Holding Strong
Page 77
“Come here.” He stretched back out in the bed with Cherry tucked safely against his side, then reached out an arm to turn out the light. They both needed a good night’s sleep.
After a quick kiss, she let out a sigh, shifted to get more comfortable, and fell silent. Despite all the unanswered questions and vague threats, it was nice holding her like this, ending his day with her gentle scent in the air, her warm body curled to his.
Unfortunately, an hour later, Denver’s thoughts continued to churn. He’d listened to Cherry fade into sleep and now enjoyed the feel of her gentle breath over his chest, the soft sounds she made in slumber.
Soft...until she seemed to hold her breath.
Attuned to her, he went still and alert. The arm she had around his abdomen flinched.
Raising his head, seeing her through the shadows, Denver whispered, “Cherry?”
She made another small sound—this one of distress.
Turning to face her, he clasped her shoulder. “Cherry.”
Her eyes popped open and she stared up at him, breathing shakily. “Denver?”
Who else? “Yeah. You okay?”
She nodded, swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“Bad dream?”
Even in the darkness, he saw the confusion in her eyes before she claimed, “I was dreaming...of you.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHERRY WRAPPED HER arms around Denver’s neck and hugged him tight to calm her trembling. Though now wide awake, emotionally she remained trapped in that damn strange dream—that had taken such a treacherous turn. She could still feel the cold, rocky ground cutting into her knees, smell the thick, dew-wet vegetation of the woods, hear the rustling of leaves high in the trees—and the drone of insects.
Over and over, the laughter of a cruel audience seemed to echo in her head.
She lifted a shoulder against her face to wipe her eyes and realized she wasn’t sweaty from the hot summer day. No grime clogged her pores. Her hair felt soft and clean.
It had been so real—because she’d once lived it.
Except for the ending.
“Tell me,” Denver said quietly.
No. Her heart raced as she remembered her cowardice, her pathetic struggles and useless tears.
The laughter over her spineless fear. The clicking of the bugs that drew nearer, the vision of multiple legs and antennae and sometimes even eyes.
And then the sound of a gunshot fractured the night.
In reality, she hadn’t been able to move.
But in her dream, she’d turned to flee—and run headlong into Denver. His arms had closed around her and everything else had faded away.
Denver ran a hand up and down her back. “Tell me what you really dreamed about.”
Danger and fear with Denver somehow mixed up in the middle of it. In the dream, he’d wanted her.
She wanted him now.
Kissing his shoulder, she tasted his sleek, hot skin over firm muscle. That was so nice that she nibbled her way up to his throat, raspy with beard shadow, then to his strong jaw. “I need you.”
He pried her arms loose and rose over her. “Cherry—”
“It was just a nightmare, but in it you showed up.”
“And saved you?”
No. She wouldn’t let him play macho protector. She would protect herself. What she needed most from him he could damn well give her right now.
Sliding a leg up and over his hip, she insisted, “You’re here, in my bed.” Dragging her fingernails lightly over his chest, testing his muscles, she insisted, “Kiss me. Please.”
The merest hesitation had her holding her breath, then he bent his head and brushed his mouth over hers with such tenderness, her heart wanted to break.
“Not like that,” she begged, pulling him back, licking over his bottom lip before nipping him with her teeth. “Kiss me like you want me.”
Husky, concerned, he whispered, “I always want you, girl.”
So then why did he sound so somber? She lifted against him, and sure enough, he had an erection. To convince him, she said, “I have condoms in my nightstand.”
That got her a tight squeeze, and a tighter, “Why?”
Silly Denver. It would take her a while to get used to the idea of him being jealous.
Lifting her legs around him, she locked her ankles at the small of his back. “In case I ever talked you into coming over.” Stroking her hands down his broad back to his muscled tush, she squeezed him. “And I have—so give it up.”
His resistance wavered, she felt it in the way he breathed, how he settled more fully atop her.
Taking advantage of that, Cherry trailed her fingertips up his back to his wide shoulders. “You are such a stud. Please Denver, stop denying me.”
After a quick kiss, she let out a sigh, shifted to get more comfortable, and fell silent. Despite all the unanswered questions and vague threats, it was nice holding her like this, ending his day with her gentle scent in the air, her warm body curled to his.
Unfortunately, an hour later, Denver’s thoughts continued to churn. He’d listened to Cherry fade into sleep and now enjoyed the feel of her gentle breath over his chest, the soft sounds she made in slumber.
Soft...until she seemed to hold her breath.
Attuned to her, he went still and alert. The arm she had around his abdomen flinched.
Raising his head, seeing her through the shadows, Denver whispered, “Cherry?”
She made another small sound—this one of distress.
Turning to face her, he clasped her shoulder. “Cherry.”
Her eyes popped open and she stared up at him, breathing shakily. “Denver?”
Who else? “Yeah. You okay?”
She nodded, swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“Bad dream?”
Even in the darkness, he saw the confusion in her eyes before she claimed, “I was dreaming...of you.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHERRY WRAPPED HER arms around Denver’s neck and hugged him tight to calm her trembling. Though now wide awake, emotionally she remained trapped in that damn strange dream—that had taken such a treacherous turn. She could still feel the cold, rocky ground cutting into her knees, smell the thick, dew-wet vegetation of the woods, hear the rustling of leaves high in the trees—and the drone of insects.
Over and over, the laughter of a cruel audience seemed to echo in her head.
She lifted a shoulder against her face to wipe her eyes and realized she wasn’t sweaty from the hot summer day. No grime clogged her pores. Her hair felt soft and clean.
It had been so real—because she’d once lived it.
Except for the ending.
“Tell me,” Denver said quietly.
No. Her heart raced as she remembered her cowardice, her pathetic struggles and useless tears.
The laughter over her spineless fear. The clicking of the bugs that drew nearer, the vision of multiple legs and antennae and sometimes even eyes.
And then the sound of a gunshot fractured the night.
In reality, she hadn’t been able to move.
But in her dream, she’d turned to flee—and run headlong into Denver. His arms had closed around her and everything else had faded away.
Denver ran a hand up and down her back. “Tell me what you really dreamed about.”
Danger and fear with Denver somehow mixed up in the middle of it. In the dream, he’d wanted her.
She wanted him now.
Kissing his shoulder, she tasted his sleek, hot skin over firm muscle. That was so nice that she nibbled her way up to his throat, raspy with beard shadow, then to his strong jaw. “I need you.”
He pried her arms loose and rose over her. “Cherry—”
“It was just a nightmare, but in it you showed up.”
“And saved you?”
No. She wouldn’t let him play macho protector. She would protect herself. What she needed most from him he could damn well give her right now.
Sliding a leg up and over his hip, she insisted, “You’re here, in my bed.” Dragging her fingernails lightly over his chest, testing his muscles, she insisted, “Kiss me. Please.”
The merest hesitation had her holding her breath, then he bent his head and brushed his mouth over hers with such tenderness, her heart wanted to break.
“Not like that,” she begged, pulling him back, licking over his bottom lip before nipping him with her teeth. “Kiss me like you want me.”
Husky, concerned, he whispered, “I always want you, girl.”
So then why did he sound so somber? She lifted against him, and sure enough, he had an erection. To convince him, she said, “I have condoms in my nightstand.”
That got her a tight squeeze, and a tighter, “Why?”
Silly Denver. It would take her a while to get used to the idea of him being jealous.
Lifting her legs around him, she locked her ankles at the small of his back. “In case I ever talked you into coming over.” Stroking her hands down his broad back to his muscled tush, she squeezed him. “And I have—so give it up.”
His resistance wavered, she felt it in the way he breathed, how he settled more fully atop her.
Taking advantage of that, Cherry trailed her fingertips up his back to his wide shoulders. “You are such a stud. Please Denver, stop denying me.”
