Of Love and Deception (36 page)

He pulled back and watched her as he slipped his hands down her neck, over her breasts, and slowly parted the unbuttoned shirt.

Daniella’s cheeks heated as his eyes fixated on her exposed breasts and her swollen abdomen. His fingers glided tenderly along the same path. He sat on the bed, drew her into him, and rested his head on her rounded tummy. In small circles, he stroked their baby.

“Damn, I’ve missed you,” he said with a hitch in his voice. He stood, resting his cheek against hers, his hands slid up her sides, over her shoulders and down her arms, pushing her shirt off.

“So damn beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm and minty, wisped seductively against her ear, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Then he stepped back. “Mm,” he groaned.

His lips were soft and warm—she accepted them the moment they touched hers. He turned a little, opened his mouth a little, teasing in a way, but not purposely, and she drew his face closer, needing more. He combed his fingers through her hair, controlling each movement and turned her head whichever direction he chose. He pulled back to catch his breath and stared at her.

Daniella stood silently observing him as he shucked his shirt, and kicked off his jeans, boxers included. A nervous excitement pulsed through her and tickled sensitive spots. As Cruz closed the distance between them, he captured her mouth in the sweet bliss of a deep kiss. A kiss she remembered. A kiss she desperately missed. Without pretense or defense, she surrendered, letting him take full ownership of her body, soul included as he pulled her onto the bed, both on their knees facing each other.

 Cruz’s eyes ran the length of her, head to knees and back to her eyes. “You’re so damn beautiful.” Inhaling deeply, he ran his tongue back up her neck, across her cheek and then licked her lips. He sucked her bottom lip into his and reclaimed her mouth with sweet seductive plunges. He caressed her, and she clung to him, loving the strength of him as he curled one arm around her waist and stroked her with the other. He was careful not to be too aggressive and
his touch was like no other, calming the darkness, soothing her soul, making her feel whole, complete, and… happy.

He moved behind her, both still on their knees, and drew her arms up, his fingers feathering along her skin until he locked her hands around his neck. Her head against his chest, his lips against her ear, his digits trailing down her arms, she shivered. He drew her tighter against him, examining with his hands, and touching her softly. His knees between hers, spreading them further apart, dragging his finger slowly between her thighs, up, down, up, down and pushing one, and then two inside of her.  

She didn’t speak—her mouth was incapable of forming comprehendible words. It was the beating passion, the way
he touched her and where he touched her, the gentle but deep pressure he created as he slowly pressed into her. Then his mouth was against the shell of her ear and a primal sound, so deep, so male, and so sexy came from his lips.

He stilled, and slowly dragged his hands along her thighs, between them, over her hips, abdomen, across her chest where he crossed his arms and whispered, “Nobody loves you like I do.”

Before she could respond, he pushed inside of her with slow, but deep thrusts that penetrated, and he impaled her over and over again.

Sensations long buried resurfaced, assaulting and paralyzing her as pleasure overflowed and begged for release. Her entire body quivered and shuddered around him. The intensity of it stopped him. He made a sound, a deep drawn out moan and pressed his mouth against her ear. “You feel so good. I’ve missed your body… making love to you.”

 He squeezed her breasts and thrust forward again so hard her whole body shifted and trembled, but he stilled against her, his face pressed into her neck, his voice husky when he said, “I need you on top so I can see you while we fall apart together.” The warmth of his body was gone and resurfaced as he now lay below her, slipping inside of her as she straddled him.

The pressure built and her vision went spotty. She rolled her head back and closed her eyes. Images of Cruz continually flashed, but it wasn’t his physical image she saw. All the features were his, but he was white as clay with wings of an angelic figurine. Each gentle pump of his hips heightened the vision, the sensation, the deeply rooted love she had for him and only him… pleasure poured through her.

Cruz sat up and brought Daniella back to reality. She opened her eyes, and he greeted her with a wide-open stare. He pushed the damp strands of hair, clinging to her sweaty forehead, back.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked and shifted his hips in a way that caused her to shudder.

Daniella whispered, “I’m seeing this white image and as I get closer, I see its wings and it’s an angel… and… that angel is you.” She gave a slight smile.

Cruz grinned. “I am an angel...
your
angel, and
you’re
mine.” He shifted his position.

She cried out, “And… and I love you more than any… anything.”

Every sway of his hips and the way he grinded her body against his caused words to fumble from her parted lips. “Cruz… god, Cruz.” Her eyes closed and her head fell back. She could stay in this moment, the sweet pleasures he created within her—they were both like an ocean—deep, swimming and crashing currents of emotions.

“Come back to me. Baby, look at me.” He slipped his hands around her neck and pushed them into her hair, then nudged the back of her head and coaxed her to look at him.

Sweat trickled down her forehead and blended with her tears. She gave him a smile and leaned into his chest as he pushed deep inside of her and caused her to cry out in pure pleasure. The trembling of his body and loud moans reassured her that he too, fell apart and that he loved her as much as she loved him.

Daniella pushed back when Cruz fell into the pillows, attempting to pull her down with him.

She looked down at her rounded belly. “I can’t.”

“Sorry.” He sat up and placed his hands over her abdomen, observing the protruding bump between them. He hugged her tighter and rolled her onto her back.

Resting beside her, holding her close, he brushed the hair away from her face before placing his lips to hers.

It wasn’t long before they both passed out, but stayed in a warm embrace throughout the night.

27 - My Everything

Warm fuzzy feelings wrapped around Daniella’s heart. Sunlight flooded their room, and she blinked several times to adjust to the bright light. She stretched each limb and rested her hands on her belly, enjoying the sensation of little heels and elbows stirring about. Cruz wasn’t beside her to share the moment, but she could hear a ruckus in the kitchen of pots and pans. And voices?

Climbing out of bed, paying close attention to the voices, Daniella instantly recognized the man’s deep tone. She rushed to the bathroom, raked a brush through her tangled hair, brushed her teeth and then went back to the room to put on some clothes. But there was a problem. She didn’t have any clothes, other than the outfit she wore yesterday. They were all at the apartment.
Crap!
She rummaged in Cruz’s dresser and pulled a navy blue T-shirt over her head and slipped into a pair of boxers, which would have been too big, but her expanding belly held them in place.

Standing in the entryway, Daniella watched the commotion of her mother, father and her long, lost brother, James, as they flipped pancakes, cooked bacon, and filled glasses with orange juice. A warm bubble of laughter erupted from her chest when James turned around to find her watching them.

“Little Sister!” he gleamed and rushed over to embrace her in a tight hug. “Whoa there. I forgot about my nephew in there.” He kneeled down and touched her belly. “Hey there, little mister. Uncle James can’t wait to meet you.”

“Or niece, James. We don’t know the sex.” Daniella rubbed her knuckles against her brother’s head.

“Dang it. I hate when you do that,” James scowled as he ruffled his hair and pushed himself up. His breath hitched and he stared at Daniella’s face. Reaching up, he traced what remained of her bruises. The lines in his forehead deepened and his eyes burned with anger. “If I were there, I would have killed them both with my bare hands.”

Daniella’s cheerful beginning faded as the horror of last week came flooding back. She hadn’t wanted to remember any of it. She wanted to go out back, dig a very large hole, and bury all of those distressful memories. Instead, she caved in, sobs escaping her and tears flooding her cheeks. Cruz came from behind, wrapped his arms around her and sat her down on the couch.

“Dammit, James. Did you have to get her all upset again? She’s barely been able to sleep without nightmares and here you are dredging it all back up again.”

“You son-of-a-bitch!” James spat, and stepped forward, waving his fist at Cruz. “What kind of fucking husband deserts his wife because some psychopathic bitch spills him a bunch of shitfuck lies?”

“Who the hell are you to say anything? Other than our wedding, you’ve had no contact with your only sister, you little—”

“I outta kick your motherfucking ass!”

“STOP. Please. Just stop. It’s nobody’s fault. Can’t… can’t we just be family, and… and be happy we’re all here and alive? Please?” Daniella curled up against Cruz, and patted the empty spot on the couch next to her, coaxing James to sit. After much hesitation, he let out a heavy sigh and sat next to her.

Daniella’s parents emerged, arms crossed, and threatening scowls on their faces.

“If it weren’t for your sister,” Mr. Kurtz glared at James, and then at Cruz, “and your wife, I’d take both of you out back and beat some sense into your testosterone filled heads. You’re both grown men for Christ-sake. Act like it.”

“The hospital psychologist said I should talk about what happened. That it would be therapeutic,” Daniella said softly. Not that she wanted to rehash the recent accounts, but if it would bring peace not only to her body and soul, but to Cruz and her family, then she wanted to let it all out.

James leaned in and whispered, “Not in front of Mom. She won’t be able to handle it.”

Daniella nodded. “Is breakfast ready? We’re starving.” She smiled and rubbed her belly.

~~~

The rest of the day went smoothly. James and Cruz shook hands and apologized. After her parents left, Daniella rehashed the horrible things Meg did and how Meg was never pregnant. Cruz turned ten shades of green when she spoke of Meg and her intentions to deliver the baby, and then pass it off as her own and Cruz’s.

James decided to leave after that. His mood shifted fiercely after discovering all that Meg and Blake had put Daniella through.

 ~~~

Thankful to finally be alone with Cruz, Daniella waited patiently for him to retrieve his keys and wallet.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise, sweetheart.” He held out his hand. “Ready to go?”

“Mmm.”

They drove along the coast where the tang of salt water settled into the evening breeze. Daniella let her head fall back against the headrest, her hair blowing to and fro. The warmth of the sunset kissing her skin reminded her of her first date with Cruz. Even his hand rested over hers, just as it had back then. She closed her eyes and let warm memories take her away.

Thirty minutes later, the hum of the road and vibrations of the car came to a halt. Cruz’s warm breath curled around her ear as he whispered, “Baby, wake up. We’re here.”

“Hmm.” She turned toward Cruz, pressed her palm against his cheek, and greeted him with a heartfelt smile and then a tender kiss.

“Hmm is right. I want more of that, much, much more.” He grinned. “You ready to take a peek?”

“Yes.” She sat up. “Oh my gosh. Did… did you rent this place?”

Sliding out of his seat, and rounding the car to open her door, he took her hands to lift her up, and wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her toward a beautiful, but simple ocean front cabin.

“No, sweetheart, I thought we could use a nice getaway home of our own,” Cruz said as he guided her through the front door and into a very spacious living room with an open kitchen off to the left. Burnt leather couches and a matching rocker furnished the living room. A toffee colored bearskin rug covered the hardwood floor in front of a glass fireplace.

“Holy crap, Cruz. I won’t ever want to go home now,” she gushed, and gushed further over their bedroom and the nursery. The four-poster bed was made of logs, and so was the baby furniture in the nursery. The layette was all white, and contrasted well with the wooden crib and accessories.

As the sun died down, Daniella and Cruz walked along the ocean shore, ripples of water lapping at their feet. Even though Daniella wanted to go back to the cabin to try out their new bed, Cruz had a different plan. He had a rather large netted tent situated over a plump air mattress already covered with blankets and pillows.

They climbed in and cuddled, her back to his chest, legs intertwined, his arm draped over her pregnant belly, fingers lightly stroking back and forth.

“Cruz?”

“Hmm?”

“I was wondering… about the day I was rescued.” She fidgeted with his fingers, not wanting to upset him with her question, but her heart was unsettled.

“What is it?” He kissed and nibbled along her ear.

“I don’t know. Nothing important, I guess.”

He stopped nibbling and rolled her to her back. Staring down at her, now running his fingers lightly along her cheek, he said, “Talk to me. Ask away.”

“What took you so long to get to the helicopter? I mean, I guess I thought you would be right there when they lowered me down to the gurney, and—”

“Oh, baby. I wanted to be there, but they escorted me back to the cabin. Do you really want to hear this?” His eyes searched hers, and she could see the worry spread across his handsome face.

“I know it’s not much, but I’d feel settled, or maybe closure if you’d share what went on. I mean… Falcon?” Stretching her arms up, she cupped his cheeks and held his gaze. “Please?”

“Alright, but stop me if you change your mind or it gets to be too much, okay?”