I close my eyes at the first touch of his tongue. It’s too much, what he’s doing to me. But I bury my hands in his hair nonetheless. It’s silky between my fingers, the thick, black hair he’s had since the first day I met him, over twenty years ago.
Hayden keeps his hands on my hips to keep me in place, but I wouldn’t move for the world. Every skillful motion of his tongue and fingers brings me closer, closer to an edge that threatens to undo me.
Hayden’s touching me like he owns me—like all of me is his and he’s reclaiming it. A very small part of me wants to object.
The rest is in complete agreement. I am his. I always have been, deep inside, my soul calling out to his. It’s physical, but it’s so much more than that, too.
Hayden breaks off momentarily to laugh softly against my skin. He presses a kiss to my inner thigh and looks up at me. “So far, you haven’t changed a bit, Lily.”
He’s driving me insane, the desire coursing through my body too strong to override. “Let’s talk later.”
“So impatient.” He does something with his fingers that makes me gasp, a wicked smile on his face.
He devotes himself entirely to my pleasure again and I break apart under his tongue. I can’t control my movements, gasping as my back arches and toes curl. It’s heavenly, this release, all with him.
Hayden rests his head on my hip and runs a hand lazily around my nipple. He’s watching me through hooded eyes. “I’d forgotten how beautiful you are when you come.”
My cheeks heat up. I run a hand through his hair, stopping right at the nape of his neck.
“God Lily, you’re too sweet,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my hipbone. “That was a good start.”
I frown and tug at his shoulders. He crawls up my body, lying down next to me, a strong hand around my waist. I think it’s meant to reassure me, but I don’t feel the least bit calm.
I tug at his shirt, my hands fumbling with the buttons. It doesn’t take long until Hayden catches on. He murmurs a protest against my lips, something about slow and regrets, but I’ll have none of that.
He groans when my hand strokes along the bulge in his jeans. “Too tight,” he murmurs, a sigh of relief escaping him when he finally tugs his jeans off.
My heart is beating so fast I’m sure he can hear it. There’s an urgency to this, but it’s not like the greenhouse, when all I needed was fusion.
This time I want him undone and broken in my arms. I want to watch where we join, and when I whisper it to him, Hayden lowers his forehead to my shoulder and mutters a string of curses.
“What?” I whisper, wrapping my arms around him. He’s on top of me, the heavy weight of his arousal resting against my stomach.
“You’ll be the death of me, Lily.”
I hug him tighter, until his face is buried against my breasts. “I don’t want that.”
There’s a faint laugh. “I’d die happy, babygirl.”
He lifts himself up on strong arms and kisses me. It’s deep and invasive, warning me about what’s to come. If we had our guards up before, they’re completely down now. There’s absolute surrender with Hayden.
I should have realized that before, when I pushed and pushed for him to take me to bed properly—not the wild, emotional coupling in the greenhouse. I should have realized that once we did it slowly, I’d lose all semblance of control, both of my emotions and the situation.
This will change things. If he leaves again, I don’t know if I’ll emerge unscathed.
But he’s worth the risk.
I kiss him back, letting his tongue sweep in and leave a trail of hot fire in its wake. His muscled back is hard under my hands, and I run my fingers along the deep grooves. I want to touch him everywhere—to relearn his body and have him catalogue mine in turn.
Hayden spreads my thighs without stopping the kisses, settling between my legs with a low groan. He rests his forehead against mine. I can feel him shaking with the effort to go slow, running the head of his hardness along me, teasing.
I put a hand on his chest to feel the beat of his heart, fast and racing. My own is doing the same.
“Feel that?” he murmurs. “All for you, Lils.”
I kiss him, pouring all my longing and need and despair into it. All the years we’ve been apart and the nights without him.
He groans when he finally pushes into me, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt. It feels so unbearably right to have our bodies intertwined like this again—my legs around his waist, his arms around me, our bodies moving in tandem.
I don’t know how long we move like that, with him inside me, both of us gasping, before release finally overtakes us. It starts deep within me first. Hayden has a hand between my legs and he’s circling, voice imploring in my ear.
“Again, Lily,” he murmurs, and I can’t hold back, breaking around him like a wave against the shore for the second time.
Hayden groans and follows me into release. I hold him, our bodies shaking with the force of it. For a long time we stay like that, wrapped around one another.
I run a hand over his back, stroking the muscled skin. He’s warm and faintly sweaty. “Will you stay the night?”
There’s a faint, noncommittal grunt against my neck. “I don’t think I can move.”
26
Hayden
I’m on a video call with Finn when I get Lily’s excited text. She’s written it in all-caps. I GOT THE ART GALLERY!
Finn is suspicious immediately.
“What are you smiling about, man?”
“Sorry. Got to reply to something urgent.”
I type a quick congrats to her before I flip my phone over, screen down. It only took her about a week to draw up all the paperwork—courtesy of Harris Development.
Finn isn’t convinced. “I know urgent, and that’s not it. Does she have a name?”
I glare at him through the monitor, but my only reward is his wry laughter.
“Fine, man. Play it close to the vest.”
“You should try socializing some time,” I suggest, knowing it’ll needle him. “I know it’s shocking, but computers can’t keep you warm at night.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “I don’t need socializing. Besides, computers generate heat, so they actually can.”
“Just saying. I’m sure Boston has at least a few good women.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he says, his tone surly, and I drop the topic.
We return to the planning of our West Coast expansion—and our plan to hire a consultant or two of our own. The business is expanding faster than either of us had anticipated.
I’ve been pushing for us to reach higher and higher numbers, but it still feels unreal that it’s actually going as well as it is. Gary’s words ring in my head. You’re rich.
It would be hard to believe if I didn’t know the ins and outs of my own finances. If this continues, I’ll be able to hold my own with old Michael Marchand. Not best him, sure, but certainly be regarded as an equal.
But I’m not sure money is all it takes.
I drive over to Lily’s new gallery that evening, stopping on the way to pick up a few things. She’s already there—has been since she finished work.
Anticipation runs through my body as I park outside. Knowing she’s close, and that I’ll see her soon, never fails to put me on edge.
The front door is ajar and the wood has deep gashes from disrepair. It’ll need to be sanded down and repainted entirely.
Old-school jazz hits me as I walk in. A lady croons about respect, filling the space with her voice. Lily is standing in the middle of the gallery-to-be, her back to me.
Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she has a pencil stuck behind her ear. I can see her frantically scribbling notes on a legal pad. I’m sure she sees something very different from what I do—yellowed walls in desperate need of new sheetrock, old linoleum floors. She’s always been the one with the vision.
I wrap my arms around her waist and she leans into m
e, a small sigh escaping her. Her scent is as intoxicating as usual.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey,” I say. “How did you know it was me? The front door was unlocked.”
“Who else could it be?” She runs a hand over my forearm absently, holding up her notes. She’s sketched out an entirely different interior design. The odd half-wall is gone, as are the popcorn ceilings. “What do you think?”
It looks like a professional art studio.
“It looks great,” I murmur, pressing another kiss to her neck. “Very artsy.”
Lily smiles. “Excellent feedback.”
It’s been a week since I properly took her to bed, and since then, we’ve spent nearly every evening together. Cooking dinner, walking on the beach… and me, getting reacquainted with every nook and cranny of her body.
I rest my head atop hers and focus on her designs. She’s drawn faint mosaic floors and spotlights from the ceilings. It’s an art studio, sure, but it’s not without character.
“Is that a pottery wheel?”
“Yes. Too crazy? Maybe. It might not be for right away. But I like the idea of being able to have classes with that, too. Maybe hire an expert, or just let people express themselves with clay.”
“It’s not crazy. And if you ever want to reenact that scene from the movie, you know, with the guy who comes back as a ghost? I’ll volunteer.”
Lily laughs, leaning back more snugly against me. “This place is going to take a lot of work. And there’s absolutely no guarantee that it will pay off.”
“That’s the case with everything in life. As for the work, you know I’ll pitch in as much as I can. I can’t lay tiles, but I sure as hell know how to paint and plaster.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs, and there’s a faint trace of shyness in her voice. It’s unexpected. “I was thinking about something.”
“Tell me.”
“What are we, really? I mean, I feel like I know, but I was wondering in regard to our friends and family. I haven’t told anyone that you and I are… well. But we’re going to have to tell them eventually.”
My reaction is immediate.
Lily feels the tension in my body and tries to twist, to see my face, but I can’t let her. I’m too scared she’ll see the panic that’s written there.
I know I have to face her brothers and father eventually. Face the disapproval and the requests to leave. Her father already demanded it of me once, and when he does again, I’ll refuse. But it will hurt her.
I could lose everything again if I don’t do this right.
“What are we?” I force myself to relax, to stroke up her bare arms. “We’re us. We always have been.”
She finally turns. Reaching up, she puts a hand on my cheek, her thumb smoothing over my cheekbone.
“And you’re here indefinitely,” she murmurs.
“Yes.”
I’m not fooling her. It’s clear in her gaze, in the way she frowns slightly. It’s always been impossible for me to hide anything from her.
“But you don’t want our friends and family to know?”
I close my eyes, knowing it’s easier for me to hide my emotions that way. “Let’s just be you and me, for a little while longer.”
When I open my eyes again, Lily gives me a small nod. I can tell that she doesn’t understand. But she’ll give me the time I need.
Guilt unfurls in my stomach, familiar and acidic. I know I don’t deserve her, and this is just more proof. It’ll be confirmed when her family learns of it.
Lily rises up on her tiptoes and kisses me softly before rocking back on her heels. “So, what’s the first thing I need to do with this place?”
“To turn it into your sketch?”
“Yes.”
“Well, for one, you should get an electrician in here right away, at the same time as your builders. If you want spotlights, planning that before you start scrubbing the ceiling and tearing down walls would be good.”
“All right.” She scribbles something down in her notebook. “We have a contractor at work. I’m going to ask her if she has space in her calendar for this, too. I’ll obviously pay.”
I nod. “But don’t get them to do the small stuff. I’ll paint these walls for you, Lils. Hell, Gary would probably love to be involved.”
“I’m not going to exploit you for free labor just because I’m sleeping with you,” she says with a small grin. It’s clear that she wants to move on from the awkwardness just minutes earlier. “If you help out here I want you to bill me.”
“Absolutely not.” I force a wry smile, trying to match her tone. “Consider it down payment for the painting I’m going to commission from you.”
“Really? Of what?”
“I want you to paint me like a gentleman of old. Something stately to hang above my mantlepiece.”
Lily laughs. “A hunting rifle slung over your shoulder?”
“Yes. And there has to be at least two hounds at my feet.”
“Let’s make it three, for good measure.”
“Good thinking. I knew you were the artist I needed.”
She shakes her head at me, still smiling, and returns to her sketch. Tendrils of hair have come loose from her bun, and she has ink stains on her fingers, and she has never been more beautiful to me.
“Have you told your parents about this place yet?”
“No. I want to get my things in order before I do.” She looks at me, a small smile on her face. I know she’s not only thinking about the gallery when she responds. “It’ll be our secret for now.”
I smile back.
Our conversation stays with me the rest of the evening, even as we get take-out and eat it back at hers. It rings in my mind as I drive home to let her get some well-needed sleep.
I know I can’t put off the reveal to her family forever. Eventually, what we are is going to come out, because I’m not planning on letting her go again. Not ever.
I just need to figure out what I’m going to do when that happens.
And despite myself, I don’t want her brothers to kick my ass for it. I know I can handle my own, and I think Lily will stand by me. But they’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to brothers.
Paradise Shores is dark and quiet when I park on my driveway late that evening. The house still doesn’t quite feel like home, even if the town does.
My phone rings and my uncle’s name flashes across the screen. He rarely calls at all, and never this late.
“Hayden… I don’t know how to say this,” he begins, sending ice-cold dread through me. “But it’s your dad. He passed away a few days ago.”
27
Lily
“So you just bought this place?”
“Yes,” I say. “It’s all mine now. I’m going to turn it into an art gallery, and host art classes.”
Parker shakes his head, looking around at the space. “Have you told the mothership?”
“No. I’m postponing that a little bit.”
“Good. I can’t imagine Dad’s going to be happy, but it’s your life, Lils.” He throws his arm around my shoulders. He smells like ocean and tar. “You know I’m in your corner.”
I grin up at him. “How come you were so annoying growing up? I like you much better as an adult.”
He laughs, the deep, belly-kind. “Because that was my role. You already had a big brother in Henry and a protector in Rhys. I had to be the one who pulled on your pigtails.”
“Had to?”
“Of course,” he says, face serene. “Imagine how sheltered you would have been otherwise. Come on, let’s go get ice cream. I’ve been craving mint chocolate chip all day.”
I turn off the lights and lock up the studio. It’s going to need work, but all I feel is anticipation. For the first time in a long while, I’m genuinely excited about a creative project.
I’m also very, very tired. As Parker and I walk toward Paradise Shores Gelato, I can’t hide the giant yawn that escapes me.
“It’
s not even six p.m. yet,” Parker points out. “What’s going on? Has Turner been running you ragged at work?”
“No, no. I just stayed up too late last night, that’s all.” I’m quiet for a beat. “I was painting.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ve started again. I need things to fill the gallery with, you know.” The last part is more of a joke, but it had felt amazing to hold a paintbrush again. My body remembered what to do without instruction. I just had to finish the outlines of the scene before I could go to sleep—the sand dunes and the ocean, the horizon, the two people walking along the shoreline.
Parker grins. “You’re right. Hey, have you seen Hayden around lately?”
I shake my head and focus on the ice cream menu. I know it by heart, but I’m afraid to meet Parker’s gaze. Hayden has stayed away for days, ever since the night in my gallery. His reluctance to tell the others about us hurt. The uncertainty could only mean one thing.
He wasn’t sure if we’d last.
“He’s been AWOL all week, but these past few days he hasn’t even responded to my texts.” Parker clicks his tongue. “I wanted him to come out on the boat this weekend. It can’t be good for the man to spend all his time working.”
I frown. He hadn’t responded to my texts, either, and if he was ignoring Parker too…
“Something must have come up,” I say, trying to sound dismissive. “You know Hayden.”
“Yeah, but he should talk to me,” Parker sighs. “He always played things too close to the vest. At least the two of you seem to be getting along better now.”
“Yes. Absolutely. It’s all in the past.”
Parker nabs the menu from my hands. “You’re going to get cookie dough. You always do, so quit looking for other options.”
“You’re right. Two scoops.”
He winks at me. “My treat today. To celebrate my little sister opening her very own art gallery.”
We order, eat and laugh, and I try to push away the frustrating thoughts, but it’s difficult. Worry and unease chase each other in my stomach. I call Hayden as soon as I’ve said goodbye to Parker. There’s no response, just like the day before. It’s not like him, to stay away like this, without an explanation.
Rogue: A Paradise Shores Novel Page 20
