by Marni Mann
Forty-Two
Jared
“What does that mean?” Billie asked after I told her she was my struggle.
The last time I had stood outside this building, I’d made it clear I couldn’t kiss her. But when she’d opened the door a few moments ago, our chemistry was even thicker. Her face told me I wasn’t the only one who felt it. And then she’d turned her back, heading into her kitchen, her tight jeans and short T-shirt giving me a perfect view of her ass.
It needed to stop. The chemistry, the teasing—all of it. I had to make my intentions clear and remind her again of why I was here before this went too far, and I couldn’t pull us back. Because if we really went there, all I would do was hurt her, and she couldn’t handle any more pain.
That just meant things had to halt right now.
“I want you to get on a plane and return to your old life, Billie. That’s what I struggle with.”
I could tell her thoughts had been elsewhere. The realization showed in her eyes, two beautiful green windows that couldn’t lie to me.
“Are you ready for that?” I asked. “Dinner in Martha’s Vineyard?” I got up from the barstool and went over to the counter, refilling my glass of wine.
As I was pouring some in her glass, I heard, “No.”
I put the bottle down, pushing my ass against the hard stone as I faced her. “I’m going to keep asking.”
“I know.” Her voice turned so soft.
I almost got the impression she was walking over to the ceramic pot just to distract herself. She then took off the lid and grabbed two forks.
I’d smelled the roast when I came in and again when she’d checked on the beef. I just thought my nose had fooled me. I’d expected a more difficult meal, challenging my knowledge of flavor, not a traditional dinner like she had chosen.
I should have known better.
“That’s one of my favorite dishes,” I said as she began pulling apart the meat.
She looked at me. “Mine too.” When she finished, she speared a small red potato from the same pot and took the few steps to hand it to me.
The skin popped when I bit into it. “Damn it, you can cook.”
I handed the fork back, and she did the same with a piece of meat.
“Now, try this.”
As I surrounded the beef with my mouth, my eyes locked with hers. “Jesus,” I groaned. The roast was juicy and tender and rich in flavor. “That’s unbelievable.”
“Come here.” She waved me over. “I’ll make you a bowl. That’s how I like to eat mine.”
She took one out of a cabinet and added in some meat, potatoes, and vegetables before covering it all with broth.
I reached forward to take it, her stare meeting mine the same time my hand touched the bowl. The look returned to her eyes—the one from the other night that had almost caused me to kiss her. The same one that had forced a war in my head to make sure I didn’t.
And now, I was here again.
“Billie …” There was a need hammering in my body, hardening at how badly I wanted to be inside her. And then there was the logical side, the part of my brain that kept reminding me why that was such a bad idea. Enough that I had to tell her again, “We can’t do this. It’s not going to help either of us.”
She briefly glanced down, her tongue swiping across her bottom lip. It was wet and glossy, a combination that was extremely sexy on her. Slowly, that piercing gaze returned to me. “Then, why are you looking at me that way?”
Forty-Three
Honey
Spring 1986
“Happy one-year anniversary, baby,” Andrew said in Honey’s ear.
She leaned into his side, her head resting on his shoulder, watching the sunset from the beach in Aruba. “Happy anniversary.” She brought the champagne glass to her lips and swallowed just as the sun dipped below the horizon, adding more colors to the already-stunning sky.
Honey couldn’t believe, exactly one year ago, she had married Andrew in front of the beautiful lighthouse. In some ways, it felt like the year had flown by, many things in her life changing during that time. Their condo was now fully decorated, she had received a promotion at the DMV, Valentine had a boyfriend, and the four of them had gone on several double dates. But in many ways, the year had dragged, reminding her of how many times she had gotten her period, how she would have to wait another month to see if their efforts had worked.
Each month, the moments grew darker.
No one in her life seemed to understand, so she didn’t talk to anyone about it. Each day that passed, she became harder on herself. She was married to the most wonderful man, they had a gorgeous home, and she loved her job. All of that should be enough. And it had been for a short period, and then the desire to be a mother had come with a vengeance.
“I got you something,” Andrew said, kissing the top of her head.
She pulled back from his shoulder and gazed at her husband. They had already exchanged gifts in Portland last week, and this trip had been Andrew’s second present to her. The box he had just taken out of his pocket was the third.
“Open it.”
She shook her head, taking in her husband’s gaze. “Andrew, you do too much for me.”
“It makes me happy.” He nodded toward his palm where the box still sat, encouraging her to take it from him.
She eventually did, removing the gold paper and lifting the tiny lid. As she saw what was inside, her eyes filled with tears, her lips gently quivering. “They’re so incredibly beautiful.” Sitting on the bottom of the box were a pair of diamond earrings, round in shape, a size larger than the fake ones she had on. “I’m so in love with them.”
“Your wrist is next.” He lifted her hand, kissing the center of it, turning it to caress the other side. “Maybe another necklace after that.”
Her eyes returned to his.
“I’m going to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” His hand moved to her cheek, thumb brushing back and forth. “And I’m going to give you a baby.”
Honey stared at him, the dark pink sky creating the warmest glow over their skin. The tears that were in her eyes began to drip. He knew. He always did, but it hit her harder tonight.
“I believe you,” she whispered.
He kissed her before he pulled away. “Then, stop thinking about it and trust me.”
Forty-Four
Jared
Why am I looking at her that way?
Because there was a battle happening inside my head again, and I was doing everything I could not to drop this bowl and pull her into my arms.
I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t give in to the temptation.
I couldn’t be the one to cross the goddamn line even if her side was the one I wanted to be on.
“Jared …” She was reminding me she had asked me a question.
When I said nothing, she released the bowl, and I immediately set it on the counter, my stare following it.
“Thank you,” she said softly, moving over to the pot to make a bowl for herself.
“For what?”
“Giving me a break from your eyes.” She grabbed something from the drawer.
“What does that mean?”
She turned to me, freezing when our stares connected, her hand not rising to give me the utensil. “You were looking at me like you were about to devour me … the same way you’re staring at me right now.”
I was fucking crazy to have these thoughts. To even consider the things that were forming in my head.
She was too young.
The situation wasn’t right.
It never would be.
But there was something heavier in my mind. Something that outweighed it all, and that was my need to have her.
I knew when I growled, “Come here,” I was making the biggest mistake.
But in that moment, I didn’t care.
A smile came over her lips, reaching all the way to her eyes. I needed to taste it.
“Hurry, Bill
ie.”
She put her bowl down and closed the space between us.
But now that I had her right in front of me, my hands remained at my sides, and I was still fighting to touch her.
Billie Paige was more than a struggle; she was a fucking war. And each second, I negotiated with myself, bargaining what I would gain and lose once my hands were on her.
I couldn’t wait. I had to know. I reached forward, and the tips of my fingers grazed her waist.
“Goddamn it,” I hissed as I felt the hint of a curve. “Billie …” My tone was a warning. A last-ditch effort, putting the responsibility on her because I wasn’t strong enough to walk away. Not now. “Tell me to stop.” I gripped her harder, her skin burning as my hand rose higher. “Tell me I’m too old for you.”
“Don’t stop,” she moaned. Her teeth gnawed into her bottom lip before she breathed, “And you aren’t too old for me.” Her hand went to my stomach, palm flat, slowly running across my abdomen.
“Tell me not to go any further.” This time, I wasn’t louder than a whisper. “Tell me to take my hands off you.”
She clasped her fingers around mine, holding them against her as though she needed them to stand.
“Billie, please tell me to—”
“I want you, Jared.”
I ground my teeth together as I replayed the sound of her saying the hottest words I’d ever heard. Each echo caused me to clench her tighter until I found myself fisting her thin T-shirt, the fabric threatening to tear off of her.
I wanted her to say it again. I wanted her to tell me to stop.
But I wanted her more.
My other hand was now just below her ribs, and with each swipe of my thumb, her back arched.
I watched her movement, her bending into me, like she was giving me a dance. “You feel so good.”
My eyes took their time devouring her, enjoying the dips of her body as though she were mine. She responded after every inch with a quick intake of air or a shift in position until there wasn’t anything separating us.
I was still fighting. Still hoping to find the strength to back away.
It was impossible.
Especially when there was nothing I wanted more than to taste her.
I reached up until my fingers were on her face, and I held her steady as I got closer, my lips eventually hovering over hers. I looked at her mouth and then back at her eyes. It was the final fight—one that only teased me—and then I slowly brought her mouth to mine.
The second we kissed, every fear I’d had was confirmed.
This was a mistake.
One I couldn’t stop from happening.
But one that felt better than anything I’d ever experienced in my life.
“Billie,” I whispered when I finally took a breath, wanting to feel her name vibrate on my tongue. “I need you closer.” My fingers lowered to her ass, and I lifted her onto the counter, spreading her legs over the hard surface so I could move in between them.
She gripped my shoulders, searching my eyes. “Where did you come from, Jared?” She paused, and I could tell she wasn’t done. “You were sitting next to me on the plane. Just a stranger who saved me. And now, you’re here at my home … and I don’t want you to leave.”
My hands were on her thighs, running to the break of her hips and back to her knees.
I didn’t want to hear this.
Not now.
Not when I knew how fucking wrong this was.
“Billie …”
She stopped combing the hairs of my beard. “Yes?”
“Kiss me.”
She folded forward, wrapping her legs around my waist, clasping our bodies together. Her lips gradually pressed against mine, and I gave her my tongue, slowly sliding it in and out.
While she held on to my face, I explored the rest of her body. And I did it so fucking slow, savoring every spot I examined. Starting at her hips, I went up her sides to the bottom of her ribs. Each brush of my thumbs had her breathing into my mouth, and I continued higher until I reached her nipples.
“Jared,” she hissed, her head leaning back. “My God.”
My lips went to her neck, fingers pinching the hard tips through her bra, and I kissed along the base of her throat and up her chin and across her ear. Each inhale told me how badly she wanted this. By the time I arrived at her mouth, she was breathless. She released my shirt, hands sliding to my belt buckle, stalling at the clasp. I sucked on her bottom lip, my thumb bearing down on her nipple.
“I want you.”
I couldn’t get enough of those words, especially when I heard them in her voice. “Say it again, Billie.” My cock was so hard that I thought it was going to burst through my pants.
“I,” she moaned, her body teasing the tip of my erection, “want you.”
I popped the button of her jeans and lowered her zipper, lifting her just enough to slide them off. “Jesus,” I growled when my eyes hit her legs and the beautiful dip that was directly between them. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
“Jared,” she groaned, demanding my mouth again.
My fingers went under her lace panties, finding a warmth I had dreamed about. “Fuck, you’re wet.”
I grazed her clit. Just one pass, like a flick of my tongue. She breathed out my name, bucking against my hand, and I went lower. While my mouth devoured hers, I circled the tips of my fingers, spreading the wetness before two plunged inside her. My palm went to her clit, and I worked my hand together.
“Yes,” she cried, gripping my shoulders, her legs locking even tighter around me.
Even though my fingers were inside her, my tongue needed to be there too.
I pulled out of her and grabbed her ass once again. I lifted her off the counter, carrying her through the living room and around the corner where I had a feeling her bedroom was located. Once I set her on the bed, she unhooked my belt, and I unbuttoned my shirt. With all of my clothes on the ground, I moved to the edge of the mattress.
She was staring at my body with a fierce hunger that I hadn’t seen in her eyes before. “Wow,” she gasped.
A growl came out of my mouth as I yanked off her panties and T-shirt and bra. Now that she was stripped, I knelt on the floor and pulled her ass to the edge of the bed. I wrapped my arms under her thighs and leaned forward, my nose resting at the base of her.
I closed my eyes, and I inhaled.
If I was ever going to experience perfection, this was it.
“Oh fuck,” she said as I flattened my tongue, dragging it to the top of her clit.
I gently sucked it into my mouth, flicking just the end. When I ran out of air, I licked in each direction—up and down, side to side—keeping constant friction while my fingers drove into her wetness.
I’d thought about what it would feel like to have her legs around my neck, what flavor would fill my mouth, what she would look like when she was coming on my tongue.
I was getting all of those answers right now.
Her back arched, and her feet went to my shoulders. “Jared, don’t stop.”
She didn’t need to worry; I wanted this as much as her.
I moved faster, twisting my hand when I reached the middle of my knuckle, my tongue massaging the highest part of her clit. It hardened right before she began to tighten around me. Each thrust of my fingers, she became wetter, every lick causing her to shout louder until she was shuddering, hips rocking back and forth, riding out her orgasm.
When she stilled, I gave her a few final swipes, savoring the taste of her. Then, I slowly moved up her navel, kissing across each breast before I went to her mouth, her lips immediately pressing into mine. My arms surrounded her, and I pulled her higher on the bed. Once her head was on a pillow, I backed away to take her nipple into my mouth.
“Ahhh.”
She was so sensitive; each flick caused the same noise.
I switched and used my teeth, taking turns biting the ends, while my hands went to her ass and around her stomach and bac
k up to cup her breasts.
Even though I could hear how much she was enjoying it, every bite, lick, sip of her body was for me.
And while I continued to sample her, her hand moved to my cock, fingers circling it, and she slid over my crown and down to my balls. She was squeezing, twisting, pumping to the base.
“Tell me you have a condom,” I rumbled across her flesh.
I hadn’t brought one.
I hadn’t intended for this to happen.
I pushed that thought away before it turned into more and saw her reach for the nightstand, grabbing a rubber out of the top drawer. She had the foil open when she returned to me, holding the latex against my tip, rolling it down my length. As soon as it was covering me, I positioned myself, my lips going to her mouth.
“Jared … please fuck me.”
She picked the only words I wanted to hear.
I shifted my hips and gradually sank myself into her warmth, her wetness and tightness hugging me. “You feel incredible.”
I was gliding in and out, going a little harder each time, and I left her mouth to roam her skin, finding new places to kiss.
“Oh my God.” Her nails dug into my shoulders, her hips greeting me, her body contracting more with each thrust.
When I felt her start to tighten, I lifted her off the bed and put my ass on the mattress, straddling her over me. Now that my hands were free, I gripped her face, lips almost touching hers. “Ride me.”
I tilted my hips just as she buried me inside of her. Her hands then moved to my chest, and she began to find a rhythm.
“That’s it, Billie.”
Her sounds and her pulsing told me how close she was. All of it was bringing out my own orgasm. Then, I heard her moan my name, and I fucking lost it.
The build came on hard and fast, and she pressed her mouth to mine and pumped herself over me, clenching as the both of us got louder. A burst of wetness instantly coated me.
“Yesss,” she panted.
