Echoes Page 18

  “Ryan…” It was a passion-laden moan, her fingers curling tightly around his where he still held her hand pinned to the bed.

  Lifting his cheek from hers, he switched his heated gaze from where his hand disappeared between her thighs to her face.

  Seeing her.

  Seeing the desire burning in her eyes, the lush redness of her lips from his kisses, the flush blooming in her cheeks, the golden hair scattered across the pillow from his fingers.

  Looking so damned beautiful it wrung his heart.

  Just as the feel of her, the soft press of her body against his, the position of her beneath him, the hot dampness of her secrets in his palm fired his ardour.

  He wanted her so damned badly. His shaft had stiffened as he played with her body, his blood swirling hotly through his loins to curl deep. Looking into her eyes now, his ardour flared hotter at the candid erotic yearn in the hot grey depths, the needing of his body, the sheer carnality of her response.

  Even now her hips lifted towards him, her free hand reaching for him, her hand at his nape urging him down.

  He allowed it, followed her pull, pressed his lips to hers, demanded she opened to him, and as always she did, welcoming him in, kissing him more desperately, more hotly.

  God, he could feel the snap of her fire sparking through him. He’d been concentrating on her, so lost in exploring her lush body once more that he’d been dimly aware of his own need, the heat of his own desire, but now he let it swamp him, let it surge up.

  Unerringly he slid his finger into the opening of her body, felt her jolt up against him, her fingers squeezing his as he buried his finger deep inside her, the tight cavern gripping him as he sought the spot inside her that always made her shatter.

  Found it, pressed it, rubbed it.

  Swallowed her moan as she shifted restlessly beneath him, the soft keen that never escaped her lips because he wouldn’t let it, swallowing it instead, taking every whimper of delight deep inside himself.

  Ardour spiked through him at the urgent press and undulation of her body, the way she tore her mouth from his to whisper huskily, “Please. God, please, Ryan.”

  He rolled fully atop her, capturing both her hands to pin them each side of her head, came up onto his forearms to watch her, watch the heat in her eyes, the parted lips, the desire stamped across every bit of her beautiful face, knowing it was for him, caused by him.

  That she wanted him as badly as he did her.

  Carnal heat sparked into fire, burning through him as he let himself go, let it eat him, yet he didn’t completely go up in passions flames. Part of his soul remained with her, part of an inner awareness, focussing on her as he shifted his hips so his shaft could nestle between her thighs, the tip so deliciously scalded by the hot cream that greeted him as he pressed forward.

  Looking deeply into her eyes as he flexed his hips, pushed inward, and then slowly, so exquisitely slowly, he breached her, keeping their eyes locked the whole time, watching the wonder, the relief, the love she revealed as he thrust with gentle mercilessness through the tight cavern. Feeling the sheath give for him, let him in, and when he slid home - so finally home, engulfed in her body, as close as two people could go - his name spilled from her lips on a heartfelt whisper.

  Holding still, he just watched her, losing himself in the hazy desire of her eyes, the blossoming heat that dipped low in his belly, so full of love, so full of heat, wanting to both plunge into her and yet love her tenderly, glorying in the fact that he was finally, once again, one with her.

  “Ella mine.”

  She pressed against his hands. “Let me.” Her voice as husky as his.

  He released her hands and immediately she twined them around his neck, pulling him close.

  Bracing his hands each side of her head both enabled him to be drawn down to her kiss, and to start thrusting slowly into her.

  She was hungry, he could taste it in her possession of his mouth, but there was also tenderness in the way she held onto him, so very clearly not wanting to let him move from her.

  Her knees bent, the soft insides of her thighs brushing against his hips as he continued to thrust in a slow rhythm.

  The urgency had tempered, now it was sweet, knowing each other as she finally released him so they could gaze into each others eyes while he continued the tender invasion of her body, claiming her once more, rejoicing in their togetherness.

  Feeling so much love it overwhelmed him.

  The fire was there but the emotion between them, the acknowledged feelings still so very evident that they didn’t hide from each other, made it so much sweeter, a light that burned with a cherished flame.

  The urgency was replaced with the need for gentleness, with enjoying each other, filling themselves with each others scent, smoothing their hands over bodies once so familiar, still so even after all the years that had passed.

  The desire washing through him had an exquisite knot of heat at the base of his spine, his shaft swelling as he continued to pump deep inside her. He saw the passion burn in her eyes, felt the flutter of her sheath as she lifted her hips to meet him, welcoming the perfectly timed undulation of her body beneath his.

  The lovemaking was a dance they’d done before, they knew each others bodies so well, knew what the other liked, loved, and they fell back into the pattern so naturally.

  But gentleness aside, ardour had its way of working on the body. Ryan’s strokes strengthened, becoming forceful as rising pleasure splintered through him.

  Her soft moans of pleasure became more ragged, her nails again digging lightly into his back before she grabbed onto his upper arms, fingers clenching around the bulge of his biceps and triceps. Holding onto him as her hot cream coated him, spilled from her to moisten his sac as each thrust tapped it erotically against her perineum.

  When Ella reached out to the side to wrap her hand in the sheet, dragged it into her fist, arched her neck to press her head into the pillow, Ryan knew she was close. He changed angle, found that sweet spot inside her, nudged it with every thrust.

  “Oh, God. Ryan!” She started to writhe beneath him, losing her rhythm as carnal desire swept through her.

  Ryan watched the change in her, watched her eyes go from dreaminess to darkening as the storm of rapacity started to fill her. As her body finally took over, desire riding her.

  Only then did he let go, let the concupiscence overwhelm him, take over, his thrusts harder, stronger, faster as he crested the heat burgeoning through his loins. The fiery rope of sexual heat snapping inside him, coiling deep in his sac, scouring down his spine to spread out low and hot, his heart thundering as he continued to pound into her, riding that wave, feeling it swell high, felt the first trembling of the orgasm shaking them both, the crystal fragility starting to shake, splinter, but just before it shattered he refocussed on her, found her looking right up at him, both of them having a split second crystal clear moment of clarity.

  Of awareness.

  He actually stilled.

  “Ella mine.” Heat and love combined in his low, harsh tone.

  “Ryan.” Her voice was ragged, husky.

  Drawing out until just the tip of his shaft was inside her, he kept their gazes locked and thrust hard.

  Just once.

  It tipped them both over.

  Head back, he shuddered as the raking heat shoved down inside him, the fiery rope of desire balling high in his sac, pouring forth, crystal splintering through him, heart pounding, feeling as though he was being flung away under a frothing, rolling wave.

  His hips jerked against her as his seed poured out, filling her, marking her inside as his.

  Just before he lost it completely he wrapped his arms around her, pressed down against her, felt her wrap her arms around him in turn as she clung to him, as he fused their mouths together while they rode out the erotic storm, falling completely to pieces in each others arms.

  **

  As the rolling waves gradually ebbed and finally drew bac
k, Ryan slowly drifted back to earth, immediately aware of Ella in his arms clinging to him. Carefully he lifted up onto his forearms, using one hand to push several golden strands of hair from her face.

  Ella’s eyes fluttered open. She looked up at him.

  Tenderness washing through him, he smiled.

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Ella?”

  “Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t say anything.” More tears came.

  Rolling onto his side, Ryan took her with him, gathering her against him. She tucked her head under his chin, pressed close, and he curled around her, sheltering her in his arms.

  She continued to cry softly.

  Ryan gazed into the dimness of the room as the woman he loved more than life itself wept, her tears damp against his chest. Knowing he was the cause of her sadness weighed heavily. But he wasn’t going to let her go.

  Gradually the tears died down and she relaxed, her breathing slowing, steadying as she fell asleep in his arms.

  Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Ryan nestled closer, closed his eyes and finally slept.

  With his Ella in his arms.

  **

  Waking slowly, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so soundly. But something was amiss. Someone was missing. He felt the emptiness in his arms straight away.

  Ella was gone.

  Throwing back the Doona, he swung out of bed quickly. Taking time only to yank on his pants, he was zipping and buttoning even as he strode out into the hallway, only to stop when he heard a faint sound.

  The fountain? Yes, he could hear the soothing tinkle of the water. But something else…

  Moving swiftly through the small hall, he turned into the main spacious hallway. He had an idea now where Ella had gone, the light spilling from the doorway another giveaway.

  Stopping in the lounge room doorway, his eyes went directly to her. Dressed once more, hair pulled back into a ponytail, she was sitting on the piano bench, her fingers lightly stroking the keys. On one of his mother’s saucers atop the piano stood a glass of what looked like the apple juice from his ‘fridge.

  He relaxed slightly. Okay, she’d stayed, had fossicked in his ‘fridge and then retreated to the lounge. No doubt her feelings were mixed, the sound of the fountain drawing her to its tranquillity.

  Moving further in, he studied her. God, the memory of her beneath him, soaring with him, the sheer wonder of being with her again was indescribable, would stay with him forever. A cherished memory, one he’d be making reality for the rest of their lives.

  Not just an echo, but real. So very real.

  Ella stopped fiddling with the keys to glance at him over her shoulder. The expression in her eyes made his heart trip. Sad, lost, uncertain. Scared.

  Before he could do more than take another step toward her, she switched her attention back to the piano and started playing. The tune was familiar, one he’d played a couple of times but tended to skip over.

  Moving closer, he looked at the music book on the rack, read the title - ‘My Immortal’ by Everesance.

  Ella might not play as expertly as he, had always laughingly joked that he was the gifted one, but she played this song with an assuredness that could only come from a tune played often.

  And as the words came to him, he felt her pain, her sadness.

  She was talking to him through this song.

  Now he felt her aching loneliness over the years, her despair, her determination to forget him. Her inability to do so. A reminder of those times she’d stood by his side.

  A lump rose in his throat. Leaning against the side of the piano, his attention focussed on her as she played, pouring her feelings, her emotions, into the music, making the song throb in his soul.

  How she’d felt. What she’d been through. What he’d done to her, how her emotional wounds had never healed.

  In his own fear and sorrow, he’d been such a blind, stupid fool.

  He didn’t try to stop her - he owed her that and so much more - let her express herself the best she knew how, and he listened, thought about the words, absorbed the meanings.

  Finally the music drifted off and she simply sat, her hands in her lap before she took a deep breath and reached for the cold glass of apple juice.

  He handed it to her and she swallowed several mouthfuls before finally looking up at him and proffering the glass.

  Taking it, he drained the last of the sweet juice and placed it back on the saucer atop the piano before sitting beside her on the bench. When she made to get up he shook his head, laid his hand on her thigh, gently squeezed, so she slid over to give him room but remained seated.

  He didn’t need to find the book that contained the music for the song that said everything he felt, everything he wanted her to know. He knew it by heart. Thought it the only thing he could play in answer to her heartbreaking revelation.

  ‘Always on My Mind’ by Elvis Presley filled the air as Ryan played with his heart. Every note carried reassurance, acknowledgment, his regret, his own heartache, his love for her, the fact he’d never forgotten her, everything he wanted to say to Ella. Everything he desperately wanted her to know.

  Needed her to know.

  She sat still, her arm so close to his, and then as the song started to near the end slowly, ever so slowly, her hand crept out to rest lightly on his thigh.

  It touched him to his soul, but he knew he had to finish this song, had to play it through completely. So he did. And finally, as the last note died away, he placed his hand over hers, warmth rushing through him when she turned hers over to link her fingers through his and squeezed.

  For several seconds they sat facing the piano before he looked down at her. Gravely, they studied each other.

  Finally, she said, “Talk to me.”

  Chapter 7

  The courtyard had to be one of the most serene places she’d ever sat.

  When she’d slid from Ryan’s arms and bed it had been with the intention of leaving. Watching him sleep, his hard, handsome face for once free of brooding, those lips that had kissed her so gently relaxed without the hint of cruelty. Cruelty he’d never shown her. On his back, one arm flung out across her pillow, his other bent across his muscle-ribbed abdomen.

  His physique had always been totally ripped, the years he’d been away toughening and hardening him in both body and mind. When he shifted slightly, bent his arm, the bicep bulged. Sheer strength, power, yet he’d cradled her to him as gently as though she’d been a fragile kitten.

  Had made love to her with tenderness - well, before they’d both gotten swept up in a wash of sexual heat and desire. But she couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at her, the love in his eyes.

  Holding her ballet flats in her hand as she’d tip-toed to the front door, it was the memory of the love that had made her pause. He still loved her. She still loved him. Was it enough to wash away the pain? Enough to make her trust him again?

  As she’d stood there mulling it over, the sound of water trickling had caught her attention and she’d looked through the lounge room doorway to see the open glass doors on the other side of the large room leading out into the courtyard. The fountain was trickling water, the ferns were soft and green, and the tranquillity of it drew her across the room, the soft lighting giving it a secret, peaceful aura.

  Then she’d seen the piano. The lid was up, a music sheet propped up on the music rack. Ryan had always played the piano, played it well. Apparently that hadn’t changed.

  What else hadn’t changed?

  She looked back towards the hallway through which his bedroom lay. She could walk out but he’d follow. Truth was, she didn’t want to leave. Sharing that bed, sharing the most intimate of acts, had only brought home how much she still loved him. Wanted him.

  He wanted to start afresh. The question was, could she? Could she forgive him? Learn to trust him again? She’d found herself waiting for his phone call to say he was back in the city, and when she got his message
all she could do was sit and stare at the phone. She hadn’t meant to contact him again, called herself all sorts of a fool, but something tugged at her, drew her, made her change her mind a dozen different times in several short hours.

  The truth was, she couldn’t stay away. She wasn’t surprised to find neither his name, phone number nor his address listed, so she rang Wells Security. Raymond answered. She expected him to refuse to divulge the address but he surprised her by giving it, adding, “Ryan gave permission if you ever asked.”

  She’d driven over, and the rest…well.

  Before he even reached over her shoulder to place the glass of icy cold Coke on the little table, she felt Ryan’s presence. She certainly didn’t miss the brush of his lips across the top of her head - fleeting, so lightly most people wouldn’t even feel it, but she was too attuned to his ways not to. Picking up the glass, she took a mouthful as he sat down in the chair opposite her.

  After placing his own glass on the table, he stretched out his legs, crossed his bare ankles, rested his forearm on the table, his other hand relaxed on his thigh, and regarded her quietly from dark brown eyes.

  Right then every hard line, the hint of cruelty, the tightly leashed dangerous edge, wasn’t evident. But he wasn’t the same man she knew years ago, it was plain to see.

  Then again, they’d both changed. She certainly wasn’t the same woman.

  In silence they regarded each other. It wasn’t uncomfortable - silence between them never had been - but there was a wealth of emotion and explanations lying between them.

  Finally, lifting the glass, Ryan took a sip while observing her across the rim before placing it precisely back onto the table. “I’ll start at the beginning.”

  “Best place to start.”

  “Any questions, any comments, feel free to break in.”

  “Don’t worry. I will.”

  His eyes crinkled a little at the corners before he grew serious. “I’ve always loved you. Never stopped. From the moment I laid eyes on you in high school and saw your smile, I knew you were the one for me.” He didn’t go all dreamy-eyed, his gaze locked levelly on hers. “Getting engaged once we finished school, moving in together, the plan for marriage, it was a natural step for us. Everyone who knew us expected it. You never once tried to talk me out of joining the Army, you even stood with me against my parents when they objected.”