Too Hard to Forget (Romancing the Clarksons Book 3)

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Too Hard to Forget (Romancing the Clarksons Book 3) Page 6

by Tessa Bailey

“Peggy.”

  Without stopping, she turned, continuing to walk backward, farther into the darkness. “Get lost, Elliott.”

  God knew he was already. Lost in the pounding of his pulse, the heat gathering in his groin. He’d imagined touching her again for so long, and combined with the fall of night, he allowed himself to believe it was just another fantasy. Not really happening anywhere but in his mind. That hint of an excuse was all he needed to quicken his pace to a determined stride, reaching Peggy in seconds and turning her, shoving her body up against the cold church structure.

  Ohhhhh Christ. She was warm, though. So damn warm and pliant, her curves interlocking with his muscle—beating his memory by ten thousand miles—her sweet, forbidden scent tackling his senses. His conscience must have had a little fight left, though, because it prodded Elliott’s mind, right when he would have attacked Peggy’s parted lips. “I can’t. I can’t when someone’s waiting for you at home.”

  “Is that all that’s stopping you?”

  She whimpered the last word, the sound making his balls weigh down with hurt. “Right now it is.” He took her wrists, pinning them high on the wall. “When I come to my senses, it’ll be fifty other reasons. And fifty more reasons on top of that.”

  “Come to your senses?” she repeated on a breath. “Because I’m just a mistake to you? A reminder that the Kingmaker has an actual weakness?”

  “Yes.” Her flinch scalded him with regret, but he fought through the need to take his words back. “I never lied to you.”

  She closed her eyes for a beat, and when they opened, there had been a change. Plans had been made…and they no doubt included the destruction of his will. Clamping that sweet row of white teeth down on her lower lip, Peggy arched her back, drawing Elliott’s attention to her breasts. “We both know how well I can keep a secret, Elliott,” she whispered. “No one will know if you touch them.”

  “I’ll know.” Despite his denial, he released one of Peggy’s wrists, letting his hand slide down to her shoulder, his greedy fingertips dragging lower. “God will know.”

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re so close to a church.” She pushed up even more, presenting her pointed tits with an innocent expression. “You can go pray about it right afterward.”

  The head of his rigid cock pressed against his belt buckle, straining painfully inside his pants. “That’s not how it works,” he rasped. “Prayer isn’t an excuse to sin.”

  Peggy’s knee moved up and down the side of his thigh, and just knowing her legs were apart, her pussy out in the open, blasted another hole in his resolve. “No one will know. Touch them. Be as rough as you want,” she breathed. “I remember what you like. How you like to get mad at my body. Frustrated at it for making you want something natural.”

  “Nothing natural about what we did.” His touch moved down, stopping a mere inch from her breast, fingers flexing. “You made me behave like a beast. Some of the ways I took you…some of the places…”

  She groaned and it broke him. Knowing the memories had caused such a harsh sound of longing brought his clutching hand to her breast, where it kneaded the taut mound once before racing under her shirt. Lust railroaded him, and he was out of his mind with need to feel her bare skin. “Yes, Elliott. More.”

  “They’re a little fuller. Bet they’d fill my mouth now.”

  Before his growl settled, he was already jerking up the hem of Peggy’s shirt, exposing her braless tits in the moonlight, and diving forward to suck one peak between his lips. Bad. This was wrong. She belonged to someone else, but denial continued to suppress that fact, shouting instead that Elliott had been there first. How could she ever belong to another after the amount of times he’d taken her to bed?

  With a possessive snarl, Elliott pressed her to the wall with the use of his mouth, increasing the power of his suck until she cried out, twisting his hair with frantic fingers. She tugged him away with a cracked sob and then her lips were so close. So damn close. The most tempting of fruit. And he descended on their parted perfection like the Apocalypse was upon them.

  “How do you do this to me?” he groaned against her mouth. “I can’t even get my dick hard unless I think of you. I bet you love knowing that.” The ensuing kiss was brutal, his tongue driving deep and claiming. “Bet you love knowing that sliver of stomach you showed me today in the car made it necessary to jerk off in my office with the door locked.”

  Without giving her a chance to respond, he crushed their mouths together, Peggy’s naked breasts pressing between them as their tongues slipped into a rhythm meant for mating. For fucking. Long, hot slides of lips and tongue that made his cock thicken to such a miserable state, he couldn’t help but take it out on her mouth, flattening her against the wall and angling his head to give himself better access. How could God create someone this sweet and not expect him to succumb? Soft. So soft and yet sharp and rounded in the right places. Her ass, her hips, they were moving between Elliott and the wall, goading him, granting him permission to lift up her cock-tease body and release his seed between her legs.

  “Feels like I haven’t come since you left,” he grated against her ear. “Can’t wring it out of myself the way you used to. Fuck. The way you’d smile at me when you’d tighten up your pussy, like you enjoyed killing me—”

  “I can do it right now. Smile my good little cheerleader smile while you slide me up. Slide me down. I’ll tighten it up until you can’t breathe.” Her voice trembled, that right knee hooking on his hip like an invitation, the heat between her legs finding his stiff groin, taunting him with the promise of relief. Finally. “I can’t orgasm without thinking of the time you spanked me,” she said in a rushed whisper. “With your rolled-up playbook. You were angry at me for talking to one of the players. Remember—”

  “Yes, I damn well remember,” he rasped. “The way your pretty cheeks got pinker and pinker. Didn’t speak to any of them again after that, did you?”

  “No, never,” she murmured, pulling his head down for another kiss—

  Above them, the church bells began to peel. Shame echoed from the top of Elliott’s skull straight down to his feet, as if he were directly inside the bell itself. Even so, taking his mouth away from Peggy’s was like being at the ocean’s bottom and cutting off his oxygen supply with a hunting knife. But he did it. He managed it, because even if she weren’t married to another man—and she was, dammit to hell—there was no place in his life for her. For anything other than what was already there.

  Elliott’s chest heaved as he untangled their bodies and stepped back, doing his best to restore the equilibrium she’d taken. Oh Lord, the way she looked in the moonlight, mouth wet, shirt rucked up above her bare breasts, nipples glowing where he’d sucked them as if he had the right. If her tongue hadn’t been in his mouth just seconds before, he wouldn’t have believed she was real.

  “Did you come back here to make my life hell, Peggy?” he growled. “Answer me honestly. Because you’re succeeding.”

  “You always did equate me with hell, didn’t you?” she said, almost to herself, before she seemed to snap back to the here and now. “You’re tripping if you think I would drive all the way from California just to bother you, Elliott.”

  Burning curiosity bled through in his need. “You never answered me earlier, Peggy. Did you drive here alone?”

  Peggy covered herself with a jerky movement, robbing him of those incredible breasts. Want them back. “No. Not alone.”

  The ground started to shake under Elliott’s feet. “Your husband is here?”

  “I’m not married,” she near-shouted, coming forward to shove him in the chest. “The wedding I invited you to never happened. I called it off the night before.”

  There was relief and then there was the almost debilitating rush of calm that dragged Elliott down into a black void of silence. There was no comparison between the two sensations. He’d felt relief after winning a hard-fought game, but nothing in his memory compared to finding
out the woman before him hadn’t spent the last three years sharing a marital bed with some faceless stranger. His heartbeat boomed in his ears, stress leaking from his shoulders. The stiff fingers of his right hand flexed with twinges of pain.

  Pain the invitation to her wedding had wrought three years earlier when it had been forwarded by the post office two weeks after the nuptials date…and he’d broken his hand trying to punch through a brick wall.

  And he could see…he could see by the way Peggy watched him that she wanted this information to change something. To change him. But despite the different world he was living in since finding out she was single, the fact remained that his life would never include her. Would never include anyone else.

  In the back of his mind, he heard the ring of a phone. Bad news on the other line. Proof of his failure to be what the people who relied on him needed.

  He saw Peggy sobbing as she wheeled her luggage toward the waiting taxi. One he’d called after breaking off what they had. Hating himself the whole time for feeling so much agony. More than he’d felt at his own wife’s deathbed.

  Therein lay the issue, didn’t it? Always had. When he looked at Peggy, he felt too damn much, making her a constant reminder of how little he’d felt for someone he’d sworn to serve. In the eyes of God. He would never forgive himself for that.

  “Do what’s best for both of us and leave, Peggy,” he said. “I won’t get a moment’s peace as long as you’re walking my campus again.”

  Avoiding his gaze, she shrugged. “Deal with it. I’m not here for you. And I’m not going anywhere just yet.” She slinked forward and ran a single finger down his belly, increasing the swelling below his belt as if she harnessed enough power to rule every cell in his body. Maybe she did. “You didn’t know I was an unattached woman when you had me against the wall. That’s called coveting, isn’t it?” That torturing finger dragged lower and traced the outline of his erection, bottom to top. “Better get inside and confess your sins.”

  Peggy was halfway down the pathway before Elliott followed, staying on her trail long enough to watch her hail a cab back on the main street and get into the backseat—alone. He turned to face the church, his intention to join the mass in progress, but found himself walking to his truck instead and driving home. He wasn’t fit company for God with Peggy in his head.

  Chapter Six

  Peggy crept into the hotel room, hoping and dreading—all at once—that she would find Belmont and Sage twined together, pledging their undying love. Instead, she found Sage sitting against the headboard of her bed…scrapbooking furiously. Like it was the final book that would ever be scrapped.

  Sage had always been a type A overachiever, but there had been an added nervousness to her on the Iowa to Ohio leg of the trip. Like a cat sensing an earthquake. Her best friend might take pleasure in being compared to a feline and purr in response, but it probably wasn’t the best way to broach the subject of Sage’s uncharacteristic jumpiness.

  “Hey,” Peggy murmured, praying she looked halfway human. On the short cab ride home, she’d vowed not to cry even one more time over Elliott—she’d done way too much of that and accomplished nothing—but the lack of tears didn’t mean Sage wouldn’t know something was wrong.

  And wrong didn’t begin to cover how right it had felt having Elliott’s harsh words rasped into her ears back at the church. How annoying. She’d won tonight’s impromptu battle and should be celebrating, not replaying their angry kissing match. But it didn’t feel like a win at all, because every time she breathed, her nipples got hard remembering his mouth sucking them. His expression of rapture as he tongued them, pushing that big rod up between her thighs, turning her panties into a wet rag.

  Oh sure, now she was laser focused on the victory.

  She dropped down on the bed beside Sage, taking stock of the mounds of ribbon, magazine cutouts, and lace swaths piled around her petite best friend. With what appeared to be extreme concentration, Sage pressed a finger down onto a pink jewel, holding the decoration in place while chewing on her lip. It seemed like an hour passed before she released it, finally giving Peggy her full attention. Although just like the ribbons strewn across the bed, she could sense a strip of her friend’s concentration was elsewhere. Far from this room. “Hello.”

  Peggy waved. “What have you got going on over there?”

  “It’s a new wedding idea book.” She turned the page, smoothing her hand over the blank space. “I found an art supply store a short walk from here. Picked up some bridal magazines, too, and decided to have a party.”

  Man, Peggy loved her best friend. She didn’t deserve someone as patient and together as Sage. Four weddings they’d planned together and Sage hadn’t judged her for calling off a single one of them. Not once. She’d simply made the appropriate phone calls and waited until Peggy was ready to talk. Only, Peggy had never been ready to talk about her inability to commit. Still wasn’t. Because vocalizing the kind of feelings she had for Elliott would drown her if she let them loose.

  For this exact reason, Peggy had held off on asking Sage what had her so distracted lately. They had an unspoken don’t ask policy that had mostly benefitted Peggy up to this point. But what about Sage?

  Back in Iowa, Sage had dropped the bombshell that she would be leaving the road trip after Cincinnati, but hadn’t confided why. And while Peggy had figured they had time to discuss it, the deadline was looming closer. Losing her best friend, even for a little while, made Peggy anxious. Not only because she loved Sage, but because of what her sudden absence might do to Belmont.

  “Where have you been?” Sage asked, ducking her head and letting Peggy know she’d been scrutinizing a little too hard.

  “Out.” Peggy unzipped her boots, letting them fall on the carpeted floor, one after the other. “Seemed like maybe you and Bel needed some space.”

  As always, when the subject of Belmont was broached, Sage’s cheeks flamed, her fingers fidgeting with the bedspread. “Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re asking. Nothing ever does, beyond the h-holding. I wouldn’t…I mean, he’s your brother—”

  “Sage.” It never failed to amaze her how Sage remained in denial where Belmont was concerned. If Sage asked him for the Pacific Ocean, he would spend his life looking for a big enough bottle to hold the damn thing. “Seriously, whatever is going on with you and Bel has my full blessing. My blessings have blessings.”

  “Nothing is going on,” she whispered. “It can’t go on, Peggy. He relies too much on me. I rely too much on him. For comfort and…” A flash of hazel eyes in Peggy’s direction. “We’re codependent and I’ve seen where that leads. It’s not good.”

  The silence buzzed in Peggy’s ears. Her friend rarely spoke about the past, but she’d just dropped a fat hint that something about it hadn’t been ideal. “You’ve seen where it leads how?”

  “In my crystal ball,” Sage deadpanned, adding a wink. “It also says we have waffle fries from room service in our future.”

  “Crafty evasion technique. Maybe you’re an ex-spy.” Peggy swallowed her disappointment and fell backward on the bed, arms flung out at her sides. “Are you hoping I’ll let you get away with that nonsense in exchange for not asking where I went?”

  “I didn’t mean to evade, Peggy. Call it a bad habit.” A hush fell over the room. “Nothing is going on with Belmont that I understand anyway,” Sage said haltingly. “He comes at me so fast—so fast—and then he just disappears. It’s like he can only take me a little at a time. Or he can only take himself—how he is around me—in doses. But those doses are huge and addictive for us both. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, Peggy sat up and reached for Sage’s knee, settling a hand there. “He’s kind of a mystery to all of us, but I can tell you right now, you’re the opposite of his problem.”

  “I can’t be the solution,” Sage whispered, flicking her a solemn look. “I’m still leaving after Cincinnati, Peggy.” She rol
led her lips inward. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Belmont…but I need to go alone. Are you going to fight me on it?”

  “I’m going to hope you change your mind.”

  Sage’s face broke into a sad smile. “I can’t.”

  Peggy shoved her hands beneath her thighs to keep them from trembling. There had been too many changes in the last couple weeks. Two of her siblings gone, another one seeming to battle demons most days. Elliott back in her life, albeit temporarily. It was like standing in a batting cage, fastballs flying past her before she could swing. “Does Bel know yet?” Her friend’s silence gave Peggy her answer. “You never talk about your family. Does it involve them somehow?”

  “Yes. But…let me explain another time, okay? You’re the first person I would talk to about anything, Peggy, but I’m just not ready. I’m sorry.” A beat of thick silence passed. “And you were wrong. I’m not going to let you get away with tonight. I want to know where you were.”

  The comfort zone Sage usually allowed her popped. “I went to church.”

  Sage tilted her head. Come on.

  Elliott’s deep voice filtered through her thoughts. Our father, who art in heaven…

  I’m a reminder of guilt. Something to pray about. Was the very idea of her in church laughable even to her best friend?

  “Okay, I get it.” The words came out louder than intended, so she took a calming breath. “I get it. I’m the antithesis of holy. I’m going to spark the end of days. Approach with caution.”

  Sage’s brow knit together. “What are you talking about?” She scooted closer to the bed’s edge, knocking a few pieces of lace onto the floor. “Peggy, the closer we got to Cincinnati, the quieter you became. Just talk to me.” She smiled. “After four almost-weddings together, your skeletons were never in the closet.”

  “You don’t know why I keep canceling the weddings,” Peggy said.

  “No. You’re right. I don’t know that.” Sage’s head tipped forward, sending forth a curtain of light brown hair. “Everyone has that one thing, you know? That one sore spot. When someone prods it, we get the urge to…banish them and run for cover. My sore spot is my family.” She pushed back her hair. “I won’t do that to you, no matter how many times you ask, even if I can’t talk about it yet.”

 

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