Read Online Seducing Liselle by Marie E. Blossom - Free Book Online Page B

letting me give you the same
pleasure you gave me?”
    He lifted a shoulder, discomfort flitting
across his face. “I didn’t expect to have a nightmare tonight.”
    She sighed and tucked her face into his
neck. The fire was dying down finally and she was getting cold. “You can’t
predict them. Sometimes I’ll get a nightmare every night for a week, and then
months will go by with none.”
    He kissed her head. “I didn’t know you had
nightmares.”
    She rubbed her face against his skin as if
she could scrub away the horror of her childhood. “Yeah, well, let’s just say
that my brother learned from a master. Growing up with my dad was …
unpleasant.”
    John kissed her again, then swung her into his arms.
    She squeaked. “What are you doing?”
    “I’m taking you to a real bed.” He stood
up easily, cradling her like she was precious.
    “What about your shoulder?” She poked at
him, not wanting to hurt himself. “I can walk.”
    He laughed. “I’ve got you on my left side,
don’t worry. And I’ve carried you before, through the snow. This is nothing.”
    She shook her head at him as he went up
the stairs. Even in the dark she could see his bed was rumpled. There were
clothes on the floor. John’s cat looked up sleepily from the pile, then yawned
and tucked his face back into his tail. A set of dog tags hung from one of the
corners of his wooden headboard. He was definitely a bachelor.
    He smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t expecting
company.”
    She chuckled and tucked her face in his
neck. “I can see that.”
    He tucked her in without another word,
pulling the sheets and comforter up around them both. “Sleep now,” he said,
curling around her.
    Liselle let the warmth of his body sink into her bones. He’d seemed
okay, after the sex , she thought. She hoped he didn’t regret the sex in the
morning. She hoped she didn’t regret it, too.
    ****
    John opened his eyes. Morning sun slanted
across his bed and he stretched, feeling better rested than he’d been in years.
He reached out a hand and encountered … nothing. He sat up. Liselle was gone.
    “Shit,” he said aloud, running a hand over
his face. “ Liselle ?” he called, pitching his voice
louder. Maybe she’d gone downstairs for a drink. No one responded. He looked at
the clock. Crap, it was after twelve. When was the last time he’d slept this
long? He rubbed his face again. He didn’t remember. He slung back the covers
and padded over to the balcony railing, looking down over the living area. The
fleece blanket had been folded neatly over the back of the couch. A piece of
his yellow notebook paper was balanced precariously on top. Pitbull looked up at him, yawning lazily.
    “Shit,” he said again, a sinking feeling
in the pit of his stomach. She was gone. The cabin felt emptier than it had in
a long time.
    When he made it downstairs, after throwing
on a pair of ratty boxers and a t-shirt he’d picked up from the floor, he went
straight to the note.
    Dear John,
    He had to snort at that. He’d just
received his first Dear John letter and he wasn’t even in the Air Force
any more. He looked down again, making note of her careful penmanship. She formed
all her words very carefully: the l’s curved at the same precise angle, all her t’s crossed. He wondered what part of her life made
her crave control so badly she had to take it wherever she could, even in the
small things, like writing with an unfamiliar pencil on someone else’s paper.
    Dear
John,
    I
want to thank you for giving me the gift of last night. I don’t date anymore. I
don’t get close to anyone, but you got under my skin somehow, probably because
you turned out to be so unexpectedly kind. I’m not used to that.
    Anyway,
thank you. I’m leaving now and I won’t bother you or Beth again. My life isn’t
safe, and I don’t want either of you to get tangled up in it.
    Please
take care of yourself. I would like to remember you the way you looked this
morning: