Divorced, Desperate, and Delicious

Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-one

  

He pulled back to see her face. “Did . . . did I hurt you?”

She hiccupped through her sobs and shook her head no. But her inability to speak took his fear to a new level. He cupped her face in his hands and studied her eyes. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She didn’t answer, just continued to cry. He brushed the tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “You’re scaring me, Lacy. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She buried her head against his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms back around her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.” He gently rubbed his hand over her back and called himself a bastard.

Several minutes passed. Her shaking lessened and so did the sniffles. He pulled back, brushed his hand over her cheek and forced her to look at him. “You okay?”

She nodded.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she said. “I . . . I don’t know what happened. I just lost it.”

Then . . . that was a good cry? Happy tears?” he asked hesitantly.

“I guess so,” she said, then hiccupped again.

He ran a hand through her hair. “This is going to take some getting used to. You scared me to death, woman.”

“Sorry.” She sniffled.

“No. Don’t you dare apologize. I just thought . . . thought I’d done something wrong.” He kissed her chin, moving up her face until he’d kissed away her tears. Then he pulled her tighter. “That, my lady, was the most amazing sex.”

She grinned, even as her eyes still held the remnants of tears. “Really?”

“You don’t think so?” he asked, suddenly insecure.

“Well, yeah, but I’m not as experienced in . . . in sex. I’m sure that with all the casual sex you’ve had, this was just—”

Her words caught him off guard. “Casual sex?”

“Isn’t that what you called sex without involvement?”

He opened his mouth to inform her straight out that there had been nothing casual about what they’d shared. But damn, if something didn’t tell him that Lacy would balk about it having been something more. But, why? All sorts of possibilities ran though his head; then the answer he’d come to earlier stuck against his heart like hot bubble gum on the bottom of a tennis shoe. Peter. Was that why she’d cried? Because of guilt, because she wanted him to be her ex?

Brushing her hair from her face, he told himself that possession was nine-tenths of the law. And right now he possessed. Her body still hummed from the two climaxes he’d given her. Her lips were still moist and swollen from his kisses, and the taste of her sex still flavored his tongue.

He would make her see things differently. Lacy Maguire would have a change of heart. He wasn’t about to give her up without a fight. And Chase Kelly could fight damn hard when he wanted something this bad.

* * *

She fell asleep against him. He studied Lacy, wishing he knew everything about her. Yet even as his body sang with pleasure, his heart ached for Stokes. To think, he’d been making love while his fellow officer lay on an operating table fighting for his life: guilt knocked at his mind like an unwanted visitor. But even as guilt sought companionship, Chase knew nothing he’d done or not done could have helped Stokes.