“If I could, I would. I would die for you.”
My heart jerked at his words. The look on his face was sincere. He would die for me. He would take away my pain if it was possible.
How many other people could say that to me? Would I believe them like I did him?
No.
“Shane, I know.”
He pushed his pants down and stepped out of them, revealing his beautiful body to me, every inch of it. “I won’t let you die alone. I will be there.” He gripped my hair in his fist. “I’ll take every breath with you until you’ve taken your last. I’ll hold you until you’re not afraid anymore.”
“Yes. I believe you.”
“You’ll let me, won’t you?”
“Yes, Shane. Yes.”
He grasped my hips, stepped between my spread legs, and thrust his rod inside me.
Oh, God. It was intense.
Instinctively, I closed my eyes, allowing myself to focus on my other senses.
“I promise,” he said as he slowly pulled out, “I won’t let you be afraid. Not ever. As long as I am alive, I will be at your side. Watching you. Protecting you. Providing for you.”
If I could have, I would have wrapped my arms around him. The words he was saying were melting me. In a very different way than his deep strokes were. His smooth, sure thrusts were stirring the fires burning deep inside me, stoking them, making them burn brighter, hotter. But his words. Those beautiful, heartfelt words, were touching my soul.
As I stood in place, unable to move, he kissed me, claimed my body and my spirit. He possessed me--body, mind and soul.
There was no doubt in my mind. We belonged together. We belonged to each other.
I surrendered.
There was no reason to fight it. I wanted it all, the pain, the pleasure, the sadness and the joy. And for that I received a wonderful reward. I felt his cl**ax deep inside. His rod widened. His thrusts became swift and rough. I tumbled over the crest with him. Our bodies worked as one, his pushing deep into mine, and mine pulling him deeper yet.
I wasn’t afraid anymore.
* * * * *
“You did what?” Jill Staton, my best friend said, her mouth agape, her eyes bulging.
“I told him I love him,” I repeated. We were in public, in our favorite coffee shop. It was a good thing there were a lot of people around.
She had set down her hazelnut macchiato. She’d plunked it down hard. Her lips had thinned. “But you don’t love him. You don’t. You’re just having fun, enjoying his…” She glanced left, right. “…freaky games,” she whispered. “Sooner or later you’ll get tired of it all, and then what? Then you’ll be committed to something you can’t walk away from.”
“I’m already committed,” I confessed over the rim of my cup. I was enjoying my skinny mocha, despite the hostility I was catching from my bestie. I knew she was thinking about my well-being.
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Committed? How? What do you mean by that? Are you…? Please tell me you aren’t marrying him.”
“I’m not engaged to him yet. But I think he’s going to ask—“
“Oh God.” Her face turned the shade of the foam on top of my mug. Now she didn’t look angry or worried. She looked…afraid. “I should’ve stepped in and told you everything sooner.”
Everything? “Told me what?”
“About his wife. The one who died.” She lifted her cup but set it back down without taking a drink. “I know this is none of my business, but I was worried. So I did a little checking. It was his fault, his wife’s death.”
A chill burned up my spine. “How was it his fault? What are you suggesting? That he killed her?”
“Not exactly. Well, sort of indirectly.”
“What does that mean, indirectly?”
“Dammit, I shouldn’t be telling you this. He should.” This time, when she lifted her cup she did take a sip. She stared into it. “Has he ever talked about her?”
“Not really, and I haven’t asked.”
“You should. That’s all I’m going to say.” She took another sip. “Tell him you want to hear the truth. All of it. The rest should come from him. I know you won’t believe it if it doesn’t. He should be telling you this stuff himself. I’ve been keeping quiet about it for a while now. I was willing to wait, to give him the chance. But it’s getting serious between you two now. If he doesn’t want to tell you what happened, then you should break it off. Trust me.”
Little hard lumps were gathering in my throat. I had to chug down half my mocha to clear them out. “You’ve got to be blowing this thing out of proportion.”
“That’s what you say now. We’ll see what you think when you hear everything—if you hear everything. I suspect he’ll gloss over the uglier details.”
What the hell was she trying to tell me? What the hell? I couldn’t help it. I was scared. And that made me feel guilty.
After all, I’d just spent the night with Shane, telling him how much I trusted him. And showing him. In more ways than one. And here I was now, less than twenty-four hours later, questioning that trust already.
But Jill believed I had a good reason to distrust him.
Could I believe her?
She was my best friend. She’d never lied to me about anything. She’d never stepped between me and a boyfriend before either.
But, she also had major trust issues. She’d been abused as a kid. Sometimes I felt she didn’t even trust me.
Then again, never before had she been as outspoken as she’d been with Shane. Lately I had wondered if there was a reason why she had been so opinionated about him, perhaps something she had known but hadn’t told me.
Maybe it was this thing about his wife.
“Promise me you’ll sit down and talk to him about her,” Jill repeated, giving me a please-listen-to-me look. “Don’t let him get away with a vague non-explanation, either. You need to know everything, before you make any drastic changes to your life. You deserve to know what kind of man Shane really is.”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said before emptying the rest of my cup.
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Good.” Jill took one last swallow of her coffee then set her empty cup on the table. She grabbed her purse and scraped back her chair. “Now, I’m going to take you out and have some fun.”
Like I was in the frame of mind for fun? I followed her to the coffee shop’s door. “Out? You didn’t mention going out tonight.”