Too Hard to Forget (Romancing the Clarksons Book 3)

by Tessa Bailey

  He fell onto her, his thrusts so powerful she couldn’t get breath into her lungs. The desperation in him kindled her understanding, her intuition, though, and she moved before her brain made the command, pushing with all her strength until Elliott rolled onto his back. His muscles were strained in the muted neon light, his jaw clenched, chest heaving. She’d never seen him so lacking in control and an answering wildness rose up, wrapping around her like a second skin. “Worried you’re going to break me?” she whispered, leaning down and kissing his chest as she seated herself with a moan. “Aren’t you worried I’ll break you?”

  “You could,” Elliott said, voice vibrating, his hands rasping up her thighs. “You might.”

  There were two sides of the storm that built inside her. Power. Power because she was finally on top of this man, when it had been the reverse for so long. But that side of the storm lacked any real satisfaction now, so she focused on the opposite half. The driving need to lose herself. It had started back in the cave, this flinging flight into recovery, this return to herself. And she wanted—needed—to revel in it. In Elliott, whose intent expression told her he could read every thought in her head.

  With Elliott buried as deep as possible between her legs, she was anchored, centered, and her hands lifted in celebration, threading into the strands of her hair, moving in slow circles that her hips began to mimic. Her eyelids grew heavy, doing their best to obscure her vision of a rapt Elliott as she started a slick up and back grind. “You like the way that feels?” she whispered, confidence building and strengthening inside her. “You like me sliding up and down on your cock?”

  “Fuck,” Elliott groaned through his teeth. “Break me a little faster, baby. Please. You remember…you remember how hard up I get after licking your pussy.”

  “That’s the best part,” she said, one corner of her mouth lifting. “Seeing how much you need it over, but you’re trying to hold on because it feels so nice.”

  “Nice?” Elliott’s laughter was full of pain, his lower body lifting beneath Peggy to push her higher, pumping his hips and bouncing her until she had to hold his shoulders for balance. “Nice is no way to describe the way you wring me out with a smile. Ask me again if I missed you.”

  A quaking had started a couple inches below her belly button, spreading to her thighs and calves…everywhere. She rubbed her clitoris, the epicenter of her lust, against him mindlessly, writhing and undulating, racing toward something that she knew would shatter her. And she needed it, needed it so bad, masochist that she was. “Did you m-miss me?” she asked through chattering teeth.

  Elliott flipped their positions, using one hand to support his weight, the other to reach between their moisture-slickened bodies and pet her right where she required touch. His open mouth dragged up the side of her neck, into her hair, down the side of her face, before ravaging her lips. Peggy heard herself whimpering, and no wonder, because the man looming above her was extraordinary in that moment, his body a machine, his chiseled face a mask of determination, blistering heat…and adoration. For her. It was there in the tenderness blazing from his eyes, the measured strokes of his hips, every move designed to drive her toward release.

  His middle finger picked up the pace where their bodies joined, dampness making her slippery, so slippery. “Peggy…” He trailed off with a groan, his eyes closing tight, and she knew he was fighting to last, giving himself no other option but to turn her inside out one last time, even though he’d already wrung her out with his mouth. “If you never left again, I would still spend the rest of my life missing you,” he panted. “The missing of you over three years…it overflowed and I’ll be wading through it forever.”

  A sound left Peggy’s mouth, halfway between a cry and a sob. She didn’t think, just threw her arms around the breadth of his back and pulled him down on top of her, their bodies locked in the tightest of embraces, Elliott’s face buried in her neck as he rocked with increasing force in the cradle of her thighs. His labored breaths in her ear, the growls of her name were what blew Peggy out of the water. Her legs flew up around his waist and clenched, her back bowing off the bed. “Elliott,” she screamed, the inner walls of her womanhood seizing around his hard, driving flesh.

  “Yes,” he ground out, slamming into her with brutality that signaled his peak, his face burrowing into the comforter to the right of her neck and roaring, roaring, loud enough that she felt the vibration ripple down her spine. She tried to keep her legs up, but her energy deserted her, both lower limbs falling heavily to the bed. Elliott gripped her right knee, though, holding it out wide while he flooded her, his big body wracked by tremors. “Christ, Peggy.”

  She tightened her hold on him, laying kisses on his shoulders until he stopped shaking and released her knee, the tension ebbing from his frame. But he didn’t stop moving completely for a second, his hands soothing up the sides of her thighs, his lips whispering words into her hair that made her throat close up.

  “Beautiful. So beautiful. Took me so good, baby. God, you were sweet. Sweet everywhere just for me, weren’t you? Sweet and tight. Hot. Just for me.”

  When she’d walked out on the porch tonight, there’d been no question in her mind that she was leaving Cincinnati and never looking back, but panic crept into her chest like a crew of burglars, robbing things she’d kept safe, spinning her lock combinations and landing on the correct numbers. The moment was so honest between them. In the light of day tomorrow, she might regret murmuring back to Elliott in the dark, but she plowed her fingers into his hair anyway. Lifted his head to find eyes gone liquid and…loving. “Elliott?”

  He kissed her lips softly. “Yeah, Peggy.”

  “I, um—”

  Across the room, Elliott’s cell phone went off.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  You have to go,” Peggy said from across the console of Elliott’s truck. “You have no choice.”

  Elliott ground his teeth together. Not only because she was right and his presence was needed immediately back in Cincinnati, but because her guard was up again. Somehow, someway, he’d managed to reach Peggy tonight. Managed to make her smile, put that sparkle back in her eyes when she looked at him, instead of doubt and distrust. And with one phone call from his assistant coach, he’d had a front row seat to watch her shield click back into place.

  It had been unbearable, watching her lift the pillow to cover herself as his assistant coach explained loud enough for everyone in the whole damn motel to hear, that there had been a last-minute injury with Temple’s quarterback. There might not have been a cause for panic, but the second string QB was left-handed and favored the corresponding side of the field, meaning Elliott’s staff needed to meet about a new defensive strategy before the team convened tomorrow morning. If the Bearcats crew was scrambling, he could only imagine the Temple coach’s stress, but frankly, he didn’t give two flying shits about anything right now, save the girl sitting still as death in the passenger seat of his truck.

  “I don’t want to leave, Peggy. You know that, right?” He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance over. “I’ve got a responsibility to the team, the school, to give them the best chance of winning.”

  The words rang hollow. Pressure had been a welcome distraction from being without Peggy. It had enabled him to cope by exerting all his energy on the sidelines. But now that he could feel his chance with her slipping out of his hands, it was hard to reconcile the need to win at all costs. Maybe the ultimate cost. Winning had pushed his daughter away, too, hadn’t it?

  Now he was going to lose Peggy over it—when he’d only just started earning her back. He could feel the loss of her happening in real time, like watching a slow motion corrosion of a mountain, rocks rolling into the sea.

  I could leave this in my assistant coaches’ hands. I could stay and prove right here, right now, that she’s more important to me than any goddamn game or championship. Because she is. She’s the rest of my life, and she’s sitting right there where tomorrow
only smoke and a memory will exist.

  And Elliott would have done it. Would have pulled the truck over, dragged her into his lap, and confessed every last unpoetic word pushing to get free of his heart. Would have done it without hesitation, if it weren’t for the promise he’d made to Alice.

  I promise I’ll have it arranged. For the Temple game.

  He’d made that promise with the intent to keep it, come hell or high water. And Alice hadn’t yet told him she was ready for someone else in their lives. After checking out on her for…God, as long as he could remember, he couldn’t continue without his daughter’s blessing. Not only could it damage his relationship with his daughter beyond repairing, but it would douse the spark Peggy had lit with her presence in their lives. He couldn’t allow it. Couldn’t allow either of those things to happen.

  Fuck. His chest was being pried apart. As he turned onto the driveway leading to the Tates’ farm, the pain intensified until it was excruciating. He’d called Alice after hanging up with his assistant coach and told her to be ready with her things when he pulled up. Ahead, he could see the porch light on, people gathered on the other side of the screen door. This was it. He would drop off Peggy, drive away, spend tomorrow occupied with the game…and then she’d be leaving. It would happen faster than fingers snapping.

  When they’d almost reached the house and Peggy still hadn’t answered him, Elliott’s panic made his mouth dry as dust. “Did you hear me? In a perfect world, I’d walk into that house holding your hand and it would be understood that we’re sharing a room.” Even when her lips popped open on a breath and she gave him her attention, he felt no satisfaction. “I don’t want to leave, baby. But—”

  “Elliott. Look at me.” Peggy pointed to her face. “I’m not playing head games with you. You really don’t have to explain. Do you think I’m going to bitch and stomp my foot because you have a job to do? A nationally televised, big-ass deal of a job? Well, I’m not. I wouldn’t.”

  “You could.” His voice was low as he cut off the engine. “I want you to feel like you have that right. I want you to know you do.”

  She didn’t quite pull off her incredulous expression, because he could see the flash of hope, fleeting though it was. He never had a chance to find out what she would have said, because excited voices cut into the stillness of the truck’s interior. A lot of excited voices. The sound of footsteps banging on the wooden steps joined the chorus and both of their doors were flung open. On Peggy’s side stood Sage and Mrs. Tate, while Kyler and Alice appeared on his left.

  “We did it,” Elliott’s receiver whooped, reaching out his hand for a shake. “We hit the goal. Happened about two minutes before you pulled up. Can’t believe it. Someone is going to have to pick my father up off the living room floor.” His hands came up to pull at his mess of hair. “Wow. Just wow.”

  “We had a last-minute donation.” That was Sage speaking, and Elliott had to strain to hear her soft-spoken voice. “The game-winning football from last year’s Super Bowl.” She folded her hands and tucked them beneath her chin. “We’ll have enough to settle the debts and give a sizable chunk to the cheerleading program, Peggy.”

  “That’s…” Peggy sucked in a breath and dove out of the truck, wrapping her friend and Mrs. Tate in one enthusiastic hug. “That’s amazing. Amazing.”

  Elliott was so focused on Peggy’s transformation, it took him a moment to realize Kyler was still holding his hand out for a shake. He took the younger man’s hand, and was taken by surprise when Kyler hauled him out of the truck and into a back-slapping hug. “Jesus, Tate,” Elliott grumbled. “Control yourself.”

  “Ah, come on. It’s a celebration.” He pulled back and gave a conspiratorial wink. “Did the cave trick work for you?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Elliott answered honestly, too wrecked in the head to do anything else besides tell the truth. “Listen, I know everything is happening at once…” A throb started in the dead center of his forehead. “But there’s been a last-minute—”

  “Who’s having ribs?” Lyle shouted from the top of the porch. And just like that, the entire Tate clan cheered loud enough to rival the college stadium on game day. No one wasted any time stampeding up the porch and into the house, except for Elliott, Alice, Kyler, Jess, Peggy, and Sage, all of whom seemed to sense there was more than a celebration taking place.

  “What’s up, Coach?” Kyler prompted.

  Elliott swallowed the boulder in his throat. “Need you to get your gear and come back to Cincinnati with me, Tate. We’re calling in the team early tomorrow.” His attention strayed to Peggy on the other side of the truck. “I’ll fill you in on the road.”

  His respect for Kyler went up another notch when the younger man gave a single nod and moved past him toward the house. “Give me five minutes, Coach.”

  That left Alice standing there in front of him, shifting side to side in her sneakers. “I guess I’ll go grab my jacket. I don’t want to miss standing on the sidelines with you tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want you to miss it, either.”

  Her shoulders lowered, her relief that he hadn’t changed his mind evident. Which only made his decision that much more crucial. His own daughter didn’t expect him to follow through. She cast a glance over his shoulder to where Peggy, Sage, and Jess had begun talking excitedly about the news. “Is she…are they coming with us?”

  Elliott kept his features schooled. “I expect they’ll follow in the morning.”

  Alice was silent for long moments. “Okay.”

  When his daughter passed him and jogged up the steps into the house, Elliott gathered oxygen into his lungs and turned. Sage and Jess had gone back inside, and Peggy, after retrieving her coat from the truck, was preparing to follow them. “Wait,” he ordered, harsher than intended. “Just wait.”

  She was the picture of serenity, waiting for him to round the truck. Except for the white-knuckled grip on her jacket. Did that give him a sliver of a chance?

  Elliott had every intention of speaking to Peggy, although he had no idea what the hell he could say in the eleventh hour to repair the remaining hurt and make a future seem possible. Maybe those words didn’t even exist. Turned out, none of that mattered, because as soon as he got close, his heart took control of his hands. They curled around her shoulders and pulled her close, his mouth landing on her surprised lips and taking. He took for every second he’d lived without her in the past. For every second he could very likely live without her in the future. She fell back a step under his assault, but he didn’t allow her the room, following and devouring, gathering her closer and closer, until she was flattened against his chest.

  He would remember the second Peggy stopped being resistant and gave herself over as one of the most exultant of his life. The hands that had been unsure whether to push or pull on his shoulders tugged him closer, her head tipping back to give him better access to her open mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her taste. As if they hadn’t just blown each other’s minds less than an hour earlier, his need reared its head back and roared like a living thing.

  This time, when Peggy pushed at his shoulders, he released her mouth so they could both get a breath. “Elliott, what—”

  “Don’t fucking count me out, Peggy.” He took her face in his hands and leaned in close, the condensation from their panting breaths mingling in the air. No matter how many times he swallowed, he couldn’t seem to get his heart back to where it belonged in his chest. “Time is against us. Maybe it always has been. But I’m asking for you to just beat it with me.”

  “How?” Her eyelids dropped to half-mast. “We don’t have any left. I can’t make more out of thin air.”

  “You?” That single word was rife with disbelief. “You, Peggy, can do anything. I—”

  Behind her, the stairs creaked. Elliott looked up to see Alice paused on the stairs, watching him and Peggy with…fascination. And he couldn’t have this conversation with an audience, especially when he didn’t know t
he ending, didn’t know what to ask for.

  “Tomorrow night is the fund-raiser. Promise me you won’t leave before then. I don’t have the right to ask you for anything. But can you give me that?”

  Her nod was vigorous. Thank God. “Yes.”

  “Okay.” The relief was mild and fleeting, because he was getting ready to climb inside his truck and leave the woman he loved to get smaller and smaller in the rearview. It was a knife in his gut, twisting and mangling him. With a final inhale of her scent, he pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering, before walking away.

  Peggy was inside the house before he even started the engine.

  Chapter Thirty

  Peggy sat on the top porch step and listened to the rushing of wind, the crickets calling to one another. Behind her, the house was finally silent, the Tates probably sleeping with clear heads for the first time in months, secure in the knowledge they would still have a home come tomorrow. Before coming outside to get some much-needed air, Peggy had arranged the transfer of funds from the fund-raising website into a checking account and had been assured it would show up as available in the morning. Although having that worry ironed out in her mind didn’t leave her relaxed by any measure. Oh no.

  In her lap sat Miriam’s journal, made heavier by the prospect of what she might find inside. She closed her eyes and conjured up her mother’s voice, the soothing but fiery sarcasm, the way she spoke out of the side of her mouth when she was imparting a secret or some kind of advice. And right now, Peggy needed advice more than anything in the world. Unless Miriam had been some kind of psychic, she wouldn’t have had a clue about the pickle Peggy found herself in right then, but maybe, just maybe, her mother would have written down the words to nudge Peggy in the right direction.

  She could go to New York with what remained of her family. Not to mention Sage, who she suspected would sorely need her soon. After her attempt to gain Sage’s confidence back in Cincinnati, there had been no progress. Every time she tried to get her best friend alone, Sage smoothly made excuses to be somewhere else. It wasn’t a brush-off—it was just Sage’s way of saying, I’m not ready. If Peggy remained on the road to New York, would she eventually solve the wedding planner’s mystery?