Chapter Fourteen
Being there alone with Ella was pure torture. The best kind of torture, of course. The sweetest torture Donovan could imagine. But being this close to her, in her cozy living room on a couch that was made for making out on, drinking the intoxicatingly warm and potent alcoholic hot cocoa she’d made…well, damn. That was a combination that even the strongest man would’ve found hard to resist, and he’d never claimed to be the strongest man.
If only he knew that it wouldn’t hurt her in some deep way if he leaned forward and kissed her, that she wouldn’t feel betrayed by the one stable male presence in her life, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But how could he possibly ever know a thing like that?
Her safety, emotional and otherwise, meant more to him than his fulfillment. So, if that had to mean a lifetime of sacrifice, it was worth it to protect her.
He’d already let his parents down, and they’d paid the ultimate price. Then he’d let Troy and Mila down, and now Mila was growing up without him. There was no way he was going to let Ella down, too.
She reached out and touched his forearm, a playful smile working its way across her lips. “I have an idea.”
The way she said it was unlike anything she’d ever said to him before. It was mysterious and held a depth of promise that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He searched her eyes looking for an answer, and he saw the flicker that told him things were about to change between them. He felt it like a punch in the gut, it knocked the wind out of him.
Voice hoarse, he said, “What’s your idea?”
She bit her lip. “Let’s play a game.”
Fuck. Her voice was low and sultry, and between her words and her tone, he was hard as a rock. “What kind of game?”
She tilted her head to the side and studied his face. “The kind where we get to know each other better.”
Donovan could barely catch his breath by that point. They knew each other as well as two people could, in most ways. In pretty much every way, in fact. Except one.
Fuck. He was all in. “Sounds good.”
A broad grin spread slowly and seductively across her lips, and he got just a little harder with each new millimeter that it grew. “Have you ever seen an episode of Watch What Happens Live?”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“It’s like a talk show, kind of. Well, anyway, on this show they play a game called Plead the Fifth. The guest gets asked three questions and they can plead the fifth to one of them. They don’t have to, though. The main thing is, they have to answer at least two of the questions. Honestly and completely.”
“I like where this is going.”
“So, what do you think? Do you want to play?”
“Depends on if those count as two of the questions or not.”
Ella smacked his shoulder. “You wish.”
Donovan winked. “Actually I don’t.”
She flushed and her eyes widened.
Shit, was this really going to happen? If he hadn’t thought it would ruin the mood too much, he would’ve stopped and pinched himself to make sure this wasn’t one of the many, many dreams he’d had over the years about being with Ella.
Fuck. Being with Ella. The images that those words conjured up almost did him in. His arms around her soft curves, holding her warmth against his body. His lips crushed to hers. His tongue exploring her mouth. Her, moaning as his hands roamed over her supple body.
His head swam with the sexy images, and he decided to take control of the situation.
“Okay. I’ll ask the first question,” he said, his voice low and commanding.
She drew in a sharp breath and replied, “Fire away.”
He considered his words carefully. Who knew how long this would go on until she lost her nerve, or his urges became too strong. He had to choose his question wisely. He had to ask her the thing that he really wanted to know before the opportunity evaporated.
“All right. Tell me, Miss Fletcher. What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”
She bit her lip, an adorable habit she’d always had, one that had always made him want to press his mouth to hers and suck that lower lip gently out from between her teeth. He tried to stay focused, to not get distracted by how turned on the mannerism got him. After all, he’d just asked her to describe the best sex she’d ever had. He didn’t want his mind to be wandering during her answer.
“I’m not quite sure how to answer that,” she whispered, and the combination of her soft, tentative voice and flushed skin was so damn enticing that he had to physically strain to keep his hands at his side.
He gave her a devil may care smirk, working hard to show how blasé he was. How little he was being affected by the situation, even if the truth was the exact opposite. “With the truth.”
She laughed and looked down at her fingers in her lap, which she had self-consciously tangled together. Without looking back up to meet his eyes, she explained, “No. I mean… The reason why I don’t know how to answer the question is because the best sex I ever had wasn’t actual sex.”
“I’m gonna need a little more than that,” he growled.
She grabbed her mug of alcoholic cocoa up from the coffee table and downed it all in one desperate gulp. Fortified with that warm liquid courage, she raised her head and gazed directly into his eyes and said, “It was a dream. It was a dream I had about me and you.”
Her words hit him like a freight train. He couldn’t wrap his mind around them. Not only did she have a sex dream about him, but it was the best sex she ever had?
Fuck.
“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna need details. Lots and lots of details.”
Her hands trembled, and it seemed that her entire body was engulfed in one giant blush, but her voice was clear and even when she said, “It was the night of our so-called wedding, actually, which is ironic, if you think about it, since that little event is actually the reason you’re sitting here right now.
“I don’t know how to put into words why it was so hot, why it moved me so much. Rocked me to my core really. But it did.”
His throat was so tight with arousal that choking out the words was almost too much, but he did it. “Tell me what happened.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “It’s really just series of flashes. All I know is that we’re in a smallish room. No bed or anything and I’m…um…pressed up against the wall…”
“Facing away from me while I take you from behind,” he finished for her. “Your clothes are still on, bunched up around your hips.”
Her eyes were round saucers. “How did you…how could you possibly know that?”
“Because I had that same dream, on the same night. And it’s always been the best I’ve ever had, too, even though it was only a dream. Except now I’m thinking…it probably wasn’t.”