In Love and Rescue: When love is the perfect rescue... (13 page)

BOOK: In Love and Rescue: When love is the perfect rescue...
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Larke raised a curious
brow. “You know, I was thinking the same thing. Because you kept mentioning beautiful and intelligent.”


Is that right?” He asked with a laugh. “But, you’re not wrong. You are that. Come to think of it, your eyes remind me of this group of minerals called axinite. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of them, but I came across them once when I was in South Africa. When axinite is processed, it turns into this brilliant, rich, honey-brown stone. Almost like an earth jewel. Whenever I look at you, into your eyes, I think of that.”

Her blush made him want to reach
over and pull her onto his lap.

“I’m not sure,” she began, “but I think you’
re flirting with me, Des. First, what you said on Doug’s boat and now this.”

He shrugged. “I might be. I can’t help it. Either that
, or I’ve become something of a lightweight and these few sips of wine have already gone straight to my head.”

When she giggled, he realized that she was already there.
As usual, as much as she loved her wine, Larke couldn’t hold her liquor even if it was made of metal and she was wearing a magnetic glove.

“Am I makin
g you uncomfortable?” He asked.

“Not at all,” she immediately came back. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve even had the chance to be arou
nd a man that I kinda like it.”

He prepared himself for the answer to his next question. “So give me your story. When was the last time that you dated?”

She touched a finger to her chin. “Several years ago, now.”

“What was
his name?”

“Lucas Grant.”

Even preparation couldn’t have softened that blow. Lucas Grant was the name of the man that she’d dated two years before they met.

“Were you in love?” He asked
for reasons unbeknownst to him.

“I don
’t know,” she replied with a small shrug. “I don’t think so. But, and here’s another one of those strange things, I
feel
like I’ve been in love.”

At his confused expression, she added, “I think all this stress is
starting to mess with my memory because I’m feeling without remembering. A euphoric type of feeling. Virginia Beach. There’s this guy. We’re holding hands and walking on the beach and I feel like he means the world to me. Literally, at that moment, he occupies every single thought I have in my head. Then, a strange thing happens. When I finally get to his face, oddly enough, he looks a lot like you.”

Then, realizing what she’d just revealed, she frantically shook her head
. “But, I’m not implying that I’m in love with you or anything.”

Desmond felt like he wanted to explode. He’d heard of instances where people with head trauma lost
specific memories—places, people, events—but Larke was the first time he’d actually seen it occur naturally. The more she spoke, the more he realized that the only memory she seemed to have lost was the one where she’d met him. It also didn’t help that he’d made it easy for her to forget him since over the course of two years, he’d never introduced her to Doug or brought her down to the agency out of fear that someone would tell her the truth about him. Yet, she could still remember Virginia Beach. The event was still there, but without her having any recollection of him being someone important in her life, she’d never be able to make the connection.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, when she realized that he’d been silent for a while. “I probably just made things unnecessarily awkward.”

“You didn’t,” he reassured. “I was the one who started it anyhow, talking about your eyes and your face and your freckles. And your long, long lashes. Your smile. Your perfect mouth.”

He
beckoned her with his finger.

“Come over here.”

She drained her glass, set it on the tabletop, and then walked around the table to brazenly straddle his lap. His hands instinctively wrapped around her waist, never forgetting how to hold her even though it had been over a year since they last had a chance. Four hundred and one days to be exact.


Are you relaxed yet?” He asked, stroking her waist with his thumbs. Out of all the clothes he’d stocked that he already knew could fit her, she’d decided to slip into one of his shirts.

“I’m get
ting there,” she answered. Leaning forward, she surprised him by pressing her lips against his.

Although he wasn’t quite sure what to expect, the last thing he’d seen coming was for
Memory-loss Larke to be anything like Wife Larke. Wife Larke had been bold. Extremely bold. So bold that it hadn’t been unusual for him to get home and find her waiting for him in bed, completely naked. It was actually more commonplace for him to be at full erection before six o’clock in the evening because of what he’d come home to and seen at five fifty-nine.

Sh
e leaned back and brought his hands to her thighs. Although his head was trying to tell him that making love to a woman that still was legally his wife but couldn’t remember him was a bad idea, his groin was slowly taking control.

“Do you think that you might be on top of me right now because of that?” He pointed to the now empty wine bottle.

She pulled the shirt over her head to reveal delicious nakedness underneath. “Does it matter?”

It sure as hell didn’t.

He started to his feet, but she shook her head and asked, “When’s the next chance we’ll have to make love on the patio of a beautiful villa on this gorgeous island?”

H
e wanted to tell her anytime she pleased since they could always come back, but the lurch in his groin told his brain to stand down.

Reclaiming his seat, he
ran his hands over her smooth, buttery flesh and took a moment to fill his eyes with what his leaving had caused him to miss out on. Then, he pulled her back towards him, crushed their lips together, and traced the sweet lines of her mouth with his tongue, reveling in the taste that he’d thought about nearly every day for the past year.

Dipping his head, he
trailed kisses along her neck and chest, stopping right above the pert, delicious mounds that eagerly awaited his caress.

He teasingly flicked his tongue over a pearly bud and she arched, just like he knew she would. He then used the tip of his tongue to swirl the
tawny brown spheres that adorned her nipples before flicking again, his erection throbbing each time she released a throaty moan into the air. Finally, he took the lobe into his mouth while his fingers teased the other hardened bud, and she cried out as he licked, tasted, and suckled.

Moving
his touch to the burgeoning warmth between her legs, he found the wet nub that held the means for her release and gently stroked the smooth surface until her cries grew frenzied.

She rocked against him.

He increased his pace.

Her hips swayed to match the rhythm
, and her nipples peaked against his tongue indicating that she was nearing orgasm. He continued to play, taking her as close as he could to the summit of ecstasy. Then, he stopped.

“What’s wrong?”
She asked, gasping with eyes so glazed with desire that he nearly came undone right there.

“We can’t.”

He wasn’t sure if he’d actually said the words until her desire was replaced with confusion.

“It wouldn’t be right,” he added. “Remember what you said at the wooden house? About me taking advantage of you?”

She silently looked at him for a few seconds before releasing the grip that she’d locked onto his biceps. Then, she slipped her hands between their bodies and over the front of his pants. She found his thickness, squeezed him erotically, and his erection pulsed in response. Knowingly pulsed, never having forgotten Larke’s touch.

Still silent, she maneuvered her hand until he felt the heat of her palm against his
bare, sensitive and aroused skin. She ran her thumb over the thick head of his length and Desmond realized that he was fighting a losing battle. He wanted her. Needed her. Regardless of what she felt for him at that very moment, he still loved her. Was in love with her. No matter how much distance he would try to put between them, how much he hoped that she would move on, there would never be anyone else for him. She’d possessed him.

His eyes closed
and she continued to stroke him mischievously, expertly. She leaned forward to capture his lips a second time and their mouths moved wildly together. Hot tongues thrashed, throaty moans echoed into the night, and he drank her essence as though starved while she matched his fervor, kissing him with raw passion both unknown and familiar.

Securing her legs around his waist, he stood and ignored her protests to make love outside on the porch.
Next time. He’d make sure that there would be a next time.

Tongues still entangled, he carried her
upstairs and laid her on the bed. The wind was nearly knocked out of him when she locked her eyes with his and motioned for him to climb in with her, something that she always did whenever they made love. He shook his head, gently pushed her legs apart, and brought his lips down to her feminine core. Already close to climax, the minute his tongue brushed over her wet nub, she erupted into a white-hot fit of ecstasy.

His name echoed off
the walls and her hips bucked in response. When she finished her descent, he kissed her folds and took a step back to revel in the masterpiece that was her orgasm: flushed skin, quivering thighs, and slits for eyelids.

“What are you doing?” She asked, her eyes darting between his
face and his hardened member.

“I’m thinking,” he partially lied. It was hard to think when one head had so much more control over the other at that moment.

“Then stop,” she ordered. “I want you.”

A pulse traveled down his length.

“Inside me, Desmond. I want you.”

She’d taken him to the point of no return.

Tugging open the drawer at the bedside, he pulled out a condom. That was another irony. Using a condom with his wife.

While he tore open the packaging, she leaned forward and flicked her tongue against the throbbing tip of his erection
, almost pulling him to climax.

Sheathing
his erection, he poised over her body, captured her lips as though he couldn’t spend more than a few seconds without them, and then slowly entered her warm, wet, familiar haven.

She gasped, wrapped her legs around him, and the barrier of latex didn’t matter as ribbons of pleasure traveled down his length. At that moment, Jarvis, Gano, and the entire situation no longer existed. It was just him and Larke, their groans and cries of pleasure against the quiet night, and the love that he still felt for her. The love that he knew he’
d always feel for her. The one that leaving would never change.

He didn’t know what he’d been
thinking beforehand, but he could never hurt this woman. Would never hurt this woman. This incident was his second chance to be exactly what she’d needed and deserved. He was never going to let her go again and if Eddie Jarvis, Delgano Richards, or anyone else had a problem with that, he took no issue with taking them out with his bare hands.

Sweat dripped from his body onto her sleek silhouette, and she erupted a second time as rivulets of ecstasy spurted from his body into her silken core.

As the waves of pleasure blissfully ebbed, she looked up at him, smiled, and he returned the gesture before placing kisses on each of her lovely eyelids. Then, pulling the covers over their bodies, she molded into his side and he held her there until she fell asleep. Kissing her again, he apologized for ever leaving her alone and promised her that from that point on, he would give her anything and everything her heart desired—as long as she left some space in it for him to fit into.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

Larke sprang awake and frantically searched the room for the two men she expected to find there. Instead, all she saw were the slits of sunlight peeking between the wooden blinds, and heard the sound of Desmond’s even breathing in the bed next to her. She calmed as she watched his masculine chest rise and fall, remembering the night before and the way he’d navigated her body as if he’d had an insider’s guide on the path to her pleasure. He’d been so attentive and giving that she was beginning to want him again, and wished that she could slowly slip his beautiful, creamy chocolate skin through a straw.

Aside from th
e godlike profile he possessed, as well as his unforgettable smile and laugh, she was slowly falling for his strength. It also amazed her how he always seemed to be the calmest person in the room, and how his determination and focus were reminiscent of traits that both she and her father possessed. To think that all of that was neatly wrapped up in such an attractive package…

She laid back on the pillow and spooned into his body. Instinctively, he pulled her closer and pressed a
tender kiss into her hair, melting her. In such a short time, she’d come to feel a sense of safety like never before because of him. All he had to do was be near enough for her to feel the heat emanating from his body, and smell his raw, enticing, male scent.

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