Home > Searching for Someday (Searching For #1)(29)

Searching for Someday (Searching For #1)(29)
Author: Jennifer Probst

The heat intensified, and now there was no pain, just a gorgeous growing pleasure that bloomed in her gut and spread out to every inch of her body. He increased the pace little by little, taking her higher, until she begged for more. She dug her nails into the mattress, lifted her hips, and let him ride her hard, fast, demanding every inch be opened and vulnerable to him.

Kate bit her lower lip as the tension twisted so tight it became excruciating. “Please, oh, please. Slade, I need—”

“That’s it, baby, all of it, more.” He groaned, rolling his h*ps and hitting a spot deep inside that shimmered with vibrations. Kate hovered on the brink of release, and he kept her there, drinking in every facial expression, not allowing her to conceal anything else.

His finger reached between them and slid over her clit. The orgasm took hold and shattered. Kate screamed as her channel milked him, and he rode out every last shudder, lengthening pleasure until convulsions racked her and wrung her dry. He gritted his teeth and groaned with satisfaction, letting himself go. His body tightened and he shuddered above her, the shock of pleasure too intense for any words. He slumped, tucked her neatly into his body and rolled so her head lay on his chest. Limp, sated, wrecked, Kate melted into him, closed her eyes, and rested.

“WOW.”

Slade grinned and looked down. Her pin-straight hair was tangled and had that tumbled-after-sex quality. Sweat glistened on her skin, and the delicious scent of female arousal drifted to his nostrils. Her lips were parted and slightly swollen. Her muscles melted into him as if she was a natural extension of his body, her ankle hooked over his thigh, her hip a gleaming expanse of curve and pale white flesh that contrasted with his own olive skin.

“That’s all you got?”

She blinked and stretched with a lazy grace that stiffened him to full staff. He was crazy to think one night with her would wring her out of his system. He’d never thought about the full danger of snagging a taste, then getting hooked. Slade pushed down the niggling worry that told him laying the trap to catch her had backfired. She’d trapped him just as well.

“Thought you’d be happy. I’m beyond words.”

He chuckled and smoothed back her tangled hair. “True. That’s probably a miracle.”

She lifted a hand to try and punch him, but it fell helplessly to her side. “I’ll make you pay later.”

“I’m sure you will.” He cupped her bare breast, playing with her nipple. The nub hardened instantly under his teasing thumb. “But not until I wreak my own revenge.”

She arched into his touch. Power rushed through him at her raw response. The inner caveman he always beat back roared to life and shattered his civilized veneer. God, how long had he fought this only to be overwhelmed the moment they touched? Still, he needed to keep it strictly to the bedroom. Already, Kate pushed buttons he never knew he had, making him long for the unthinkable.

More.

“If it contains any of the moves you did before, bring it.”

“Baby, I almost spilled my seed before I got inside of you. You’ve got a hell of a lot more coming.”

He squeezed her br**sts, tightening on her nipple, and she gasped. He watched her carefully and caught the tiny thrust of her hips, the tripping of her pulse in her neck. Oh, yeah. His Kate liked to play a bit on the wild side. He couldn’t wait to explore every one of her limits and beyond.

Curiosity burned to know more. She hid so many layers behind her composed businesswoman persona. Each time she revealed more, his fascination intensified. Slade kept up the caress, lulling her into a state of relaxed arousal. “When I first met Robert, you said something that stayed with me. Just because someone was broken doesn’t mean they should be thrown away.”

“Yes.”

“You were talking about more than Robert, weren’t you?”

She took a few moments before answering. He stroked and tweaked her nipple to urge her on. “I stutter.”

The simple admission tore through the room like a misfired champagne cork. “What do you mean, baby? You had a stuttering problem?”

“I still do. When I get nervous or stressed, I lapse back. I’ve gotten it under control in my adulthood, but I had a hard time.”

He continued his gentle massage of her br**sts. Remembered the few times she seemed to trip over her tongue. He’d assumed it was because she was overwhelmed by his pushiness to get her to confront their attraction. “Don’t schools do therapy for that?”

She didn’t speak for a while, as if wondering how much to tell him, but he kept his touch soothing. The connection of skin on skin guided her into a deeper state of intimacy, where sharing secrets in the dark blocked out the reality of the day-to-day world. “I started when I was eight. Usually children who stutter get help and outgrow it. At first, everyone thought I was just shy or nervous. I began to shut down more and more in order to stop it. I had all these thoughts and things I wanted to say, but when I opened my mouth, everything got tangled up. It was like a crazy cycle I couldn’t break. I had decided to ask for help when my dad got transferred to upstate New York for his job. I had to move, and meet new people, and it started all over.”

Slade frowned. “What about your parents? Didn’t they try to help?”

“They seemed to think I’d outgrow it, but the school finally convinced them to send me to a regular therapist. My mother believed I was fine the way I was, that I was nervous and trying too hard to express myself. She enrolled me in yoga classes and music, believing I needed to let go and accept who I was. Dad backed her and they’d just confirm they loved me exactly the way I was. That in their eyes, I was already perfect. You see, my mom lost two children before she was able to carry me to term. They called me their miracle baby.”

Slade analyzed her words. On the surface that type of love was hard to fight, the natural acceptance of parents who loved their child. The burn of perfection a mother’s gaze saw in the baby she’d always wanted. But what was the price for Kate? How would it feel to be so frustrated with speaking? To want her parents to say it was a problem and get her the help she needed, but too afraid to confess she failed them? “Was school hard?”

She stiffened beneath him. Raw pain slammed into his gut at the idea of her being hurt by others. Like his sister. How many times had he found Jane crying, broken, trying to make it in a world where cruelty was flaunted and sensitivity was demolished? She never fit in with the right crowd, so she was consistently punished. “Yeah. I got bullied, of course. Some teachers tried to help; others ignored it. I kept to myself, and since I transferred late in the game, I barely made friends. For years, I felt so isolated and stupid. Why couldn’t I speak normally like everyone else? Kids used to finish my sentences for me or imitate me. It got so bad I decided never to open my mouth, even to answer my teacher. My grades plummeted. But it taught me some hard lessons. Even things that are terrible finally end. If you lock down and fight through it, eventually the bad stuff is over.”

Pride surged. Damn, she was strong. How many people bitched and whined about their upbringing? Blaming others for bad choices and never looking inward? “I graduated and got into NYU. I met Arilyn and Kennedy in my first semester, and we bonded immediately. Manhattan was a big city, full of people who were too busy to care if I didn’t speak perfectly. I found a great therapist and finally learned techniques to control my speech.”

“But you finally got your happy ever after with Kinnections.”

“Yes. Our famous drunken idea became a reality because we fought hard for it. My therapist really helped with my growing confidence, and I realized just because my speech would never be perfect, it didn’t mean I couldn’t own my business and make it a huge success.”

“You amaze me.” She shook her head in denial, but he forced her chin up. “You’re an intelligent, capable, well-spoken woman, and I would’ve never known you had such a struggle.”

“We all did. Kennedy battled a weight problem and then struggled with anorexia. Arilyn was a real geek and a complete outcast. We made it. I didn’t tell you this for pity, Slade. I just wanted you to know . . . more.”

Her confession shattered him, along with her inner strength. All the ridiculous assumptions he made about her and her crew haunted him. The idea of such vibrant, passionate women battling peer pressure and inner demons reminded him he had forgotten an important lesson. One shouldn’t judge the surface before knowing the truth. Shame filled him. Isn’t that what others consistently did to his sister? Assumed she was an overemotional geek who spurned others because she thought she was better than everyone?

“Thank you for giving me that gift.”

“Slade?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Will you tell me something? Something you haven’t told anyone else?”

He jerked back and studied her face. Curiosity gleamed in her eyes, but there was more. A vulnerability and longing to connect, to share an intimacy beyond their lovemaking and transcend the physical. The sexual pull between them was so strong it shimmered around them in a visible aura, but Slade realized in that moment she wanted to hold something more from this encounter. Something to remember in the harsh light of morning that wouldn’t drift away in a wisp of smoke.

His heart lurched in his chest. From fear. From the bonds of confessing his own secrets to this woman who held more power than she knew. But he couldn’t deny her, not tonight.

“I met my ex-wife in high school. I was young, full of angst, and too many hormones. I was at the top of my class, driven to succeed, and she was the bad girl on campus. I had been accepted to Harvard, and she decided to go with me, so we eloped at graduation.” The image shimmered before his vision in all its taunting mockery, but he pushed on, determined to give her the story. “God, we were doomed from day one. I wanted to be a lawyer more than anything. She wanted to be my wife and thought marriage would be fun. Like high school. Needless to say, it wasn’t, and things turned into a mess.”

“Did she go to college, too? Want a career for herself?”

“Tracey wasn’t ambitious. She wanted to party, have fun, and be a lawyer’s wife. She craved excitement like a junkie, loved living on the edge.” A humorless laugh escaped his lips. “School took everything I had. I rarely saw her, and when I did we’d fight, and she’d threaten me with cheating. We held on until I graduated, interned at a firm, and finally scored a job. We moved to New York together, but by then, we barely had a marriage. I came home one day early and caught her with another guy. Sad part was, I didn’t even blame her. She was lonely, and I couldn’t give her what she wanted. We divorced and moved on.”

He fell silent. Kate rolled over and propped her chin in her hands. White-blond hair slid over one eye. Those lush lips pursed as if she were thinking and sorting over his story. “Do you still blame yourself?” she asked softly.

He almost jerked at the direct question but managed to hold her gaze. “Sometimes. I was selfish, and concentrated on my future rather than on us as a couple. I wasn’t suited for marriage.”

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