Maya Banks - Sweet Addiction

The next thing she became aware of was being held in Cole’s arms. The rope was gone and he was gently rocking her back and forth, her head tucked beneath his chin.

He kissed her in between whispers, though she had no idea what he was saying. His hands slipped up and down her body, caressing and soothing. They were on the bed and it bewildered her that so much time had passed without her knowledge.

Without even realizing it, she wound her arms around Cole’s neck and turned her face further into his neck. He shifted her in his arms so she’d be more comfortable and then held her just as tightly.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

He stroked her hair and for a moment he didn’t speak. When he did, his voice cracked just a bit. Almost as if he’d had to take the time to compose himself to answer.

“I missed you too, darling Ren. So very much. I can’t tell you how much joy it brings me to have you back in my arms.”

She kissed his neck, inhaled his masculine scent, let it surround her and dance through her nostrils.

“I can’t let you go again,” he said in a voice so low she almost couldn’t hear him. “I won’t let you go.”

Cole was awake early, as was his habit, but this morning he didn’t hurry to get out of bed. Today he awoke to a warm, soft body draped across his chest. Ren was sprawled over him, one leg curled over his and inserted between his knees. One arm was flung over his belly and her cheek rested against his chest.

He had his arms full of everything he’d ever wanted and he had no desire to end the moment. So he lay there, his arm wrapped around her body, stroking through her hair, listening to her breathe.

And he realized he’d never been happier than right here, right now. A month ago he would have said he was content. Satisfied. Or maybe it was that he was resigned.

He’d thought of Ren less and less as the years wore on. She had been relegated to his past. A part of a painful mistake he was forced to admit he’d made. Only when he’d seen her again, had he realized just how much he missed her presence in his life. How much he wanted her back. There was no possible way he could see someone ten years later and have that kind of reaction to if he wasn’t still seriously hung up on her.

Ten years was a damn long time. A lifetime for most. People did a hell of a lot of changing in a decade. He’d certainly changed. So had Ren. And yet in many ways they hadn’t.

The saying went that you couldn’t go back, but he could damn well go forward. With her.

He tilted his head down so he could kiss her forehead. She stirred and stretched sleepily before snuggling deeper into his embrace. He kissed her again simply because he couldn’t resist.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she settled her unfocused gaze on him.

“Mornin’,” she murmured.

“Morning.”

He wanted to turn her over and slide into the satiny clasp of her body. Wanted it more than he wanted to breathe. But he’d been rough on her the night before. He’d taken her many times and had used her hard. She was likely tender and he in no way wanted to cause her discomfort.

She pushed up on one elbow, her hair falling like a curtain onto his shoulder and over his chest. “I need to work this morning,” she said almost apologetically.

“Of course. I won’t interfere in your writing. I’ll come get you for lunch. Lucas said you have a bad habit of forgetting to eat.”

This time she didn’t seem to mind the mention of the other man in her life. He hoped in time she would become numb to hearing Lucas’s name.

She twisted her lips into a rueful smile. “Unfortunately he’s right. I tend to get caught up in things and let time get away from me. I’ve fallen asleep at my desk more than once.”

“Well, you have a few hours of work time before I haul you out for lunch.”

She grinned and leaned down to kiss him. “Deal.”

It felt odd to walk into the spacious room Cole had allocated as her work area. She was used to the study Lucas had set up for her. She was comfortable there. Knew where everything was. The furniture suited her. She even loved her desk.

Cole had certainly gone the extra mile to make her comfortable and he’d been exceedingly generous, but it was still new and unfamiliar.

Someone had unpacked all her things and had even arranged them, or had at least attempted the task. She began rearranging, needing the comfort of knowing things were where they should be and in order.

The first hour she spent putting her art supplies in order. By then she was itching to start creating so she settled at the desk and pulled out the leather-bound journal that had the first draft of her writing and her sketches.

Her process was likely more complicated than most, but it suited her and it gave her a measure of comfort. She always did preliminary sketches and the rough draft writing in the journal. When she was satisfied that she had things as she wanted, she then made hard copies that she’d eventually turn in to her publisher.

For each book she bought a different journal. She loved the feel of paper bound in leather. The pages had been faux weathered to give it a worn, aged look. And the cover was leather so worn and soft that she loved to caress it with her fingertips.

She was a very tactile person. She loved touch. Needed it. Lucas—and now Cole—gave her what she needed. They were openly affectionate with her. They seemed to need to touch her as much as she needed to be touched. Not every man she’d been with had been cognizant of her needs or perhaps they simply didn’t care to meet them.

But she found she suffered when she was denied close, personal contact. Which was contradictory given how closely she guarded her personal space and only trusted a few to get close enough to ever touch her.

She loved comfortable things, though. Shoes, furniture, journals. She surrounded herself with things that felt good and appealed to her senses.

But above all she needed and desired structure and routine.

She caressed the cover of the journal before opening it to the last page where she’d drawn the last sketch. Her pencils were in a cup to her right, colors in order of light to dark. As she reached for one to touch up a few lines in the picture, her cell phone signaled an incoming text.

Excitement surged through her. Lucas wasn’t much on texting. He much preferred direct communication, but she’d hoped that he’d at least contact her during the two weeks she was with Cole. Surely he would at least make sure she was happy.

She dug her phone out of the pocket of her jeans and opened the text. It was from her friend Savonna. She tried not to allow disappointment to eat at her. She shouldn’t even be thinking about Lucas.

Saw Lucas at club last night. Where were U?

For a long moment, Ren stared at the text, battling her reaction to it. Then, slowly, she blanked the screen and put the phone aside, not replying to the question. What could she say anyway? Lucas is moving on so he hooked me up with another guy. Yeah, like that wasn’t twisted.

It took all of her discipline not to text back and ask Savonna if Lucas had been there with another woman. The simple truth was there were some questions you didn’t want to know the answer to.

She picked up her pencil. A soft lavender she’d intended to touch up the morning sky over the lake in one of her drawings. It shook in her hand and doubt crowded into her mind despite her best effort not to dwell on Lucas.

Give yourself a break, Ren. No one in the world would be over a break up in a few days, no matter that they had this gorgeous, hunky, beautiful man to turn to.

But still she wished there was a switch that she could just flip and turn it all off. The doubt, the fear, the worry and the sadness.

The pencil dropped from clumsy fingers onto the open journal and the drawing of two young children sitting on a dock, feet in the water, watching as the sun rose higher in the sky.

Idly she turned back the pages, going back through the story, studying each of the drawings and the simple story of childhood in all its innocence.

Tears gathered as realization hit her. Maybe it had been in her subconscious all along but she’d never seen it until now. This was so much the story of her and Cole. Happier days. The sweetness of first love and the sadness that accompanied that first good-bye.

Even before she’d seen Cole again, she’d channeled those memories into this book. Perhaps it was her way of letting go. Only now he was back in her life. Why couldn’t she have met him again a year ago when she was coming off her relationship with Grant? There were no obstacles, no barriers, nothing at all to get in the way of their reunion.

She dropped her head as she slowly and carefully closed the journal. There would be no work done today. Instead she reached for her artist pad, opened it to a blank page and then chose the black charcoal pencil from the jar.

Cole checked his watch and then turned in the direction of the sunroom. He’d waited as long as possible. He hadn’t wanted to part with Ren even for a few hours to give her time to work. He’d busied himself with phone calls and catching up on e-mail, but his concentration was shot.

After sending an e-mail to the wrong person, he’d given up trying to go through the motions of work at all.

He paused at the doorway, watching as Ren bent over, pencil in hand, her face creased with concentration. Her bottom lip was sucked between her teeth and she scraped absently with her top teeth as she stared down at her creation.