So Nic kissed him back. Her hands moved to his shoulders, and she met his thrusting tongue with her own. He tasted of whiskey and loneliness, of anguish and despair. He was another wounded animal, and in this moment, if only for a moment, she had the power to soothe his pain.
His hands gripped her waist, and he lifted her off the floor and back against the door, pressing his body against hers and holding her aloft.
His kiss was carnal and hungry, and when he finally released her mouth, it was to feast at her neck. She felt the scrape of his teeth against her skin, and skitters of pleasure assaulted her. Nic arched her neck, gasped for breath, closed her eyes, and gave herself up to the magic he made.
She needed this, too. She needed to be needed. Greg’s betrayal had damaged her, and she wanted to feel wanted again.
Gabe’s hand cupped her breast, kneading and squeezing, almost too hard, but not quite.
She slipped a little and he yanked her back up, pressing his hips hard against her. His erection felt like steel. His fingers curled around the placket of her oxford shirt and he yanked, sending buttons flying. He ripped her bra, exposing her breast. He lifted it, took her into his mouth, and sucked her hard.
She shuddered. She wrapped her legs around him, wrapped her arms around him, and held on for dear life. Nic moaned, long and low in her throat. He answered with a growl.
At some point they slid to the floor and lay atop the braided rug that decorated the entry. At some point he stripped them both naked. Cold rose from the floor beneath her. Heat radiated from the man rising above her. When he plunged into her, Nic was on fire.
He took her fast and hard and rough, his hips pumping, his breathing harsh. Tension built within her as she watched him, wild, angry animal that he was. Eyes closed, he threw back his head, cords of muscle in his neck, shoulders, and arms standing out in hard relief as he drove himself into her, again and again and again.
Her own passion swelled and answered his thrusts. The delicious tension stretched. Grew taut. Almost. Almost. It’s been so long.
But even as she hung there at the very edge, he plunged one final time and cried out through gritted teeth. Cried out in pain and found release within her.
Heart pounding and aching for completion, Nic held her breath and watched him. The moment felt dangerous somehow. She didn’t dare to move. On the stereo, Frank Sinatra sang “O Holy Night.”
Slowly Gabe lowered his head. He opened his eyes and looked at her, dazed, as if he didn’t know who she was or where they were. Then, slowly, he focused. The dry, empty pools of brown filled first with pain, then with horror, and finally with tears.
Gabe Callahan wrenched himself out of her, away from her, rolling over onto his back. He flung his forearm over his eyes, breathing hard as if he’d run ten miles. His shoulders shook.
His whole body shuddered. The sound that escaped his lips was the most raw, mournful noise she’d ever heard.
It shook her from her stupor. She sat up. She touched him. Scooted beside him. She gathered his head and shoulders to her breast, rocking softly, saying softly, “It’s okay, Gabe. It’s okay.”
He shuddered silently.
She stroked his back and murmured soothingly, repeating over and over again, “It’s okay.”
He turned and wrapped his arms around her, buried his head against her, and cried harsh sobs that tore from his heart and ripped from his soul. Hot, bitter tears flowed from him like poison. Nic cradled him against her, rocking him, cooing soothing sounds, stroking his head and his shoulders. Her own eyes filled and overflowed.
How long they cried together, she would never know. Two minutes? Ten? Two hours? It was a moment out of time. The most intimate moment she had ever experienced. It was the saddest moment she’d ever known.
Until the afternoon got even sadder, when Gabe finally quieted, when he rolled away from her, turned away, and said in a quiet, raspy voice, “Please leave. I’m sorry. But please. Just leave.”
It hurt, but Nic understood his need to be alone. She wiped off her tears, gathered her clothes, and slipped quietly out into the cold.
EIGHT
The first time Gabe had met Jack Davenport was when he’d sauntered up to his isolated prison