Coming Back To You (31 page)

He trailed his tongue across her flesh to her
other breast, swirled it around her nipple, and then closed his
lips to feast once more. She sighed, and he looked up through his
lashes as her head fell back, opening her neck to him.

Not one to refuse such an offering, he rose
on his knees and left a trail of kisses from her ear, down the side
of her neck, and between her breasts to her stomach as he eased her
down to the mattress. Her legs encircled his back.

There were so many things he wanted to tell
her. So many admissions about what he’d gone through since he’d
left, all the unsent text messages he’d written and deleted. But
right now, all he wanted was to love her. Really love her.

Admiring the vision of her naked torso and
pert breasts, he tugged on the waist of her pajama bottoms,
dragging them down her legs, leaving her in nothing more than an
innocent-looking pair of white cotton panties. He loved seeing her
in white. So pure. Angelic. Just like her.

But even purity had to go, and he hooked his
thumbs around the elastic waistband and peeled them from her
body.

Still kneeling on the floor, her legs on
either side of his shoulders, he leaned forward and brushed his
lips up the inside of her thigh, all the way to the apex of her
body. Her reaction was instantaneous. She rolled her hips, shifted
on the bed, and let out an airy breath from between her
heart-shaped lips.

The first time he saw her—in Chicago at the
charity benefit a year-and-a-half ago—she’d reminded him of a
princess at her debut. Statuesque yet timid. She was a woman worthy
of worship, and as he knelt before her, spread her with his thumbs,
and slowly ran the length of his tongue over her clitoris, that’s
exactly what he was doing. Paying fealty to the woman who’d
quietly—almost stealthily—burrowed her way into his heart.

Her hips rotated against his face. She moaned
and dug her blunt nails into his scalp, begged him with her body
not to stop until she cried out, back arched, and clamped her
thighs against the sides of his head, his tongue pressed hard
against her pulsating core.

His. All his.

After several long, delicious moments, her
legs relaxed, and he leaned back and rose to his feet, unfastening
his belt as he did.

She reached into the nightstand, pulled out a
condom, and sat up as she ripped open the packet.

When he was fully naked, she rolled the
condom on as he watched, then slid back on the bed to make room for
him.

And then he was inside her, her bent leg
supported by his arm.

She was tight, her core still contracted from
her previous orgasm, and the snugness felt good as he thrust into
her.

Her gaze locked to his, and he couldn’t look
away even if he wanted to. He fed off the awe and devotion shining
back at him. Tonight clearly held as much meaning for her as it did
for him, if not more.

She licked her lips, and the sight of her
glistening tongue sent a shock into his libido, making the base of
his spine tingle. He remembered what she could do with her tongue,
and the knowledge that from this point forward no one but him would
benefit from her oral talents licked his erection and bolstered his
ego in a way nothing ever had.

Her breath hitched, and her body shuddered.
She was going to come again.

And this time, he was going to come with
her.

“Don’t stop.” She moaned and gripped his
back.

Eye to eye and mouth to mouth, he wouldn’t
have stopped even if there’d been an earthquake. This was their
moment. Finally, they were one. Truly, honestly, one.

His orgasm rushed up like an attacking lion,
and he grunted as pleasure gripped him by the balls.

“I love you.” As the words left his lips and
he buried himself inside her, the intensity of his orgasm doubled.
“God, I love you.”

Beneath him, she fell into vicious, rapturous
contractions, her arms locking hard around his back, holding him
against her. “I love you, too.”

Peace. He was finally at peace.

And he didn’t need a sign to tell him he was
exactly where he belonged.

Chapter 32

Karma stirred awake, lying on her stomach, her arm
hanging off the side of the bed. God, the things Mark had done to
her. He’d made her feel things she’d never felt, but then, she’d
never been this in love.She lifted herself and turned toward the
other side of the bed. Mark wasn’t there.

Oh no. Not again.

“Mark?” She sprang upright. “Mark?”

“In here,” he called from the living
room.

She relaxed and pulled herself out of bed. It
was five o’clock, still dark, except…not as dark as it should be.
She peered out the window as she pulled her robe around her. The
ground was covered with snow. The first real snow of the
season.

Barefoot and salaciously tousled, she
pattered into the hallway to find Mark sitting on the couch,
shirtless, wearing a pair of grey sweats. In the middle of the
living room floor, his suitcase was open. His laptop sat in his lap
and his bare feet rested on the coffee table.

She crossed the living room to the couch.
That’s when she heard the music playing through the speakers. It
was a slow acoustical number, full of lyrical guitar, and sounding
like a warm spring day after a rain shower. Soft sounds of ocean
surf filled in the background. “That’s nice. What is it?”

He clicked and pulled up his player as she
sat down. “A song called ‘Sweet Inspirations’ by Eric Bernard.” He
turned up the volume then leaned over and kissed her. “It’s kind of
a perfect song for right now, isn’t it?”

Everything about the song spoke of the
peaceful tranquility between them. And the love. “Yes.” She tucked
her feet under her and rested her head on his shoulder. “Did you
sleep?”

“A little.”

“What woke you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Excitement maybe.
I just felt like I didn’t want to miss anything.” He pressed his
lips to the top of her head.

“Why’d you come out here?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

She sat up. “So what are you doing? Besides
listening to music.”

He clicked again and brought up her blog.
“Reading your blog.”

Warmth filled her face, and she bit her lip,
fighting an embarrassed smile. “How did you…?”

“Lisa sent me the link.” He scrolled
down.

She was going to have kill Lisa later.

He was reading one of the entries she’d
written about him. The one Jan had asked her to write detailing
what she liked and didn’t like about Mark.

“It says here you only didn’t like one thing
about me.” He rubbed his palm over his stubbly chin.

“That’s right.” As hard as she’d thought,
only one thing had come to mind for Mark’s list of cons. In her
mind, he’d possessed a lot more pros.

He pointed and read aloud. “
That he left
me
.” He turned and looked at her. “That I left you? That’s the
only thing you didn’t like about me? Really?”

She giggled and ducked her head. “Really.
That’s it.”

“I don’t snore?”

Her eyes met his again. “Maybe a little.”

“And that’s okay?”

She nodded and snuggled a little more against
him. “Yes, as long as you’re snoring next to me.”

He closed his laptop and set it on the coffee
table before pulling her into his lap. “I think I can manage that
from now on.” He rubbed his palms up and down her legs. “And now
that I’m back? What about now? Is there anything you don’t like
about me now?”

She laid her cheek against the top of his
chest. “That you waited so long to return.”

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about that,
but I can try to make up for it.”

“I’d like that.” She traced the lines of his
tattoo. “You never told me what this means.”

He glanced down. “What? My tattoo?”

“Yes. Does it have a special meaning?”

“It does.” He placed his hand over hers so
that her palm flattened against the ink.

Once again, she worried at its significance.
“Did you lose someone close to you?”

When her gaze met his, he blinked slowly and
a tender smile touched his face. “I did.”

“I’m sorry.” She let her gaze fall. “I didn’t
mean—”

“Ssshh.” He placed his fingers over her
mouth. “It’s okay. I found her again.” He dropped his hand to hers.
“My tattoo is your name. The glyphs stand for karma.”

She looked at them again, more closely. He’d
tattooed her name on his body? “When? When did you do this?”

“About a month-and-a-half after I returned to
Chicago last year.”

“Mark…” Words failed her. Yet again, he had
done something she hadn’t expected.

* * *

Karma’s reaction was exactly what he’d expected. Her
mouth fell open, her wondrous eyes searching his.

“It was my way of reminding myself of you
every day. Of remembering the promise I made on my way back to
Chicago.”

“What promise?”

He let go of her hand and brushed back her
tangled hair. “Karma, leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever
done. I almost turned around a dozen times before I even reached
Lafayette. I couldn’t help thinking I was leaving the best part of
myself behind. You. But I was so messed up. You know I was.” He
gestured toward his laptop. “You wrote about it on your blog. I
couldn’t get out of my own way long enough to see what was right in
front me.” He paused and caressed her face. “So I made a deal with
the universe. I agreed to return to Chicago and let the universe
decide. If I was meant to be with you, the universe would bring you
back to me.”

Her eyes glistened, and she tilted her head
to one side. “You could have just called me.”

He blew out a puff of air. “Do you know how
many times I typed you a text only to delete it. I almost called
you so many times.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because that’s not how it was supposed to
work. I’d given up control. I had to be patient and become the man
I needed to be to deserve you. Besides, I thought you’d already
moved on.”

She exhaled and shook her head. “And now you
know I didn’t.”

“Now I know you didn’t. And neither did
I.”

She sighed and bowed her head. “Since we’re
being so honest, I might as well admit that I watched you
leave.”

“When? My last day?”

“Yes.”

“How? You weren’t there that day. You’d
called in sick.”

She lifted her face, her cheeks pink. She bit
her lip. “I was in the parking lot across the street. I saw you get
in your car. I was sitting there crying when you texted me.”

“Oh, Karma.” He pulled her against him and
kissed her temple. “If you hadn’t replied, I would have come here
looking for you. If I’d done that, I don’t think I could have
left.”

“And I almost didn’t reply. I almost raced
home to meet you here.”

He grinned and slowly shook his head. “What a
mess we made of things. We both went to such extremes to chase the
other away.” He caressed her cheek. “And it almost worked. We
almost lost one another. But here we are.”

“Together again.”

“Yes. And being more honest with one another
than we’ve ever been.”

“Finally.” She snuggled closer and looped her
arms around his waist.

He chuckled and kissed her hair. “Just shows
that when something’s meant to be, nothing can get in the way.”

She raised her head, and her gaze searched
his. “And we’re meant to be?”

For a heartbeat, he lost himself in her eyes.
“I hope so, because that’s the only way I’ll have it. I’m not
leaving you again, Karma. From now on, where you go, I go.”

Chapter 33

Thanksgiving

Except for a few hours when Mark borrowed her car
and made a trip to his apartment for a duffel of clean clothes and
made a grocery run, she and Mark spent the next two days tucked
away in Karma’s apartment, making love, making plans, ignoring
phone calls, and getting reacquainted with one another.

Thursday morning, Karma woke early and hopped
in the shower as Mark continued sleeping. She had a batch of
truffles and homemade stuffing to make today for Thanksgiving
dinner at her parents’. Hopefully, these truffles would turn out
better than her previous two attempts.

She prepped all the ingredients for both
dishes before starting in on the truffles, then crossed her fingers
as she put the cream on to boil.

A couple of minutes later, Mark strolled into
the kitchen wearing boxers and a T-shirt, his hair damp. He smelled
like Irish Spring and aftershave.

“Good morning.” He cozied up behind her,
wrapped his arms around her waist, and planted a full-lipped kiss
on her cheek. “Mmm, truffles for breakfast, but I’d rather have
you.”

She giggled as he nibbled her neck. “These
are for Thanksgiving dinner. I promised I’d make truffles. I just
hope they turn out this time.”

He stepped out from behind her and checked
the cream. “They will. I can feel it.”

“Is it ready?” She deferred to Mark’s
expertise. The man was a veritable genius in the kitchen. She’d
sampled the proof more than once in the four months they’d been
together.

“Almost. A few more seconds.”

She scooted the bowl of chopped chocolate
toward the stove and grabbed the sieve.

“Okay, that’s good.” Mark shut off the cream
then took it off the burner and let it rest several seconds then
gestured for her to pick up the pan.

“You want me to pour it?” She’d hoped he
would. That was the only way she would learn.

“Sure. This way you get a feel for it.”

She picked up the pan and held it suspended
over the chocolate as Mark eased behind her again, one hand around
her waist, the other resting on her arm.

“Slowly,” he said. “Pour the cream in
slowly.” His hand skimmed up to her shoulder and brushed aside her
hair. His lips closed on the side of her neck.