Love After War (12 page)

After a quick stop at the grocery store, Dana and Adrian arrived at his penthouse ravenous and ready to cook. Well, in Dana's case, watch Adrian work his magic with the eggs. She wasn't going to lift a finger to cook. As Adrian unloaded the groceries and Dana made herself comfortable on a bar stool in the kitchen, he wished this was an everyday occurrence, coming home and looking into her smiling face. Sure, they wouldn't eat omelets every day, but he would spend many days and nights doing whatever made her smile.

“What?” she asked when she caught his gaze.

“Nothing.” He set the eggs on the counter and leaned into Dana. “How in love with New York are you?”

“That came out of nowhere.” She grinned. “New York is a part of me—now. Why?”

“Because I want you to come back to me, back to LA.”

Dana sucked in a deep breath. “Don't you think it's a little early for that?”

“I made the mistake of letting you go before, and I'm not going to let that happen again.”

“Who says I'm ready to take that chance with you again?” Honestly, Dana wasn't sure how much she was willing to give up for love this time. “Why can't you move to New York?”

He gritted his teeth. Moving to New York would mean being in the place that caused his mother nothing but pain. He'd be within striking distance of his father and he wasn't sure that he could be that close to Elliot Crawford and not want to kill him.

“New York has never been one of my favorite places.”

“And I hate LA. The traffic, the smog, and the air kisses. Ugh. Most of the people out here are plastic. New Yorkers are real.”

Adrian reached for a mixing bowl from above the refrigerator. “Then I guess we're going to have to find some sort of midway point, huh? Chicago?”

“Are you serious?” she asked as he cracked the eggs in the bowl.

Adrian nodded and whisked the eggs. “These last two years without you have been hell and I don't want to lose another day.”

“Then why?” she asked, her voice low and dripping with leftover hurt. “Why did you push me away when all I wanted was to be there for you? I know how much your mother meant to you. I was fond of her as well. You robbed me of my chance to grieve her too.”

Adrian placed the bowl on the counter and crossed over to Dana. “I'm . . . Sorry isn't enough,” he said as he drew her into his arms. Part of him knew he should come clean. He should tell her about his father, the secret his mother told him on her death bed. But still, he didn't want her involved in the ugliness that was about to envelope his life. “Dana.”

“Don't ‘Dana' me. I really feel like you're holding something back,” she said.

“Why do you say that?”
Tell her the truth,
his conscience called out.

“I know you.”

“Dana.” He stroked her cheek and smiled. “There's nothing I need to confess other than I love you.”

She eyed him suspiciously. Adrian kissed her softly, gently sucking on her bottom lip because he recognized that look she'd given him. “Let me start cooking,” he said when he released her.

Dana wasn't convinced by his act. He was hiding something. While he cooked, Dana decided to make some mimosas. “I know you have some champagne in here.” She crossed over to the refrigerator and fished out a bottle of Perrier-Jouët. She held the bottle up as Adrian sprinkled a handful of cheese over the eggs. “I see you still keep the good stuff.”

“Yes, and you're the only one who I want to share this with,” he said as she popped the cork. Dana shook her head at him.

“Laying it on a little thick, huh?” she asked as she crossed over to the cabinet and grabbed two champagne flutes.

Adrian flipped the eggs and added more cheese; then he turned the heat down and walked over to the edge of the bar where Dana stood, pouring orange juice into the glasses. He took the juice from her hands, pushed the glasses, juice, and champagne to the other end of the bar. “Let me show you how I lay it on thick.” Adrian lifted Dana up onto the edge of the bar, then kissed her with a hot and smoldering desire that shook her to the core. When he untied the halter of her jumpsuit, Dana moaned in anticipation. Adrian massaged her breasts until her nipples were diamond hard. Just when he was about to take one of them into his mouth, the buzzing of his smoke alarm put the brakes on. “Shit,” he muttered, realizing that he'd dropped a pot holder on the eye of the stove. He put out the small fire as Dana laughed hysterically.

“What were you thinking about?” she asked as she hopped off the counter.

Adrian tilted his head, focusing a stare on her bare breasts. “If you have to ask . . .”

Dana pretended to be scandalized and covered her chest with her arm. “Well, sir, I can't believe you're lusting after my body when I'm starving.”

Adrian glanced at the omelets in the pan. Satisfied that they would be good, he plated them and asked, “So, how do you plan to earn your supper, ma'am?”

Dana shrugged out of her jumpsuit and placed her hands on her hips. “I guess we can work something out.”

Adrian dropped the plates on the bar. “Hot damn,” he exclaimed.

Dana sauntered over to him and took a plate off the counter. “Not until I eat,” she said. “You're welcome to watch.”

Adrian picked up his plate and the mimosas, then followed a naked Dana into the living room. He'd missed times like this. Missed watching the sway of her hips in front of him on quiet evenings at home. How many more moments like this would they have together?

“Let's toast,” he said when he joined her on the sofa.

Dana took the glass he'd offered and smiled at him. “What are we toasting to?”

“Second chances.”

Dana clanked her glass against his. “I'll drink to that.”

Adrian watched as she sipped from the glass. Her lips were so enticing and he really didn't want to eat the omelet that he'd cooked. He had a taste for Dana. She set her glass on the coffee table and planted herself on Adrian's lap. “I'm suddenly not very hungry,” she whispered as she thrust her hips forward.

“I could eat . . . something.” He lifted her until he was facing her feminine mound of desire. Slowly, he kissed her thigh, licking her as if she were an ice cream cone as she spread her legs. She was so wet and ready for his mouth. Adrian felt her quiver as he brought her closer to his lips. His tongue split her wet slit and she moaned in delight.

Her passionate cries made him go deeper, suck harder until his erection ached, seemingly jealous of his tongue. He peeled his mouth away from her, ready to feel her warmth, needing to be inside her.

“I need you,” he intoned as he unzipped his pants.

“You got me,” she replied as she eased down his body to assist in removing his pants and boxers. Dana smiled at the sight of his erection, then stroked it gently.

“You're all I've ever needed,” he whispered, his head thrown back in pleasure as her mouth replaced the stroke of her hand. The heat of her breath, the wetness of her mouth, and the lick of her tongue made Adrian's knees quake and bring him to the brink of an orgasm.

He placed his hand underneath her chin, silently telling her to stop. “Damn, baby,” he moaned, then gripped her hips.

Dana licked her lips and smiled at him before planting herself on his lap. Adrian stroked her face before pulling her in for a kiss. Their tongues danced together as she spread her thighs. Without a thought of protection, he entered her valley, thrusting his hips against hers as she rode him. He grabbed her breasts, massaging them before sucking her erect nipples. She tightened her thighs around him, crying out as ripples of delight flowed through her body. Dana and Adrian locked eyes as she felt the waves of an orgasm wash over her. Adrian leaned her against the sofa cushions, diving deeper and intensifying her second orgasm.

The blissful look on her face took Adrian over the edge. As much as he wanted to, needed to, he couldn't pull out before spilling his seed inside her. A moment passed before either of them moved. Adrian glanced at her belly, wondering what kind of father he would be if she happened to get pregnant. Would he be a coward like his biological father and walk away, or would he be like the man who raised him—strong, responsible, and caring?

“What's that look?” she asked.

“We were reckless.”

Dana nodded. “But I'm on the pill. I'm not trying to be a mother anytime soon and I'm sure you're not trying to give up your LA lifestyle for fatherhood.”

“But I would.”

Dana raised her eyebrow as if she didn't believe him. She had no cause to, especially since he never wanted kids when they were together. What had changed? she wondered as she caught him looking at her stomach again.

“Relax, Adrian,” she said. “I'm STD free and—at this moment—not pregnant. Should I be worried about you?”

“No,” he said. “Listen, I'm just . . . We've never been careless like this and I don't want—”

She placed her finger to his lips. “Can we cross that bridge if the time comes? Are you sure you don't have something you need to tell me?”

Adrian kissed her finger, smiling at her warmly. He had a lot he had to tell her. He had many things to say to her; he owed her the truth about his father and how he wanted to bring his family to their knees. But instead of answering her, he simply gave her a deep kiss.

“Adrian,” she said when their lips parted.

“Umm . . .”

“The omelets are cold and I'm still hungry.”

Smiling, he lifted off her and said, “Let's get dressed and go to Roscoe's. I don't think I can pull that off a second time.” Adrian nodded to the oddly shaped omelets. “And”—he ran his index finger down her thigh—“I'm too distracted to cook.”

“Well, Roscoe's it is,” she said, then looked at the clock above the TV. “Damn. I can't. I have an early morning and my body still thinks it's on the East Coast.”

“Thank God it isn't,” Adrian ribbed. “I guess it's room service, then.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don't care where we sleep as long as we do it together,” he said as he reached for his pants.

Dana started to say something sarcastic, but she wanted to wake up in Adrian's arms and feel the warmth of his breath against her neck as they slept. So she just smiled. “Let's get dressed and go, then.”

About thirty minutes later, they were headed to Dana's hotel. As he drove, Adrian glanced at her, wondering again if he should tell her the truth. Was he afraid that Dana would talk him out of his anger or was he afraid that she'd be angry with him?

When Dana caught one of his awkward looks, she shook her head. “I'm going to ask you for the last time, what's wrong?”

“Nothing. I can't look at you?”

“I guess,” she quipped, then fingered her thick hair. “I hope you don't mind if I edit some pictures before bed. I want to stay ahead of my deadline.”

“Not at all.” But Adrian didn't want to see pictures of Ian Kelly and his ilk. The pictures he wanted to see would be plastered all over the papers tomorrow—protest at the Crawford construction site, Solomon getting smacked by Heather, and possibly Richmond's mug shot. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and forced himself to concentrate on the road and push the thoughts of his
family
out of his mind. He could hear Dana talking about the Crawfords, but he refused to allow the words to seep into his brain.

“I'm sorry,” she said when she noticed the look on his face. “I'm going on and on about work and that scene in your club and you zoned out.”

“It's okay.”

“I get the feeling that you're not fond of the Crawfords. Did your business with them not work out?”

“No.” He wished she'd stop talking about those people. The more he answered her questions, the more he felt as if he were lying to her. He wanted to keep her away from his war. But how could he?

“I'm sorry to hear that,” she said.

“Don't be. Shit happens.”

“I guess you're right. I can't wait for this to be over. Maybe I'll take a vacation in Los Angeles.”

Adrian smiled broadly, genuinely. “That sounds like a good plan. I know where we can go to avoid the smog you hate so much.”

Dana smiled and stroked his arm. “I thought you'd like that. Then maybe you can come to New York and hang out in my territory for a while.”

He gritted his teeth. “I don't understand why you love that dirty—”

“Hey!”

“You've been in LA long enough to know that this trumps New York.”

Dana sucked her teeth. “It's all right.”

Adrian exited off the highway and headed toward the hotel. “Be honest.”

“Los Angeles hasn't always been good to me and you know that. You haven't even seen New York. Nor do you know the greatness of a hot dog from a street vendor.”

Part of him wanted to pour his heart out to her as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. He wanted to tell her that his mother loved and lost so much to that city, and if he had his way, he'd never set foot there. But then he'd have to tell her the rest of the story. The way Elliot Crawford broke his mother's heart and banished them thousands of miles away.

“I have the best part of New York right here,” he said, then stroked her knee.

“As much as I want to bask in the compliment, there's more to New York than me.” She grinned.

“Not in my book.” Adrian climbed out of the car and crossed over to the passenger side to open Dana's door. He took her hand in his and kissed it gently. “You know, I love you more than you know.”