On a sexy growl of approval, Sean picked her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. With their height difference, this new position made it easier for them to kiss. It brought her level with him. Equal.
“Keys,” he murmured against her lips as he carried her toward her apartment door. Not wanting to lose contact with his lips, Ivy blindly dug her hand inside her purse. When the cool metal touched her palm, she yanked her keys out and pushed them into his hand.
With one arm anchored under her bottom, his free hand worked the key in the keyhole, his mouth never leaving hers. He pressed her against the door, his tongue exploring the depth of her mouth, his one hand firmly squeezing both cheeks of her ass until, finally, the click of the lock gave way, and he walked them over the threshold of her apartment.
Running her hands over his hair, she inhaled his kisses and rubbed her lower body against the hard ridge under his jeans. She heard Sean kick the door closed behind them at the same moment a curse ripped from his mouth.
“Jesus, Ivy. You’re killing me. Fucking killing me.”
Ivy couldn’t relate, since she’d never been this alive in her life. Had never imagined she could after—everything. But every part of her body was hot with desire and pulsing with need.
“Couch,” she panted. Locking her arms tighter around his neck as she brought his lips back to hers. She relished in the masculine noises emanating from deep in his throat.
And then she was being lowered onto the soft cushions. One warm, firm hand found its way under her shirt and caressed her stomach, moving up to her chest. The other slid down her thigh, bending her leg at the knee and pulling it tight against his hard, muscled leg. The touches, the grinding, the kissing, it was primal. Everything she had been seeking. A desperate, mutual, sexual encounter to counteract the darkness inside her.
And then the weight of his body fell over her, and she was catapulted back to another night. A night where another body had fallen over her, heavy and unwanted. She’d been pinned so that she couldn’t move, not even enough for her hands to get between them so she could push back. She’d been crushed so she couldn’t breathe, her screams trapped in her throat as a rough hand clamped over her mouth. Tears blurred her vision, and the heaviness totally and completely swallowed her. It had been like a drowning.
As Ivy once again let herself go under rather than suffer the weight of suffocation, the heaviness vanished. The pressure released, replaced with a cold weightlessness that left her startled and gasping. But it was the curse, low and vicious, that brought her back to reality.
Blinking her way out of the haze, Ivy shoved herself up to her elbows as she tried to focus on the space around her. Her couch, her apartment. Sean stood a few feet away, scrubbing his palms over his face roughly as he cursed again.
And realization hit her. The worst had happened. The flashbacks had taken over right when she was supposed to be losing herself in the pleasure of Sean’s strong, safe arms. Drawing her knees tight against her chest, Ivy huddled into the far corner of the couch and hugged herself. In that moment, she knew—she’d never erase the memory of what happened. It was doomed to live inside her. Forever.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stuttered, not even wanting to think about what a broken mess Sean must think she was.
But he dropped his hands from his face and stared at her. His features a hard, unreadable mask. In two long strides, he was in front of her, dropping to his knees. “Not your fault,” he ground out in a strangled voice. Tentatively, he lifted his hand toward her. “Can I?”
When she nodded, he brushed her hair off her cheek where it had been stuck to her skin by tears she hadn’t realized she’d cried. His gaze locked with hers, searching, and a moment passed between them wherein Ivy would have sworn he’d glimpsed every reel of her past like a slideshow.
Abruptly, he pushed off of his knees and away from her again. “Fuck!” he roared, pacing the length of her living room, fingers interlocked behind his neck, biceps flexing hard, like he was struggling against the urge to lash out.
No wonder he’d declined her friends-with-benefits request. He couldn’t deal with her baggage any more than she could. She’d ruined whatever friendship had been left between them.
After a few tense moments where neither of them spoke, and the only thing that could be heard in the whole apartment was the harsh sounds of Sean’s breathing, he finally spun to face her and said, “Get your running clothes on.”
Ivy blinked up at him, trying to follow his train of thought. “What?” she croaked, her voice still thick with the emotional agony of her flashback.
Sean’s eyes hardened at the sound. “We’re going for a run,” he bit out. “Together.” He held out his hand to her, which she stared at for several seconds before she gave him hers. Gently, he tugged her to her feet. “I need to burn off some of this energy, and you do as well, and I am not leaving you alone right now. So, get changed and come with me. Please,” he added, more softly.
“Oh.” Of course, he would know exactly what would work for her. She needed to reset, get back into the moment, breathe in the fresh air off the river, and purge the ugliness of the memories that refused to loosen their grip on her.
“Unless you want to…” he said slowly, almost reluctantly. “You know, be left alone.”
Ivy shook her head vigorously. Hell no, she did not want to be left alone right now. Not when her flashbacks could turn into a surge of restless nightmares in no time. She scrambled to her feet, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she saw a flash of relief cross Sean’s face. “Give me a second.”
By the time she dressed and exited her apartment, Sean was stretching in the hallway. She took in the sight of his tall, extremely fit body covered in shorts and a long-sleeved athletic top that hugged every tight ridge of his abdominals, and cursed herself again for being so damaged. If she was normal, she’d be wrapped around that hard body right now, naked, and probably screaming his name until her voice was hoarse. Heat flooded her body simply thinking about it. How could she respond so quickly to the mere thought of him, but shut down at his touch?
God, why was she sobroken?
“Ready?” he asked, his gaze trailing down her body. He wasn’t looking at her in any way that might be deemed sexual. If anything, it was more like he was searching her for injuries. Little did he know they were all on the inside.
Still, every part of her warmed under his appraisal. Then his head snapped up, and he had his gonna-kick-your-ass fitness trainer look in his eyes.
“Ready,” she affirmed.
“Let’s do this then.” He turned toward the staircase, and Ivy followed where he led.
He ran her mercilessly, almost as if he’d forgotten she was beside him struggling to keep up not only with his pace, but his six-foot-five gait. Anytime Ivy looked over at Sean, his face was an unreadable mask. He stared straight ahead, breathing hard through his nose until finally he deemed they’d run far enough to turn back.
