Raising the Stakes

God, she was going to kill them both.

“Don’t. Sweetheart.” He swallowed. Still inside her, he willed himself not to move as he lowered his forehead to hers. “If you do that, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Don’t stop.” She reached up to him, clasped his biceps. “Please. Oh please. Gray. Gray…”

She arched like a bow seeking an arrow and impaled herself on him. Her cry of release rang through the room. Then, at last, Gray threw back his head and let himself tumble off the edge of the earth with the woman he loved in his arms.

* * *

“Nooooo….”

“Dawn?” Gray shot up in bed as the scream razored through the middle-of-the-night silence. “Dawn?”

He threw out a hand, found her beside him, thrashing and moaning. A dream. It was just a dream. Heart pounding, he switched on the lamp and reached for her. She fought him like a tiger, beating her fists against his chest and shoulders, fingernails raking his cheek as he clasped her shoulders.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re dreaming. Come on. Wake up.”

Her head snapped up. She stared at him but he knew she didn’t see him. Her eyes were wide and sightless; her lips drawn back from her teeth in a rictus of fear. A memory came to him, all too vividly, of a coyote with its leg caught in the teeth of a steel trap. He’d been a kid then, riding his father’s land, helpless in the face of the animal’s terror and pain.

This, thank God, was different.

“Dawn.” He drew her against him, held her tight, whispered to her, talked to her, told her that everything was all right, that she’d been dreaming, that he would keep her safe. After what seemed endless minutes, he felt her muscles start to relax.

“Gray?”

“Yes, baby. I’m right here.”

“I had a dream…”

“I know.” Her hair was tangled and damp. He stroked it back and kissed the tender flesh behind her ear. “But it’s over. You’re safe, sweetheart.”

She gave a little sob that almost broke his heart and burrowed against him. “Hold me.”

He kissed her mouth, rocked her gently in his arms. “Do you want to tell me about your dream?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“How about if I get you a glass of water?”

“Thank you, but I’m okay now.”

She wasn’t. Her skin was clammy and every now and then, she shuddered. His arms tightened around her. He knew exactly what she’d dreamed about. Harman. Her husband, the man who had beaten her, brutalized her…

“Dawn.” Gray slid down against the pillows, still holding her against him. “I’ll never let anything hurt you again.”

She sighed, her breath warm against his skin, and lay her face against his chest. “I was dreaming about my husband,” she whispered.

His jaw tightened. “Were you?”

“He’s a—he’s mean.”

“Is he?” he said, while he stared up at the ceiling and wondered how long he could lie here answering her with such stupid questions, listening to her tell him her secrets without admitting his.

“When I was with him… When he—when he touched me, you know, when he took me in bed…”

“Don’t, sweetheart.”

“No. I mean, I have to.” She lifted her head and looked at him, her hair spilling over her shoulders and onto his chest. “You need to know that I’ve never… I never imagined what happened tonight could be so—so wonderful.”