Catch My Breath (11 page)

The small tremble in his voice shook me to the core. There it was again, the flash of vulnerability. A hot, salty lump formed in my throat.

“My ex-boyfriend is a controlling, possessive bastard who stalks me,” I blurted out. “I was nothing more than an accessory to him; someone to control and decorate with fancy dresses and sparkling jewelry and use for sex only when he deemed it necessary.” My soul laid naked on the floor, shocked that it was released so haphazardly.

Alastair’s body stiffened. He loosened my grip on him, looking up at me. He sat so quietly and still, I wasn’t sure he was even breathing. Discomfort filled every muscle and cell in my body.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Not physically.”

I still couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking. His expression was so blank. Being caught between his thighs wasn’t very comfortable anymore.

“What’s his name?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” he hissed. “Tell me his name.”

“No. I’ve had enough of people telling me what to do.” I pushed away from him, walking to the center of the room. Seconds later, a hand grasped my shoulder. I spun around, knocking Alastair’s arm away. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m only trying to help.”

“You really want to help me? Forget this guy exists.”

“Lia, you’re shaking,” he whispered, reaching for my hand. Closing my eyes, I let him slide his fingers through mine. His touch had become a soothing balm, which as much as I hated to admit, I needed. The warmth of his body surrounded me as he held me. I needed to be closer. I needed to touch him. Resting my head against his chest, I ran my fingers along the waistband of his jeans, sliding them up beneath his sweater. He sighed when I made contact with the skin at the small of his back, a low moan vibrating in his throat.

How could he be so comforting and so frustrating? I wanted to believe that I’d seen more of who he really was than anyone. I lost myself in the increased rhythm of his heartbeat and deep, heavy breaths. Nuzzling his nose into my neck, he whispered something unintelligible on my skin. As I lifted my head, his lips met mine. I ached for him, craving his touch. I sighed into his lush kiss, melting in his arms.

Sliding his hands over my hips, he snuck them under my shirt. My skin welcomed his touch, warming immediately. It was a rush, a frisson of excitement that sent tremors through me. He groaned, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, biting it gently.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, pulling my hips into him. The friction from his arousal rubbing against me made me gasp.

“Why?”

“This look you have right now,” he growled. “Flushed cheeks with gleaming eyes. This is how you looked when we met. Do you know how hard it is to control myself when you look like this?”

“Keep kissing me.” I didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice. It was so low and breathy.

Alastair looked me in the eye steadily. I held his electric gaze, not breathing. He crushed his lips to mine, banding his arms under my backside and lifting me off the floor. I was barely aware of the movement. I sank into the plush softness of the mattress as he laid me on his bed. Hovering over me, he dragged his eyes down my body.

He lowered his head, kissing the crook of my neck while unbuttoning my jeans. I tilted my hips up so he could pull them off without much difficulty. Pressing his lips and tongue harder on my neck, he sucked a soft patch of skin into his mouth.

"Are you trying to mark me?" I buried my fingers in his thick hair. His only response was a muffled grunt. As good as it felt, I wanted his mouth somewhere else.

He traced his fingers along the edge of my lace boy shorts. “This,” he whispered, inching his finger along the thin material, “is too wet to stay on.” My toes curled as he deftly ripped it off.

“We should— oh my God!”

He slipped a finger inside me so quickly I lost my train of thought and all command of language.

“It’s my turn to take you by surprise, love.” His stare was fiercely sensual and dark. “We should what? Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” I moaned while he slid his finger in and out, excruciatingly slowly. Clasping his shoulders, I focused on nothing but his touch. A second finger joined the unhurried, rhythmic movements of the one already tantalizing me. As he massaged me, my eyelids fluttered closed.

“Look at me,” Alastair ordered thickly. I snapped my head up and held his dominating stare. It was all too much; his eyes, his fingers, his ragged breathing. I closed them again.

“Open. Your. Eyes.”

His breath tickled my ear, awakening parts of me I didn’t know existed. My lids popped open. He kissed me, curling his fingers.

All my muscles clenched viciously. I gasped, breaking our mouths apart. His eyes glittered a vibrant green as he watched me lose myself in him. The delicious, warm climb that I hadn’t felt in ages ravaged me. Pressing his cheek to mine, he stroked my inner thigh. “Don’t come yet.”

I writhed beneath him as he repositioned himself between my legs. The second his tongue flicked against my hypersensitive skin I jerked my hips up. He splayed his fingers across my stomach, holding me down. A slow burn spread through me, blossoming out from where he expertly worked me with his mouth. I clawed at the sheets.

“Alastair.” I arched my back, rolling my hips.

Hooking his arms under my thighs, he clamped his hands down on my legs, preventing any further movement. I dug my heels into the mattress. The velvet warmth of his tongue entered me once, twice, then withdrew, circling my clit. He sealed his mouth against it, sucking softly. The exquisite sensation seared me. I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled. He sucked harder, setting off an orgasm so powerful I launched myself backwards and smacked into the headboard.

He wouldn’t stop. I tensed and shook with anticipation before descending into another fuzzy oblivion, moaning his name. Euphoria trickled through me, relaxing each and every muscle. I sank further into the bed, enjoying the soft kisses he placed along each inner thigh and up to my stomach.

The heaviness of his body surrounded me. Pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of my shoulders, he lowered his head so his face was inches from mine.

“That sounded like it hurt,” he grinned lazily.

“What?” I looked at his amused expression, totally baffled.

He rapped his knuckles on the headboard before stretching out next to me. “That was a pretty big whack. I hope you don’t get a lump.”

“I…this…are you seriously making fun of me right now?” I rolled over to face him.

“Not at all,” he answered, kissing my nose. “You okay, love?”

“I’m fine.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You should really come with a warning label. ‘May cause embarrassing, uncharacteristic episodes.’”

The bed shook from his laughter. I could only fight back my own giggles for a few seconds before I joined him. I savored this moment, reveling in his sexy playfulness. Tiny slivers of insecurity tried to spoil the delicious morsels of pleasure that still flowed through my body. Alastair lay quiet next to me, his laughter subsiding into a satisfied smile.

“You’re staring.”

“Am I?” I propped my head up in my hand. “Your eyes are closed. I could be making a face at you for all you know.”

“I know everything, kitten.” Moving fast, he pinned me on my back, sitting on my legs with his hands at my waist. His mischievous stare was scintillating.

“Alastair Holden, don’t you
dare
.”

He smiled so widely I was afraid his face would split in two. God, I loved the way he looked poised above me, ready for anything. I squealed in shock at the quick squeeze on my waist.

“There’s that look again.”

“What are you going to do? Tickle it off my face?” I smirked.

Dipping his head so our noses touched, he grinned. “I’ll save that for another time.” He leaned back, climbing off me to sit. I pushed myself up so we faced each other, our knees touching.

My brush with euphoria dissipated the second I saw his expression. He was pale. The frantic thumping of my heart ceased.

“What are you doing to me?” He directed his question more toward the mattress than me.

“Excuse me?”

“You make me…” he said, his eyes widening.

“What? I make you what?” I swallowed back a healthy dose of fear.

He clasped his stomach and for a minute I thought he might be sick. I didn’t know where to look or what to do. I tried not to let my mind race again, but he looked so lost.

“I booked you on a flight in case you were wondering.”

He switched gears so fast, I half expected to get whiplash.

“Right,” I said quietly. “On your plane.”

“No. A commercial airliner. It leaves in the morning. I can— Lia, it’s done. No arguments. I can drop you off at the airport on my way to work.”

I folded my arms, marveling at how he switched from hot to cold and back with almost zero effort. "Fine. Thank you."

“You’re welcome. Sleeping arrangements, then. You can have my bed again and I'll camp out in my office."

What? A streak of desperation surged through me. “You’re not staying with me?”

He didn’t answer right away, which sent me back into panic mode. I rubbed my head to quiet the dull ache.

“I’ll stay,” he murmured, avoiding my gaze. The nagging sliver of insecurity gained some momentum. I became acutely aware that I was naked from the waist down and my underwear was in pieces somewhere on the floor.

“Um, I just need to get some pants or something,” I muttered, getting off the bed. Rummaging through the suitcase, I grabbed the first thing I touched. Gray yoga pants. Jackpot.

I crawled under the blankets, waiting for him to join me. The bed shifted as he moved closer, curling up next to me. Ignoring an impulse to wrap myself around him, I folded my arms up under the pillow instead.

“Thank you for letting me stay here. I um, I hope I haven’t been too much of a burden.”

“My pleasure,” he said, brushing his knuckles down my cheek. “And you’ve not been a burden.”

"Next time you're in the States, you'll have to come to Orlando."

“Would you like that?” he asked, almost with a touch of uncertainty.

“Yes.”

He stared at me, expressionless, a hazy film covering his eyes. My heart twisted.
He’s withdrawing again.
He sighed, pulling me flush against his chest. Sliding his hand over my waist, he rested it on my backside. I hooked my leg between his, fitting with him like a puzzle piece. We were intertwined in such a way that there was no telling where he ended and I began.

“Sleep, my Lia. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

* * *

Whimpering and moaning filled the room. Rousing from sleep, I found most of my face buried in a thick mass of dark red hair. Alastair’s head was nestled on my chest, his body blanketing me with warmth. The grip he had on me was borderline uncomfortable. I attempted to reposition myself without disturbing him too much.

He whined, strengthening his hold. “You always
leave
.”

I moved again, trying to free myself. His fingers dug into my back. I pressed my hand against his chest, gently pushing him away.

“
No.
Don’t leave,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “It was my fault.”

Shit. He’s dreaming.

He continued muttering incoherently, becoming more frantic. I was afraid to wake him in the throes of a nightmare but he was crushing me.

“Alastair,” I whispered. “Wake up. Please.”

“
DON’T LEAVE!
I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
I’m sorry!
”

He pushed away from me, sitting up gasping. I scrambled to the edge of the bed. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, casting a pallid glow on the sheen of sweat covering him. The t-shirt he had on stuck to his damp skin. His breathing was harsh and ragged. An overwhelming urge to comfort him flowed through me.

I sat up, keeping my eyes glued to him. He stared straight ahead, his eyes still smoky with sleep. The sheets were fisted in his hands. A few moments later, full consciousness took control. He inhaled deeply and looked at me. Tears stained his face, breaking my heart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “You’ve had one hell of a nightmare.”

“Oh.” The muscles in his jaw twitched. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Want to tell me about it?”

“No.” He threw off the blankets and stormed out of the room.

His reaction left me stunned for a minute. I was about to follow him, when he came back in with a glass of water. He drank a bit then slid under the covers. Nothing about his demeanor revealed that he’d been crying out in his sleep. The tear-stains were gone along with any signs of distress. He was the same calm, cool-as-ice guy as always. I climbed back into bed and crawled closer to him, hugging into his body. I kissed along his neck and jaw, before pressing my lips to his forehead.

“Hey.” He tangled his fingers through my hair. “What’s wrong?”

I looked into his tired, questioning eyes. I could only imagine how many nights he’d woken up alone, screaming in the dark.

“Nothing.” I kissed him. He rolled us over, the weight of his body pressing me into the mattress. He nuzzled into my neck before leaning his cheek to mine.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered, wrapping himself around me protectively. I held him close, stroking his hair. He blew a shaky sigh against my neck before relaxing into my embrace. I whispered to him until his breathing became slow and heavy. The peace and refuge of sleep dissolved any veiled edge his face held when he was awake.
How many people have seen him this way? Unguarded and vulnerable.

I watched him sleep until the first rays of sunlight poked through the windows.

CHAPTER NINE

Telephones rang in a disjointed symphony, a cacophony of sound so jarring it could wake the dead. I glanced up from my computer and stared out into the newsroom. It was the second week of May and we were in the middle of a breaking story.