His broad shoulders rounded as he buried his face in his hands. Lilah sat up, but before she could touch him, he stood and strode out of the room.
It tore at her not to go after him, but she knew it was wiser to wait. She couldn’t force him to tell her what she wanted to hear. Loving her had to be his choice.
She went into the bathroom, stripped, and took a long shower. Lori’s toiletries were as pleasantly scented as her perfume, and Lilah felt much better once she was clean.
After she towel-dried her hair, she put on the one nightgown that fit her from the suitcase, a peach satin gown that barely contained her breasts but fell around her legs in soft, swaying folds. She came out to see the room was still empty, which hurt, but she went around and shut off all the lights, leaving the television on. Once she got into bed, she huddled under the chenille coverlet until her body warmed the cold sheets.
He’ll come back when he’s ready, she told her aching heart, closing her eyes and hoping she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.
Lilah drifted in and out of sleep, unable to stop listening for him. Then the door to the room opened, and she felt a shadow looming over her.
She didn’t open her eyes, and he retreated into the bathroom. She heard the shower turn on, the sounds of him washing, and then the water shutting off. Imagining him naked was not helping; her body tingled all over in anticipation.
He came out a short time later, and climbed into bed, his body warm and slightly damp against hers.
“You are not naked,” he murmured as he pulled her back against him.
She turned around to snuggle against him, so relieved she could have wept. “You weren’t here to keep me warm.”
“I was not always as I am now.” The words came out of him as if he had to drag each one. “My mother was like yours, a cold woman who refused to open her heart. She married my father only for his wealth. Growing up in such a house, I suppose I was destined to be the same, but then I did fall in love. I fell in love at first sight. It was as complete and hopeless as the poets say, except that I was my mother’s son, and I was determined to have her. So I pursued her, and I schemed and manipulated and used my father’s wealth and position, and in the end, I married her.”
Lilah heard the pain in his voice. “Walker, you don’t have to tell me this.”
“I want you to know.” He kissed the top of her head. “Our marriage was a disaster. She didn’t love me or want me, and left me as soon as she could. I never saw her again. After that, love was a curse. I couldn’t be with another woman and not think of her. At least, until I found you.”
When Lilah felt his mouth against her hair, she lifted her face and stole a kiss. He took it back, slowly and with great care, his hand against her face, his fingers tracing over her features, as if he’d never touched a woman before her.
“I don’t know what this is between us,” he said, “but I have never known anyone or anything like you in my life.”
Lilah understood. They were in unmapped territory now, both of them.
The satin of the nightgown grew damp between the press of their bodies, and clung to her skin when he gathered his hand in it and tugged it up over her hips. Lilah couldn’t keep her hands away from his body; she wanted to stroke every inch of him and then start all over again. He was so big and hard and there, right there, hers to tease and caress and taste. His mouth scored over hers as he mirrored her movements, following where she led, lifting her to sweep away the satin and bring her swollen breasts to his face, his hand cupping her, his tongue stroking over the ache.
She curled her leg over his thigh, opening herself to the probe of his straining penis. He pressed up, gliding into her with one smooth stroke, his hand at the back of her head, his mouth catching her gasps.
Dimly Lilah remembered the first time she had held him in her arms, when he had been a stranger in a nightmare, when he had fought so hard not to hurt her. That had been the moment she had fallen in love with him, she realized, and every time they came together like this, she was going to remember it.
Her arms trembled as she linked them around his neck, and rode the long, deep strokes he was giving her. It was such a simple thing, the push and pull of his shaft, the clasp and release of her sheath, and the delicious heat they created for each other, in each other. Time had no meaning, and the world was gone. She thought it could be forever, and then it was, her body shaking, her muscles tightening as she shattered, coming all over him, taking him with her as he groaned and stiffened. As he filled her with the thick gush of his seed, she bathed him in her own liquid heat.
He held her close, their bodies still enmeshed, his arms cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to die for her, that he had to live, but she was already slipping away into a dream.
“Sleep,” she heard him whisper, and she did.
He woke with the dawn, and for the first time didn’t feel the disorienting oddness of sleeping through the night. Lilah lay draped atop him, limp as only a thoroughly satisfied woman could be, and he spent a few moments enjoying that new sensation as well. Their room was woefully inadequate, a shabby and anonymous box, and yet he felt as if he occupied a corner of heaven.
“Mmm,” he heard her murmur, and watched her beautiful eyes blink open. She rested her chin against his sternum. “Hello. You make a great box spring.”
“While you are a very fine coverlet.” He shifted her up so he could kiss her pretty mouth. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes. But I can’t decide if I want breakfast, or you.” She pretended to think. “Can I have both?”
“If I can play coverlet, yes.” He rolled with her, bracing himself over her as he pushed between her thighs and sank deep. Feeling how soft and wet she was for him made his thoughts dwindle and turned his body into a pistoning engine, and he fucked her thoroughly and steadily, bringing her to a wrenching, gushing climax.
Another, less enjoyable pounding intruded on his pleasure, and he brought up his head as he heard a muffled voice from behind the wall, against which the bed had been rhythmically moving along with him.
“Come on, man,” the disgruntled voice yelled. “It’s six a.m. Give it a rest.”
“Uh-oh. We’re bothering the neighbors.” Lilah giggled like a girl. “He must not be a morning person.”
“He can get another room,” he said as he rolled over onto his back with her. He frowned as she lifted herself from him. “I am not finished with you.”
“That’s my line.” She trailed a line of kisses down his body, settling between his legs.
He bit back a groan as he felt her breath against the slick dome of his cock, and then the sweet enclosure of her lips.
Lilah suckled him slowly, laving him with languid absorption, taking him in with torturous care. His hand found her head, and tangled in her hair as he fought the urge to push deeper, and then he pulled her back.
She lifted her mouth from him, painting him with her breath. Her hair lay disheveled around her face; her sleepy eyes gleamed as sensuously as her lips. “Let me do this.”
“I want my mouth on you while you suck me.” He sat up, taking her by the waist and moving her body so that she was on her side. He pushed her thighs apart and put his mouth to her mound, parting her folds with his tongue and groaning as he felt her lips slide over his straining cockhead. He tasted her sweetness mingled with his own salt, and worked his tongue into her, stroking the fluttering tightness until he felt her belly tighten and her thighs tense. The soft sounds she made hummed along his shaft, and he drew his tongue back and forth over the little bulge of her clit, his cock swelling in her mouth as she sucked him deeper.
He couldn’t stop the jet of his seed, but it brought her with him as she came apart under his mouth, her hips rolling as his jerked, her fingernails scoring his hips as his hands clamped around her soft bottom.
Lilah was still shaking as he lifted her and gathered her close. “That was. I never. You just.” She buried her face against his neck. “God.”
He closed his eyes.
Lilah had never spent an entire day in bed, but after eight hours of making love and sleeping and eating takeout with Walker, she decided she had been seriously deprived. They couldn’t get enough of each other, and if they hadn’t agreed to meet Samuel, she suspected they would have stayed in the room until they ran through all of Lori’s money.
“I’m becoming a sex addict,” she said after they went to take a shower together and ended up having to take a second one. “You’re turning me into a nymphomaniac, you bad man.”
“You asked me to help you wash,” he reminded her, looking annoyingly satisfied. “You did not say with what.”
“All right, I guess I like how you wash me.” When he reached for her towel, she darted away. “Oh, no. Don’t start again. I won’t be able to walk. You’ll have to carry me to meet Samuel.”
“Come here, my heart.” Helpless to resist, she went to him, and he bent and kissed the top of her head. “I will not touch you again.”
“Wait a minute,” she said. “I have to take some of that back.”
He pressed a finger against her lips. “Not until we are alone again.”
She considered that. “Maybe this meeting won’t take that long.”
They left the motel and stopped at the diner, where Lilah watched Walker wolf down three more breakfasts. She was so hungry she ordered an extra meal of her own.
“If we keep having these mutual eating marathons, I’m going to end up weighing five hundred pounds,” she complained as they left a generous tip for the incredulous waitress. “Then you’ll be sorry.” She glanced down at her curves. “If you’re not already.”
“Your body is perfect for me,” he assured her. “I do not like skinny women.”
She hmphed. “Everyone likes skinny women.”
“They are bony and weak, and tire easily.” He picked her up, holding her dangling above the ground as he brought her mouth to his. “You are luscious and strong.” His eyes darkened. “And delightfully insatiable.”