Jill Shalvis - Long-Lost Mom

Bending over her, he slid her dress off her shoulders, kissing first a full curve of her breast, then a pebbled tip through the lace. The teasing and caressing made her gasp.

“You do remember-” she whispered, closing her eyes when he moved his hips against her.

“No one has ever been able to make me forget,” he confessed.

“Oh, Stone-for me, either.” She pulled his shirt off, then ran her hands down his quivering stomach to cup him. Her fingers curled around his rigid length until his control and any coherent thought vanished.

Past and present mingled in his head, along with an explosion of emotions. Aching, he unclasped her bra and drew a nipple into his mouth, thrilling to her soft whimpers. His hands slipped down, working at more buttons because he wanted her naked this time, flesh to flesh. But when he grasped the dress to drag it down, she stiffened and put her hands over his.

“What?” Dipping, he kissed the spot near her hip where her hands held her dress to her. “What is it, Jenna?”

“The… tattoo.” Her voice sounded choked, full of tears, and he lifted his head to stare at her. “I’m sorry,” she said around a strangled sob. “I never got rid of it because I wanted to remember my past and how stupid I’d been.”

“Jenna.” Tenderly, he gathered her hands in his, kissing her deeply and leisurely, evoking her helpless response. Before she could protest, he spread the unbuttoned dress and slipped down her body to kiss the small rose. “All of you, Jenna. It’s no good unless I have all of you.”

Rearing up, she slid her fingers into his hair and kissed him back-a frantic passion-driven kiss.

“One of these days,” he muttered, “we’re going to make it to a bed and-” But he broke off when she pulled his undone trousers off his hips.

“I don’t need a bed,” she told him. “All I need is you. You’re all I ever needed.” Her words sent him soaring even higher.

Lurching to his feet, he kicked off his shoes and tore off his shirt and pants. Then he took off all of her clothes.

When he sat and pulled her onto his lap, she went eagerly. Gripping her bottom, he held her over him, teasing her until she was writhing in his arms.

“Wait,” he gasped, hot, hard and dying, but still he reached down and fumbled through his wallet for a condom. She helped him put it on, leaving him so near the edge he was shaking by the time he was sheathed.

“Now,” she pleaded, as she took him inside her in one urgent downward thrust of her hips, taking in every inch until he was buried to the hilt.

She rocked on him, wrenching a moan of pleasure from his throat as she continued to move. Their mouths clung and mated as their bodies strove and strained. Nuzzling a bare breast with his mouth, he slid a hand between their damp bodies, using his thumb to stroke the hot wet core of her.

Her breathing turned into sobbing little pants, and she bent over his shoulder, moving with him while he kept up the torment. Suddenly she tensed and cried out his name, gripping him hard as she came in one long endless shudder.

He couldn’t hold back, not with her sweet body in his arms, her low cries of passion ringing in his ears. With a rough helpless sound, he willingly followed her over the edge.

When he was able to think again, Stone was afraid Jenna would do one of two things-ignore the heart-wrenching lovemaking they’d just shared or run off.

She did neither; she drifted to his side drowsily. He held her close, surprised at his need to do so. But there was still so much unresolved. He was still full of burning questions, still harboring serious resentment and anger, and worst of all, he knew she was holding back, hiding behind their physical attraction, protecting the part of her she was afraid to show him. In a way, they were both hiding, both afraid, and he hated that. How could they ever put the past behind them?

“Jenna-”

“Not yet, Stone,” she whispered, shivering when the breeze danced over their damp bodies. “Please, not yet.”

His chest tightened and he pulled her closer. “It won’t just all go away.”

“I know. I don’t expect it to.”

Holding her, he stared up at the sky and listened to their breathing return to normal. Far below, down the cliffs, he could hear the ocean, and it soothed his racing thoughts.

And even as he let her draw him back for more, the fist around his heart didn’t ease. The fist which held the knowledge that Jenna was holding back, protecting herself from him, and as long as she did that, she didn’t fully trust him.

She may never fully trust him, and nothing could hurt more than that. Except him not trusting her.

“Jenna.”

At the big warm hand on her back and the sound of Stone’s sleep-husky voice, she awoke and smiled into her pillow-until she remembered.

She was in her own bed. Stone had carried her here in his arms, the romantic gesture making her heart melt. Then he’d dropped her tenderly on her bed and…well, they’d finally made it to a bed.

Because she had instigated it.

She’d felt like a child when she’d faced Rand Ridgeway. A young terrified child who’d been neglected, molested and then tossed out for her “lies.”

In response the supposedly grown-up Jenna had acted predictably. She’d reverted to her bad-girl status, begging for attention, and oh, Lord, she’d certainly gotten it.

She and Stone had always been sheer magic together, but this afternoon, it’d been heaven.

And for all the wrong reasons.

He hadn’t made her talk. He hadn’t been able to since she’d kept dragging him back to her body. Just remembering how shameless she’d been made her want to curl up and die.

Yet even after sheer exhaustion had set in, he’d been patient about her inability to put words to her feelings. He could have no idea how much it meant, but she would be sure to tell him.

As soon as she could look him in the eye without wanting to cringe in embarrassment.

“We have to talk, Jenna.”

She froze. “Those words never precede anything good,” she said lightly. But she turned over and faced him. Chest bare, jeans unfastened, his eyes solemn, he sat on the edge of the bed looking sexy as hell.

“I have so many questions, Jenna.” His expression was tense. “You can’t ignore them no matter how much you might want to.”

More shame filled her, since he’d hit the nail right on the head. She did wish she could bury her head in the sand. Having no idea what to say, she touched his thigh, hoping the words would come to her.

“Are you going to say anything?” he asked, gripping the hand she’d placed on him. “Or try to delay this little chat with more sex?”

She drew herself up, crossing her arms. Somehow, she thought she could tell him how she felt with her body, but that was wrong. He deserved more. Why couldn’t she give it? What was she still afraid of? If she wasn’t careful, she might never see him-or Sara-again.

But even that terrifying thought didn’t make answers leap to her tongue, and helplessly mute, she stared at him.

His jaw tightened and his probing gaze searched hers while the silence deepened. “I guess that’s my answer.” He rose. “I have to be at the shop when Sara’s bus gets there.”

He finished dressing, silent and angry, his movements jerky. Jenna watched him, heart aching as she clutched the sheet to her chin. She felt so naked. She was going to lose him right now. And she didn’t know how to stop it, what to do to make it okay.

He went to the door and stopped with his hand on the knob. “You know where I’ll be,” he said, “if you decide you want to talk.”

He hesitated, waiting.

Even now, after this, he was going to give her the chance to repair the horrible damage. To explain why she had slept with him yet couldn’t figure out how to open her heart to him. Humiliation rose like bile, and she bit her lip, keeping her silence-not because she wanted to, but because she honestly didn’t know how to change herself. All she did know was that wanting to trust him with the real Jenna and actually doing so were two entirely different things.

“Stone, please.” Please what? She wondered frantically. What could she say to make him stay? What was it exactly that he wanted from her? God, she didn’t know, and frustration overwhelmed her.

He stared at her, slowly shaking his head. “It hurts, you know. That after this, after what we shared today, and in our past, you still don’t trust me enough to share yourself.”

It was true, and that truth slashed at her. “I want to,” she cried, feeling a hot tear slide down her cheek. “I want you and Sara so much I ache with it.”

“Don’t you see?” he questioned softly, his voice heavy with regret and hurt and even anger. “It’s not enough to want. You have to do it. You have to stop running, Jenna. Stop running.”

He looked at her, but when she didn’t speak-couldn’t speak-he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

By the next morning Jenna was exhausted. Sleep had eluded her; so had any peace of mind.

Instead of going to work, she went to the beach, the place that had once been one of her few safe havens. Sitting on the same rock where she’d first seen Stone again, she concentrated on watching the waves.

Logically she knew she should have faced him the day before. But much as she might regret it, it was too late to be adult about it now.

Or was it?

A figure was walking toward her. Stone. Though she wore dark glasses, she still had to hold a hand up to block the glare of the morning sun before risking a closer look. He didn’t seem surprised to see her, which meant he’d come looking for her.

Without a word, he stopped in front of the rock, as always the picture of calm. But Jenna knew better than to trust what she saw before her, for she’d seen him lose that famed control on several occasions. A couple of them made her blush now.

A light salty wind blew, cooling her heated face. The surf tumbled toward the shore, making the day seem eerily normal.

“Are you still angry?” she whispered.

“Hell, yes.”

She nodded and tried to keep her feelings hidden. “I see.”

“But I still couldn’t stay away, damn you.”

“Oh.” Unreasonable hope flared inside her. He looked miserable, which should make her feel horrible, and it did, really. But if he was miserable, then he still cared.

Or so she hoped.

“I have no idea why I’m here,” he admitted quietly.

“Maybe for some explanation of what’s happening?” she asked by way of her own apology.

“That might be nice.” He took a deep breath. “Why did you come back, Jenna?”

“I realized I’d been a fool.”

“Ah, I see.” All traces of good humor vanished. “So just like my parents, ten years go by and suddenly-poof!” He lifted his hands in the air. “You magically feel you have to make amends?”

“Not quite like that, no.”

“Like what, then? Like maybe life on the run isn’t any fun anymore, so let’s go back to Stone because he’s such an easygoing guy he’ll jump at the chance to reunite?”

“Not like that, either,” she whispered, bringing a hand up to her cheek.

“That little gesture of vulnerability isn’t going to work, Jenna. Neither is hiding behind those glasses.” His grating tone, his flashing eyes, told her the opposite. Her gesture had touched him, unbearably so, fueling his temper.

She dropped her hand immediately.

His voice was hard. “I’m trying to understand but it’s damned hard since you haven’t said much. Maybe you decided that since your baby was no longer a baby, since all the hard work had been done, she’d be easier to handle. Is that it?”

“No. No!”

“Then tell me, dammit. Tell me about your epiphany. Tell me and try to make me care.”

“I was in a car accident.”

A muscle in his jaw leaped. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her from carefully hooded eyes. “I know. You told me.”

“But there’s more, a lot more, only you haven’t wanted to hear it.”

She waited, although it was the hardest thing she’d ever done. But her patience won out.

“Okay, but without these.” With a flick of his wrist he removed her sunglasses.

“Okay?” she repeated, squinting against the painful glare.

“Okay, go on,” he said, giving her the one thing she wanted above all else.

Permission to explain herself. And God willing, he’d also forgive her. Because then, just maybe, she could claim back her old life. Maybe even have Stone and Sara in that life.

What Jenna would have given to have Stone take her in his capable arms-the way he would have if she was still Cindy.

But she’d made that impossible.