Story turned toward him now, hair billowing around her beautiful face and lights dancing in her eyes. Her lips stretched into a broad, reassuring smile and Daniel’s heart stuttered before kicking up a faster pace in his chest.
He’d fallen for this girl. The realization felt like pain and perfection at once. How do people live their lives feeling like this, day in and day out? Like your next breath depends on another person’s happiness? She’s torture and heaven all wrapped up in one forbidden package.
And she’ll leave you.
Hadn’t he known better than this? If his childhood had taught him anything, it was that wanting something inevitably led to disappointment. Somehow that lesson had utterly deserted him when it came to Story, because he wanted her with every goddamn bone in his body.
Certain she could read every thought on his face, Daniel quickly turned away. Declarations threatened to burst from his mouth, but he knew it would be too soon. Story wanted to pretend that she wouldn’t be leaving when Jack recovered. As though tonight was any regular night between them. And after what she’d done for him back at the party, he would do anything she asked of him. If he revealed how deeply his feelings for her ran, it might push her away.
She squeezed his hand. “What are you thinking about?”
If she only knew. “You were on the verge of running away back at the party. I saw it on your face. What changed your mind?” When Story didn’t answer for long moments, Daniel turned to meet her serious eyes.
“You,” she replied simply.
The cab pulled up in front of his building then, saving him from having to speak around the knot wedged in his throat. He paid the driver and minutes later, they stood outside his apartment door. It felt surreal, having her there when he’d done nothing but wish for her presence over the course of the week.
When they walked inside, Daniel stood at the entrance and watched Story wander around his living room. This apartment had been his first permanent home after graduating from the academy. He’d placed furniture, rugs, and photographs exactly where he wanted them and kept the space ruthlessly clean in appreciation of having a place to call his own. Something he’d always wanted, but never expected. Kind of like Story. Now, he tried to see it through her eyes, hoping she liked what she saw.
Daniel watched as her hand trailed over the back of his couch. He wanted that hand on him, starting on his belly and inching its way lower. Having her in his apartment, among his things, was turning him on. Without removing his attention from her, he made a quick mental calculation of how many surfaces on which he could have her. When she rested her hands on the windowsill and leaned forward to get a look at the river, her dress rode up the backs of her thighs. He bit down hard on his tongue to keep from groaning.
Story must have sensed the shift in his energy because she turned from the window. He thought he might have heard her breath catch as her eyes landed on his face. “It’s a nice view.”
“Stunning,” Daniel agreed. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and went toward her. “What about the rest of it?”
She looked around. “It feels like a home. I think I expected to see Mets pennants on the wall. Or maybe a painting of dogs playing poker.”
“Oh, I have one. It’s in the bedroom.” Her easy laughter rolled through him. Touching her couldn’t wait any longer. Daniel grasped her around the waist and lifted her onto the windowsill, watching as the dress climbed up her legs and left them almost completely bare. His hands skimmed down the outside of her smooth thighs, over her knees and down to her feet. He slipped her heels off and let them drop to the floor, laughing when she whimpered in relief. “I want you to be comfortable here. No sore feet on my watch.” He leaned forward and kissed the skin beneath her ear. “And hopefully I won’t wake you up this time with a nightmare.”
She stiffened against him. “Daniel, it’s okay to have nightmares. I understand.”
Daniel’s hands ceased their movement and he pulled back to study her. He read people for a living. Something about the way she said those words, with a slight hitch in her voice, tipped him off. “What do you understand?”
Her expression was a mixture of sympathy and anxiety, most likely over his reaction. “I know…I know what the nightmares are about. The morning after you had the nightmare, Jack made a comment about your childhood preparing you for hostage negotiation…and I was curious, after the things you said in your sleep. It’s not Jack’s fault. I shouldn’t have pried like that.”
He zeroed in on one thing she’d said. “What did I say in my sleep?”
Story hesitated, looked away. “Nora. You kept repeating the name Nora.”
As always, the mention of his foster sister sent a jolt through his nervous system. He still thought of Nora every day, but it felt different somehow to have her name was spoken aloud. It made his life’s biggest failure feel that much more real. And now Story knew. Or had known for days. The final piece of himself he’d been capable of hiding from her melted away until he stood in front of her completely defenseless. She knew about his past with women, his horrible upbringing. He had nothing left to hide from her. Yet, knowing all his flaws and shortcomings, she was still there with him.
Daniel had one more question. He hated asking it, but her answer would be exceedingly important to him. The knot in his throat had returned, but he tried to speak around it. “Do you pity me, Story?”
For the second time that night, she surprised him. “No. I pity the sixteen-year-old boy. Of course I do. How could I not?” Story rose from the windowsill and placed her hands on his chest. She waited until he met her eyes to continue. “But I don’t pity the man. The man took a tragedy and used it to give himself purpose. The man is magnificent.”
Story’s pronouncement burned in his chest. Unable to respond or face the rush of emotions, he sank his hands in her hair and kissed her. Her head fell back, lips parting on a sigh that he savored on his tongue. He plastered her body against his, molding her curves to his contrasting hardness, the driving urge to pleasure her swaying him on his feet. His hands traced down her sides to grasp her hips, his intention to lift her against him and carry her to the bedroom, but he froze as her hands began working his belt buckle.
He tore his mouth away. “No. I need to have you in my bed.”
“You will.” She kissed his jaw as her hand slid inside the opening of his pants. Daniel groaned as her hand found his erection, her fingers gripping him firmly. Perfectly. “But I need something first.”
When Story sank to her knees in front of him, Daniel stopped breathing. Even as he tried to capture in his memory the image of her looking up at him with a swollen mouth and heavy-lidded eyes, he tried to stop her. “Baby, you don’t have to—”
His protest died a quick death when she slowly licked the underside of his straining c**k from root to tip, eyes closed in enjoyment as she did so. Every intention he’d had of stopping her evaporated from his mind and he gave himself over to the pleasure. When her mouth closed around him, a growl erupted from his throat and sweat broke out along his skin. He commanded himself to stay still and take whatever she gave him, but he couldn’t stop his hips from undulating ever so slightly toward the suction of her mouth.