Ripple Effect

by Jerald, Tracey

  The only thing she wants is me.

  It’s a heady feeling.

  Swaying with the music, all right in the world for this moment in time, I try to push aside the forty-five minutes of gratitude I endured from the president of Wildcard when I called to ask for the tickets. I tried to pay for them, insisted upon it. He refused to let me.

  “Mr. Sullivan, you personally went in and grabbed my little girl out of a house of monsters. And you want concert tickets? Son, you could ask to follow them on tour.”

  “I’d feel more comfortable if I could pay, Mr. Wilde,” I tried to insist.

  “Do you know what my daughter’s going to be doing next week?”

  “No, sir.”

  “She’ll be with her mother. Because of you.” The warmth of pride at his words steals through me. “Now, tell me where to send you the tickets.”

  I rattled off the Alliance office address. “You’ll have them tomorrow.”

  “I’m grateful, Mr. Wilde.”

  “No, it’s I who is still grateful. I always will be,” he said, right before he disconnected the phone.

  I’m jostled out of my thoughts by Libby’s jumping body as she and 11,000 other fans begin stomping their boots and their hands fly up in unison as Brendan Blake ends his set with his most famous song to date, “Broken Boots.” His guitar is swung over the back of his shoulder, mic in hand as he crosses from one side of the stage to the other grabbing pens and posters to sign. Ripping off his cowboy hat, he signs it and makes a beeline for Libby.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter as he puts it on top of her head. Libby beams up at him, almost causing the singer to miss a note.

  Seriously, I should have brought her in jeans and a tee. But even as the thought again crosses my mind, I know it’s not that. Blake’s reacting to her the same way I do. This time, when I wrap my arms around her, there’s no mistaking the violence in the look I shoot him.

  God help us if he’s backstage when we meet Small Town Nights.

  Blake merely smiles broadly before saying, “Who’s ready to turn Charleston into a small town for tonight?”

  The crowd goes wild.

  “Hmm, not sure if Shane and Amanda heard you. Who’s ready for some Small Town Nights?”

  The screaming response may be heard in Georgia.

  “Thank you all for your warm welcome. My name is Brendan Blake; it’s been a pleasure playing for y’all tonight. Keep an eye out for my second full-length album coming out next month…” He doesn’t get to finish because the crowd goes insane. “Thank you, Charleston! Have a great night!”

  The stage lights go off. Libby turns around, amazement on her face. “Can you believe that?”

  “Incredible.” I hope I manage to sound excited while I’m grinding my teeth.

  “Cal, can you hold my purse just a second?” And without a word, Libby shoves it in my hand as she tears off through the pit. She’s whipping the hat off her head.

  “Shit! Libby, where…” But my voice dies away when I see her dash over to where the barrier between the pit and the seats begin. The kind of really crappy seats where you can’t see the stage. The kind of tickets I easily could have bought and paid for if I hadn’t made a call.

  In them, two parents are holding hands with a little girl. She’s strutting around dancing and singing. Libby walks up to them and says something. The little girl pauses. After a moment, they exchange hats. Soon, Libby is weaving her way back over to me.

  And as she does, my heart realizes what it should have known years ago. I wasn’t meant to know what love was until I met Libby Akin. Now that I do, I realize it’s a circle because she’s the beginning and the end of it for me.

  “You gave her your signed hat.” I pull her toward me.

  Libby shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Nonna taught me to be grateful for the gifts I’m given and to share when I’ve got excess. Before I walked in the door tonight, I already had so much, Cal. So much. I had you.”

  I can’t not kiss her after a comment like that. When I lift my head, I whisper, “If I had a choice between anything and you, Libby, you know I’d choose you, right?”

  We’re still kissing as the lights drop, announcing Small Town Nights’ arrival on stage.

  17

  Calhoun

  Twelve Years Ago from Present Day

  We stumble into her apartment after the concert. I can’t bear to lift my lips from hers long enough to let her turn off the alarm.

  Libby reaches out a hand to slap at the panel and press a few buttons. I prove how grateful I am the alarm didn’t go off by pressing her body up against the door. Sliding the dress she’s wearing higher up her thighs, I pull one around my hip as I press deep against her.

  She tears her mouth away to moan. “Cal—”

  My lips brush under her jaw gently before I take a small nip. Using my other hand, I cup the fullness of her breast. “Libby, tell me you want me,” I plead.

  Her head jerks back as if she’s been struck. Shit. Fuck. Did I push this too fast? I’m about to back away when all of a sudden, she wraps both arms around my neck and boosts herself up so both legs are hugging my back. Latching herself against my neck, Libby murmurs, “Make sure the door’s locked.”

  Right.

  Flipping the dead bolts, I turn, unable to believe I’m about to make love to the woman I’ve wanted for years but never dared hope I’d have the opportunity to touch. After all, how often can you touch the sun before you get burned?

  I push her back against the door and drop my lips against hers. For long moments, I inhale the fragrant scent of her skin. As I grip the back of her neck, my mouth drops to the pulse throbbing in the base of her throat before I lift my head.

  Libby licks her plump lips as if they’ve become dry in the few moments since I last had my mouth on them. “I want you, Cal.” Her body shivers in my arms as if she’s been imagining this moment.

  She’s not the only one.

  Boosting her tighter against me, I feel her tight nipples press through her dress against my dress shirt. All it does is drive me mad to find out what they look like. Will they be light and pink, daring me to darken them with my teeth and tongue? Are they sweet berries? Or will they be taupe, wanting to turn toasty brown as I suckle them deep in my mouth?

  I can’t wait to find out.

  Striding through her apartment, I make my way into her bedroom, hearing her moan against my ear as each movement of my legs rubs my cock against her thinly covered pussy. “I can’t wait to find out how wet you are,” I mutter. “To find out how slick your body’s making itself for me. God, Libby, do you know how long I’ve wanted to sink my cock into you?” I barely manage to get the last word out when my knees bump against the side of her bed.

  But it’s her words that cause the lust to tear through my system. “Probably about as long as I’ve imagined you doing it,” she admits. Reaching down, she unzips the hidden zipper along the side of her dress to almost midthigh. Reaching under her hair, she unties the knot holding the halter top up. Soon, there’s nothing preventing me from getting to her luscious body but the pressure between us.

  And it’s unacceptable.

  I drop her backward, gripping the edge of her dress as she falls. She lands softly, giggling as, in my haste, I manage to get her dress tangled up in her boots. “Laughing at me only delays me finding my way inside of you,” I warn her with mock seriousness. But my lips are curving and my body’s shaking as I try to untwist her dress before yanking off her first boot and letting it drop. The other goes sailing over my shoulder and lands with a crash that sends Libby into writhing hysterics on the bed. I can’t help but join her.

  Then part of my mind stills. Who would have ever thought to laugh at a time like this? Then again, why am I surprised? It’s Libby. She brings laughter and light to every corner of my life.

  Pulling my shirt over my head, I hop on one leg and quickly untie my boot before doing the same with the other. Libb
y lies on her back like a perfect offering, just waiting for me to take her. Finally, I shuck my jeans and join her on the bed clad in nothing but my black boxer briefs.

  When our skin touches, it sends off sparks that I’d swear must be visible, but I can’t see them in the dimly lit room. I drag my lips down her creamy, perfect skin to reach the light rose-colored nipples that are tightening even more as my mouth waters in anticipation.

  I’m grateful for the dim light in the room as I can not only feel the heat of her arousal against my skin, I can see it as her skin flushes once my lips capture the first of the many treasures I intend on finding tonight. Flicking my tongue back and forth, I brace up on an elbow so my hand can tangle in her hair while my other hand cups her other breast, readying it for my lips, my tongue.

  Libby is arching against me, her hands threaded in my hair, holding me tightly in place. “Cal, so good. So, so, good.”

  I release her nipple, to her dismay, but I surge upward and capture her moan with my lips. Her hands have slid out of my hair, and one slides down my back and into my shorts, pulling me flush against her body. The other wraps around my shoulders; her legs wrap around my hips, pressing her core into me. Imprinting herself on me. I grind my erection into her.

  Her lips wrench away from mine on a gasp, and I know down to my core, neither one of us is coming out of tonight the same as the way we went in.

  I cup Libby’s other breast, holding it as my other hand drifts its way down to the joke of triangle silk she’s been wearing beneath her dress. With a quick yank, I snap the strings obstructing me from getting to the heart of her. Cupping the heat, I let out a sound I’m not quite certain is human when I realize she’s as wet as I am hard. I stroke my fingers through the thin curls covering her until they dance over her clit.

  Libby moans. Her legs drop from my hips and begin to shift restlessly on the bed. “Oh, yes. More,” she begs.

  Pulling the scraps of silk out of the way, I return my hand to begin circling my thumb around and around her swollen clit that’s so sensitive, Libby’s practically levitating each time I touch it. Sliding down her body a bit, I situate myself so my head’s in line with her breast. Just as I plunge two fingers into her tight, wet heat, I press against her clit and take the hardened nipple of her other breast into my mouth, sucking deep.

  And Libby detonates, scoring her nails deep into my shoulders as she comes.

  I let her down gently before I reach over the side of the bed for my jeans. Quickly sliding on a condom, I smooth my hands up her arms until our fingers are twined. Her eyes flutter open. I don’t know what I expect to come out of her mouth, but it sure isn’t “The gentlemanly thing would be to let me die in my perfect puddle of bliss.”

  I shake my head because the grin on her face belies her words. Releasing one of her hands, I lift her leg and press it back toward her chest. Nudging her opening with my cock, I raise a brow. “Want to try again?”

  “Yes, please,” she says immediately.

  I pause, waiting for her to continue. When she doesn’t say anything, I nudge myself in a tiny bit further. And hold.

  “Oh, you mean you want me to say something to make you want to push that cock into my…”

  Yeah, there’s only so much I can take. I press my hips closer, gritting my teeth as her inner walls begin to clamp down. “Pussy,” she whispers. “Push deep into my pussy, Cal. I want it. I want you so, so much.”

  And I push through the tiny muscles until I’m lodged deep into the woman I’ve only dreamed of having. After I release her leg, Libby promptly wraps both around me and reaches up to pull my head down to capture my lips in a brief kiss. Her lips keep moving around my face, touching down like a butterfly here and there.

  I haven’t even started to move, but already it’s the best sex I’ve ever had as her nipples nestle themselves in my chest hair and her pussy clenches and releases all along my cock. God, if it’s this amazing now, what’s it going to feel like when I start to actually fuck her?

  Libby grins. “I don’t know, but anytime you want to get started, I’m on board with finding out.” My head drops as I realize I spoke out loud.

  I grin at her sass though. “Well, this time, I know a surefire way to deal with your mouth,” I declare. Pulling out, I slam back in hard and deep. I’m rewarded by a long moan and her clenching down so tight, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

  And shock washes over me as my hips pull back and push in again. I know I never will.

  Because it’s Libby.

  Push, pull, each time I do, Libby’s hips rise and fall in cadence with me. Until finally, finally, she clenches and releases so hard, her orgasm is ripped from her a second time.

  Burying myself inside of her, I come long and hard, whispering the only thing that matters.

  Her name.

  “Libby,” I moan against the side of her neck.

  Her hands smooth up and down my slick back even as shudders still rack her body.

  Even as our heart rates return to normal, I know nothing is ever going to be the same.

  Nothing.

  Because I didn’t just have sex with Libby. For the first time in my life—I made love. I just don’t know if she realizes it.

  * * *

  We spend all the next day in bed before I had to prepare to head to DC for a last-minute three-day jaunt the Admiral called me about late in the afternoon. I have to deliver a proposal to grant Alliance an exclusive contract with the Navy for intel in the Med and North African theater with him tomorrow afternoon. Since all I have to do is throw a few suits in a bag, I plan on staying with Libby as long as possible.

  I was less than my normally unpleasant self on the phone—something Yarborough took great pleasure in pointing out—since I’d had less than twelve hours wrapped around the woman I’m quickly falling for before being jerked back into reality.

  Libby did her best to soothe the bitterness away by joining me in her shower before I left. “Really, Cal, it’s only three days. I’ll be here when you get back,” she told me as she rubbed the washcloth up and down over my chest. I withstood her slow torture for about three minutes before I boosted her against the wall and crushed my mouth against hers under the rain shower head.

  Her brand of comfort helped but only insomuch as I can pluck out the memories while I sit in my room late at night and imagine her bright green eyes dilating before they drifted shut as I made her body writhe beneath mine.

  I used to not care how long I was away. Now, I’m eager to get back. Then again, I never had anything as profound as Elizabeth Akin waiting for me.

  Before I left, we spent the afternoon curled up at her apartment—just a football game and my woman. And damn, Libby smelled so damn delicious, she made me want to get down on my knees and ask her to call me out sick so I could spend the time eating all the things that would be good for me. While I was contemplating the merits of that, Libby shouted, “Oh, come on, Dawgs! You can play better than this!” amusing me to no end. “How the hell do you expect him to make a pass if he keeps getting sacked?”

  Burying my head into her long hair, I burst out laughing. It sounded like a car backfiring.

  Libby froze. “Every time you do that, I think I must be dreaming.”

  “What?” I brushed a kiss against the side of her neck I’d managed to expose. It’d been at least twenty minutes since I tasted her sweet skin. That’s way too long when the only peace on this earth can be found in her arms.

  “Laugh. You don’t do it much, do you?”

  I paused in trailing kisses down her neck. “I do with you,” I told her honestly.

  And just that quickly, the game was forgotten as she twisted in my arms. “Why?” Confusion was written all over her face.

  I traced her lower lip with my thumb. “Maybe there’s just something cute about the way you yell at the TV.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned around to watch the game.

  Settling back, I pulled her tighter agai
nst me before answering her seriously. “You’ve become everything to me, Libby. I don’t know how it happened, but I know for damned sure no one’s ever been able to make me feel the things you do.” Thoughtfully, I added, “I don’t think anyone else ever can or ever will.”

  Her body stiffened before she turned carefully. Above the roar of a Georgia touchdown, she whispered, “I’m not sure if I understand what that means.”

  Looping my arms around her back, I tumbled her down to the cushions so she cradled me against the inside of her thighs. “I don’t remember wanting to smile before you. I know for damn sure I didn’t laugh.”

  Her eyes widened. “Ever?”

  “What did I have to laugh about?” I scoffed. “I was a foster kid who knew I was only a paycheck until I was eighteen and was handed my walking papers. I grew up young and fast, honey. But one day, I heard this sound that startled me across the quad. It was pouring rain, and everyone around me was cursing about getting wet. But there you were laughing. You were just standing still with your head tilted back absorbing the moment. It’s the first time I consciously remember smiling.”

  She was so still beneath me—no reaction whatsoever. I pressed on. “It was the first moment I felt something more for you.”

  “Why did you wait so long?” Libby asked in a very subdued voice.

  “You were young, honey,” I started to explain, but she cut me off.

  “No. Why did you wait so long to come back into my life?” She fought to pull her arms out from where I had them trapped in between us. “God, Cal, why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because I unconsciously knew we’d end up right here and I was afraid…”

  “Yes?” The edge of her voice was so lethal it could have been a weapon itself.

  “I was afraid I wouldn’t know what to do. I told you, I didn’t know anything about relationships, Libby. Maybe some part of me thought I’d end up hurting you,” I admitted. I didn’t realize until the words came out, until she forced the truth from me, that’s exactly what I was doing by not contacting her. But even as I held my breath, waiting for forgiveness for being a stupid ass and wasting precious time, Libby’s eyes narrowed as she looked for the lie in my words.