When Morning Comes (25 page)

“Sabrina,” he breathed, taking her into his arms again, his mouth finding the sweetness of hers. She was open and honest. He hadn't known what it was to be really happy until she came into his life. As always, she came, giving herself totally to him. His tongue mated with hers. His breathing hitched along with hers. He'd never known a kiss could be so wildly erotic.

His hand swept up under the white tunic top and moved upward. The instant his hand touched the skin graft, she jerked, trembled.

He didn't hesitate. He went to the lamps and turned both up, then came back to her. “I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you, but I'm hoping you know that it's difficult for me as well.”

She frowned. “For you? Why?”

He smiled, brushing her hair back from her irresistible face. Sabrina always wanted answers. “Since this is your first time, you probably have very high expectations, maybe a fantasy or two.”

She looked up at him. “Maybe. I'm reasonably sure you'll see me and not change, but…”

“You could feel the same way about me. Let's see.” He tossed off his polo shirt, toed off his loafers. His slacks followed.

Her eyes widened. “You're beautiful.”

“So are you.” He pulled the ties free at the wrists of her tunic, reached for the hem. “May I?”

She nodded. “It's only fair. Right?”

The barrier he'd erected around his heart melted. She wouldn't let fear rule her. She humbled him. He had to be just as brave.

He pulled the blouse over her head in one smooth motion. Her gaze locked on his face. He let his eyes slowly move downward over her left shoulder to the barely there lace bra. The scars, from midway on her left breast to the waistband of her pants, were flat and resembled a patchwork of skin. As he'd noted before, skin had been grafted from her stomach. He saw it with his eyes, but also with his heart.

His hungry gaze came back to hers. “I'll say it again. You're beautiful. You humble me with your courage, your capacity to forgive and love life.” His hands settled on her small waist. “You also drive me crazy with wanting you.”

She blinked, swallowed, and slowly smiled. Her arms curved around his neck. “We can't have that.” She kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth to taste and tease as she pressed against him.

Pleasure and passion swept through him. He wanted this to be as perfect for her as she was making it for him. His mouth moved with maddening slowness over the curve of her jaw, the slope of her shoulder, hovered as he unhooked her bra. Her breasts were high, firm, and exquisite.

“I'm a lucky man,” he said, his warm breath teasing her nipple, just before he pulled it into his mouth. She jerked, then arched, holding his head to her. He moved to the right, licking and teasing and blowing.

“Cade.” She moaned out his name.

Sweeping her into his arms, he placed her on the bed, enjoying the sight of her flushed face and full breasts, before pulling the wide-leg pants from her legs. His heart almost stopped on seeing the lacy scrap of material masquerading as panties. He swallowed.

Leaning over, he kissed her there then stripped her panties away. He tossed his briefs after her panties and pulled her back into his arms, kissing her, allowing his hands to freely roam her incredible body. She was an unexpected gift that he treasured.

Soon, kissing and touching ceased to be enough. He groaned when he realized his condom was in his wallet.

“What?”

“Protection's in my pants and I don't want to move that far away from you.”

“You don't have to.” Reaching under the pillow she held up a package, then tore off the wrapper and straddled him. “Let me.”

The indulgent smile on Cade's face faded as Sabrina, with an intensity that strained his willpower, slowly rolled the condom onto his straining flesh. She seemed to take great pride in getting it on just right, running her hand over it repeatedly.

He tried to remain still, but with her breasts moving enticingly in his line of vision, he lost the battle. Rising up, he was once again on top, his mouth kissing her as his fingers tested her readiness and found her hot and wet. He thrust into her, felt her clench around him. He moved slowly, allowing her to adjust to him. He didn't have to wait long.

Her hips lifted, her legs wrapped around him, urging him deeper. She met him thrust for thrust, bringing them closer until they exploded together. His breathing harsh, he gazed down into Sabrina's flushed face.

His heart stumbled. She stared up at him, a serene smile on her face. “If I had a fantasy it would be you. This,” she breathed.

“Sabrina.” He rolled, bringing her with him, unwilling to release her. She got to him. It no longer bothered him. She was the one joy he'd looked for in life and never found. Kissing her on the forehead, he closed his eyes and followed her into sleep.

*   *   *

Tristan pulled up in front of Kara's house at half-past ten Saturday night, turned off the engine, and reached for her hand. It trembled. “I'm calling in ten minutes.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “If only—”

Twisting his head, he kissed her on top of her head. “If only what?”

She straightened and looked at him. “Too many things to count.” She briefly pressed her lips to his then jumped out of the car. Pulling her house key out of her pocket, she let herself inside and cocked her head to listen.

Her mother usually watched TV on Saturday night. Since she claimed sitting in the pews at church aggravated her hip, she watched church services on television as well. Two cautious steps later, Kara paused, closed her eyes.

What are you doing, Kara? Now she's got you sneaking to your room.
Her “if only” had been if only she had a mother like Vera, but the flip side would mean she would be as bold as Tristan. He loved his mother, but there was no way he'd let her run his life.

Kara continued down the hall, humming the theme song from a movie she'd only seen snatches of. When she wasn't kissing Tristan, she just enjoyed being close to him, enjoyed being held by him, knowing he wanted her, but he put her first.

“Kara?”

Still thinking of Tristan, Kara opened her mother's bedroom door. Several issues of
Southern Interior
magazine were scattered around the chaise longue she was reclining on. The picture on her television screen had paused.
Not good.
“Hi, Mama. You need anything?”

“I asked Sheila about that decorator,” she said, plainly still miffed about being left behind.

Kara waited. Sheila and Calvin Golden had the only two-story house on the block. Their warm, inviting home was beautifully and expensively decorated.

“Sheila had heard of her. She's decorated some of the best homes in the city.” Hazel glanced down at a magazine. “She's not cheap, which means your paintings won't be either.”

Money, first and always.

“You watch her and that son of hers.” Hazel snorted. “Commission my foot, but with that many paintings we should make out pretty good.”

We.
“I might not sell anything.”

“They wouldn't be trying to butter you up if they thought that, and that's why we're going to the open house, to keep tabs on them,” her mother said smugly. “There's nothing to keep us away.”

No. Please no.
“There's no need. It will probably be boring and long. You can't sit that long,” Kara said, walking farther into the room. “The home is two stories. You'll never be able to get upstairs.”

“Then you'll go where I can't. At least you can do that—if you stop thinking about that son of hers,” Hazel snapped. “They won't get one over on us. You keep working with them, but be smart about it. This is our chance. I won't let you mess this up for me.”

Me.
It would be a waste of time to point out to her mother that she had maligned Kara's paintings, had tried to destroy them. Now that there was a chance to make money, she was on board all the way.
Too late.
“I'll do whatever it takes.”

“Good.” Her mother picked up the remote control and started the TV program again.

Dismissed, Kara went to her room. Her cell phone rang. Picking it up, she plopped on her bed. “My mother believes you and Vera are out to take
us.
She wants to come to the open house to watch you. I'm to keep working with you to make sure
we
get our money.”

“What time should I pick you up tomorrow so we can watch each other?”

Tristan took it better than she'd expected. “Why aren't you as angry as I am? Vera would be.”

“Let's say I have ulterior motives, all of them having to do with—” He whispered something naughty and intriguing to her.

“Noon.” She and Sabrina went to church together and lunch afterward, but Sabrina probably had plans of her own from the way she and Dr. Mathis kept looking at each other. She'd understand.

“See you then. Dress casually. I can't wait to hold you again. Night.”

Her heart sighed. “Me either. Night.” Kara disconnected the call. Tristan might not be forever, but it was wonderful having him in her life now.

*   *   *

Cade woke up early Sunday morning with Sabrina wrapped around him. He didn't think, he just went with his emotions, brushing his lips across her forehead. She snuggled closer, whispered his name softly.

Even asleep, she responded to him. She was the one bright constant thing in his life. For the first time in his memory, he was content.

He glanced down, wanting to see her reaction when she came fully awake. Her eyes opened; happiness shone in them. “Good morning,” she said, climbing completely on top of him.

His body stirred. “It certainly is.”

She chuckled, brushed her lips across his. “I thought I'd dreamt you.”

His hand swept over her naked butt, pressing his arousal against her woman's softness. “Does that seem real enough?”

Sabrina moaned softly, rubbing against him. “Very.” She nipped his lower lip.

He twisted and then she was on the bottom. His gaze swept over her naked torso with greedy appreciation. “I see you and I want you.”

Her eyes softened with an emotion he couldn't identify. “Good, because I feel the same way about you.”

“Good.” Putting on a condom, he brought them together.

She clamped around him, her arms tightening as he pumped into her. She reached completion seconds before he did. His breathing harsh, he rolled, taking her with him. Her warm, uneven breath fanned his chest.

“I'm so glad you made the exception to your dating rule,” she murmured, kissing his chest.

He glanced down at her. “Because you make me look forward to every day. Before you, it never really mattered that much.”

Tears sparkled in her eyes.

“No.” He kissed each eye. “I never thought about harming myself. It's just that growing up, the next day always meant verbal abuse or a belt if he felt like it. It got to the point I dreaded the next day, dreaded tomorrows. I grew up with the attitude that if tomorrow never came, it didn't matter.”

“I intend to make sure you keep on looking forward to each morning.” She kissed him and rolled out of bed. “You stay here. I'm going to take a quick shower and make you breakfast in bed.”

Cade caught her several steps away, picking her up. He enjoyed holding her, hearing her happy laughter, the softness of her slim body against his. “How about we shower together and I fix
you
breakfast?”

She gave him a quick kiss as he set her on her feet in front of the glass enclosure. “Breakfast I can cook.”

Opening the shower door, Cade stepped inside, bringing her with him. He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature. “Never doubted it. I'd rather be with you.”

“Cade.” His name trembled across her lips.

“And I get to do this.” He pulled her into his arms, his mouth finding hers.

*   *   *

Kara was ready when Tristan pulled up in front of her house at noon. After he came in to speak briefly with her mother, they were on their way. Kara glanced down the street toward Sabrina's house. Dr. Mathis's car wasn't there. He hadn't made it back, but Sabrina had said he would. She and Kara had talked that morning before and after church.

Sabrina was happy and on top of the world. Yet, while Sabrina freely admitted she was in love, Kara wasn't ready. She felt deeply for Tristan, trusted him with her paintings, but not her heart.

“You all right?” he asked, pulling out of the driveway.

She glanced around at him, felt the tug in her heart and almost panicked.

“Kara?” He pulled over to the curb a couple of houses from hers and took her into his arms. “What is it, honey? Did your mother say something else to upset you?”

No, I did this all by myself.

His hand stroked her arm. His lips brushed the top of her head. “I'm here.”

But for how long,
she thought, then chastised herself. Tristan had been totally honest with her, had pushed her to succeed when she'd doubted. If any man deserved her love, it would be him. If he didn't return it … well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

She lifted her head to see the unmistakable concern in his eyes. “Whatever happens, I'm glad we met.”

He frowned. “That sounds like a brush off.”

She laughed because he looked so angry at the thought. Then she plastered her lips and as much of her body against his as possible in the cab of the truck. “Did that feel as if I'm going anyplace?”

He dragged her to him for another long kiss, then sat her in her seat and started the engine. “I'd planned brunch and the art museum, but they'll have to wait.”

Kara smiled and snuggled closer as he pulled off. She ran her hand over his thigh. “I'm going to make a feast of you,” she told him.