Chapter
SEVENTEEN
Pain and Warren’s arms were the only real things in the world. She was aware of him barking orders at his sons, then lowering her into the passenger seat of his car.
He got into the driver’s seat and dug through her bag for a bottle of pain meds. Though they both knew it was too late for the meds to be effective, Julia accepted the two pills he held out to her. He cracked open a bottle of water, handing it to her before he started the car.
Blissful silence followed. He didn’t speak, knowing noise exacerbated her headaches. He drove to her house and helped her into the bedroom. Julia barely managed to kick off her shoes before falling onto the bed.
Her nausea worsened, pitching in her stomach like a stormy sea. The headache had won, killing off any relieving effects the medication might have had. Excruciating pain stabbed both her eyes, radiating into her neck. She pressed her face into the pillow and tried to breathe past the sobs choking her throat.
“Julia.”
His voice washed over her. She gripped the pillow, tried to speak, both desperately relieved that he was here and wishing he’d go away. The bed shifted with his weight, and then his hands settled on her hair, his fingers resting against her temples.
“Do you have any other meds?” He spoke quietly.
She managed to shake her head. The stroke of his fingers on her temples didn’t ease the pain, but the rhythmic movement soothed her. He moved his hands down to her neck, finding the pulse points at the base. He applied a steady, hard pressure, even when she moaned in protest.
Part of her welcomed the different kind of pain; it might provide even a slight relief. Two years ago, when her headaches had worsened with the onset of menopause, Warren had researched alternative therapies and taken classes on acupressure and massage in the hopes of being able to help her.
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Even through the black cloud of her headache, she couldn’t bear the thought that their public debacle might have ruined everything. That they could never go back to the way things were. Everyone knew. Hailey’s expression burned Julia like a hot iron.
Warren dug harder into the points of her neck, then moved to her shoulders. He pushed and kneaded her strained muscles hard enough to hurt, though she continued to bear the pain in the hopes that it would loosen the grip of the headache.
“I’m taking your clothes off.” His voice spilled into her, his lips close to her ear. “Try not to move.”
He worked the zipper of her dress and slipped it off her shoulders. With a few quick, efficient movements, he removed her bra and panties, then pulled a cotton blanket over her. The relief from the constriction of her clothes made Julia curl into a ball like a cat. She pressed her hand to her head.
He massaged her spine, the warmth of his hands easing the dull, icy throb. She gave up, stopped thinking, let him take over. He threaded his fingers into her hair, rubbed her scalp with slow, deliberate strokes, then stroked her temples again, her cheekbones, her jaw. The certainty and strength of his touch alleviated the headache’s sharp edge, but the pain was relentless, stabbing her eyes, her forehead, clawing through her whole body.
He moved away from her. An inarticulate cry spilled from her throat. The shower started. He returned to lift her into his arms, carrying her into the shower. Fully clothed, he got under the spray with her and sat on the ledge. Cradling her against him, he directed the shower spray to the back of her head and neck. The full force of the hot water pounded against her muscles and tendons, loosening some of the awful tension.
She huddled against him, taking the strength he gave her. She lost track of how long they sat there, but eventually the water cooled. Warren lifted her again, dried her with a towel, and settled her back into bed. He tucked the blanket around her and rested a hand on her head.
“Try to sleep.”
He started to take his hand away. Panic shot through her. She managed to grab his wrist.
“Don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
A thousand painful years seemed to pass before he was climbing under the blanket behind her. He pulled her back against his bare chest, wrapping both arms around her as if he were protecting her from the onslaught.
Relief unfurled through Julia like ribbons. Her headache still had control, stifling her into immobility, but Warren was stronger than the pain. His warm, powerful presence calmed her fear, soothed her shattered thoughts, and finally sent her into the blissful oblivion of sleep.
Gray sunlight shone through the blinds. Julia blinked, wary of pulling herself into consciousness lest the pain was lurking and waiting again to attack.
But no. Aside from a slight lingering throb, the headache had retreated—conquered by time, her own defenses, and Warren’s forceful intervention. She shifted cautiously. Her body was sore, but the after-effects were a relief after the attack. Her back brushed against Warren’s solid chest. She turned to find him watching her, his brown eyes hooded, his expression grave.
Julia swallowed. Her throat was parched.
“Hi,” she whispered.
He ran his hand over her hip. “How do you feel?”
“Better.”
“I want you to see my doctor,” he said. “Find out about other medication options. The one you’re taking doesn’t work nearly well enough.”
“It works better if I take it sooner than I did.” She recalled why she hadn’t taken the meds sooner—because she’d been caught in the disaster of a public spectacle.
He frowned, as if he could see the memory descending over her. Was there anything he didn’t know or couldn’t sense about her? A dozen other questions crowded her mind—if he’d talked to Hailey and the boys, what had happened after they’d left, was everything okay…
She didn’t want answers. Not yet. She rose on one elbow and pressed her lips to his, wanting him to make the world disappear before everything else crowded back in on them.
Her heart clenched like a fist. She kissed him again, urged his lips apart. Crisp mint toothpaste and the warm, familiar taste of him, a comfort like no other.
Tension laced his shoulders. He lifted his head. She put her hand on his cheek, rubbed the coarse stubble of his beard.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I want… no, I need you.”
And she did—in more ways than she could name. She needed his strength, his loyalty, his concern, his friendship, his love. She needed the way he was the only person in the world who understood her even when she was being caustic and difficult.
She needed him to turn her failures and disappointments around in his big, capable hands, to help her look at them from different angles, listen to possible solutions. She needed the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the warm pleasure of the secret winks he sent only to her. She needed him always answering her calls and assuring her she could handle anything.
She needed their shared past. His knowledge of everything she’d been and everything she was now. She needed him knowing her better than anyone, better than she knew herself.
“Please,” she said.
He put his hands on either side of her head, spreading his fingers against her scalp. His eyes darkened to the color of the earth. Exactly like him—solid, unshakable, enduring. A mountain.
He pulled her closer, the touch of their lips warming her slowly, the burn of a candle. She stroked his chest, absorbed his strength. He trailed his lips over her cheek and ear, down to her neck, flicking his tongue out to lick the hollow of her throat. Pleasure streamed through her, banishing the last threads of pain. He rubbed her breasts, his breath hardening her nipples, awakening her arousal.
Erotic tension began to wind around them both. The air thickened. She ran her fingers over the map of his chest—the hard slopes of his pectoral muscles, down to the ridges of his abdomen and the trail of hair leading to his groin. She rose, pushing him gently onto his back and bringing her mouth down on his.
He tangled his hand in her hair as their lips met in a warm, lengthy advance and retreat—nibbling, tasting, licking. She slid down to kiss his neck, his chest, stroking her tongue down the indentation bisecting his abdomen. When she moved lower and took his half-hard cock in her hand, his fist tightened in her hair.
“Jules, you don’t have to…”
“I want to.” She opened her mouth and took him in, her body firing with heat at the purely male taste and scent of him.
“Ah, shit, that’s good…” A groan rumbled through his chest. His head fell back on the pillow.
Emboldened, Julia got to her knees and sucked him in deeper, tightening her lips around the base. He swelled deliciously in her mouth, the growing thickness of his shaft eliciting a surge of lust. She pressed her thighs together as her own body tingled and dampened in readiness for him. Oh, how she loved their responsiveness to each other, the way their bodies synced as if they knew instinctively what the other wanted and needed.
She licked his shaft, swirled her tongue around the swollen, damp head, and sucked him in again as far as she could. He stroked his hand over her back to her ass, then between her legs. Julia gasped, startling briefly at the sensation of his fingers probing her.
“Keep going.” With his other hand, he gently returned her attention to his cock.
She obeyed—because she liked obeying him—and tried to concentrate on pleasuring him even while he fingered her pussy with expert precision, fondling her labia, slipping his forefinger into her slit. She closed her eyes, opening her mouth to pull in a breath.
“I love that you get so fucking wet so fast.” His voice was rough, his body tense.
“It’s only…” she let out a moan and pushed her hips back to encourage the deeper penetration of his finger, “…only because of you. Oh, that feels good…”
“Your turn. I need to taste you.”
He shifted them so she was lying on her back, her legs open. Even now, she was astonished by the sense of freedom that came from being with him. They knew each other so well that, with them, there was only desire, excitement, love.
He moved between her legs, flicking his tongue over her clit, his breath puffing against her sensitive folds. Her breath caught, her body twitching and aching at the touch of his tongue. His chuckle vibrated through her as he clamped his hands on her thighs to hold her in place.
And then his tongue pressed harder, licking at her like candy, down and up, swirling over the pulsing knot of her arousal. Julia could hardly lie still, her hips thrusting like she wanted to impale herself on his tongue. Excitement flooded her with the force of a storm, filling her with heat and passion and that delicious, aching climb toward shattering release.
He pushed her legs farther apart, his movements increasing as if he sensed the tension wrapping around her like ribbons. Her thighs trembled, her body beginning to shake as her arousal reached an unbearable limit. One more sweeping flick of his tongue, and she splintered into a thousand pieces, a high wail emerging from her throat.
“There.” His voice filled with satisfaction, Warren lifted himself over her and brought his mouth down for a kiss.
The taste of her own body on his lips fired Julia with fresh heat. She wrapped her legs around his hips as his cock rubbed with delicious intent against her cleft. He covered her like a blanket, making her feel both overwhelmed and protected all at once.
His muscles were taut and slick with perspiration, his breath hot. He lowered his head and sucked her nipples, causing her to gasp and arch against him. The ache in her lower body intensified, her nerves stretched to breaking point. He reached down to grasp his cock and position it at the entrance of her body.
Julia clutched his shoulders, her legs spread wide. Anticipation flared through her. He pushed slowly into her, and she let her body relax and accept the exquisite invasion.
“Ah, tight.” Warren groaned as he eased forward, holding himself off her, his muscles straining with the effort of self-control. “Like a fucking glove.”
Julia lifted her hips, pulses of need surging through her. She hooked her legs around his thighs to open herself even wider. He pushed forward until he was seated completely within her, and then he stopped and looked down at her, his eyes burning with a thousand emotions all directed only at her.
His cock throbbed inside her, sending heat to her every nerve ending. She felt stretched, full, deliciously taken. She moaned, shifting underneath him, her body craving more.
Warren pulled back a little, pushed forward again, but gently—too gently, as if he were afraid of hurting her. She tightened her legs around him and gripped his big arms.
“Harder,” she gasped, her breath scorching her lungs. “Do it harder. Oh, please.”
He emitted a low groan, his jaw clenching. He eased out of her almost completely, and then pushed forward with a forceful thrust that made her cry out in pleasure. Before she could absorb the sensation, he surged again, creating a friction that coiled her arousal tighter and tighter.
Her mind fogged with the intensity of all she was experiencing—the thick cock plunging in and out of her, the weight of Warren’s body above hers, the waves of heat spreading from their naked skin. She clutched him to her, rolling her hips upward to accept every hard plunge of his shaft, reveling in the sensations flowing through her body. He grunted with each thrust, his breath heating her bare shoulder, his hands gliding over her skin.
His pace increased, driving her into the mattress, her body trembling and shuddering beneath him. She came again, vibrating around his cock with an intensity that surpassed the first. He gave a rough shout, his muscles stiffening as he swelled inside her, and her sex flooded with the warm, wet current of his seed.
Panting and sweaty, they rolled apart to catch their breath. Julia closed her eyes. Her love for him was an enormous force inside her, like the intangible power that caused the stars to shine and the earth to rotate. Whatever made the oceans flow and the seasons change.
But for the first time, she didn’t turn toward him and tuck herself against his side. He didn’t reach for her either. A cold breeze prickled her skin.