Page 38 of Free to Run
“I take it you don’t remember my putting you to bed?” His expression is filled with humor.
My face must look like it did when I found out Sir Arthur Conan Doyle didn’t care for his character Sherlock Holmes. Shocked.
Nodding, he shifts closer. “You don’t remember what you said to me?” Shifting slightly, he now has me pinned to the bed, his hands framing my face.
Oh, God. What did I say? I frantically search my memory of last night and come up blank. “No,” I whisper, still shaking my head back and forth. My breath is coming in frantic pants.
He levels himself over me, and my hands grip his muscular biceps. I’m not certain if I want to pull him toward me or push him away.
Our bodies align in the perfect way they always have. When they do, I realize he has on a pair of boxer briefs. So, we didn’t have sex, I surmise. Or he pulled them on after.
I’m so lost in my head, I don’t realize Keene’s been observing me the entire time in the silence of the room. “Why don’t you ask me what you want to know, Alison?” His voice is deeper than normal, still husky with sleep.
“I’m not sure I want to know,” I admit.
“Why?” Is it my imagination, or is his face closer to mine than it was a moment ago? “What are you afraid of?”
Sliding my hands to his shoulders, I halt his progress. “I’m not going to fall into the toxic spiral I’ve been in since the last time we were in a hotel together, Keene. Now, why are you in this bed?” My voice is low but demanding.
“Because last night you said something that completely echoed my feelings,” he says immediately.
Uh-oh. “What’s that?”
“Right before I put you in the bed, you said you wish I had stayed the first time we were together. And Alison,” he whispers, focused entirely on me, “I wanted that so much. Too damned much. It was why I had to leave. And other than having my sister kidnapped, nothing has ever hurt so much.”
I shove him, trying to get him off me. “Stop. Just stop, okay? There’s no need to tell me pretty lies now. It was what it was.” It just wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t enough.
My hurt floods back, as do the tears. I turn my face away. He doesn’t get this part of me.
Keene pins me down to the bed and forces my head toward him. I refuse to let it turn all the way though. “Listen to me, damnit. I couldn’t let you, us, happen then, Alison. I had to walk away. I hadn’t found my sister. I swore to myself I wouldn’t let myself feel anything until I found her.” He drops his head next to mine on the pillow, breathing harshly. “I felt it that night too, baby, and I had to walk away. I swore I couldn’t…wouldn’t…allow myself to care for anyone until I found her.” He swallows harshly next to my ear. “And then I met you.” His voice breaks. “I couldn’t stay. I had to run. Otherwise, I knew I would never leave.”
No, he can’t be saying all of this. He can’t mean it. It’s some kind of game. “Stop it. I don’t need to hear this now.” I’m pathologically adamant in my refusal to listen to him.
He forces his weight to bounce the bed. The uncharacteristic move has my eyes jumping to his. “It’s not a game. If anyone’s been playing, it’s you. What was with that crap at the wedding? I felt the spark between us, again, and you kicked me out without a chance to explain. Didn’t you want to know why I left after our first time together? Christ.” He rolls off me and runs his hands through his thick brown hair. “Is that how we’re going to be? Constantly at war with each other?”
My jaw opens and closes several times while I process what he asked. Do I want to give the man who helped shatter the remains of my heart the key to the fortress I swore only last night I would store it in? Without thought, I say the first words that come to mind—“No, I don’t think we’ll always be at war with each other”—right before I lean over and gently press my lips to his.
Keene’s arms tighten half a second before he rolls me over onto my back deepening the kiss.
17
Keene
Alison’s lips on mine is enough to send my senses reeling anytime. She initiated this kiss, forcing me to forget my anger at the mistreatment she’s been absorbing for both of us.
It’s primitive, my need to be with this woman.
Easing her deeper into the bed, I stretch out on top of her. Breaking our kiss, I take a deep breath just to absorb her. Her golden hair spread out around her head is like a halo. Her cobalt-blue eyes are sultry, her skin reddened from where they met with the stubble on my face. Her lips are parted, waiting for mine to descend upon them again.
They say there are none so blind as those who refuse to see. That’s me. For not seeing her, for not seeing her pain. For not understanding why she would pull away from these feelings between us. Instead of moving heaven and earth to figure out why, I let personal issues push her further away. I want to…no, I have to see where this leads us.
Starting now.
Alison writhes on the bed, deepening my desire. I can’t help it when I pivot my hips, pushing my rock-hard cock against her softness. Her legs part, one wrapping around my back to pull me closer to her body.
Fuck. This might have been a mistake.
