“Damn you to hell if you’re lying to me,” she whispered.
“I’m not. You can ask Junior.”
“Junior would back you up if you said the sky was green. I’ll ask the doctor.”
“He’s dead.”
“Figures,” she remarked, laughing dryly. “What did she use to try to kill me?”
“Alex, don’t.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“What was it?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me, damn you!”
/> “Your grandma’s knitting needle!”
It had started out a soft exchange but ended on a shout. The sudden, resulting silence was deafening.
“Oh, God,” Alex whimpered, clamping her teeth over her lower lip and turning her face into the pillow. “Oh, God.”
“Shh, don’t cry. Celina didn’t hurt you, just herself.”
“She wanted to hurt me, though. She didn’t want me to be born.” Her sobs shook her whole body. He absorbed them with his. “Why didn’t the doctor just take me while he was fixing her up?”
Reede didn’t answer.
Alex turned her head and stared up at him. She caught handfuls of his shirt in her fists. “Why, Reede?”
“He suggested it.”
“Then, why didn’t he?”
“Because I swore that if he did, I’d kill him.”
An emotion zephyred between them. It was so strong it knocked the breath out of her and made her chest ache. She uttered an involuntary, wordless sound. Her fingers momentarily relaxed in the cloth of his shirt, only to grip it tighter and draw him nearer. Her back arched off the bed again, not in an attempt to throw him off, but to get closer.
He sank his fingers into her hair, tilted his dark blond head, and pressed his open mouth against hers. Her lips were parted and damp and receptive. He sent his tongue deep into her mouth.
Frantically, she worked her arms out of her coat sleeves and locked them around the back of his neck. He raised his head suddenly and looked down at her. There were dark shadows from weeping beneath her eyes, but the blue irises were crystal clear as they steadily gazed back at him. She knew exactly what she was doing. That’s all he needed to know.
He ran his thumb over her lips, which were moist and swollen from his hard kiss. All he could think about was kissing her again, harder, and he did.
Her throat was arched and vulnerable to his lips when they left hers. He drew her skin lightly against his teeth, then soothed it with whisks of his tongue. He nuzzled her ear and the base of her neck, and when her clothing got in his way, he pulled her to a sitting position and peeled her sweater over her head.
As they lay back down, their breathing was loud and uneven, the only sound in the room. He unclasped her bra and pushed the cups aside.
His fingers skimmed over her flesh, which was warm and flushed with arousal. He cupped one breast, pushed it up, and took the center between his lips. He sucked it with enough pressure to elicit a tingle in her womb, but with enough finesse to tantalize. When the nipple drew taut, he flicked it roughly with the tip of his tongue.
Alex cried his name in panic and joy. He buried his face between her breasts and held her close while he rolled her above him and fought his way out of his jacket at the same time. She began tearing free the buttons of his shirt. He unzipped and unbuttoned her skirt, then shoved it down over her hips, taking her half-slip along with it. Alex ran her fingers through the thick pelt of hair on his chest, dropped random kisses on his supple muscles, and rubbed her cheek against his distended nipple.
They reversed positions again. She managed to get off her shoes and stockings before he stretched out on top of her. He placed his hand low on her belly and slid it down into her underpants.