The Spark by Vi Keeland
CHAPTER 28
Autumn
“Hey.”
Donovan grinned at me from the other side of the door, and butterflies started to dance in my stomach. God, he’s delicious. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to invite him to hang out at my apartment tonight. He noticed my slight hesitation, though he must’ve misread what was going on in my head.
He lifted a duffle bag I hadn’t noticed in his hand. “It’s not an overnight bag, I swear. I just threw in a change of clothes so I could get out of this suit I had to wear to dinner.”
I stepped aside to let him in, and he stopped in front of me, toe to toe.
“I was appreciating the view, not worrying you might overstay your welcome.”
The right side of his mouth twitched to a cocky grin. “Oh yeah? Well, you can watch me change if you want the full view.” He leaned down and planted a kiss on my lips. With our mouths still attached, he spoke softly, “I’ve missed you.”
Three little words and the walls around my heart were already crumbling. It wasn’t because they were sweet—though of course they were—but because I knew he meant it. As a woman who hadn’t trusted a man in a very long time, I felt in my bones that he was being honest. And that made me unsettled when it should’ve made me the exact opposite. So rather than be honest and tell him I’d missed him, too, my sense of self-preservation kicked in, and I backed away from the moment with sarcasm.
“What’s your name again?”
He tapped my nose with his finger. “Smartass.”
I shut the door with a smile.
“Sorry I’m so late. The client wouldn’t shut the hell up.”
“It’s fine.” I pointed to my toes and wiggled them. “They needed to be painted anyway. Skye and I usually do it when she comes over for our binge-watching sessions.”
“How’s she feeling?”
“Achy with a slight fever. When I went over to drop the soup, her boyfriend was there, and she was letting him take care of her. That’s how I know she isn’t feeling well. She doesn’t let people do things for her. She’s very independent.”
Donovan tilted his head. “Sounds familiar.”
I smiled. “I guess so. I’m sure it has to do with our trust issues.”
He nodded. “I get it. Growing up, I never got too close to anyone. If you don’t let people in, it doesn’t hurt when they take off.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry. That’s exactly what I did to you last year, too. We had a connection, and I took off.”
“It’s fine. You had your reasons.”
I’d never really considered how it might not be so easy for Donovan to trust me because of what I’d done. “It’s really not fine. I should’ve at least been upfront about what I was doing and said goodbye.”
“That’s behind us now.”
“But how is it behind you? You’ve let me in when you keep distance from most people. And I already took off on you once. You make it seem so easy to get over your fear of people you care about taking off.”
Donovan stared at me for a moment. “It’s not easy, Autumn. But you’re worth the chance.”
That might’ve been the single most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to me. “Wow.” I shook my head. “I don’t even know what to say.”
He looked away and then back to me with a boyish grin. “You don’t have to say anything. Just don’t take off without talking to me again.”
I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I can do that.”
He pulled me flush against him. “Good. Because I know where you live this time, and I’d track your ass down.”
“Hopefully that won’t be necessary.” I laughed. “So did you save room for dessert?”
Donovan’s eyes dropped down between us. From this vantage point, he was looking straight down my shirt. “Always room for dessert.”
He wiggled his eyebrows, and I laughed.
“So do you prefer toasted coconut chocolate chip, cookies and cream, or chocolate peanut butter?”
“Yes.”
“Good choice. I like a taste of each, too. Why don’t you go get changed and relax, and I’ll make us bowls?”
Donovan disappeared into the bathroom and came back out moments later in jeans and a T-shirt. He tossed his duffle on the side of the couch and settled in.
“I was looking through movies before you got here, but I wasn’t sure what kind you liked, so I saved a bunch to my favorites on Netflix, if you want to take a look.”
“Actually, I have something in mind I thought you’d enjoy watching,” he said. “I’ll cue it up.”
“Oh…okay.” I whipped up two bowls of ice cream with chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and crunchies and headed over to the couch. His bowl was twice as full as mine. “This one is yours. I went a little overboard. I hope you like all the junk I put on.”
“There’s not much I don’t eat—except ketchup. My mother didn’t cook much, but when I was about seven or eight, she had this asshole boyfriend of hers move in with us for a while. He used to make us eggs for breakfast and put ketchup all over them. I told him I didn’t like ketchup on mine, and after that he put twice as much on my plate. Haven’t eaten the stuff since the day he moved out.”
“Good to know. I was thinking about adding some ketchup to our sundaes, too.”
He chuckled.
I tucked my feet under me on the couch and pulled a blanket over my lap before shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. “So what are we watching?”
Donovan grabbed the remote and pressed a button. The TV illuminated with a half-dozen episodes of The Bachelor.
“Awww. You’re very sweet, but we don’t have to watch that. I know you’re not a fan.”
“How am I going to find out if Kayla’s dad really hits Brad during the hometown visit or not, if I don’t watch the next episode?”
My eyes flared. “You watched The Bachelor?”
“You said you were going to watch the last five episodes if Skye had the flu.” He shrugged. “Figured I had some catching up to do. I got out of court early today, so I binge-watched up to where you left off.”
My insides melted. “I can’t believe you did that.”
He swallowed a mouthful of ice cream and pointed his spoon at me. “If you mention it to Bud, I’ll deny it.”
I pretended to zip my mouth shut over my smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
After I finished my dessert, I snuggled next to Donovan on the couch and covered us both with a blanket. At one point, he took a break from his ice cream and rested his hand on my thigh. It felt like it could burn an imprint into my bare skin. I did my best to ignore it. Halfway through the first episode, my cell phone rang. It was on the end table next to Donovan, so he handed it to me. Dad flashed on the screen.
I sighed. “He’s been relentless the last few days. His wedding is next weekend, and I still haven’t given him an answer. My therapist thinks I should go.”
Donovan pushed a button on the TV to pause the show. “But you don’t want to?”
I shook my head and silenced my phone. “I don’t know. We used to be so close, especially right after my mom died. I don’t have much family other than him. My mom was an only child, and both her parents passed away when I was little. But…it’s hard for me to forget how he handled things six years ago.”
Donovan’s eyes roamed my face. “You mentioned he wasn’t supportive after, but did he not stand by you when things went down?”
“He insisted I get into therapy, and he did anything I asked. But he was kind of distant during the entire thing. At the police station, when I finally decided to come forward and report what had happened, I cried the whole time, and the policewoman comforted me. My father just kind of sat there, almost detached. And I couldn’t understand how he could stay partners with Braden’s father after everything he’d heard me say.”
“What did he say when you told him that?”
I frowned. “I didn’t—not at first, anyway. I let all of my anger toward him build for a long time. About a year after everything happened, my therapist convinced me to talk to him. Unfortunately, I did that after having a little too much to drink one night, and the talk didn’t go as it probably should’ve. I was very emotional and said some horrible things, and then I refused to talk to him once I’d sobered up—not very mature, I know.”
“A person who went through what you did handles it however they need to handle it. It sounds to me like you shouldn’t even have had to have that discussion, or deal with any of it.”
“When I refused to listen to him, he went to talk to my therapist. She wouldn’t discuss anything with him, but he asked her to listen to him and talk to me on his behalf. He claimed he’d been in shock for a while, that he saw himself going through the motions with me, but was checked out mentally, sort of like watching a movie about what was going on. That’s why he wasn’t emotional or sympathetic at the time.”
“And you don’t believe that?”
“I don’t know. My therapist says a lot of the things he described to her are classic symptoms of psychological shock. But I just…” I shook my head. “I felt so alone back then, and it’s hard for me to forget. Plus, then there’s his string of marriages and the crazy stuff he’s done over the years.”
“Is he still partners with the father?”
“No, he’s not. The week after my drunken tirade, he split from his partner. He claimed he didn’t realize how much it upset me because I hadn’t said anything, and because they’d fired Braden after I went to the police.” I shook my head. “Honestly, he’s tried to make it up to me for years. He handled things wrong, but maybe he did have his reasons. I would like to forgive him and forget, but I don’t know how.”
“Do you have to do both?”
“What do you mean?”
“Forgiving and forgetting—I think they’re two different things. When you forgive, you allow yourself to stop harboring resentment so that you can be at peace with something. I’ve forgiven my mother for the shit she did when I was growing up—for disappearing for months at a time and leaving me on the streets to fend for myself. She’s not perfect, that’s for damn sure. But I needed to let go of the resentment for me more than I did for her. Now, I haven’t forgotten. Every time she calls to hit me up for cash, I remember. But I ask her how she is and talk to her anyway. Sometimes we even meet for dinner, if she doesn’t hang up on me after I tell her I’m not giving her any money so she can put it up her nose.”
He stroked my cheek. “I don’t think you can forget, and I think that’s probably a good thing, because we learn from all the shit in our past. But you can still choose to forgive, if you want.” Donovan put his hands up. “To be clear, I’m not taking your father’s side. Everything you told me makes me dislike him more than I already did. But I am on your side, and if you want to move on, you should. You can’t wait until you’re able to forgive and forget. Because you probably will never forget.”
Oh my God. Waves of emotion swept over me. For years, my therapist had been trying to talk me through moving on with my dad, and in five minutes, this man had gotten through to me. He was absolutely right. If I was waiting to have any relationship with my father until all of this was behind me, I’d be waiting forever. It felt like a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
“Would you be my date for his wedding if I went?”
Donovan smiled. “Sweetheart, if you asked me to be your date to walk you into hell, I wouldn’t say no. Of course I’ll go with you. I’d be happy to.”
I smiled back. “Okay, well, I’m not sure wedding number eight and a trip to hell are that different, so thank you.”
He winked. “No problem.”
Donovan scraped the last of his ice cream from the bottom of his bowl like he hadn’t just talked me through a monumental breakthrough in my life. The man had no clue how perfect he was. To look the way he did, have the smarts he had, and have such a deep understanding of flawed-human psychology? He was pretty special.
I reached out and pinched his arm.
He glanced down at the spot and looked up with an adorably crooked smile. “What was that for?”
“Just making sure you’re real.”
He never took his eyes off of me as he set his ice cream bowl on the table and scooped me into his lap.
I giggled as I straddled him.
Donovan dug his fingers into my hair and pulled my lips down to meet his. “Come here. Let me show you real.”
His tongue dipped inside, and he tilted my head ever so slightly to deepen the kiss. Lord, could this man do magical things with his mouth. And I remembered from our weekend that he was very generous in showing off this talent in other places. There was something so desperate when the two of us touched. It had been like that from the very start; as if once we collided, we needed each other to survive.
I felt him hardening beneath me as we kissed. With my legs wide open, the denim of his jeans pushed against my clit, and I ground down harder, desperate for friction.
Donovan groaned and gripped my hips. He started to guide me back and forth over his erection, and things built to a frenzy very fast.
Oh my God. I might come dry humping this man.
My body slowed, realizing that was exactly what was about to happen.
“Do you want me to stop?” Donovan mumbled between our sealed lips.
“No, I…I…”
He pulled back so we could see each other. I was a little embarrassed, but I didn’t want him to think he’d done anything wrong.
“I almost…you know.”
The wickedest grin spread across Donovan’s face. “You almost had an orgasm riding me fully dressed?”
“Don’t look so smug. I was the one doing all the work.”
“Oh yeah?” In one stealth move, he lifted me off his lap, and my back was suddenly against the couch. He climbed and hovered over me. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” He kissed my nose, then my chin, and lowered his head to kiss my neck before planting a kiss on top of my cleavage. His voice was lower and raspier when he spoke again. “Why should you be the only one doing the work? I think I need to help out here.” Donovan raised the hem of my T-shirt and kissed my belly button, then fingered the button of my shorts while looking up at me. His eyes were dark and hooded, but he didn’t break contact as he opened my shorts. “I want to bury my face in you and not stop until I feel you come all over my tongue. I crave you, Autumn. Want is too tame of a word. What I feel is much greedier than that.”
I swallowed.
“Tell me that’s okay. I don’t ever want to push you too fast and be a regret the next day.”
His tone made my heart hurt. He’d been so amazing and steadfast with me, and in return I’d only given him doubts. I’d avoided intimacy with Donovan because another man I’d trusted had taken something from me. Maybe it was time I forgave someone else for the things that had happened—me. Like a wise man once told me, moving on didn’t have to mean I forgot. I just needed to let go. And looking down at the beautiful man I wanted so badly felt like the first step in the right direction.
I nodded. “I want you, Donovan.”
His eyes jumped, looking for reassurance in mine.
“I won’t regret it tomorrow, and I won’t disappear.”
“You sure?”
I nodded.
Yet there was still hesitation in his face. “What’s off limits?”
I smiled. “Nothing.”
Donovan’s blue eyes darkened to almost black. “Nothing? That might be a dangerous edict to give a man who’s wanted you for a year now. You might not walk tomorrow.”
A shiver ran through me. I relished the thought of being too ravished to get out of bed. But if he thought he was the only one who felt desperate, he was absolutely wrong. I raised a brow. “Or maybe you might not be able to walk once I’m done with you.”
Donovan’s eyes sparkled. “That sounds like a challenge, and I do not like to lose.”
“Bring it on, Mr. Decker.”
He responded by nipping at my navel. Instead of registering as pain, it sent a jolt of electricity straight down between my legs. Donovan yanked my zipper down and tugged off my shorts and panties. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of my pubic bone and looked up at me. “Just for that, you’re not going to get to lie there while I make you come.”
He sat up on his knees and dragged my body up the couch before flipping onto his back and sliding down into my spot. He guided one of my legs to straddle his chest. “Scooch your ass up, sweetheart. You’re riding my face.”
My jaw dropped. Donovan reached up and tapped my chin with a cheeky smile. “That’s a very generous offer. I’ll take you up on it later. Right now, just get your cowgirl hat on.”
Before I could fully get my bearings, his fingers were biting into my hips as he lifted me up and guided me onto his face. For a brief second, I felt a little self-conscious, but all that went out the door with one flick of his tongue. My clit was like a lightning rod, and one strike sent electric aftershocks racing through my body. Hunger grew as he traced my opening, teasing me with soft, fluttering licks. He kept a steady pace, building and building, but each time I thought I might fall over the edge, he’d slow, and we’d start the whole cat-and-mouse game over again. After four more go-arounds, each ending with the same result, I grew frustrated and finally started to move my hips.
“There she is,” he said. “Ride me, beautiful girl. Ride my face.”
Realizing he’d been withholding until I took control, I felt like killing him—but that would have to wait until after. Until then, I’d play his game. Grinding down, I rubbed my wet pussy all over his face and led his tongue to suck exactly where I needed it. That wave built again, faster and more furious, and I moaned as my hips churned shamelessly.
“I’m…I’m…gonna—”
Donovan didn’t wait for me to finish the sentence. He latched onto my clit and sucked hard, detonating an explosion inside of me. I heard the muzzled sounds of him groaning as I came undone, my body convulsing so hard that tears stung the corners of my eyes. Long after the wave crested, he still lapped at me like a man who hadn’t been fed in days and I was his last meal. I could barely hold my body upright by the time he finally slowed. Sensing my spiral down was about to crash land, he lifted me and guided me to lie on top of him with my head against his chest.
“That was…” I paused and tried to find the right adjective, but amazing didn’t seem to do justice to what had transpired.
Donovan kissed the top of my head. “The beginning. It was just the beginning.”
