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A Summer Rain
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CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
About the Author
Copyright (C) November , Raquel Mulgrew Cover art by Anastasia Rabiyah (C) November Amira Press Charlotte, NC
www.amirapress.com ISBN: ----
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.
Chapter One
Not long after the rain had started, Shana pulled in the window handles and locked the latch. It was pouring outside.
When she'd left the house that morning, it had been quite a promising Chicago day. The sun was high in the sky, and the weather was temperate enough for her to wear her favorite yellow-and-red floral sundress. But the scattered clouds clustered together, blackening the skies, and water spilled to the ground without warning. Even the weather forecasters hadn't seen this one coming—not that she thought they were particularly adept at accurate prediction, anyway.
Shana stepped into the house just in time to miss the brunt of the rain, but too late to save the seat cushions on her bay window from a drenching. She cursed the weather and gathered up the cushions to dry them.
The dryer was just starting its cycle when the doorbell chimed. But it didn't just ring. It let off three rapid-fire bursts then one long ring before repeating the pattern. Shana's heart fluttered, and she froze where she stood.
Only one person ever rang her doorbell like that...
Shana rushed to the door, pausing only to check her appearance in the hall mirror. Her straight, black hair, dampened by the rain, rested heavily on her shoulders. Her dress hugged her comfortably at the waist, emphasizing her slender figure. She loved this dress. Whenever she wore it, she was the center of male attention making her feel sexy and confident. She liked the way it contrasted with her dark brown skin. The ruffled front accented her modest bosom and the bottom swung loosely over her shapely legs.
Shana brushed the stray strands of hair from her face and smoothed her fingers along the length of her dress.
Satisfied, she turned toward the door. Grasping the cool metal, her fingers trembled. She steadied herself, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She opened the door, and there was Robert. He stood there drenched in the sudden downpour of the summer storm. He had no umbrella, raincoat, or any other form of protection. It seemed he'd been just as unprepared as she was for the torrential surprise, and he was soaked to the bone.
Shana stood with the door wide open, dumbfounded at what she saw before her. She hadn't spoken to, nor seen Robert in a year, and yet here he was, looking like a sad and wet puppy at her doorstep. They lived only a few miles from each other, but neither had ever had the occasion to stop by.
Not after what happened between the two of them.
Shana's mind suddenly flashed back to the last time she'd seen him...
"Why are you standing out there , silly?" Shana asked, holding the door open for Robert in the entryway. "Come on in. I made your favorite, chicken Marsala and mashed potatoes."
He smiled.
"I can't stay," Robert said in an almost inaudible tone. "I just—I wanted to see you."
"You just got here. Where do you have to go?"
"Shana, I... I can't really talk about it."
Shana eyed him curiously. It was obvious there was something amiss.
"What's wrong, Robert?"
"Nothing. Just trust me, okay? I'll be back soon."
"Robert..."
"Shana!" Robert exclaimed with mild impatience. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Shana noticed the bruised knuckles on his right hand. She thought to inquire about their origin, but pushed the thought from her mind
"Trust me. I need you to do that for me. Can you?"
Shana backed up and viewed the figure in front of her with confusion. What was he doing?
"Yes?" Robert asked.
"Yes," Shana said shyly. "But what...?"
Robert cut off her inquiry with a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her tight, lingering there as if it would be their last. He rested his forehead on hers and kissed her nose. He finally broke their embrace and turned to leave.
"I love you," Shana said with an abruptness that made Robert freeze in his tracks.
It was the first time either of them had uttered the words to each other. They spilled forth from Shana and hung in the air like a billowy cloud. She held her breath and waited for his response. After seconds of nothing but silence, the three words that had patiently hung above them seemed to evaporate into a distant memory.
Shana felt chilled at Robert's lack of response. How could he not say anything ? She stood there, vulnerable, wishing he would reciprocate her words. But silence was her answer.
She'd wanted to tell him this so many times in the past, but never had the courage. They'd been together for over six months, and tonight, she had decided she was going to say what she had wanted to for so long. But even if he didn't feel the same, she still deserved a response.
From behind, Shana watched his shoulders hunch. He still hadn't turned around to face her. The fact that he couldn't return her glance spoke volumes.
"Robert? You have nothing you want to say?" Her lips trembled at the words. "At all?"
Robert turned and stole a quick glimpse toward her, then looked down to the ground. He was quiet—too quiet. Shana knew he always got that way when he was thinking.
He walked back up to her, as if he had finally figured out what he wanted to say. His eyes widened, and his face looked sad. He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.
"I have to go. I'm sorry."
Shana's eyes welled with tears as she stood aghast at the man in front of her. She wanted to yell and scream, but she couldn't think of anything to say. No words could convey the anger and hurt welling inside her, so she stood in the doorway, dazed. Soon, all she heard was the thunderous beating of her heart. It was rapid and out of rhythm. Her vision dimmed in slow increments, and soon, everything had gone dark. It wasn't until his voice broke the silence that she realized her eyes were closed and she felt the sting of hot tears stream down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," he said again. She opened her eyes only to see him standing in the doorway looking lost and confused.
"I'll be back, I promise." He gave her a pained smile and turned out the door
That was the last Shana Sanders had seen Robert Wilcox
...until today. The last place she had seen him was in the very spot he stood right now.
Chapter Two
"What are you doing here?" Shana asked, finding herself back in the present, staring up at the man who had been, up until now, MIA.
Robert looked at her, his green eyes piercing through her as they had easily done so many times before. His dark brown hair clung to his forehead as beads of water dripped over his nose and down his cheeks. His black buttoned shirt clung to his chiseled chest while his drenched blue jeans weighted the leather belt around his waist.
He looked miserable, but he said nothing.<
br />
Shana gave him a once-over and shook her head. "Well, come on in before you die of pneumonia out there."
She stepped back, and Robert came in through the archway of her house and stood in the foyer while Shana closed and locked the front door behind him. She walked toward the kitchen and he followed her, his shoes squeaking on the freshly waxed floor, leaving small puddles of water as he went.
She eyed his wet clothes and, for a moment, thought about offering to throw them in the dryer, but then decided against it as she wasn't planning to let him stay long enough for them to dry.
"I about figured you for dead," Shana said as she stood on her tiptoes to reach the cocoa on the top shelf in the kitchen.
"Something wrong with your cell phone?" she asked, setting down the container and flipping off the lid. "Because I'm quite sure I've sent a few messages your way with no response."
Robert remained silent with his eyes locked on her. He looked down at himself, perhaps to assess how ridiculous he must look in his sopping wet clothes. Shana watched as he seemed to absentmindedly pull his shirt from his pants and begin to wring its tails onto the floor. A quick glance at the wide-eyed look on Shana's face gave him pause. She knew he was very familiar with her " I wish you would! " look, and relenting, let his wrinkled, wet shirt fall over the top of his jeans.
"Cat got your tongue, or am I getting the silent treatment?" Shana asked as she stepped closer to him and narrowed her eyes.
Still nothing. His silence was almost deafening. She stepped back a bit to take him all in. His drenched hair, his pale skin from the cold downpour he didn't seem to care he'd gotten caught in, and the intense look in his eyes made her think something was seriously wrong.
"Robert, what are you doing her—?"
Her words were cut off by the weight of his body pressing hers against the refrigerator door, his lips claiming hers in a way so foreign, and yet so familiar at the same time. His wet clothes pressed against her body felt hot at first, then cold as the dampness permeated her dress.
His kiss was powerful. His tongue felt divine as it paved the way through its old stomping grounds, teasing at her lips in one moment, then quietly consuming her mouth in the next.
Shana's knees weakened beneath her, and she was certain she would have hit the ground if not for the luck of being sandwiched between the fridge and the sexiest man she'd ever known.
Robert's mouth released hers, and Shana's knees strengthened just in time to prevent her toppling to the floor.
Her eyes fluttered open, and all she could see were his emerald green eyes staring back at her.
"I've missed you," Robert said at last, interrupting Shana's erotic trance. Those were the first words he had uttered since he stepped through her front door almost ten minutes ago.
Hell, those were the first words she had heard from him in over a year. She felt his cold, damp hand glide over her skin, brushing at the dress strap that now hung just off the soft curve of her shoulder.
Shana shuddered and licked her lips, still tasting him on her flesh. She did have words for him, and all she had to do was clear her mind and enunciate, but that was all a lot easier said than done. She hated how easy it was for him to throw her off kilter.
"If I remember correctly, you're the one who left me, Robert," she said as she pulled the spaghetti strap of her dress back over her shoulder. "So you don't get to show up at my doorstep like some lovesick schoolboy and pretend like everything's okay." She looked up at him and folded her arms in front of her.
"I know," he said. His eyes seemed to plead with hers.
"Forgive me, Shana. I had some things that needed to be taken care of. The last thing in the world I ever wanted to do was hurt you." His hand quickly snaked up the front of her dress. His cool fingers pressed at the stiffening bulb between her thighs. Shana squealed and pushed him away.
"Robert!" she cried as she backed away from him in shock.
The look of embarrassment on his face told her he was just as surprised by his actions as she was. It appeared instinctive. When they had been together, Shana was used to him touching her in this way, but now it seemed inappropriate and she was very well aware he knew it too.
"Fuck, I'm sorry, Shana. I didn't mean to... You have to know that."
She tried to brush past him and get back over to the counter, but he caught her arm with his hand and leaned in.
His wet hair was still releasing droplets of water that seemed to sizzle as it pelted her skin.
"Please don't walk away from me, Shana," he whispered.
"I just want to talk."
She froze, feeling his hot breath on her neck. Dammit, he was fine. It had been a long and painful journey, but she believed she had gotten over him and was happy living her life without the constant reminder of not waking up next to his warm body, feeling his expert hands over her flesh, and his kisses that sparked a thousand-and-one wet dreams. Eros was toying with her, and Shana felt she was now this close to succumbing to Robert's whims all over again.
It didn't help that he knew her as well as he did. It was nothing but an advantage to him to be able to reduce her to putty in his hands in an instant. He was good at it, and they both knew it. There was no contest. Robert won this battle every time.
She gave him the benefit of the doubt and hiked herself up onto the kitchen counter, figuring it was smart to keep a safe distance from his mounting advances. She folded her arms in front of her again and waited for him to speak.
Robert turned to face her. He walked toward the counter and rested his hand on her thigh. "I wanted to call you, Shana. Believe me. You have no idea how much I've thought about you over the past year. The hardest thing I've ever done was walk away from you that night."
"So you just decided to show up at my doorstep and pretend like nothing happened?"
Robert looked down at his shoes and rubbed his hand along her outer thigh. He didn't seem to have an answer for that.
"How do you even know I'm not seeing someone, Robert?"
The thought apparently hadn't occurred to him. His gaze met hers again with wide, expectant eyes. " Are you?"
Shana looked away and pursed her lips. "That's none of your business, is it?" They both knew that was a "no," and Robert looked relieved. He smiled, and his hand slowly navigated north to her hip and rested there.
"I know you're angry with me. You have every right to be.
I just needed to tell you, in person, that I'm sorry. It couldn't be helped."
She could feel his fingers pinching into her flesh as his eyes darkened. Shana recognized this look. He wanted her.
The desire in his eyes was unmistakable, and his hand seemed to tremble on her hip as though it was taking all the strength he had not to ravish her where she sat. He leaned in closer until their lips were just a breath apart.
"I know I have no right to expect your forgiveness, Shana.
Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it." His face was sincere, and his eyes pleaded for mercy.
The feeling of his hot breath on her skin was captivating.
When he leaned in even closer and let his lips brush along the side of her neck, Shana shuddered. His lips moved to capture her earlobe, and all at once, she was lost. That was the one thing she couldn't resist and they both knew it. She always went weak when he nibbled her ear, and apparently, he hadn't forgotten it.
Almost as if by instinct, Shana's hand reached between his thighs. The fondly remembered rigidness beneath her fingers aroused her almost to the point of insanity. She wondered how long he'd been hard. Was it just now, since the first kiss, or from the moment he'd walked through the door? The feel of his hands sliding up her dress once again—this time unabated—brought her back into the moment. His fingers slipped past the soft material of her panties and caressed her clit as wetness wept from her folds. His fingers teased at her opening as her hand freed its plaything from the confines of his wet jeans. The hot, silky feel of him in her hands again sent goose pimples all
over her body.
All at once, Shana felt consumed. Robert's breath came out in hard, audible gasps, and his hands maniacally assaulted her body, pulling and rubbing at cloth and skin, seeming desperate to cover every inch of her at once. His sense of urgency was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.
The next thing she felt was the thin fabric of her panties being snatched from her body and discarded to the floor.
Robert pulled Shana forward on the counter and positioned himself at her opening. He lifted her leg up and rested it in the crease of his arm. Their eyes met as he pushed inside her, taking her breath away with his entry.
Robert moved in and out of her with excruciating slowness, his mouth devouring her neck with every entry. Shana could do little more than throw her head back and close her eyes amidst the mind-numbing sensations running through her.
She had honestly forgotten how good it felt to be with him, to have him inside of her like this, and she hated him like hell for reminding her.
She hated herself for just letting him walk into her house after more than a year and take her this way. Who the fuck did he think he was? And why did he think he had some sort of endless and unspoken claim on her body? That she would just be here, legs spread and ready, whenever he felt the need to have her? These thoughts raced in and out of her mind, continually being pushed aside by the exquisite feel of his cock inside her body. He knew how to push her buttons, and above all, he knew how to make her body come alive, how to make her beg for him. The bastard, she thought. She just wished she had the strength to reject him.
No words were spoken while their bodies united again and again. Pants, grunts, and sighs escaped them as they struggled in vain to become one. Robert dug his fingers deep into her hips, holding her steady as he plunged into her, his body rocking hers back and forth on the counter as he did.
The container of cocoa had been knocked aside and spilled onto the floor long ago, much to the relative indifference to them both.