Abby gawked, not believing his high-handedness. “No?”
“I’m not leaving, Abby.” This time his lips brushed her face, trailing light kisses on her cheek. “Not when you’re like this.”
Shivering from his touch, she took a deep breath. “Like what? I’m fine.”
He didn’t laugh, but he could have. She was so far from fine that no one would have thought less of him if he’d had a good chuckle at her comment. She felt on the verge of screaming, crying, laughing hysterically, throwing herself into his arms and begging him to love her, an entire plethora of heightened emotions all surging at once through her hormonal system.
“It’s going to be okay, Abby.” He brushed her hair away from her face, stared into her eyes and warmed a place deep inside her that she hadn’t realized had chilled the moment he’d said she was pregnant. “I’m as scared as you are about this, but somehow this is all going to be okay. We’ll make it okay. Together.”
When his lips covered hers, she let herself believe him. Let herself give in to the temptation of his touch, the warmth of his caresses, the power of the emotions between them.
She couldn’t exactly recall how Mistletoe ended up in the floor and Dirk stretched out above her, his weight pressing her into the sofa, his mouth drawing out her every breath. She clung to him, loving the weight of him covering her, loving his strength, the need in his kisses, his touches.
Rather than the frantic way they’d made love on that morning, or even their desperation the night of the Christmas party, their touches were slower, more drawn out, more everything.
Her brain screamed in protest, reminding her she was supposed to be protecting her heart against him, not kissing him, not helping as he pulled her sweatshirt over her head, revealing her naked breasts to his eager inspection. His eager kisses.
“I want you, Abby,” he breathed from between her breasts. “Let me love you.”
Despite knowing she should stop him, should not expose her all too vulnerable heart, she couldn’t deny Dirk, not when his hot mouth felt so good on her body, not when she suspected he already owned her heart. All of her heart.
She wanted his love. More than she’d ever dreamed of wanting anything in her whole life, she wanted this man. All of him. His mind, his body, his heart. Yes, she definitely wanted Dirk’s heart.
She tugged his T-shirt free, helped pull the material over his head, bit back a groan at the beauty of his naked torso. He removed his jeans, her sweats, and was inside her in what seemed a single breath. No condom. What would be the point? Body to body. Soul to soul.
“Abby,” he breathed against her mouth, staring into her eyes, moving inside her. “I’m not going to last long. Not like this. I—I need you so much. So much.”
Clasping her hands with his, he drove deeper, so deep Abby lost where she ended and he began, gave herself over to the emotions flooding through her body, her heart.
Not her heart, Dirk’s.
If she’d had any doubts before, she no longer did. Her heart, all of her, belonged to him, completely and irrevocably.
She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper, deeper still. “I need you, too.”
Saying the words out loud somehow made them more real, somehow made her feel more vulnerable. But looking into his eyes, seeing matching need, real need, she could only expose herself further.
I love you.
She wasn’t sure if she said the words out loud or just in her heart. Regardless, she felt them with all her soul, with everything she was.
She loved Dirk.
Much later, Abby didn’t eat any of the turkey bacon Dirk fried, but she did have a healthy portion of the freshly sliced cantaloupe, scrambled eggs and buttered toast. And didn’t dry heave once.
Amazing what good sex did for a body. Not good sex. Great sex.
No, not sex. No way could what they’d just shared be called mere sex. No, what they’d just done transcended everything.
“Apparently—” she smiled, feeling a little shy “—I like your cooking better than my own.”
“Impossible.” His grin was contagious, complete. Real. “I’ve had your fudge, Abby. You’re a whiz in the kitchen.”
“Thanks.” She watched him feed Mistletoe the leftover bacon. The cat purred against his leg, brushing against him time and again. Mistletoe wasn’t the only one wanting to rub against Dirk. “My cat will forever be begging for more.”
Just like she worried she’d be begging for more of the attention he’d shown her this morning. Wow.
Lord help her! She loved him.