Читать книгу Forbidden: A Shade Darker – The Complete Collection - Leslie Kelly, Kira Sinclair - Страница 22

4

ERIN WAS A knot of nerves and anxiety as she got ready for Bo to come over. He’d said they’d talk—and she knew they had to do that, but she wanted to do more.

Maybe.

She wanted to do whatever she needed to do to get this going between them.

“You’re such a romantic,” she said to herself, smirking in the mirror as she changed her shirt again, unable to decide if she should go with a bra or not.

She’d been with the man for a year. But for her, it was like a first date. A first time.

What had changed his mind?

Was she crazy? Throwing herself at him because it might prompt a few memories? When she was with him, next to him, she felt certain.

Less so right now.

When she heard his truck in the driveway, her hands went cold. She was being ridiculous. So nervous.

She reassured herself that Bo wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to do. She knew that. He would leave this up to her. Maybe that was what was so difficult. It would be easier, in many ways, if he would just make the decisions. Take over.

The potential of that idea created a flutter in her pulse that got her out of the bedroom and down the stairs to meet him at the door.

She whipped it open before he even had a chance to knock.

“Hi.” She was breathless.

He looked so serious; it didn’t help with her nerves.

“Hi.”

He must have changed out of his uniform, now in a pair of jeans and a faded black T-shirt. He was carrying a box. The way he braced it in his arms made his biceps pop a bit, and Erin found herself staring.

“Can I come in?”

She stood back quickly, feeling foolish. “Certainly. Yes, come in. Sorry. I guess I’m surprised, still. I didn’t expect you to call.”

He faced her as she closed the door, and suddenly she wished her house was different. More cozy and inviting. When she’d come home from the hospital, even she’d been surprised at how sparse it was. She owned fewer than a dozen pieces of furniture, and the whole house was still painted in the plain beige that it probably was when she bought it. There were only a few pictures and some department awards on the walls, and her kitchen was lightly equipped. As though she barely lived here.

Now, the functional gray sofa in the living room looked cold and boring. Not like something you’d want to curl up on with someone.

Redecorating—and maybe repainting—definitely needed to be done.

“I know. You surprised me, too, last night, when we...talked. I guess I needed some time to cool down and think about...everything.”

“Sure. I get that. What’s in the box?”

He seemed surprised, as if he’d almost forgotten he was holding it.

“Oh, you mentioned that you didn’t have any mementoes of our relationship here. You kept that kind of thing at my place, I guess, so people from the department wouldn’t see anything if they came by here.”

She frowned. “Was I really that secretive about it?”

“Can I put this down somewhere?”

“Yes, over on the table, please.”

“You were concerned about what people would think, and not without reason. Our department has never had any problems, and the guys all think highly of you, the brass, too, but it’s not unreasonable to assume they might have seen you differently if they found out we were together. And given our breakup, it was probably for the best that they didn’t know. You were just being smart.”

“I guess.” But it still didn’t seem right to her. It wasn’t as if they were doing anything wrong, after all. Hadn’t she proven herself on the job well enough to not worry about that kind of thing? Apparently not. “But anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“No, it doesn’t. But I thought maybe...well, that we could talk about this...arrangement we discussed. And that maybe seeing these items could trigger something for you, too.”

Erin had to fend off a stab of disappointment. What did she think was going to happen? That he was going to jump her bones and get down to it as soon as he came through the door? Did he bring the box as a way of hoping she might remember without having to have sex with her?

She had a feeling that she wasn’t used to feeling insecure. Not normally. It didn’t sit well.

“This is weird, isn’t it? You’re my ex, and for me, this is like a first date. Maybe it was a mistake?”

She folded her arms, rubbing her upper arms, unsure.

He closed the space between them, placing an arm around her shoulders.

“It is strange. Awkward, for sure, which is why we don’t have to do anything but talk. You call the shots. You set the pace, you say stop or go, yes or no—and I’ll listen. Period. Okay?”

Some of her uneasiness drifted away as she looked at him, and she knew this was going to be okay.

“Yes, thanks. Do you want some coffee? I have some scrambled eggs leftover from breakfast, too, if you want them.”

“Sure, that sounds good. I’ll help myself if you want to grab the box.”

Erin agreed. He probably knew his way around her kitchen as well as she did, given their past. Carrying the box to the sofa, she waited for him to open the box. When he sat down beside her, the box was between their feet on the floor.

She opened it, unsure what to expect. On top were several pictures in cheap but nice frames. She took them out and saw her and Bo, in various settings, and a few of them each alone.

“Wow,” she said, swallowing hard as she went through them.

It was like looking at someone else, somebody else’s pictures. Her heart clogged her throat at one of them on a beach, pressed up close, face-to-face.

Bo looked at her as if she was his world. She looked at him as if she wanted to be.

“Who took this?”

“I did. Auto-timer. I set it, and then run back to get in the shot before the camera goes off. It was always one of my favorites. Up at Lake Ontario. There’s a nature center there with a private beach, and we’d go there now and then. Lots of tall rocks and places to prop the camera.”

He reported the details as though they were just... details. Finishing his eggs, he set his plate aside and grabbed his coffee.

“That one,” he said as he pointed to the one in her other hand, “was after a fire at a school. When I came around the corner of the truck and saw you there, standing alone, I clicked the picture with my phone. It struck me...how beautiful you looked right then.”

She studied the photo—she was standing in a background of dust and smoke, filthy, in her gear, leaning back against the truck with her eyes closed as if she had to escape for just a minute. Or as if she was too tired to move another step.

“Beautiful? I’m dirty and in bulky firefighting gear.”

Even so, she examined the picture, intrigued. So this is what she’d done. This is what she’d looked like doing it.

“You helped save twenty-seven kids that day. They were all trapped in a science lab at the back of the school, and one little girl wouldn’t come to any of us. She was too frightened. But she came to you. It was a long, hard day, but a good one. I could see it all in your face, in your posture. How much heart you have. How much you had to hold back to keep a clear head and help them.”

Erin swallowed hard, her eyes burning. She put the pictures down, overcome with emotion. If this was everything she’d been, what she’d had—she’d also lost all of it. The pain of it was unbelievable.

“You always liked this,” Bo said softly.

He held up a strange turtle with a bobble head that had “I ‘Heart’ the Bahamas” on its back.

“From the one actual vacation we took together. Some more pictures from the island in there. A few other silly things. A book you bought me for my birthday and a shirt you used to sleep in at my place.”

Erin wanted to look, but she also didn’t want to. It was almost too much. It had been easier not knowing. Maybe that was a warning—it was a mistake to try to resurrect the past.

“Are you okay?” Bo asked.

She took a breath. “Yes. Sorry. This is a lot. More than I thought it would be.”

She picked up the pictures again, sorting through them. The usual array of happy couple photos, always smiling, sometimes romantic and sweet.

It seemed impossible that this couple would have broken up. But they had, apparently.

Bo was quiet as she continued to look, only filling in a detail now and then. Erin kept returning to one picture in particular, of Bo, standing in a room where he stared at the camera very intently. His expression was one of raw hunger, undisguised lust.

“This... I can almost... This is your house. I remember a... I don’t know. I can almost see it, but not. Something hanging on the wall behind you, like you are blocking it in the picture?”

She looked at him, expectant.

“There’s a small ceramic piece I inherited from my grandmother that you always liked. It was old, antique. From France, I think. You commented on it the first time you came over. That it looked like the garden your father kept when you were a kid.”

Erin’s eyes widened. “Yes! Yes, it was...oval? And hand-painted?”

Bo nodded, the corner of his gorgeous mouth pulling a slight smile at her excitement. Any doubts or fears that Erin had were washed away in the new memory. She put the pictures down, laughing with glee at yet another part of her past given back to her, and she lunged at Bo, throwing her arms around him.

“Thank you for doing this. For bringing these things over. This is wonderful.”

He hugged her back lightly as she squeezed him in her arms, and then realized, as the moment ebbed, that she was almost sprawled completely across him, pressing him back into the cushions.

Her heart raced even faster as she pulled back, but didn’t move, looking down into his face.

She dipped down before she could change her mind, kissing him as she wrapped her arms around him again.

He tasted so good. His arms lay at his sides as he let her explore his mouth, let her kiss him. Erin parted his lips, tasted him, went deeper to find more.

This was absolutely the right thing to do.

Angling her body so that she could press her front to his, she found him hard already and sighed into his mouth.

“This is so good, Bo. How did we ever let this go?”

It was the wrong thing to say.

He stilled beneath her, drawing back to look at her with passion but also...caution. Lifting off him, she sat, unsure what to do with her hands so she picked up the turtle again. Bo sat up, too, taking a minute or two to compose himself, as if he were deciding what to say.

“This will work. I know it. For all the weirdness, I want to do this with you. Please tell me you do, too,” she said, hoping against hope that he wasn’t going to back away or change his mind again.

His chest expanded as he took a deep breath, released it, and he offered a nod.

“I do. But we need to be clear on what ‘this’ is. We broke up, Erin, and this isn’t a reconciliation. We’re not starting again. If this works out the way you want it to, you’ll know that. Remember, you wanted out. And at some point, you’ll remember why. So let’s not fool ourselves or pretend it’s anything other than what it is. I care about you or I wouldn’t be here—but what happens between us, it’s not going anywhere. When it’s done, you’ll go on with your life, and so will I. You should know, going in, that I’m leaving in August.”

That surprised her. “Leaving? Where?”

“I’m taking a job with a federal task force with the FBI. No one knows, so please keep it between us for now. I agree with what you said—I think we need closure. It all ended so fast before. I did some research, and the doctor said it was possible that you could remember if—”

“Wait. What doctor? You told someone about this?”

“Dr. Newcomb. I didn’t tell her anything specific. Just in theory, she said being with someone you were in a relationship with could trigger some memories. It might make you feel safe enough to do so. I needed to know that. That this really could help.”

“Okay. I guess I can understand that. If that’s what you needed to be sure, then okay. And I’m happy for you, about the job. Really. You’re right—it’s good to get the ground rules out in the open. And I...I like you, too. As much as I know you. I do feel safe with you. I have since I woke up, which was confusing. I thought it was the uniform,” she said with a self-effacing chuckle.

Bo smiled, too. “She also said that if you want to see her, she’s always happy to make an appointment for you.”

Erin shook her head. “I don’t need a shrink. I need my life back. I need you.” She took a breath, calmed her voice. “I know what we had... Sexually, it had to be good, right?”

“It was mind-bending.”

“Wow, okay, no pressure, right?”

“You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“It’s something I haven’t talked to anyone about, but Bo, I can’t even remember my first time having sex with someone. I don’t remember sex with anyone. I guess I was a late bloomer. I don’t know what I like or don’t like, and I can’t even remember if I’m any good at it.”

His hand came up, touched her cheek lightly. “You’re insanely good at it. Believe me.”

She smirked. “Well, thanks, except then all of the experience that made me any good is now gone— unless it’s like all the other stuff that the doctors said I didn’t lose—like driving my car or doing yoga. Maybe sex is like that? I guess being with you is the only way I can know. And when it’s over, it’s over. When you have to leave, you go. No matter if my memory is back or not. That’s a good thing. It gives us a...deadline. But you know, if I’m not any good, and if you don’t want to, you have to tell me.”

He touched her chin, smiled slightly. “I don’t think that will be a problem, but I’ll let you know, sure.”

It was a strange conversation, this verbal contract they were hammering out, but it was also raising the anticipation. Bo was watching her. Waiting until she was done. He shifted his position, sitting up straighter.

“Likewise, I want you to be very honest with me about what you want or don’t want. I’ll show you what we liked, what we did...but if you don’t want that now, it’s okay. Just say so.”

Her heart was beating fast in her chest, her mind racing as she wondered what delicious, kinky things they might have done.

“Were there ever...other people?” She wasn’t sure why she asked, but something tickled at the back of her brain, that she and Bo might not have been very vanilla in their sex lives.

“No. Never that. Only us. I don’t like to share.”

She let out a breath of relief. “Good. Me, either. At least, I don’t think so. So that means, um, we’re exclusive for this time, too, right? You’re not seeing anyone else right now?”

“I haven’t seen or been with another woman since we broke up.”

That surprised her, but she didn’t say so.

“So yes, we’re exclusive for now. Are you still on birth control?”

“Yes.” The conversation was so...calm, so businesslike, but all the same, her blood was rushing to every spot that it needed to and a few extra.

She wanted him. As they sat there talking, she could barely hold back from touching him.

“I haven’t been with anyone else, but if you want me to use protection, I will. We never did, not after the first month together.”

She considered that for a few minutes. If he were a stranger, she’d never go for it, of course. She thought about that photo on the beach. Bo wouldn’t lie to her. Not about this.

“I don’t know if I was with anyone else.”

The flicker of pain in his face made her immediately regret the disclosure. “But I had every test imaginable when I was hospitalized, and I’m completely healthy. Well, except for the memory loss.”

He reached over and cupped a hand around her jaw. Bo stared into her eyes so hard, she couldn’t say anything else. That was okay; the expression on his face told her that they were done talking.

* * *

BO SAW THE flush move up Erin’s throat. She’d been getting aroused simply by talking about their agreement. But this was more than he expected, too. Though he should have considered it, he hadn’t considered that Erin had no memory of sex whatsoever. She wasn’t a virgin, physically, but if she couldn’t remember ever having sex...wasn’t that almost the same thing?

This was about more than trying to trigger a few memories. It was about making some new ones for her, whether he’d thought of that or not. But here he was, and he wanted her. Desperately.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, sitting across from him, her hands in her lap.

He lounged back, throwing one arm over the back of the sofa, open to her.

“What do you want, Erin?”

She scooted closer, her thighs pushing up against his. “I want to kiss you.”

Bo was hard again, but he was going to let her set the pace if it killed him.

He remembered his first time, which was also the first time for the girl he had been with, too. They’d kissed a lot, fumbled a lot and had fun. It hadn’t mattered that neither of them really knew what they were doing, and he’d been fifteen, so there was no way he could have.

But now it mattered, though he also knew a lot more, and wanted to make this good for her. Memorable.

Erin licked her lower lip, looking slightly unsure, and he shifted so that he could slide his arm behind her, pulling her up close.

“A good old-fashioned make-out session, then?” he said with a smile, looking into her eyes.

He didn’t wait for her answer as he looped his arm around the back of her neck and pulled her close, trapping her against him as his lips covered hers.

The previous kisses they’d shared at the bar and the diner had been rushed and hungry. They had time now. Nowhere to be; no need to hurry. So he didn’t. Bo took his time, exploring every angle of her mouth, starting with light, teasing kisses that she returned enthusiastically as he gradually deepened his exploration.

She was so damned sweet. He hadn’t spent this much time kissing anyone—only kissing—in a very long time. He and Erin had enjoyed kissing, but it was usually an accompaniment to what else they were doing. Only new couples ever sat and kissed like this, and it made him realize they never really had. Their first time had been hot and insane, in the truck outside the diner. They’d skipped this sweet-hot buildup. The slow part. It was intoxicating.

Though he wasn’t sure how much he could take when she turned the tables, pushing him back on the sofa and crawling over his lap to straddle him. Still, they continued only to kiss, though the heat was climbing as the kisses became more carnal. Wetter, deeper...their tongues doing what he wanted to do to her elsewhere.

She moaned against him, pressing her breasts to his chest, and shifting to grind herself against the ridge in his jeans.

Erin may have forgotten her sex life, but she remembered how to move her body all too well. He was too hot, too ready for her to keep doing that without him losing it.

She was in the same condition, if the quick little panting sounds she made into his neck as she nipped him there meant anything.

He put his hands on her hips, held her still.

“Two more minutes of that, honey, and this will be all over with,” he said hoarsely, wishing he had more control. But it had been a long time, and this was every fantasy that had kept him awake for months coming true.

She leaned her forehead against his. “Sorry, I need...you, Bo. Now.”