I want him on that creep Hampton like white on rice.” The night table rattled as his fist connected with it. “He can’t get away with what he did to you.” He turned to look at her. “Had he ever tried anything like that before?”

“No. The most he’s ever done is to ask me out to dinner.”

“Did you go?” he asked, a flash of jealousy sparking in his dark eyes.

“Of course not,” she snapped. “I had no intention of mixing business with pleasure.”

“Well, it’s pretty apparent that he can’t take no for an answer.”

“Let’s not talk about Carl anymore tonight,” she said, watching the muscles tense beneath the taut brown flesh of Lincoln’s face. She instinctively sensed that he was getting himself worked up again.

She patted his arm. “Thank you,” she said in a soft whisper.

He raised his head and looked at her. Cautiously he extended his finger and traced her jawline. A delicious shiver ran along Desiree’s spine and her eyelids momentarily fluttered.

“Don’t you know by now that I would do anything in this world for you? I tried to believe that yes, I once loved you, and that there was still a soft spot in my heart for you and nothing more. When I saw you again I knew it was a lie. I love you as much now as I did then. It hasn’t changed. And I’m here for you, Desiree. You don’t have to deal with any of this by yourself.”

She cupped his face in her hands and rose up on her knees. In the moment that her lips met his, all the loneliness, the fear and the sorrow vanished. The years apart were gone when he pressed a bit harder and wrapped his arms around her and she could feel his heart pound against her breasts.

Tentatively he teased her lip with the tip of his tongue until her mouth slowly opened in welcome.

The sweetness of her mouth worked like an aphrodisiac and raced straight to his head before setting off sparks in his limbs.

Desiree sighed into his mouth while his tongue teased and explored, reacquainting himself with her taste and textures. Her nimble painter’s fingers massaged and caressed his broad back as she visualized those hard muscles and the three-inch scar he’d gotten as a child when he fell out of a tree.

His hands found her waist and his thumbs toyed with the elastic band of her sweatpants, teasing her skin until it began to warm beneath his fingertips. Bold now, he slid his hands under her T-shirt and across her back.

Lincoln’s fingers felt like hot coals, Desiree thought, and desperately wanted their heat to ignite the rest of her body.

She eased back, breaking the seal of their kiss. She traced his lips with her fingers and relished in seeing the passion dance in his gaze. The way he looked at her with such hunger raised the peaks of her nipples to hardened pebbles simply by imagining what he could do if he put his mouth…right there.

She lifted her T-shirt over her head and guided his hands to the front clasp of her bra.

Lincoln’s breathing rose at the sight of her. Her breasts were still exquisite, round and slightly firm, with perfect nipples that begged to be taken into his mouth. He teased them first with the pads of his thumbs while he massaged and played with the weight of her breasts in his hands.

Her soft sigh and the instinctive movement of her body only heightened Lincoln’s desire for her. He took one nipple into his mouth and ran his tongue across it slow and teasing as if it were a piece of delectable chocolate.

Desiree shuddered—her moan heavy and filled with longing. But Lincoln took his time. It had been five years since he’d made love to this woman of his dreams and he had no intention of running to the finish line now.

Desiree worked the buttons of his shirt until his bare chest was exposed. She played with the warm skin, her fingers skimming from his neck down to the waist of his pants where she was stopped by the belt and zipper. But without hesitation she unfastened the belt and made quick work of the zipper.

Seconds later she held him in her hand and a rush roared through her body, making her momentarily light-headed. He was just as she remembered—only better, if that was possible. The velvet feel of his skin covering the length and breadth and hardness of him always drove her wild. She began stroking him, creating a hot pocket with her hands, a mere hint of what she would feel like inside.

“Desi,” he groaned and eased her back onto the tumble of overstuffed pillows. “I’ve dreamed about this,” he murmured as he placed kisses along her neck. “More times than I can count.” He kicked out of his pants and tossed them to the floor. “I want to make you remember tonight.” He took a nipple into his mouth and suckled it. Her body arched in response. “And what I’m going to give you every night from now on.”

He stretched her out on the bed and slid off her sweatpants and her red thong panties. She still wore red, he thought with a smile.

The perfect dark triangle between her thighs glistened at the tip, beckoning him to sample the nectar that flowed in readiness.

He knelt above her, heating her flesh with his gaze as his eyes trailed the length of her naked form.

“You’re still so beautiful,” he said barely above a whisper.

She reached up for him, pulling him down to her. With a hunger that frightened her she held him, kissing him with all the desire and longing that had been stamped out by years of neglect. She hadn’t been with another man since the day she left Lincoln’s apartment five years earlier. It was almost as if she’d saved herself for this very moment.

Lincoln moved her arms from around him and began a slow, mind-blowing tour of her body. His mouth did things to her overheated skin that should have been illegal. He played, he teased, he nibbled, he caressed. He toyed with the tender inside of her thighs until she began to whimper and tremble.

Gently he spread her thighs and his penis pumped and throbbed in response to the pink wet wall that dared him to venture inside.

Lincoln lowered his head and let his tongue flick over the hardened swell of her sex. She cried out and gripped a handful of sheet in her fists as her body arched in response. He delighted in her reaction and worked twice as hard to please her.

Desiree tried to contain the surge of pleasure that rolled through her in waves, but she couldn’t as a powerful climax gripped her and wouldn’t let go.

Light and dark danced behind her eyes as the electric jolts jerked her entire body, forcing Lincoln to firmly grip her hips and keep them both from being tossed off the bed.

By degrees her cries quieted to sexy purrs and her unbridled thrashing settled into intermittent shudders.

Lincoln caressed her body, every inch of her skin supple and warm to the touch. He kissed her tenderly at the center of her heat before easing up the length of her body until he could look down into her eyes.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice raw with need.

Slowly Desiree’s eyes fluttered open.

With either hand he lifted her parted thighs and braced them against his forearms and her legs across his back.

“Remember this,” he whispered as he pushed deep inside her in one long stroke.

Desiree opened her mouth but no words could escape to describe the exquisite euphoria that filled every crevice of her being.

Tears wells in her eyes as Lincoln began to move in and out of her, stirring up sensations that were even more powerful than his oral exploration of her. Her legs tightened around him and her fingers pressed into his spine when she recognized that in moments both of them would climax together.

Bright white pinpoints of light burst behind Lincoln’s lids. He felt as if his entire body gave way, his spirit separating from his body to merge with hers. He felt her contracting and releasing around him, bringing on another release that shook him to his core.

She held him like someone gripping a life raft in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean as wave upon wave of pleasure rolled through her.

Damp, hearts racing, and feeling totally satisfied, they lay tangled in each other’s embrace.

Desiree rested her head on Lincoln’s chest, soothed by the rhythmic beating of his heart. Her body hummed the way it could only after being loved the way she had been. She listened without comment to Lincoln’s words of love and hope for the future for them.

But instead of allowing herself to truly usher in the glow of his love, she silently anguished over what had transpired between them and worried about how she would be able to tell him that it could never happen again.

Chapter 31

T
he aroma of home fries, eggs and bacon drifted to Desiree, gently stirring her from sleep.

She stretched her arms above her head, causing the sheet to slip down, revealing her nakedness. The previous night with Lincoln raced back to her mind with blinding speed. Her body tingled in response and then her reality slowly settled in.

Turning on her side, she listened to the sounds of pots, running water and Lincoln’s deep baritone as he sang along with Luther.

It would be so easy to slip into a relationship with Lincoln again, allow herself to fully love him again. But she knew how unfair that would be to him. She knew how much he wanted a family and she couldn’t do that to him. She loved him enough to let him find his happiness with someone who could give him what he wanted.

She looked across the room and found her discarded clothing folded neatly on the chair in the corner. She smiled. Lincoln was always the more organized of the two, a trait that had pleasantly surprised her when they moved in together. He took pride in a neat place and slowly got her into the habit of organizing everything from her clothes and art supplies to her time. It had served her well over the years, especially when she started running her own business.

Lincoln was everything a woman could want: kind, generous, intelligent, a wonderful lover, a savvy businessman and handsome to boot. He’d make some lucky woman a wonderful husband and father to their children.

Her heart ached knowing that the lucky woman could never be her.

She pulled herself out of bed, crossed the room to the dresser and took out a clean set of underwear, then went to the closet and chose a plain white cotton blouse and a pair of jeans.

After a quick shower and getting dressed she entered the kitchen where Lincoln was just putting breakfast on the table.

“Morning,” she said.

Lincoln looked up from what he was doing. A slow smile moved across his mouth. “Morning, baby. Breakfast is just about ready. Didn’t want to wake you.” He came around the table to stand in front of her. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “Did you sleep okay?” He touched her cheek.

“Yes, I did,” she said, realizing just how soundly she’d slept and knowing the reason why. She stepped out of his space and moved toward the table. “You?” she asked over her shoulder.

Lincoln frowned for a moment, taken aback by her suddenly cool behavior, a far cry from the woman who lay beneath him the night before.

“Slept fine.” He tossed the dish towel he was holding onto the Formica counter and watched her as she seemed to intentionally keep her back to him. “You want to tell me what’s going on with you this morning?”

He could always read her, she thought. “Nothing,” she murmured and picked up a glass and filled it with orange juice.

Lincoln counted to ten, determined to keep a lid on his bubbling temper. He knew she was still in a fragile state mentally and emotionally, but her maddening habit of evasiveness drove him to the edge.

“Let’s eat,” he said from between his teeth.

They sat on opposite sides of the table like sparring partners, the only sounds were the clinking of forks against china. Desiree kept her eyes on her food as if it held some vital secret.

Lincoln couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “You want to tell me what’s on your mind? And please don’t insult me by saying nothing.”

Desiree glanced at him for a hot second and looked away. She tried to frame the words she needed to say so that they wouldn’t sound so harsh and cold.

“Last night…”

“What about last night? Are you going to tell me what a big mistake it was?”

She put down her fork and looked directly at him for the first time. “Yes.”

Lincoln blew out a breath of annoyance and clenched his teeth. “Why did I know that’s what you were going to say?” He pushed away from the table with such force that the glasses on the table shook.

He stood and glared down at her. “What is it, Desiree? Why is it so damned hard for you to give anything of yourself except to your work? Is it really about your father or is it just me?”

“What!” Her eyes flashed. “What does my father have to do with anything?”

“I took a trip to see your mother before I came to your apartment.”

She leaped up from her seat in a face-off. Her voice lowered. “You did what?” she asked, enunciating every word.

“I didn’t stutter. I went to see your mom in the hope that she would be able to give me some insight into what makes you tick.” His tone softened, as did his steel expression. “She told me that your father died on your birthday and that it happened right in front of you.” He saw her lips tremble as she fought not to cry. “She said you lived for your father and when he died, so did a part of you right along with him.”

Desiree tugged in air through her nose and blinked rapidly. The pain and the feeling of immense loss and abandonment were as raw and fresh at that moment as they had been all those many years ago. She adored her daddy, worshipped the ground he walked on and basked in his love and praise of her.

She could still see so clearly her father’s big smile and feel his strong arms as he’d lift her into the air and swing her around. Sometimes she could still hear the sound of his voice when he’d read to her at night and tell her that she was his special little girl.

And then one day he was gone, gone into a dark, deep hole, the same hole that had been carved out in her heart. She was crying openly now as the memories of that summer morning ran through her mind…

She’d been getting dressed, preparing for her big birthday party. She was so excited. Her father had arranged for a clown and a pony. All of her neighborhood friends and her friends from school were coming and she couldn’t wait for the festivities to start.

“Let me tie your ribbons,” her mother had said as she fastened the back buttons on Desiree’s party dress.

Desiree turned from the mirror. “Can Daddy do it?” she asked. “Please? I want him to see how pretty I look.”

Her mother gave her an indulgent smile. “All right but hurry up. Your guests will be here soon.”

Desiree darted out of her bedroom and out into the backyard where her father was putting the finishing touches on the tent.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she called out as she ran across the freshly cut grass, her long ponytails flying behind her.

He turned and a smile of pure delight bloomed across his wide mouth. But just as he started to speak a stricken, panicked look froze his features. He clutched his chest and seemed to gasp for air before he went to the ground like a fallen oak tree.

Desiree stopped running and stood rooted to the spot. A fear like nothing she’d ever felt before gripped her heart and she went completely cold.

“Daddy,” she said. “Daddy, get up.” Hesitantly and then with urgency she ran to where her father lay facedown in the grass and dirt. She shook his shoulder. “Daddy, Daddy.” Her stomach rolled over and over. “Please wake up,” she whimpered. He didn’t move.

She sat as still as stone, unable to move. Slowly she lowered her head and rested it on his back. She wrapped her arms around him as the skies suddenly opened and the rain came down.

* * *

Lincoln held her as she released the years of hurt, the loss and loneliness.

“Your father always wanted the best for you, baby. He wouldn’t have wanted you to go through life being afraid of loving. He taught you how to love, and what it was. He couldn’t have wanted you never to share what he’d shared with you.”

“I’ve been so afraid, Lincoln. Afraid of losing what I love again.” She looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. “I believed that if I left you before you left me I would be safe.” That much was true, she thought, leaving out her doctor’s diagnosis of infertility. “So I put all of my emotions into my work and I lost that, too.”

“You haven’t lost. You’ve been sideswiped. Obstacles have been set up in front of you. But I know it’s in you to go around them—find a way.” He took a breath and tried to find the right words that would hit a chord and break through. “Desi, listen, if you were as incapable, as vulnerable as you would like me to believe, there is no way that you could have come as far as you have.

“We all carry scars and wounds from our pasts. It’s all part of life. But we have choices. We can either choose to succumb to the injustices or we can choose to win and overcome them. But often we can’t do it alone. You’ve spent your life locked up inside yourself, afraid to reach out for help or support. Every weight is always lighter if we share it.” He lifted her chin with the tip of his index finger, compelling her to look at him. “Let me share the weight, Desiree. If you truly give us a chance, there’s nothing that we can’t overcome together. But you have to want it as much as I do.”

“What if I lose you, too? What if you…found out that I couldn’t make you happy?”

“How could you ever think that? All I want is you.” He searched her eyes, looking for the answers that were missing in her words.

She moved away from him and crossed the room, putting as much distance as possible between them. She kept her gaze pinned to the floor when she finally spoke.

“I’m not the woman you think I am.”

His chuckle was stilted. “What does that mean?”

She swallowed hard and dug deep for the courage to find the words that had haunted her for the past five years.

“After…I…we lost the baby…when I went back to the doctor for my six-week checkup, she told me that there’d been some damage and that the chances were very slim that I could…” She folded her arms and leaned her hip against the counter as much for support as bravado.

“That you could what?” The answer was in her eyes, the way she held on to her body, but she needed to say the words and let them go.

“That I could ever have any more children.” She glanced at him for an instant and looked away, afraid of what she might see in his eyes.

A deafening silence filled the kitchen.

“I should have known. Why didn’t you tell me, why did you think you had to lie to me and tell me that everything was fine?” he asked gently.

“I didn’t want you feeling sorry for me or staying with me because you felt obligated. I wasn’t…I’m not a real woman anymore,” she tossed out, suddenly defensive.

“If you can still say that, then you haven’t understood anything I’ve been telling you, woman. I love you. Do you understand that? Do you understand what it means? It’s not just a word or a feeling, it’s a commitment.” He cut short the space that separated them until he was close enough to feel the heat rise from her body. “That means through good and bad times, sickness or health, broke or rich. I could never think differently about you.”

Her voice cracked when she spoke. “I’m not a real woman anymore.”

“Baby.” He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that. It takes more than having babies to be a woman.”

“That’s not what my family thinks, what society thinks. I’ll never be able to tell my family.”

He stepped back and held her at arm’s length. “Is that what’s at the heart of it—what your family will think of you?” he asked, not wanting to believe it.

“They all have children. They live to populate the world. Motherhood is a rite of passage for the Armstrong women.”

“Your life is not about ‘them.’ It’s about you and how you feel about yourself.”

She pulled away. “That’s easy for you to say. It’s not happening to you. It’s not you that relatives will discuss over the dinner table or look at with pity in their eyes at family gatherings. It’s me!”

“Desi, since you’re so worried about what everyone thinks, do you want to know what I think? Do you care?”

She looked at him defiantly. “No.”

“I’m going to tell you anyway. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Don’t lie to me, Lincoln, just to make me feel better. I know how much you wanted children.”

“Not as much as I want you. If we can’t have children, that’s something I can live with. But I don’t want to live out the rest of my life without you in it.”

“What if years from now you regret your decision?” she asked in a tentative voice.

“The only thing I would regret is letting you go and allowing you to believe that you’re not all the woman I could ever want.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Every word.” He waited a moment. “Do you love me, Desiree, really love me?”

Her heart pounded. She knew what he was asking. He was asking for a commitment. Could she honestly give it to him? Could she beat back the demons that plagued her and open herself up to this man without hesitation?

“Yes,” she finally said and it was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her soul.

She felt light, almost giddy. A smile of joyful acceptance brightened her eyes and practically lit up the room.

“Yes, yes, I love you.” She ran into his arms, giving in totally to the feel of him, allowing his strength to become hers.

Their kiss was gentle, yet filled with longing and hope for their future.

“I’m always here for you,” Lincoln whispered against her pliant mouth. “You’ll never be alone again. I promise you.”