His vital energy poured into her. She clung to him and felt its wonderful heat, transforming her, and a single, piercing thought formed in her mind. He lifted his face, and it popped out. “I love you,” she said.
His eyelids went tight. His face, blank.
Fear stabbed through her like a blade of ice. She’d ruined it. Now he would take back his intense, passionate attention—never mind that it wasn’t love—and she would proceed to shrivel up and die.
Then came anger. How humiliating, to be terrified just because she told a man she loved him. She had nothing to be ashamed of. He should be grateful. She should not have to beg for any man’s love.
“Nell,” he said, sounding pained.
“No. Forget I said it.” Nell tried to wrench herself free, but his full weight was pinning her down into the squishy couch cushions.
He rolled off the couch, onto the floor. “Nell, I’m sorry if I—
“Shut up, Duncan. The worst thing you could do would be to apologize. It’s the one thing I could never forgive you for.”
“So what can I say?”
“Nothing,” Nell whispered. There was a burning tightness in her chest. It felt like her heart was imploding. She collected her clothes and marched into the bedroom. He followed her in on bare, silent feet. Disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, to deal with the condom, and then appeared in the doorway again.
“Nell, don’t,” he said, his voice rough. “Don’t do this to me.”
Nell fought the tears. “Please, Duncan. Just give me some space. I’m too embarrassed to talk to you right now.”
“Don’t be. Please.” He slipped his arms around her from behind, and squeezed. “Thank you for saying it. Thank you for giving yourself to me like you do. You’re beautiful and special, and you make me feel awake and alive like nothing else. Please. Don’t be embarrassed.”
Nell covered her face. “You drive me crazy when you talk like that,” she whispered. “You’re schizo, Duncan. Don’t confuse me.”
“I’m just telling you how I feel. And being honest. Isn’t that what women say they want from men?”
“What I want and what women in general want are two separate things,” she said haughtily. “Do not generalize me.”
“Never,” he said, smoothly, fervently kissing her neck.
Nell sighed. “It’s strange. All those things you say, about how you feel about me? That’s exactly the same way I feel about you. I just interpret those feelings to mean that I’m in love with you.”
Duncan’s arms tightened. He buried his face in her hair.
“But we define those feelings in such different terms,” she finished. “And that shouldn’t be so important. But…but it is.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Tears overflowed. She let them slide down her cheeks.
He jerked as a tear splashed his forearm.
Nell stroked his arm, brushing the moisture away. “It’s okay, Duncan. I appreciate you telling the truth. Honesty is better than lies. I guess.”
“I’m giving you everything I have to give.”
Nell turned in his arms until she faced him, and rested her face against his chest. “Yes. And you give a lot,” she admitted. “I just asked for the wrong thing, that’s all. I love our time together. Don’t worry.”
It was confusing, maddening, but maybe she should just relax, and try not to put this experience in a marked box. After all, the feelings he described for her were more than most lovers had to brag about.
Dread lay heavy in Duncan’s gut. Something precious was slipping away from him, and he didn’t know how to stop it. He massaged the muscles in her shoulders and back, but she couldn’t relax. He didn’t blame her.
Duncan coaxed her over to his bed, stripping off what remained of her clothes, and turned off the light, dragging her close to him. She hid her face against his chest, and he cuddled her, stroking her back in long, soothing passes of his hand over the perfect fine texture of her skin, all the way down to the curve of her ass. His dick rose up, hot and hard, prodding her thigh, but he gritted his teeth and ignored its insistent, throbbing demands.
Patience. This time was all about Nell.
He slid his hand down the cleft of her bottom. She didn’t recoil or stiffen up, just nuzzled her face to his chest with a wordless murmur, and parted her thighs, letting his hand slide lower, delve deeper.
He slowly, tirelessly apologized for what he didn’t have to offer her by showing her what he did have. His other hand joined the action, caressing her clit from the front while he thrust two long fingers into her slick, hot little pussy from behind, petting and stroking in ways he knew she liked. Long and slow. No hurry. He drove her higher, until she was squirming, panting, thighs clenching, fingernails digging into him.
Finally, a little shriek, and her cunt pulsed greedily, hungrily around his hand. She flopped onto her back, limp.
He put on a condom he’d left on the bedside table, rolled on top of her, and filled her with a powerful, relentless thrust. He wanted to chase the pain and unease of their last conversation away. This was the only way he knew to do it, to lose himself in the heavy rhythm of his body jolting against hers, her gasping cries, his harsh breathing. Somehow he managed to wait for her climax again, and his own release followed a split second after, her hot pulsations prolonging his pleasure.
And then she burst into tears.
Duncan was appalled. She disentangled herself and curled up with her back to him, sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her from behind until her sobs quieted. She fell into an exhausted sleep.
He lay there with her for what felt like hours, until the pressure inside him built up to the boiling point. He crept from the bed, tucked the comforter around Nell, and got rid of the condom, then he slipped on some sweatpants and wandered into the living room. He felt scared, shell-shocked, and the ache of impending doom in his gut was growing. He went out onto the terrace and stared out into the endless skyscrapers while the chill made his hairs rise up on his naked skin. It was almost dawn. The city below would wake up soon. But chill or no chill, he just stood out there, staring. Thinking, and feeling.
He was losing her. He could feel it. He put his head into his hands, tried to think it through. The weirdness had started when he’d asked her that stupid, ill-considered question about marriage, kids.
Marriage. He examined the concept. Was that what she wanted? Because if it was, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn’t such a terrifying idea. It wasn’t actually so crazy, either.
He ticked off the positive aspects. Protection. He would have a God-given reason to stay stuck to her like glue, if they were newlyweds, and that was fine with him. Then there was work, too. If they were married, their relationship would not be fodder for rumor and scandal in the office. No one would have any right to judge or criticize them. He would have a further claim upon her undivided attention and expertise for his company. He could easily pay enough so she could quit her other work, and have more free time. Hell, he had plenty of money. How much he paid her wasn’t necessarily relevant, once they were married.
She was so smart and imaginative, he would never get bored with her, as he had with other women he’d dated in the past. Sex was an important element of marriage, and they certainly had no problems in that area. And he would be faithful. No question about that. At all.
He would wake up every morning and find her there, beside him. That gave him a wonderful, spine-tingling sense of rightness.
Yes, marriage was the logical culmination of a partnership that worked. It was a win/win situation. So logical, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. He could hardly wait for Nell to wake up, so he could tell her what an excellent idea this was. He hoped it would make her feel better. That she would see that he was trying to meet her halfway, as far as he possibly could. And it was pretty damn far.