Page 34 of The Perfect Secret

“Do you have any aspirin or anything I could have? My head hurts.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t.” His gaze slid to the side before he returned his focus to her. “Do you want ice?”

“No, it’s okay. It’ll go away soon.”

No painkillers? Really?

He stroked her back and she yawned. The emotions of the day caught up with her. His rhythmic caressing made her eyelids heavy. Beneath her ear, she could hear the reassuring beat of his heart. Her hand on his chest traced the outline of his muscles. The quiet strength of this man amazed her. His willingness to support her stunned her, though by now, it shouldn’t.

“Do you want to talk or just sit here?” His voice was pitched low. She could feel its rumble beneath her ear.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about. Nothing has changed. Jeff’s still an addict, my grandmother still wants to enable him. I’m the bad guy.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re not the bad guy. Someday, they will both see that as well. Why was Jeff at your apartment?”

“I have no idea. I opened the door, heard his voice, and left.”

“So he might still be clean.”

She pulled away. “Are you defending him?”

“No.” He stared at her. Sincerity, along with something else she couldn’t name, reflected in his gaze. She relaxed again and Dan continued. “I’m saying there could be any number of reasons why he was in your apartment. Since you didn’t go in, you don’t know what the reason was. Right?”

She swallowed. “Right.”

“I’m pointing it out because there are many sides to a story.”

“In all honesty, at this point, the only thing that will make me feel better is for him to disappear. And he won’t, not when my grandmother encourages him.”

His breathing hitched and he coughed. “What can we do to make things easier for you the next time he shows up?”

“I have no idea. Although talking to you and knowing you support me does help.”

The hand stroking her back paused, before resuming. “I’m glad. And I’m glad you know I support you, because I do.”

She met his gaze, sharp with concern. This close, she could see the varying shades of blue around his pupil, the short dark lashes framing his lids and the faint lines at the corners of his eyes. She’d never noticed those lines before and they only added to his appeal. Licking her lips, she watched his pupils dilate and his lids lower a fraction.

She licked her lips again to see what would happen—his nostrils flared and his breath warmed her face. Reaching out with a finger, she traced his lips, which parted at her touch. Lowering her finger, she ran it across his jaw line, feeling the rasp of his stubble brush her fingertip.

He leaned against the back of the sofa, and she trailed her finger down his neck and over his Adam’s apple. It bobbed as he swallowed. She let her finger move lower, to the collar of his shirt beneath his sweater. Starched cotton, warm skin, and hard collarbone contrasted with each other. She traced the outline of his shirt, making a V against his chest where the top button opened.

He grasped her hand, holding it in place for a moment before he raised it to his mouth and kissed her fingers. His breath was warm; each touch of his lips against her fingertips sent shards of heat from the ends of her fingers up her arm straight to her chest.

Straightening, she took both hands and ran them through his close-cropped hair. Why did she never think salt-and-pepper was sexy before? Trailing her hands down the planes of his face, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his.

Like a match to a tinderbox, he reacted, bending forward, grabbing her to him and pressing his mouth against hers. Theytoppled against the sofa, her underneath him, while his mouth devoured hers. His hands roamed from her hair to her waist and back, leaving hot trails in their wake. Heat pooled in her belly. Her breath came in gasps as she plunged her tongue deeper, gripped his body harder and pressed herself against him. Hard melded with soft, boundaries blurred. She lost the ability to tell where she ended and he began.

His hands continued their journey to cup her breasts. The touch was blissful torture, making her shudder as he unclasped her bra and caressed her. All logical thought disappeared. The world around her telescoped to his hands on her body.

She raised her arms above her head and he pulled off her shirt. Hypersensitive to his touch, her body tingled as the fabric dragged against her skin. He flung it away, taking first one breast and then the other in his mouth, sucking gently and making her toes curl with desire. Need made her anxious. With shaking hands, she pulled at his sweater.

“We need to take this off,” she whispered. She flung it off of him and unbuttoned his shirt.

His hands stilled, a look of uncertainty flashing across his face.

She climbed onto his lap, took his face between her hands, and forced him to look at her. Lowering her mouth to his, she kissed him on the lips.

“I want you,” he whispered.