Found Wanting (45 page)

"What did you mean by that?" he asked.

She saw in his eyes a feral determination to tear apart anything or anyone who stood in his way, and she couldn't help it. He scared the living crap out of her. "Nothing," she said. "I misspoke."

"No, you didn't. Have you had contact with her?"

"Of course not."

"I know when you're lying, Addison. You suck at it, just like she does. Now tell me what's going on."

She swallowed against the fear constricting her lungs. "I'm not going to tell you anything."

He bracketed her throat with one hand. "Yes, you are."

Chapter 34

Alaina's body hummed with satisfaction, every nerve alive and screaming. She was conscious of her heart thumping in time with Mitch's as she lay sprawled on top of him, their bodies slick with perspiration.

"You alive?" he asked.

She smiled, her damp cheek pressed to his sweat-slick shoulder. "Barely."

"Me either." His palms brushed over her back, ever in motion, as if he couldn't stop touching her, caressing her. "Will you talk to me now?"

Raising her head, she gazed down into his fathomless, dark brown eyes. She couldn't believe he had happened to her. In a matter of days. It didn't make sense any way she looked at it. She also couldn't imagine what life would be like without him.

He sifted his fingers through her hair, smoothed damp strands back from her forehead. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

A lump formed in her throat, and she closed her eyes.

"Please don't do that," he murmured.

She looked at him, taken aback by the raw emotion in his gaze. "Yes, I trust you."

"Then tell me why you just made love to me like it was the last time."

"It's nothing." She tried to draw away, but he held on, almost desperately.

"You're pulling away from me, distancing yourself," he said. "Why?"

"I love you." She said it without thinking, then immediately regretted it. What was the point of saying it? In a matter of hours, it wouldn't matter.

He looked stunned, then slowly smiled. "Really?"

She curled her fingers around his wrists, drew his hands from her. "Yes, really. And I don't know what to do about it."

He sat up as she shifted away from him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she reached for the T-shirt he'd pulled off of her an hour ago. She felt less vulnerable with it on, her back to him.

"If there's anything to be done about it," he drawled, "I'd say we just did it."

She glanced at him over her shoulder, noted the satisfaction that curved his lips. She remembered what his mouth, his tongue had done to her body minutes before, and her pulse stammered. For a moment, she couldn't think.

Grinning, Mitch shifted so that he was behind her. He ran his warm hands over her shoulders, down her back, around to the front of the T-shirt and under the hem, then filled them with her breasts. She shuddered, her breath catching. "We can do it again, if you'd like," he whispered near her ear, his teeth catching her earlobe.

She turned into him, fusing her mouth with his, diving her fingers into his hair. He chuckled, his body vibrating against hers, when she pushed him back and straddled him. He rolled her under him and pinned her with his hips. "I get to be on top this time," he growled.

She answered by dragging his head down to her, where she kissed him deeply, her tongue tangling with his.

Did she trust him? Yes. Yes yes yes.

His hands seemed to be everywhere, already knowing what she liked and giving it to her. She reveled in the sensations, committing every caress, every indrawn breath to memory. Because this really would be the last time.

She heard the rip of the telltale foil packet, then he was braced above her. "Open your eyes, Alaina."

She did.

His gaze delved into hers, seeking, seeking ... what?

He sank into her slowly, with a long groan. She took him in, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He felt so good ... he made her feel everything.

When he began to move, she crested almost immediately, and he paused as the shudders rippled through her, his body tense, his muscles seeming to strain against the need to take. "You do that so easily," he said, kissing her eyelids, her nose.

She tried to catch her breath, intensely aware of their link, of how her body throbbed around his. Holding still had to be killing him. "Why don't you join me?"

"It's too soon," he said. "It's only been five minutes."

"Who's got the stopwatch?"

"I'm not a damn teenager. I have far more restraint."

"It's okay. I don't mind."

He answered by lowering his head to take a nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. The tug nearly sent her over again, but then he started moving, slowly, leisurely, building the ache until it blossomed and spread.

She held onto his shoulders, her face buried against his neck. His arms were wrapped tightly around her as he rocked into her, as if he couldn't hold her close enough.

When her body went rigid, her breath sobbing out, her head dropping back, he held her against him, waited for the quake to ease, then began again.

"I can't," she panted. "No more ... I can't ..."

He silenced her, burying his mouth on hers as he eased her back, flattening her hands against the bed and sinking his fingers between hers, linking them.

He began pumping his hips, fast now, grinding, demanding, driving. Colored lights exploded in her head. Rainbows and kaleidoscopes and fireworks. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. When her body began to buck again, he let himself go and joined her.

Afterward, Alaina couldn't lift her arms. She wanted to hug him, hold him. But she couldn't move. He must have felt the same, because he lay limp on top of her, his breathing harsh, sweat trickling down his temple. She marveled at the satisfying weight of him, reveled in the sensation of their still-linked bodies.

Raising his head, he kissed her. "Told you I had more restraint."

"That was restraint?"

He laughed, still breathing hard. "You have no idea."

The idea of living without him physically hurt.

His gaze grew serious, as if he sensed her growing despair. "What is it?"

When she shook her head, he gently withdrew and lay beside her, drawing her against him. "Please tell me. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."

As she lay in his arms, feeling the heat of his body against her, she realized that she couldn't live without him. She wasn't strong enough to walk away, to spare him. She was selfish and in love. Human. She pulled in a breath, let it slowly out. And prayed she wasn't about to sign his death warrant. "Addison is taking Jonah to Pentagon City at six. To meet me."

Sitting up, Mitch glanced at the clock. "We have an hour and a half."

"I was going to ditch you."

He looked at her, his eyes at once hurt, then shadowed. "I see."

"I couldn't stand it if something happens to you because of --" She choked as the memory of Emma dead on the floor filled her head.

He leaned toward her, took her face into his hands and kissed her. When he eased back, the hurt in his gaze had been replaced by an understanding that she couldn't comprehend. "I heard what you told Addison about the kind woman who took you and Jonah in. What happened to her wasn't your fault, Alaina."

She hid her face against his throat as hot tears began to fall. He knew her so well already, knew how she thought. "I exposed her to danger when I let her get close to me," she said. "I never warned her that she was vulnerable."

He held her close, soothing her with a warm hand stroking her bare back. "When you ran away with Jonah, did it ever occur to you that Keller would kill to get him back?"

As his words, spoken in a low voice near her ear, sank in, her racing heartbeat calmed. She remembered being frightened of Layton, of worrying about being forever separated from Jonah, of going to prison. But Mitch was right. Even after Emma had died, Alaina hadn't feared that Layton would try to kill her or anyone she cared about. The man who'd tried to blackmail her hadn't been sent by Layton and had at first seemed to have no intention of harming her. After that, her determination to keep her distance from others had been just as much about protecting herself as protecting them.

Not until Grant Maxwell had been shot and Lucas hurt had the realization struck her that Layton's intentions had turned deadly. So while knowing her had most certainly placed Emma and the Maxwells in peril, she had put them there unwittingly.

She started to cry again, for what knowing her had cost them. And Mitch's arms never left her, nor did his hand ever stop its soothing caress against her back.

Sniffling, she tilted her head back to meet his worried gaze. "I've cried on you more than anyone I've ever known. If it keeps up, you might need to invest in flippers and nose plugs."

Smiling, he pressed his lips to her temple. "You can cry on me anytime."

"Just so you know, I don't make it a habit."

"Maybe you should," he said. "Holding all those feelings inside isn't good for you."

Stroking a hand over his chest, she said, "Emma would have liked you."

"Emma?"

"The woman I told Addison about. She would have approved."

"Thank God."

Sobering, she savored the scrape of stubble on his jaw against her fingertips. "He might go after your son," she said.

"He doesn't know anything about Tyler."

"He'll find out."

"You're not going to frighten me away, Alaina. So give it a rest." With that, he placed a quick, hard kiss on her lips. "Do you want to shower first or shall I?"

* * *

Dressed in jeans, T-shirt and one of Mitch's flannel shirts, Alaina was sitting on the bed, brushing out her wet hair, listening to the shower running in the other room, when Mitch's cellphone rang. Picking it up, she flipped it open. "Hello?"

Silence answered her.

"Hello?" she said again. "Is someone there?"

"Alaina."

She flinched, the brush slipping out of her fingers and landing with a hollow thunk on the floor. She'd know that voice anywhere.

"I know it's you, Alaina. I hear you breathing."

"What do you want?" she asked.

"So Mitch was telling the truth. He really does have you in his possession."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ah, this is rich. You really have no idea, do you?"

"Make your point, Layton."