“You’re too tough on yourself.”
“You’re too easy on me.”
She shook her head, refusing my self-condemnation. “You’re a good man, Declan, even if you don’t believe it yourself. You were going to buy your mother a house. You wanted to take care of her, even though she hadn’t ever taken good care of you.” I hadn’t thought of it that way before. Words stuck in my throat.
Again, she seemed to sense what I needed. “And here, all along I thought you had a black heart,” she teased me, lightening the mood, her bewitching fingers moving up and down my chest.
“I remember.” I caressed her side, my hand fitting perfectly along the curve of her waist. “You gave me a piece of obsidian.”
“I can’t believe you remember that!” She sounded delighted.
“I named my company after it.”
“What?” Her fingers stilled.
“Obsidian Investors. It stuck with me, how you’d given me that chunk of rock and told me ‘It’s cool and black. Like your heart.’”
“Did I say all that? That’s horrible!”
“You added some other things, like that’s what I wanted people to think. As if you knew otherwise.” I pulled her against me tight.
“So you named your company after that?”
I nodded. “It fit me. You were right. I have a black heart.”
She shook her head against me and I could feel her fight it. She’d always thought I was more than that, always seen more to me than even I had, myself. Then I felt her sigh against me, as if her whole body deflated.
“You did break my heart, you know.” She spoke, quiet and sad though without reproach. “When you left.”
Here it was, the conversation I knew we’d have to have at some point. I didn’t know how much she knew about why I’d left, if Harlan had told her at some point, or if she’d guessed. Right then I realized she had no idea.
“I had to do it.” The words felt hollow coming out and I knew they must sound even worse to her. But at the time, I’d really felt that way. “I did it for you.”
“Bullshit.” She said it low and certain, not angry, just calling my bluff.
“Well, your father certainly saw it that way.”
“My father?” She pulled herself up, sitting now. I liked her naked, her pretty pink breasts out and exposed for me, but I missed her wrapped around me, our mingled body heat.
I pulled myself up to sitting as well. “That last night, the night you came down to my cabin.” She nodded. “Your father knew. He was watching and saw you leave my place.”
Her eyes grew round and she brought her hand up to her mouth.
“He was waiting for me when I came out of the shower,” I continued. “He fired me. Kicked me out and told me never to set foot there again.”
“He did?” Kara asked, shocked.
“So he never told you? I figured he might do that.” That was cruel of him, but smart. It really sealed the deal, made sure Kara thought I was the trash he knew me to be. As if I’d up and leave her after those nights together with no note, no explanation, like it all meant nothing.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you ever…” She held up her hand, her palm upturned as if holding all of the phone calls and text messages and love letters and visits I’d never made.
“Because Harlan was right. I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“Bullshit.” This time she sounded angrier, more defiant.
“He never said anything to you about why I left?”
“Never.” She shook her head.
I swore. “He sure as shit said something to me. He told me I wasn’t good enough for you. I wasn’t going to treat you right, give you the future you deserved.”
“No.” She shook her head, refusing this version of the story, tears stinging her eyes.
“Yes,” I insisted, and she knew I was telling the truth. “Thing was, he knew what he was talking about. What did I have, back then? I had nothing.”
“It didn’t matter!” Kara insisted, leaning toward me.
“It did matter.”
“Not to me.”
“You have to remember how it was for me back then. I had nothing. He pissed me off when he pointed it out, but I knew he was right. I had no business pulling you down into the gutter with me.”
“Declan, you’re all I’ve ever wanted.” Her eyes, wide and luminous, her lips pink and parted, I didn’t know how I’d ever lucked into her falling back into my life. After all the crap I’d been through, all the many years alone and fighting my way through day-to-day, maybe it was time? Maybe it was time to finally have what I’d always really wanted?
I wrapped her in my arms and crushed her to me, kissing her breathless, worshipping her.
Room service. Damn it. I heard it again, a knock at the door. Reluctantly, I stood and pulled on a robe. My woman needed to eat. Shutting the bedroom door, I let them into the suite to set the trays down. After giving them a good tip, I sent them out and locked the door. No more intrusions.
She enjoyed her breakfast. I just wanted to feast on her. Once she was done, I did just that, licking and tasting every inch of her body and bringing her yet another orgasm. A man could get addicted to it, the feel of her shivers and shudders, her needy pants and groans.
After a while we drifted off again, relaxed and sated and happy. That’s how we passed the rest of the day, in bed, naked, chatting, stroking, coming, snoozing, eating from time to time. It might have been the best day of my life.
Late afternoon, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the shower. She needed some hot steam, warm water pounding on her sore muscles. I was working her hard, I knew that. My lust for her knew no bounds. I wanted her again, all the time. I had to pace myself so she could keep up.
But once we were in the shower, I couldn’t help myself. Naked, in the heat, I cupped my hands underneath her ass cheeks and pushed her up against the wall.
“I need to taste you,” I breathed into her, then knelt down to bring my face to her pussy.
“Ahh! Declan!” She cried out as I brought my tongue down between her folds, slick and hot, licking her most intimate, private places. I loved how she tasted, her sweet juices. I could feast on her every day. The sounds she made, the desperate moans and gasps, the sighs of pleasure, the jagged feel of her breathing as she started to pant. The twist of her fingers in my hair, agitated, needy, pulling at me, pushing me into her slit. I loved driving her wild.
“I’m going to—” At the sound of her words, I thrust my tongue hard up into her, using my hands to spread her wide apart, giving me all the access I required. She shuddered and came on my tongue, screaming and clawing at me with raw animal pleasure.
Before she even finished coming, I stood up and positioned her right where I wanted her up against the wall, my hands still firmly under her ass. I plunged my raging hard cock directly into her wet, quivering pussy. She screamed and exploded all over again, another orgasm wracking her as I filled her completely, spearing her without warning.
“Yes!” she cried out. “Oh, yes!”
Her hands up at my shoulders, I pressed her against the wall and began to fuck her deliberate and slow, burying my cock into her deep again and again up to the hilt. Moaning, her eyes closed, she melted into me, groaning with the leisurely feel of it. I wanted it slow, wanted it to build, never wanted it to end.
“Kara,” I whispered in her ear. She leaned toward me, her eyes still closed in pleasure. I remembered her question from earlier. I knew how to answer it now. “You asked me what feels like home to me.” I drove into her, full and hard and she took me in, every inch, warm and slick and groaning with delight. “You feel like home.”
“Declan!” she called out, overcome. “I love you.”
Senseless, I drove into her, wanting nothing more than this, nothing more than her. She felt so tight and hot and wet.