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waiting.
    David wrapped his hands around me, lifting me from the couch onto his lap and I went willingly. The feel of his fingers sliding up beneath the jumper I wore, the skin on skin contact sending shivers of desire racing down through my core.
    I bit down on his lip softly as he tightened his hold, crushing my chest to his.
    There was a knock on the door that had David groaning against my mouth. Frustration made my body ache and I pulled away from his embrace.
    “Wait for me upstairs… I won’t be long,” he said, his eyes had darkened with lust and I felt my core tighten in response to his promise.
    Without uttering a word I climbed from his lap, my legs unsteady beneath me as I made my way to the door and tugged it open. Aaron stood outside, and the moment his eyes fell on mine his knowing glance sent heat into my cheeks.
    I practically ran from the room, my legs like jelly as I climbed the stairs. I’d seen the look in David’s eyes, there was no way in hell he would keep me waiting.

9
    R eaching the bedroom I stepped inside and halted, my heart raced in my chest and I could still feel the tingling across my skin where David had touched me.
    I needed his touch, the feel of his body against mine. There was a niggling feeling in the back of my mind that it was something I needed to do, we needed to reconnect.
    Taylor had done his best to rip us apart, to destroy what we held precious but he hadn’t succeeded, so why did it still feel as though he had? None of it made any sense and yet I couldn’t shake the niggling doubt.
    Staring at my reflection in the mirror I could still see the lingering effects of being stuck in the Banks home. Every time I tried to sleep I could still remember the feel of Taylor’s hand on my bump as he’d tried to crush the life growing inside me.
    Even though he was dead I couldn’t shake that memory.
    The door cracked open and David stood framed in the doorway, the look on his face was ferocious. There was a hunger in his gaze that sent a shiver of desire racing all the way from my head down to my toes.
    He stepped into the room and slowly slipped out of his suit jacket, his dark gaze never leaving my face. I was like a butterfly pinned beneath his gaze.
    It was a struggle just to remember to breathe as he moved into the middle of the room. He tossed the jacket aside and immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, each one he opened revealing a little more of his tanned muscled chest.
    He moved to the cuffs of his shirt, each movement deliberate and slow, as though he was teasing me. How could he possibly know just how much I wanted and needed him? Was it written all over my face?
    He removed the cufflinks and the sleeves hung loose over his wrists, brushing the tops of his strong hands, hands I knew intimately.
    The thought of him touching me, brushing the places beneath my clothes that only he could sent a trickle of moisture straight to my core and my body tightened in anticipation.
    “Strip,” he said, his voice soft and yet utterly commanding.
    My body froze, my mind struggling to comprehend the nature of what he was asking of me.
    Why wasn’t he touching me? Stripping the clothes from my body the way he usually liked to?
    “David, I…”
    “I said strip, I won’t ask you again,” his voice brooked no argument and a fine tremble started up in my limbs. My heart began hammering in my chest as I lifted my arms above my head and slowly shrugged out of my jumper.
    I stood before him in a camisole and my soft satin trousers, my fingers playing along the edge of my clothes as I watched him.
    He crooked one eyebrow in my direction, the hunger in his eyes causing me to bite down on my lip hard enough to practically draw blood. Gripping the top of my trousers I pushed them down over my thighs, cringing as I spotted the purple and yellow bruising that covered my legs and hips.
    Without meeting his gaze again, I stripped the camisole top from my body and let it drop to the floor with