Free Moments In Time: The Complete Novella Collection by Dori Lavelle Page B

healing from the loss of your ex, and that’s why
you’re holding back, but I am in love with all of you. We can work
through this together.”
    I rose to my feet and went to stand by the
window, gazing into the darkness. “There’s too much you don’t know
about me.”
    “Tell me, baby. Let me in, so I can get to
know you.”
    “I can’t.”
    He didn’t say anything more, but I could
hear him shuffling around behind me.
    He approached me, but I didn’t turn to face
him. He stood so close that heat radiated from his body to
mine.
    My heart skipped a beat.
    As he pressed the length of his body against
mine, his erection hard against my butt, he made me forget about my
plans to confess.
    “Tell me you don’t miss this.” Nick wrapped
his arms around me and slipped one hand inside the robe. He cupped
my breast, and with the other hand, unraveled the cord of my
bathrobe and peeled it off. The satin material brushed against my
body and pooled at my feet.
    The confession would have to wait. I needed
Nick. Just in case I never got the chance to be so close to him
again.
    I shivered as he moved his free hand toward
my panties.
    With just a finger, he removed them from the
area he was interested in and pushed them to my knees. He paused
and took his hands away from my body, leaving me cold. He unbuckled
his belt, unwrapped a condom. His warm breath caressed my skin as
he slid it on. Then he pulled me close again, bent me forwarded,
and parted my legs with his knees, opening me up to him. My breath
caught as he gripped my thighs and pushed into me, igniting me.
    He slid in and out slowly at first, and then
faster and harder, as our moans, groans, sighs, and my screams
merged into one.
    I gyrated my hips from side to side, feeling
all of him. It was hungry, painful, beautiful sex that stole my
breath.
    Together Nick and I rose up the ladder of
passion, higher and higher, until we climaxed at the same time.
    Panting, Nick straightened me but didn’t
pull out. His arms remained wrapped around my body. He kissed my
neck and the back of my ear. “Tell me you can live without this and
I’ll leave.”
    “I can’t,” I whispered. But inside, guilt
gnawed at me. It couldn’t go on like this. He had to know. “But we
need to talk.”
    “Yes, we do.” He slid out then, and I turned
to face him.
    “I’ll go and have a quick shower first, is
that okay?” I needed time to prepare myself for a moment that might
just change everything.
    “Take as long as you need. I’ll be
here.”
    When, five minutes later, I walked out of
the bathroom, drying my hair, my eyes zoomed in on what Nick held
in his hand, and my heart stopped. He held a framed photograph of
Chris.
    “Who is this?” he asked, his face ashen.
    I leaned against the doorframe for support,
suddenly dizzy with fear. “I... I... Nick...”
    “Answer me, dammit!” he shouted, his voice a
blade of steel that cut right through me. “What are you doing with
my brother’s photo?” His eyes were daggers. “Who are you?”
    “Nick.” I walked to him and tried to touch
him, but he yanked his arm away. “You’re her, aren’t you? You are Marianne Adams, the woman who shot and killed my
brother.”
    “I can explain.” Tears welled up in my eyes
and flooded my throat. “I wanted to tell you.” My first name was
Marianne, but after Chris died I wanted to be someone else, and I
started using my middle name instead.
    He threw the photo onto the couch and
grabbed his suit jacket. “What’s there to explain? You killed my
brother,” he shouted.
    I sank to the couch. “Yes,” I muttered. “But
it was a mistake. The police confirmed it.”
    “I don’t give a damn what the police think.
How can a killer be innocent? You pulled the trigger. That makes
you guilty of murder.” He leaned on the wall for support. His brows
knitted and his eyes narrowed to blazing slits. “How could you not
tell me? How could you make me find out like this?”
    “Please sit,” I