SHIVER (25 page)

His chest rose and fell like bellows as he slowly stroked inside her, savoring each inch of penetration as her inner muscles clenched around his hardness, gripping him in a snare he never wanted to be released from. He’d come home. She was the one. Had always been the one. He settled deeper inside her and held her there, never wanting the moment to end. His eyes met hers, and he saw the emotions churning inside him reflected there. Slowly he leaned down and lightly kissed her lips, caressing the side of her face with his fingers, all the while continuing to stroke in and out. In and out.

Her hands trembled as they, in turn, traced the features of his face, his chest, the tight muscles of his abs. Her eyes searching his. “Make me fly,” she said, humbling him. “One more time, Aidan. Make me fly.”

Tears clogged his throat, and he had to swallow rapidly in order not to disgrace himself. He traced his hand down her side, until the heat of his palm covered her tattoo of the raven. His raven. Always his.

“Yes,” she hissed, her nails digging into the sun on his hip. Both images perfectly aligned, her raven carrying his sun, cradling him within her wings. She arched her hips, taking him deeper, meeting his thrusts as they quickened, hardened. Aidan reached out and grabbed her other hand, tightly lacing his fingers with hers, as he rocked into her again and again until she cried out and took flight.

He followed, carried on her wings.

The problem with flying, Raven decided, was that at some point you had to land. She’d never been good at smooth landings. More like crash landings. It didn’t take long for reality to raise its ugly head and demand to know what the hell she’d done.

The room was cast in shadows as the sun readied for its early bedtime. She hated the long, dark winters, the short hours the sun showed itself.

Raven lay on her side within Aidan’s protective embrace, his arm wrapped around her back as her head rested on his chest, her leg draped over his. What she would give to have nothing between them. To be able to lay with him like this every night, wake in his arms, soar in his arms.

Obviously she had no willpower around him. Hard to keep her barriers in place when she was the one widening the cracks between the mortar. She really needed to get dressed and get going, but lying next to Aidan felt so…so…right.

Boy was she in an avalanche’s worth of trouble. She couldn’t fall in love with him again. A rush of heat swept over her followed by a bone chilling realization. Had she ever stopped loving him?

Oh, God, she had to get away.

“Done beating yourself up, yet?” Aidan asked in his husky, sexy, sated voice.

How she used to treasure talking with him after making love. Listening to that voice, which seemed to caress her all over again as they made plans, spoke of dreams.

“I need to go.” But she didn’t move. His hand stroked up and down her arm in a lazy pattern. If only they could take another flight. But that would make matters worse. She needed to stay grounded.

“I know.” He didn’t move either, just continued caressing her arm. “Fox will be getting home from school soon.”

Oh, God. Fox. The ticking clock felt like it had a bomb attached, and she was out of time. Her son was the reason she’d rushed over here. She still didn’t know exactly what she wanted to say to Aidan. There was one thing she had to get him to agree to before she left. “I need you to keep quiet about being Fox’s father until I can talk to him.”

Aidan’s hand stopped its downward path and he slowly turned on his side to face her. “Raven, Fox already knows.”

What?
“You told him?
Oh, no.” She pushed out of his arms, and grabbed for her clothes. “How could you do that? How did he react?
When did you tell him?”
Questions fired like bullets while she yanked on her clothes.

Aidan gingerly sat up in bed, his hand holding his head. It clearly still pained him, but she couldn’t think about that now. All that mattered was Fox.

“Raven, I didn’t tell him.”

She popped her head through the top of her t-shirt, tugging it down over her hips, and met his gaze. “How else would he know?”

Aidan closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them she felt his unease. “I think you’d better sit down.”

His tone, combined with the look on his face, had her slowing her movements as she slipped into her jeans and buttoned them. Raven sat on the edge of the bed, knowing she wasn’t going to like hearing whatever Aidan was about to tell her.

“Fox was the one who told
me
I was his father.”

Just like that, the bomb detonated inside her. She couldn’t speak as the static in her head drowned out all other noise.

“Raven?” Aidan called her name, but it sounded as if it came from a far off place.

Her vision blurred as the static turned to a shrill, and then a loud banging, as white lights flashed in tiny sparks before her eyes.

Her world tipped.

“Raven.”
Aidan had her by the shoulders and was shaking her.

Breathe, damn it.
She couldn’t fall apart now, not when she had so much to—somehow—put back together. “I’m okay,” she lied. Would she ever be okay again?

“Are you sure? You’re pale as snow.” Aidan gazed at her with such concern, it made her want to lean on him, rest her heavy head on his broad shoulders.

“Did Fox tell you—” She had to pause in order to swallow the sick feeling in her stomach rising up into her throat. “Did he tell you how he knew?” Her boy, her baby, hadn’t come to her with this? Hadn’t asked
her
if Aidan was his father? Instead, he’d gone to the source. Which really didn’t surprise her. Hurt her, yes, but didn’t surprise her. Fox had always been one to tackle problems head on, rather than take the time Raven needed to sort out the best course of action.

Aidan enclosed her hands in his, anguish dwelling in the dark depths of his eyes. “Earl told him…when he was seven.”

Time stopped. The room spun and went deadly quiet except for the sound of her agonized breathing.

Fox had known since he’d been seven?

“How the hell did Earl know?” she cried out. Her worst nightmare unveiled and it had happened
four years ago.

“He guessed. Apparently, Fox is the spitting image of me when I was a boy.”

“I gotta get out of here.” She jumped off the bed and slipped her bare feet into her mukluks. “I have to talk to Fox.”

“Raven, wait. We’ll talk to him together.” Aidan threw back the covers, his gorgeous nude body causing her to catch her breath for a moment. The reality of what they’d just done stabbed before she could get a hold of herself. Everything was spinning out of control.

“No.” Fox was
her
son.
She
needed to talk to him.
Alone.
Raven tore out of the bedroom, ignoring Aidan swearing behind her.

“Damn it, Raven.” Aidan grabbed her arm and swung her around as she reached for her coat. He hadn’t stopped to dress, standing there in all his glorious nakedness. “You aren’t keeping me out of this.” His eyes burned with intent. “He’s my son too.”

She didn’t want to share Fox. How did she deal with this? She needed more time.

Aidan gripped her shoulders. “Quit fighting it, Raven. You’re caught in a snare with no way out.”

Oh God, he was right. She was trapped like an animal left to struggle until someone came along and ended it. Suddenly everything was all too much. Her shoulders sagged, and her legs gave out as a sob escaped her.

Aidan helped her to a chair and lowered her onto the torn cushion. “Let me get dressed. Stay right there.”

Raven wiped at the tears trailing down her cheeks, taking rapid breaths, hoping to get herself under control before he returned. With what seemed like mere seconds, Aidan was back fully dressed and slipping into his coat. She watched his movements, noticing the beauty in which he moved. Maybe if she focused on him everything else would fade away.

What was she doing? She wasn’t some weak female. Where was her backbone? Her life had taken a hit, unquestionably, but she’d taken hits before. Granted this one involved her son, and all that she presumed to know about him, but she was his mother. She’d raised him. She could handle this.

What other choice did she have?

“Ready?” Aidan asked.

Raven nodded, stood, and walked out of Earl Harte’s cabin with Aidan at her side, his hand on her elbow as though loaning her strength or staying close in case she crumbled. He guided her to her Suburban and opened the passenger door.

“Get in.”

She didn’t move. “If you have to come, you’ll drive yourself.”

“You’re in no condition to drive.” He tightened his jaw in a no-nonsense action.

“Like you are?” She indicated his head, seeing the lingering pain in his eyes. “You’ve been bashed in the head. I bet it’s pounding like a jackhammer.”

“Yeah, and the longer we stand out here and argue about something you are going to lose, the more it pounds.” He picked her up and tossed her onto the seat as though she weighed nothing. “Put on your seatbelt.” He slammed the door and walked around the front of the vehicle.

The surprise of his actions left her speechless until he got in the driver’s seat and held out his hand for the keys. “How are you going to get back?” She wasn’t driving him back out here. He had another thing coming if he thought he could stay at her place just because they’d had sex.

“Let me worry about that. Now, hand over the keys.”

She stared into his eyes and realized she was being an idiot. Her fear and hurt had transferred itself into anger as a way of surviving. The pain of knowing Fox had been aware of his paternity all this time, and had never talked with her about it, broke her heart. She reached into her coat pocket, pulled out the keys, and dropped them into his hand.

“Thank you,” he said graciously, and started the engine.

She didn’t need him being polite and gentlemanly. Where had his mad gone? An afternoon rolling around in bed couldn’t have snuffed out the anger she knew he still harbored over her lies.

This was getting her nowhere. She needed to concentrate on what she was going to say to Fox, not her situation with Aidan. Nothing mattered right now except her son.

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

Aidan glanced over at Raven. She sat like a block of ice, gazing out her window as he drove them to her house. She wasn’t seeing the frozen landscape—at least what little could be seen in the darkness. The news about Fox had hit her like a sucker punch to the gut. He doubted she’d caught her breath yet.

Much the way she’d stolen his this afternoon.

He was still angry, yet torn with the need to hold her, tell her everything would be okay, that together they could fix this. But how did he do that when she didn’t want his help and he didn’t know if he could forgive her lies? She didn’t want him in her life even after the incredible lovemaking they’d experienced this afternoon.

He tightened his jaw and then tried to relax the muscles as the action caused his head to pound harder. After they talked to Fox, he needed to find Pike. See if he’d noticed any suspicious characters around town. Someone had upped the ante this afternoon when they’d taken a swing at his head.

Aidan parked the suburban in Raven’s driveway and turned off the engine. He glanced at her and realized that at some point in their journey, she’d pulled it together. No longer did she look as though she’d collapse if another snag presented itself. He couldn’t help wonder, and envy, how she’d done it.

She turned to him, her eyes brimming with hurt, which had his gut clenching. “Since you’re insisting on being here, we need to agree on a plan of action,” she said.

Damn, but she was formidable. He never would have guessed that the teenager she’d been would have grown into such a capable, confident, independent woman. “Okay, how do you want to play it?”

She seemed taken aback at his easy agreement. Hell, she’d been a parent for almost twelve years. He’d only been one for a few days.