Lost in You. Sommer Marsden

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      ‘A few friends who’ve served overseas. One who was in a robbery when she was young. I believe the appropriate term is PTSD, nowadays.’

      I shook my head. ‘Oh, no. Nothing as horrible as that,’ I whispered.

      But I was lying. That was exactly what one shrink had called it. Though, not long after, I quickly decided therapy was not for me.

      ‘So what is it? If it’s not horrible, surely you can share.’ He smiled and it was nearly a sad smile.

      ‘I … when I was young I …’ My throat grew tight and my heart pounded. A tremor had started in my body and since he had my hand in his grip there was no hiding it from him. I pressed my legs together as if that could steady me. ‘It hardly ever bothers me!’ I blurted. ‘It was just the storm frightened me, is all. I’m really sorry.’

      I was panicking.

      ‘It’s OK,’ he said. He let my hand go and placed his at the small of my back. Small circles. That was what I felt. Small soothing circles.

       Small soothing circles for the crazy woman …

      ‘What was it?’

      ‘I was …’ I blinked furiously. I did not want to cry. I did not want to cry at all. I’d do anything to keep the tears crowding my eyes from tumbling down. ‘I was left alone. One night. When I was very young. And it was bad. That’s all. Just a misunderstanding. It was something that couldn’t be avoided. And I just –’

      ‘Clover –’

      ‘Please,’ I whispered. ‘Please don’t make me.’

      He looked surprised. It had never occurred to him, I don’t think, that by pressing the issue he was forcing me to do something against my will.

      ‘Christ,’ he muttered and pulled me against him. He simply held me there as the last of the tremors worked through me. His arm around my lower back. His heartbeat steady and calming beneath my ear. He smelled so good. Like strong man, and some kind of cologne, and sanity.

      The last part made me laugh.

      ‘I’m sorry, Clover,’ he said tugging the end of a lock of hair.

      I looked up, hesitant to break the connection with him. I didn’t know how long it would take to get another excuse to be close to him. And being close to him was something I was swiftly realising I liked.

      ‘It’s fine. I’m fine,’ I assured him. I sat up straight, feeling like an impostor. I was calm now. I couldn’t just lie there in his arms like some swooning heroine.

      Dorian stroked my hair. ‘Good. I’m glad. I’m sorry I pressed you on something that is simply none of my damn business.’

      ‘It’s fine. Thank you for caring.’

      I felt my face grow hot. That had simply slipped out. I’d had no idea I was going to say it.

      He smiled at me and touched my cheek. ‘You’re very easy to care about, you know.’

      Those words set off a waterfall of emotions in me that no one had ever managed to unleash. No man I’d dated. Not even the ones who’d told me they loved me. It was as if Dorian was the man who held a key to my feelings. A key I hadn’t even known existed until he used it to unlock those emotions in me.

      ‘No.’ Another blurt. The heat of my blush was burning my cheeks. ‘I didn’t know that I was … I didn’t know.’

      His lips came down on mine and I immediately opened my mouth to let his tongue slip inside. He stroked his tongue over mine and pulled me closer on the old velveteen couch. The smell of dust and history filled my nose and I kissed him back desperately. I wanted to climb into his lap, wrap myself around him and let him do whatever he wanted. It was an entirely new sensation to me, this surrender. And I adored it, though it scared me half to death.

      I didn’t wrap myself around him, but I did let him lean me back and cover me with his body. When his big hands left my face, traversed my hair and then moved down my body to explore me, I arched up into them. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to feel his hands all over me and I refused to examine the urge, I simply gave into it.

      ‘Clover –’

      I put my finger to his lips and shook my head. ‘Just kiss me,’ I said. And then, so he understood, ‘Yes.’

      I knew he’d worry about taking advantage. About it being too soon after my stress reaction. Too soon to take me this way. But it wasn’t too soon. It was right on time. In fact, it had been a long time coming. Since before I’d even met Dorian Martin.

       Chapter Nine

      I kissed him frantically. His forehead, his cheeks, his lips. He worked my sweater up over my belly and leaned to kiss me there. The heat of his mouth on my somewhat chilled skin was electric. Dorian dropped small gentle kisses along my skin, travelling higher until tremors hit me again but for an entirely different reason. His mouth closed over my nipple and a lusty sigh slipped out of me. I was wet. That fast. Very wet, wetter than I remembered being from something as simple as strategically placed kisses.

      ‘Do you think I’m a heel?’ He dragged his tongue from my left breast to my right. His free hand was warm against my waist where he simply held me.

      ‘Do people even say “heel” any more?’

      He chuckled. I forgot to laugh when his mouth closed possessively over my right nipple. Dorian sucked and I felt that drawing, tugging sensation all the way to the centre of me. He stroked the skin above my newly pilfered jeans and I had a moment when I simply prayed he’d slip his hand further down. Beneath the waistband. To find that wetness I’d become so aware of.

      ‘No, people don’t. I spent too much time listening to my mother and grandmother talk.’ He moved up to kiss me on the mouth again. Still touching me with strong, sure fingers as he thrust his tongue against mine once more.

      ‘You spend a lot of time around women.’ I touched his dark hair. I really touched it, sifted my fingers through it and stroked it as I kissed him back. I wanted to touch him everywhere now that this had started.

      The lights flickered like an old movie stuttering. For the first time I didn’t care. If we lost power, I’d just keep kissing him. Just keep touching him.

      ‘Not like you. None of the women I’ve been around are even remotely like you.’ He moved to pull the sweater over my head and without even missing a beat, I raised my arms for him to do so. ‘You really trust me, don’t you?’

      It was hard to read his gaze. I touched his jaw, nodded. ‘Yes. Does that bother you?’

      ‘No. It humbles me.’ The sweater came off and I was bare beneath. My poor sodden cami lay abandoned by the front door of the building. His grin went right to my belly, making me feel as if I were falling.

      ‘I’m going to shut up now,’ I said.

      ‘Me СКАЧАТЬ