“Why—”
He brought his mouth down on hers to stop the questions, because he would tell her anything in this moment and he knew he’d regret it later. He put his hands on her butt and pulled her hips forward as he fell back on the bed. She kissed him deeply and though she was on top, he controlled the pace of their lovemaking.
He drove his hips up into her and pulled her forward with each thrust, making sure he filled every inch of her each time. She started moving faster and faster against him, and he felt that tingling feeling down the small of his back as his balls got heavier. He thrust up into her, feeling her tighten around him as she pulled her mouth from his and cried out his name in a long moan. He drove up into her again two more times and then came in a massive rush, emptying himself inside her. He continued to thrust a few more times, and then she collapsed on his chest as they both lay still, the afternoon sunshine spilling into the room over the back of her body.
His heart stopped racing and she stayed still on top of him. He stroked her back and felt something close to contentment. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on the fact that he was in the one place he’d always hated, because he didn’t want those feelings in here with Indy.
He wanted to forget about all of that. But then he felt her fingers on his chest, moving over the old ridges of his scars, and her question came back to him. His thorns. It was his version of a hair shirt. His way of reminding himself each time he looked in the mirror that his control was a cage around the rage and the emotions that he’d never been able to handle.
Her soft touch was showing him that his cage might not be strong enough this time.
Indy’s emotions were right at the surface and her barriers were down. She felt like she’d seen something in Conrad’s eyes that matched that soul-deep feeling she’d had when they’d been making love. She hated that he had wrapped his body in these thorny branches, and she wanted to understand more.
He’d said he used them to keep the pain inside. “What pain are you holding inside?”
She hadn’t realized she had said it out loud until she heard her voice in the quiet of the afternoon. He stopped stroking her back, and because she was draped over him, she felt the tension in his body that hadn’t been there a moment earlier. She rested her chin on his sternum and looked toward his face but all she saw was the bottom of his jaw, where there was another ragged scar.
He’d been so damaged physically. That didn’t mean that his emotional scars weren’t as deep. Given what he’d told her and how he acted, it didn’t take Nancy Drew to figure out.
“I don’t want to discuss that.”
She tried not to let his words hurt her, but they did. She was feeling so open and...caring toward him, she’d expected him to feel the same. “Okay.”
Now she felt silly and wanted some space. She pushed against his chest to get up but he put his hands on the small of her back and held her to him. Holding her gently but close to him and she realized that some times Conrad was going to show her how he felt with his physicality instead of his words.
“Don’t leave,” he said. There was an edge to his voice that she didn’t recognize. Something in the tone that made her relax against him.
“Sorry I pushed.”
“It’s your way.”
She laughed at that because it was true. And if she didn’t laugh, she might cry. She hated this feeling and yet at the same time it was a relief to know that she could feel some emotions like this again. A part of her had been in hiding since that date rape incident back in college. She knew it could have been so much worse, but it had left her shattered.
She needed a man to talk to so that she didn’t have to just hear all these thoughts in her own head. That voice that kept needling and picking things apart until she thought she’d scream.
She wanted to just lie in his arms and enjoy this moment, but she wasn’t allowing herself to.
His hands moved again, up and down her back. She swallowed and looked up at him again, and this time he had his head tipped down, watching her. Surprised, she almost dropped her head again, but didn’t.
“I’m always going to ask things you don’t want to answer,” she said.
“I know.”
“And?”
“And what? I’ll be silent or say something douchey. You know I will,” he said.
She smiled. That element of honesty mixed with self-deprecation never failed to make her like him even more. He might be warning her, but he never delivered on the darkness he cautioned her against. Her heart was telling her that was because he was an inherently good man worthy of her affection. But her mind was a little more cynical and wary of being hurt again. In the short time they’d known each other, she’d been more real with him than she had been with anyone in Gilbert Corners, including Nola.
“I do know. You know me too. Why are we both so honest with each other?” she asked.
“Because we know this won’t last.”
She stiffened with shock at his words. But then they settled in; she’d said as much to herself. He was right. They both knew it. It made her sad to hear it out loud, but as he’d said, he wasn’t one to lie. And neither was she. As much as she might have pretended to want to hear something that would soften the truth, she’d have seen through it and been upset if he’d lied to her.
“I know. I wish...”
She trailed off. What did she wish? There was nothing she could say that would be true.