Her stomach warmed, spreading into her inner thighs.
“I no longer know what to do,” she pushed through quivering lips.
“Trust me,” he commanded. “Just trust.”
Trust wasn’t easy for a woman who’d been hurt. He’d never intentionally hurt her, never, but he’d never fought for their relationship. He’d seen the train wreck coming, just as she had, and he’d chosen to ignore the coming issues. At some point, he’d put everything before her, before their daughter. Yet, even now, she cared for him. Loved him. Egan had been the only man who’d ever stolen her heart.
Wanting to erase Langley’s touch from her, she went into a primal need, pushing up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to Egan’s. That was what a kiss should feel like. Explosions detonated inside her, blowing away doubt.
There wasn’t an easy fix for them.
Hell, there wasn’t even a happily ever after…but a happily for now possibly.
Nothing felt right but to allow human nature to run its course—seduction to enfold them in its hypnotic clutch. This man—this sexy, wonderful man—filled her every void with a dose of liquid heaven. Till now she’d been starving for something she once had. She’d mired herself in work and parental responsibility, believing she could forget, and she had temporarily, but now reality was a force to be reckoned with. Her core craved Egan and she could no longer hide those feelings. She’d been walking around missing a big part of herself, an important piece to her life puzzle. Being near him she could breathe fully again.
With a low, husky growl, he angled his head and plunged his tongue deeper, easily and with so much care. He set a slow pace, no hurry or rush, although she could physically feel the restraint in his muscles. When they were married, they’d fought, sometimes too harshly, but then they’d make up by having fast and heated sex that erased the damage. There was a strong, undeniable emotion between them, an exchange of unspoken words. Two people who never stopped loving one another were united.
Novah liked that he was familiar to her, and although they were different, always had been, he didn’t need to learn her because he already knew what made her tick. He knew her, all of her, better than anyone. The feeling was like walking into a place you knew was home and feeling that feeling of peace and tranquility. While some of the décor had changed, the bones of the place remained the same. His taste was the same. His touch was the same, and she wasn’t immune.
Smoothing her hands down the hard lines of his shoulders, his pecs, she followed the natural line to his washboard stomach. She could feel the old wounds and scars of his time in the military. She wished she could erase those memories from him, help him sleep better and forget. Hold him tight. This scratched off the scab of her own wounds, all the times she’d worried that she’d never see him again—never feel him again. In all the doubt and insecurity, she’d been weak so she had let him go. The fear had been too much and she’d thought it would go away when she walked away, but it had become a constant siren blaring in her head. How could she have been so weak when he was the strongest man she knew. Shame filled her. She should have been stronger.
He withdrew from her slightly, staring down at her with a frenzied gaze. “I have a few new scars.”
She paused her fingers over one of those, a three-inch white scar along the chiseled plane of his side. “You’ve survived so much.”
“I’m a survivor,” he whispered next to her ear. He kissed her jaw, her neck, and along the curve between her neck and shoulder. He led her to the bed, not much bigger than a twin but it looked cozy, and he sat down, then pulled her onto his lap so that her thighs were spread over his hips. The separation of clothes didn’t hide the fact that he was excited. “And so are you, sweetheart.”
“You were right about Peter.” She lowered her eyes for a second and he touched his finger to her chin. “I feel like such a fool.”
“Why should you feel like the fool? He’s the one who should be ashamed of his actions.” His eyes softened and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Would you like for me to punch him in the throat?”
“And lose your job? No.” Her answer came out soft and small.
“It’d be worth it.” One brow came up over wide eyes.
“I can’t possibly work for him any longer. I don’t know how I could ever respect him again.”
“I understand.” Such a profound amount of emotion swam in his eyes. “There will be other jobs. Maybe you can go back to teaching. I remember how much you enjoyed working with the kids.”
“Who does he think he is?” Tears filled her eyes. “Just because I work for him doesn’t give him the right to treat me like a sex doll.”
He picked up a strand of her hair and wound it around his finger. “Did you punch him?”
“I did hurt him.” She smiled. There went another wall, dropping under his sincerity.
His erection pressed against her bottom, but he remained calm and steady, comforting her like nothing had ever changed between them. He’d always been her strength when she felt like the world was collapsing around her. He’d held her when her shoulders slumped under pressure and he’d forgiven her when she’d screamed
