Silver Falls by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online Page A

desperate passion she’d searched for when she was younger.
    Desperate passion led to heartbreak and betrayal. She was much better off with the safetyand comfort David provided, and she lay back, waiting for him.
    He moved forward, and the faint light from the adjoining bathroom illuminated his face. He looked distracted. Different. Odd.
    â€œDo you need something, David?” she asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She was wearing flannel boxers and a tank for nightclothes, not the silky lingerie he’d requested for his visits to her bedroom. And she hadn’t showered since this afternoon—he wouldn’t like that, either.
    â€œI need you,” he said, and grabbed her. His hands were rough, almost desperate, and he yanked her into his arms, kissing her, his mouth grinding against her, his hips pressing up against her body with urgency.
    She pushed against him, trying to slow him down, but he was stronger than she realized, and he shoved her back on the bed, landing on top of her with a graceless thud. “Please,” he panted, pulling at her clothes. “Please.”
    There was no way she could deny him. No real reason to. He was desperate, fumbling at his own clothes, and she tried to put her hands on his, to slow him down, to calm him, but he shoved them away.
    â€œDavid,” she said in a calming voice.
    â€œDon’t talk! Don’t say anything!” He couldn’t seem to manage her clothes, so she lifted her hipsand pulled the boxers off herself, tossing them on the floor, and then leaned back, spreading her legs for him.
    He was on her like a crazy person, yanking his trousers down, slamming his hips up against hers, and she lifted, waiting for him.
    He was barely erect. Again. She reached down, to try to help him, but he shoved her hand away, grinding at her in desperation, his flaccid penis rubbing up against her.
    She could have used her mouth to help him, but he didn’t like that. When they made love he liked to be the one in charge, the giver of pleasure. That had all disappeared in his current panic. He kept pounding at her, trying to shove his way in, but it was useless. With a hoarse cry he rolled off her, lying on his back, beside her, panting.
    She turned to him. “David,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, not sure what to say, not sure what had happened. “It’ll get better.”
    He shuddered, scrambling away from her. “Don’t touch me,” he said in a choked whisper. “Don’t touch me, don’t talk, don’t say anything.” He stumbled toward the door, his trousers down around his hips, and a moment later he was gone. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Rachel alone in the dark.
    She got off the bed, found her discarded boxersand pulled them back on, then grabbed the silk kimono she’d bought in Kyoto a decade ago and went after him. His bedroom door was locked, but she could hear him beyond the thick panel, hear the choking noise that sounded like muffled sobs, and it broke her heart.
    Or it should have. “David,” she said through the wood. “Let me in.”
    â€œGo away.”
    â€œWe need to talk, sweetie. Don’t be upset. You were in too much of a hurry. We can try again.”
    â€œGo away! Go away, go away, go away!” His voice rose to a shrill shriek. He’d moved, coming up to the door and pounding on it so hard it shook in the frame. “Get away from me!”
    She backed away. Somewhere in the distance she could hear the walnut-encased clock strike three, and the rain beat a steady counterpoint to the throbbing of her heart. This was the third time he’d come to her, unable to perform, but he’d never been so frantic before.
    She headed back to her bedroom, rubbing at her wrist. She’d have bruises in the morning, she thought absently. And she suddenly felt dirty. She closed her door behind her, then, at the last minute she