Free Backdraft by Cher Carson Page A

lips. “Yes, no, hell, I don’t know anymore. If you’d asked me that question yesterday, I would have said you don’t deserve to be happy…”
    Holding her breath, she prayed he was about to tell their brief time together had upgraded his opinion of her. “And now?”
    “You remind me of the girl I fell in love with,” he whispered, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off her cheek. “It’s damn near impossible for me to hate you.”
    Smiling, she closed her eyes, turning into his touch. It was so sweet, so gentle, and so painfully familiar. “For the first time, you’re starting to remind me of the guy I fell in love with.”
    “I don’t know where we go from here,” he whispered, leaning in to nuzzle her neck. “I want to make love to you right now, but I know that won’t solve anything.”
    She wanted him, needed him, now. She had to believe that trust would come in time if she was willing to open herself up to the possibility of having a future with him again. “Maybe we shouldn’t try to figure this out right now. Maybe we should go with our hearts, and trust our instincts to guide us in the right direction.”
    He smiled against her cheek. “Problem is, I’m not thinking with my heart right now.”
    She glanced down to see the enormous bulge in the front of his pants. “I’ll take what I can get, for now.” She knew sex with this man would never be casual, not when he held her heart in the palm of his hand. If he chose to treat it with care, as he had in the past, he could make all of her dreams come true. But if he chose to hurt her, as she’d hurt him, it would destroy her. Reminding herself that she didn’t know him the way she once had, she knew this may be a ploy on his part, a way to exact revenge, but if she didn’t follow through, she’d always wonder whether she’d squandered their last chance to be together.
    Straddling his lap, she was careful to avoid his bandaged hand. “I’m not asking for promises, and I know this doesn’t mean you’re willing to try again,” she said, kissing his lips tenderly. “But can we just put the past behind us for one night?” She could see the play of emotion flicker across his face in the soft glow of the lamplight: confusion, torment, arousal. She still knew him well enough to know that he was battling his internal voices, fighting it out over right and wrong. “If you want to leave without looking back come morning, I won’t hold it against you, Dave.”
    “That’s just it; I know that’s not possible,” he whispered, kissing her neck. “Sex has just been sex for me for years. I never got emotionally involved, but with you, I can’t prevent that from happening even if I want to.”
    She tipped her head back to give him better access. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the sensation of his warm tongue abrading her cool skin. “I need you tonight,” she whispered. She had checked her pride at the door the second he crossed the threshold. She was prepared to lay it all out there, tell him, show him, how she felt and pray that he was brave enough to do the same. “Please…”
    “God,” he growled, clamping his hand around the back of her neck. “Don’t beg; you know what that does to me.”
    She remembered everything. She knew what turned him on, made him crazy, weakened his resolve to the point of making him beg for mercy, and she intended to use every trick in her arsenal to wear him down. She stood up, never taking her eyes off him as she peeled each article of clothing off, slowly. Standing before him, naked, she said, “Tell me what you want me to do now.”
    “Undress me.”
    She smiled, reveling in the huskiness of his voice. Experience told her that tone meant that he was trying, in vain, to hold onto his self-control. After peeling his clothes off slowly, she straddled his waist, locking her eyes with his. Last time, he had sex with a nameless, faceless stranger. This time, she wanted to make sure he was making love to