Croc's Return (11 page)

“Do you want me to leave?”

A question fraught with undertones and, in her mind, a cop-out. “Yes.” She didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes, which was why she sighed and added, “No. How’s that for a clear answer?”

A smile creased his lips, a smile meant just for her. It affected her more than it should have. Warmth curled in her belly.

Caleb still had yet to move from in front of the bedroom door. He cast a glance around, and a frown creased his brow.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“You’re standing in it.”

“But there’s no bed.”

“Brilliant powers of observation.” Sarcasm slid from her lips but without malice. Most people displayed the same shock when they found out her living situation. “Luke needed a bedroom with a door since he goes to sleep earlier, and this way his toys aren’t all over the place.”

“You guys could use a bigger place.”

“A bigger place means more dollars.” Then Renny hastened to add before he thought she was looking for a handout, “We’re doing just fine here.”

Caleb’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Would you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Getting all prickly anytime I say anything about your life.”

“Maybe I’m prickly because you seem awfully critical for a guy who just walked back into it. I’m doing the best I can.” To her horror, her voice cracked.

Before she could realize what had happened, Caleb had leapt over the couch and drawn her into his arms. For a moment, she allowed him to hold her, savoring the feel of his body against hers, reveling in the touch of a man. This man.

Fire licked her senses, rousing them, and raising her temperature.

It would be so easy to tilt her face and find his lips.

So easy to succumb…

Yet so hard to recover if he hurt her again.

There was only one thing to do to destroy the intimacy building between them. She swiped her wet eyes and cheeks from side to side on his shirt and then, for good measure, honked her nose in it.

She didn’t just do that.

Oh, but Renny had. She’d blown her tear-stuffed nose on him and then pulled back, a tiny smirk of triumph hovering at the corners of her lips.

Why would she do that? Renny was a lady, albeit a tough one given her upbringing, but still not one to be gross…unless she had an ulterior motive?

She moved away from him, heading for the box of tissues on the counter.

By the time she’d turned around, he was leaning against the back of her couch, arms outstretched, shirtless.

She gaped. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You used my shirt as a Kleenex. I assumed you did that as a hint I should take it off.”

“That is not why I did it.”

“So you admit to doing on purpose?”

Clamping her lips, she glared at him.

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, baby. Relax. Come have a seat beside me. I promise to only bite the spots that turn you on.”

No mistaking the sudden inhalation of breath or the way he could practically feel the heat flushing her skin.

Nice to see she remembers…

“I think it’s time you left. Luke’s in bed now, so there’s no reason for you to stay.”

“And I say there are too many to list. We need to talk, Renny.”

“Talk about what? Luke? I told you that you could see him. He knows you’re his father. What else do you want from me?”

“You.” The single word slipped from him, and he might as well have slapped her given how she recoiled.

“I can’t do this, Caleb. Not again.”

The utter pain in those words hurt worse than the scars on his body. He also couldn’t leave them hovering in the air between them unchallenged. In a flash, he was standing before her.

“Baby.” The soft word left his lips as his arms went around her. She held herself stiffly in his embrace at first. Then sighed.

“I promised myself I’d resist you,” she murmured.

He brushed his knuckles against the silky skin of her cheek. “I made the same promise to myself.”

She lifted her gaze to him. “You suck at keeping promises.”

He knew she meant it in jest, but it made him angry. Not angry at her for speaking the truth, but at himself. “I never meant to leave you.”

“Then why did you go? Why, Caleb?”

She asked him for an answer, and he wanted to tell her, wanted so desperately for her to understand it wasn’t her—it was him. More specifically the monster inside. The cold-blooded beast he couldn’t always control.

Since he couldn’t find words, none that would express what he felt, he let instinct guide him. Problem was the survival instinct didn’t lead him out the door like he would have expected, but had him dipping his head for a kiss.

She turned her head away, so his lips missed hers but hit the soft skin of her cheek. Undaunted, especially since she didn’t move away from his embrace, he let his mouth trail to her ear. She always did love it when he nibbled the lobe.

That hadn’t changed. So much hadn’t, such as how she made him feel…

A soft sigh escaped her as he tugged at her flesh. Her body softened, and she stepped closer to him, closing the small gap between them.

Coming home.
The whispered thought echoed along with a sense of rightness.

Renny fit so perfectly in his arms, her lush body a complement to his hardness. The scent of her, the essence that never failed to enflame the fire simmering within. A fire that burned only for her.

With her melting response to his touch, her body pliant and lush in his arms, he moved his mouth back to hers, and this time, she didn’t turn away. Rather, she met him in a sensual embrace, a slow exploration that ignited every single one of his senses. Touch—so silky. Sound—a breathless inhalation. Her taste—more potent than ambrosia. How his entire spirit and soul rejoiced at the joining.

Mine.

And he didn’t mean in the owning sense but in the conviction that Renny was the only woman who could ever complete him body, mind, and soul.

The knowledge that she held so much power over him should have made him tremble. He’d been prisoner to a woman before and suffered, but Renny’s control wasn’t forced. She didn’t compel him to act. It wasn’t her fault that her mere presence seduced him and had him forgetting all his promises.

How could he even think to stop when he recollected, all too easily, the fiery nature of her passion? Anticipation kept him from pulling away. Desire had him craving more.

Somehow, he ended up sitting on the couch with her draped in his lap. A good thing, too, since a weakness pervaded his limbs, a fine trembling that permeated every fiber of his being as past and present collided in that moment, striking hard at not only his body, but also his heart.

How could I have ever left her?

Why had it taken him so long to find his way back?

He wrapped his fingers in the silken skein of her hair where it tumbled about her shoulders, pulling her head back that he might trace the fine line of her throat with his lips.

The rapid flutter of her pulse teased him, taunted the beast that wanted to bite, but he pushed back against this urge. He didn’t want to hurt Renny. In this, the man part of him would have its way.

The tip of his tongue traced patterns on her skin. His lips tugged soon after. However, he wasn’t content with just nibbling at her throat.

I have an urge for something juicier.

Ripe peaches were there for the cupping, and he did, palming the full weight of her breast in his hand while thumbing over the peak. Even through the fabric of her shirt and bra, her nipple reacted, tightening into a bud that protruded. A shudder went through her, and a quick peek at her face meant he caught her licking her lips. He rubbed his thumb lightly over a tip.

Another shiver struck her body, and a soft sigh slipped from her lips.

Enticing didn’t come close to describing her.

How could he resist?

Caleb dipped his head and teased the tip of her breast, closing his mouth over it and sucking, the fabric dampening as her breath shortened.

“Caleb.” She moaned his name.

My name.

She knew it was him making love to her. Accepted and craved his touch. Emboldened by this knowledge, he pushed at the hem of her shirt, lifting it over the swell of her breasts and revealing her ripe peaches cupped in a plain white bra. She didn’t need lace or wires to present her breasts. They were perfect.

Fuller than before, he discovered when he unsnapped the clasp at the back, and yet still high, rounded, and…

“Your nipples are darker.” He made the observation aloud and could have kicked himself when she went to cover herself with her hands as if shy or embarrassed.

“That happened during the pregnancy.”

The reminder made his lips tighten, and he almost pulled away at the reminder he’d failed. But he held back.

If he left now, would she wonder if it was because he’d said something about her body? He never wanted Renny to feel anything less than perfect, and right now, given she bit her lower lip and still covered herself, he could see she wondered if he still found her attractive.

If you only knew how gorgeous I find you, baby, and how many times you saved me from falling forever into darkness.

He pried her hands away so he could stare at those delicious tits—and they were yummy, enough that his mouth watered. He glanced at her and made sure to catch her gaze. “You’re beautiful.”

She made a noise. “You’re just saying that. I know that I’m heavier than I used to be, and I’ve got stretch marks.”

The extra curve to her frame looked better than fine to him. A man liked a little cushion for the pushing. As to the marks she bore... “You have stretch marks, and I have scars. What of it?” He shrugged. “Life sucks. Shit happens. Sometimes it leaves behind a signature to remind you.” Like the fire had left its mark, and yet, in the flames, he’d reclaimed his freedom, so it was a reminder he didn’t mind. “Some scars you wear as badges of honor.” Such as the marks that meant she’d given birth to life.
My son.
How could she think he would dislike the signs left behind? He traced the skin on her belly, the light silvery trails not bothering him one bit.

She ran her hand down his marred cheek, and he shivered as she touched the never fully healed skin. “You’ve changed.”

Yes.
And no. Since he’d left the military, he didn’t let his other side out. He no longer
changed
. “I won’t deny I went through some stuff that affected me, and yet, in some ways, I remain the same. I never stopped caring for you.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Her gaze dropped, and a slight tension tightened her frame.

Smooth move, idiot. You ruined the moment.

Caleb expected her to move away, but she surprised him by leaning forward and capturing his mouth, slanting her lips across his and fiercely kissing him, her teeth clashing against his in her frenzy.

If she preferred to act instead of talk, he was good with that. He was starved for her touch, and given how she undulated against him, he wasn’t the only one. She lay back against the couch, and he partially covered her, his body on its side that he might still let his hands roam.

Her Capri-style yoga pants were form-fitting, perfect for a hand that wanted to cup her mound. The heat of her scorched through the fabric, and the moisture of her arousal dampened as well.

Her hips rolled as he pressed the heel of his hand against her, and her breath came in pants. While he rubbed, his lips kept busy pulling and nipping at the nipples that he’d exposed.

Her fingers dug into his scalp, holding him to her breast, her soft mewls of encouragement driving him on.

The heat of her flesh taunted him through her pants. He needed to touch her. Now.

He slid his hand under the waistband and then under the elastic band of her panties. He slid his fingers through downy curls and heard her suck in a breath.

Farther he explored, the tip of his finger touching the damp edge of her nether lips. He parted them before inserting a digit.

Hot. Wet. Tight.

Oh fuck.

He pushed his finger into her, wishing it was his throbbing cock instead, but he didn’t want to rush things. Didn’t want to ruin this moment.

His mission—give her pleasure. He wanted to hear her cry his name. To feel her climax on his fingers or, even more deliciously, on his tongue.

He inserted a second finger in her, stretching her channel, and as he pumped her sex, he bit down on her nipple while she chanted, “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Her body tensed as she approached the edge. Faster. Faster.

“Yes! Yes!”

The blood-curdling scream didn’t come from Renny.

“Mommy!” The sharp, shrill scream shattered the moment more effectively than a bucket of cold water.

“Luke!” she cried his name, even as she leaped from the couch. Renny hurriedly tugged down her shirt as she scrambled around the furniture to get to the bedroom.

Caleb took a shortcut, vaulting over the couch and entering the bedroom before she even made it to the door.

Entering, she saw Luke huddled against the headboard while Caleb stood, his entire body bristling, before the window.

The open window.

A cool breeze with hints of bayou filled the room, fluttering the superhero drapes she’d fabricated out of discarded sheets. The moist swamp was a familiar smell, but underlying it was something else, a more pungent scent she couldn’t figure out.

“What is that smell?” she asked as she crossed the room and held out her arms to her son. Luke dove into them, seeking their safety.

Remaining staring at the window, Caleb answered her. “I don’t know what that is. It’s a mixture of a few things, none that make any sense.”

Well, that was vague. “Did you leave the window open when you tucked him in?”

Judging by the tight set of his shoulders and the shake of his head, no. Despite the ambient temperature, a shiver went through her.

Who opened the window?
And more disturbing, why?

“I saw something,” Luke sobbed, fear making him a little boy again who clung to his mother.