Page 5 of Naughty Desires

He always apologizes, because he’s Chris, and at heart he’s a good man. But nothing ever changes, and tomorrow something else will set him off and we’ll be on the merry-go-round all over again.

A sob rises in my throat. Alexis is right. It’s over. I can’t do this anymore. The only reason I’ve stayed this long is because somewhere beneath the anger and sadness is the man I fell in love with, who returned to the bus stop morning after morning with a red rose until he saw me again.

Unable to finish my dinner, I take my plate into the kitchen and tidy up. Dr. Steadman’s package is still on the counter where I left it. I had hoped Chris might be curious about it when he came in to grab a beer, but the dented, damaged box hasn’t been touched.

And doesn’t that say everything. The Chris I knew was driven by curiosity. When we first got together, he wanted to know everything about me, from my first memory to the contents of my purse. He was always taking things apart to see how they worked, following crowds to see what was going on, and driving down random side roads to see where they went. Sometimes his curiosity got him into trouble, but usually we had wonderful adventures, experiencing things I would never have dared try on my own.

But that Chris disappeared behind piles of papers, unmanageable deadlines, and a job that sucked the life right out of him. Chris was never the kind of man who should have been chained behind a desk, but he took the job so we could have a home and family. He took it for me.

I make myself a cup of tea and pick up the box. It’s big enough to fit a small toaster oven, but not nearly as heavy. Hopefully, whatever was inside didn’t break when I dropped it on the ground. I always hated my clumsiness until it brought me straight into Chris’s arms.

“Whoa. Where are you going in such a hurry, sunshine?” Strong arms wrap around me as I barrel straight into a broad chest.

“Bus,” I wheeze, pointing at the red taillights of the departing 401.

“Looks like you missed it.”

“Damn.” I sag against the stranger. Only twenty years old, there is still enough small town in me not to be afraid of every man I meet in the big city. “Now I’ll lose my job. I’ve been late twice this week already.”

“You want me to come and tell them it was my fault?” His deep voice rumbles through my body, sending a wave of heat straight to my core. “I did get in your way.”

I look up and for a moment I am lost in the depths of eyes as blue and deep as edge of the sky. Pulling back in the circle of his strong arms, I study his face, handsome in a rugged way, the golden stubble on his chiseled jaw, the lion-like mane of hair that brushes his collar. And then I register his body pressed against mine. The heat. The hardness. The sheer size of the man.

A man I don’t know.

“I’m sorry.” I pull away, almost disappointed that he lets me go. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”

“I was hoping you did.” His face softens. “You okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“You’re soft, and I mean that in a good way.”

My skin heats and I feel a curious ache between my thighs. Maybe those few extra pounds I gained since the holidays aren’t so bad.

“I’ve embarrassed you.” He strokes a finger over my cheek, and I feel the sensation arc straight to my clit.

“I was already embarrassed so it doesn’t matter. There aren’t degrees of embarrassment. It’s like skydiving. Once you jump, you’re committed.”

He laughs, a deep, rich, beautiful sound. “You’re committed to being embarrassed?”

“It’s my natural state of being.”

He tips his head to the side and studies me, considering. “Have you ever been skydiving?”

“God, no. I’m a two-feet-on-the-ground kind of person.”

“Your feet weren’t on the ground a minute ago,” he teases.

I drop my gaze and stare at his feet. He’s wearing a worn pair of Kicks that look like they have a world of stories to tell. “That’s because you lifted me up.”

“I’m going to tell people you jumped into my arms.”

“What people?” I look up to see if he’s teasing again, but this time he looks dead serious.

“The people at our wedding.”

This time it’s my turn to laugh. “We don’t even know each other.”

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