by Dara Girard
“I wasn’t going to do anything,” she cut in. “I was just thinking about it. Why do you have to keep bringing it up?” She pushed back her chair. “Maybe...maybe this isn’t a good idea after all.”
“I want to understand how a mother could—”
“Think that her son would be better off without her? Her ex too? How she could imagine how much easier his life would be if he didn’t have to choose between the two? If the choice was made for him? How she could imagine a simple burial, a few tears shed for her and then be lost to memory? How her son would only know that she’d been involved in an accident, that she’d leave no note so that there could be no thought of suicide?
“How this woman would wrap herself in all her sorrow, let the darkness of her thoughts, thoughts that won’t leave her, thoughts that grow blacker with each day, and throw herself into the path of release?” Corinne gripped her hands into fists. “It was a moment of weakness. A moment I wish you’d never seen. A moment that I'm ashamed anyone witnessed, but a moment I needed because I needed to face my pain, my fear. When you’re alone. No, that’s not right. When you feel alone. Truly alone...that moment of agony is so acute you just want it to end by any means. That’s the woman you saw that day. I can’t pretend she won’t come back, that I won’t waver, that I'm as strong as you, but if you can’t accept that then I have wasted your precious time and I won’t do it anymore.”
Brett stared at her for a long moment and she saw judgment in his gaze before he lowered it. Her heart fell. He wasn’t safe. He wasn’t someone who could understand her. Someone she could trust.
“You don’t know your power,” he said in a soft voice.
“I’m sorry?”
“You call yourself weak, pathetic, but you’re wrong. You don’t know how truly powerful you are and that’s what frightens me. Reckless power. You have no idea how many lives you impact. The carnage you’d leave behind.” He lifted his dark gaze to capture and hold hers. “Perhaps I’m the weak one. Perhaps I’m the one who’s not as strong as he should be because I can’t risk...I couldn’t face...I’m not...” He took a deep, steadying breath. “I want to be with you. I want to sleep with you. But I will not go through that again. I don’t want to worry that if we have an argument you might try—”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me. Promise me that much. On the life of your son promise me.”
Corinne stared at him, shocked by the pain in his voice. “Who was it?”
“Promise me.”
“How old were you?”
“I said—”
“No, I won’t promise you.”
He stared at her uncertain. “Why not?”
“I won’t promise because you won’t believe me. You won’t let go. Just as you won’t let go of that moment and I won’t spend my time trying to convince you to trust me. I’m not fragile like glass, if you’re worried I'll break then perhaps we shouldn’t be talking at all. I can tell you this much. I have dark moments, I think dark thoughts, but I want to see my son grow up, I want to run my business and I want to be with you too. I thought about you all week. I’ve dreamed about you. I want to get to know all about you. I lost myself for a long time and I’m…recreating myself. I’m not going to do anything rash and I’m not going anywhere. That’s all I can promise you.”
Brett released a long sigh. “I see.”
Corinne swallowed her heart heavy. “It’s not enough, is it?”
“No.”
She stood, defeated. She’d tried and it had all been wasted. The clothes, the food, the speech. Vivian had warned her about his boundaries. About his guard. She hadn’t been able to penetrate them. She hadn’t won at all.
“But it will have to be,” Brett said in a soft voice. A voice so soft it felt like a caress.
She met his gaze.
He stood and held out his hand. “Because I want this more than anything. Come. I have to show you something.”
She hesitated. “How old were you when...”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Okay.” She took his hand and the moment they touched she felt a warm shiver course through her.
One day she wanted to ask him more, but knew better than to press him. They’d both already revealed more than they’d expected to. Part of her wanted to run from this solid, intense man and hide. How could she have said things she’d never told anyone else? What did he really think of her? Did it matter? She was still here. She looked down at his hand. He held hers so causally in his hand she’d forgotten about it. That surprised her. She’d expected a man like him to have a possessive, tight grasp that made it impossible not to notice. But no, his clasp was strangely tender, comforting. What pain had he gone through? She hoped she’d get to know in time so that she could comfort him in return.
She let him lead her to the living room; she hadn’t left the kitchen since she’d arrived. She’d been too afraid to make another wrong move and ruin whatever relationship they were building. She didn’t want to see what he didn’t want her to.
Once there she looked around the room expecting it to be similar to his office, but it wasn’t. It was more classically comfortable with a grey couch and a hand woven Moroccan rug—their color tones matching the large black and white poster of three male dancers, facing the camera, doing a split in mid air. She pointed and gasped when she recognized the person to the right. “It’s you! You are a dancer.”
“I was a dancer. Many years ago. Tap and street.”
She walked closer to the poster impressed by the power of the pose. “Oh my goodness you were so young.” She turned to him. “Why did you stop?”
Brett glanced away and she sensed he’d shut the door on that topic. “I didn’t bring you in here to see that.” He pointed to another large photograph. “What do you think?”
She saw the profile of a lioness resting in the grass. “It’s a beautiful picture.”
“A friend of mine took that picture while on a trip to South Africa and gave it to me as a gift. She’s my favorite animal. A lioness has no mane, but she has no need of one. She has nothing to prove, every action shows her warrior spirit. She works with others when needed, provides for her young. A fierce, beautiful creature.”
“I’m surprised. I thought you would have chosen the lion, who is usually alone.”
“No,” Brett said in a raw whisper, turning her to him. “That's the problem. I don’t want to be alone,” and he showed her the strength of his feelings by pressing his lips to hers.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Somehow she had expected this. Wanted this. Wanted to feel this man’s lips on hers, to feel the heat of his body against hers. She didn’t think it would happen tonight, she’d dreamt it might, but she’d imagined they would have had a few more dates before this moment.
But this moment, this heavenly moment was perfect. She already felt ripped bare so all her senses felt extra heightened—the scent of him (vanilla), the feel of him (smooth), the taste of him (sweet). How could a man with such hard eyes, guarded emotions, enigmatic expressions, how could this guarded man have such a soft—buttery soft—mouth? How could it feel so right to be in his arms?
“Come with me,” he growled then led her to his bedroom where he drew her close again and let his mouth leave a trail of sizzling kisses down her neck.
His hot hands made a searing descent down her hip and slid to her thigh. She froze. She moved his hand and placed it back on her waist. After a few seconds his hand made another dangerous descent and she pushed it back up.
Brett drew back and stared at her confused. “What are you doing?”
She grinned and toyed with one of the buttons of his shirt. “Do I really need to explain it to you?”
He didn’t smile back. “You don’t like me to touch you?”
“Anywhere but the thighs.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Those are the rules.”
He slowly blinked. “There are rules?”
“Yes. You can touch me anywhere—”
“But the thighs.”
She nodded.
“But I like them the best,” he said like a kid being denied his favorite toy.
She pushed away from him. “Very funny.”
“I’m not kidding. What’s wrong with your thighs?”
“You know what’s wrong...please don’t pretend...” Corinne took a deep breath. “Can’t we just finish what we were doing?”
“In case you were wondering, I want to sleep with you.”
She leaned in close and whispered, “I believe that’s why we’re here,” she said glancing around his bedroom.
He held her back. “That means I want to roll up your skirt, pull down your stockings and get between your thighs.”
“Which you can do later, when it’s dark—”
He swore. “If you don’t want to do this, just say so.”
“I am saying so. You’re the one who isn’t listening.” She grabbed the front of his shirt. “Just follow my lead and I’ll show you.” She kissed him again, stopping any protest. She unbuttoned his shirt; he unzipped her dress, it fell to the floor revealing her black slip.
He frowned at the sight of it. “What’s that? It’s blocking my view of your—”
“Which is exactly the point. Plus it controls static cling, especially with stockings.”
“Good to know. Now let’s—” He reached for her slip.
She stopped him. “I’ll remove it later.” She pushed him backwards and they fell on the bed. His hand slid down her hip towards her thigh, she removed it. He made a growl of protest but didn’t argue.
She rolled off her stockings and dove under the covers, before she shimmied out of her slip, while Brett stripped out of his clothes. But when he got in bed beside her and started to lift the covers to get a better look at her, she snatched them away and said, “Look at me.”
He tugged at the covers. “I’m trying to.”
“I mean my face.”
He shifted his gaze. “I am looking.”
“Good. Keep your gaze there and let your body do the rest.”
“You’re not serious?”
“I’m perfectly serious.” She reached for him. “Do you need me to guide you?”
“No.”
“Good.” She kissed him again. The feel of his bare body touching hers made her wet with wanting. She moaned against his lips.
He groaned then he drew back and shook his head. “I can’t do it like this.”
“Want to switch positions?” she said breathless, eager to feel him close again.
“I want to touch you.”
“You are.”
“Everywhere.”
She clenched her teeth. Why was he being so stubborn? “I don’t ask for much.” She bit her lip. “Please understand I’m very conscious about my flaws.”
“What flaws?” He pulled back the sheets revealing her bare lower half.
She screamed in outrage and grabbed the sheets. “What is wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me or with you.”
Corinne stared at him, her voice filled with hurt. “Since you clearly don’t understand boundaries, I should go.”
Brett sighed. “You’ve got great legs.”
“Lying doesn’t help.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You’re saying I have gorgeous, slender legs.”
“No.”
“So you were lying.”
“No,” he said again, slowly. “You do have great legs. Beautiful, curvy legs.”
“Thick legs like tree trunks.”
Brett ran a hand down his face and mumbled. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”
“Then let’s not.” She wiggled on her slip.
“You’re telling me you come here wearing sexy animal print stockings and you don’t like your legs?”
She picked her dress up from off the floor. “I did it because I had to.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
He came up behind her and whispered, “I happen to like your legs. I find them very attractive. You don’t have to tease me like this.”
“I’m not teasing.”
He placed a warm, wet kiss on the back of her neck. “All the stockings you’ve been wearing—”
“There aren’t that many.”
“Weren’t to impress me?”
She sighed. She couldn’t tell him that she’d been forced to. She had to admit that she’d gotten used to wearing them, but without them she was reminded of how ordinary she was.
“Indulge me,” Brett said in a low silky voice, turning her to face him. “You may not like your legs, but I do. Let me introduce myself.”
“In-introduce yourself?”
“Yes.” He gently pushed her back, forcing her to sit on the edge of the bed then knelt down in front of her. His gaze swept down her lower half with admiration. “Corinne’s beautiful legs you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to be this close to you.”
“Brett—”
He lifted his gaze and shot her a look. “Excuse me, but this is a private conversation.”
He slowly ran one large hand up her calf then along her inner thigh, filling her body with sweet anticipation. “I’m looking forward to getting better acquainted,” he said in a husky whisper. “I’m sorry it took this long.” He pressed his warm mouth against the tender skin of one thigh and then the other before he cupped the back of her thigh. “You’re like a juicy papaya in my hand. Sweet, ripe, full, succulent.” He pressed his lips against her thigh and sucked her skin before she felt the wet tip of his tongue. “So delicious.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Corinne said, feeling aroused and breathless. “They used to call me thunder thighs at school.”
Brett’s eyes met hers. But it was the expression in them that shocked her. His gaze smoldered. Making her body turn hot and wet.
His expression stilled; an eager note entered his voice. “Are you serious?”
Corinne licked her lips unsure of his response, unsure why the look in his eyes made her senses spin. “Y-yes.”
Brett slowly rose to his feet, his intense gaze never leaving her face. “They called you thunder thighs?”
She could only nod.
He rewarded her with a sexy smile. “Then let the thunder roll.” He covered her mouth with a hungry kiss and they both fell back on the bed, his body covering hers. He whispered against her lips, “I want to feel your thighs wrapped around me. I want to fear being struck by lightning.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs. She couldn’t believe he’d turned a painful nickname into something sexy.
Because that’s how she felt. She took the lead, no longer ashamed; she’d worry about how she felt afterwards.
“Make the ground move,” he begged. “Make the earth shake. I want to feel every part of you. Make me tremble, baby. Yes… squeeze me like that.”
He was being so stupid, she started to giggle.
“Are you laughing at me?”
She nodded.
“I don’t care.”
And soon she didn’t either. She’d lost any feeling of self-consciousness around him. She didn’t know how he did it but he didn’t make her feel awkward, he was so comfortable in his own skin he made her feel the same. Soon her self-awareness fell away. She wanted to be here with him. If he didn’t find her legs and thighs awful, why should she? He made her feel sexy, wild, alive. She wanted this feeling, this moment to last.
Now she knew why she wasn’t afraid. She’d met her equal. That’s how this felt. In spite of his success and physical beauty she saw a weakness and vulnerability in him that made her feel secure. Safe. He hadn’t cruelly teased her; he hadn’t dismissed her fears. Instead he’d forced her to face them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “Thank you,” and she felt him smile.<
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But she wanted him to do more than smile; she wanted to free him too. To free him from the dark secrets he kept guarded. He wasn’t ready yet to reveal all his secrets, but she’d be patient.
Her hands slid down the corded muscles of his back; the dragon dream flashed in her mind when their bodies became one. And she rode this dragon to new heights. She didn’t need clouds, her body felt like it was soaring and she reveled in the warmth of his soft flesh as they both went higher and higher…
She might have cried out in ecstasy, she couldn’t remember. Her body hummed; her mind empty. All she could do was taste the sweetness of his lips, hear the sound of his breathing, smell the fresh powder scent of his sheets.
They collapsed in each other’s arms with languid exhaustion.
In the sudden stillness she said, “You broke the rules you know.”
Brett nodded unrepentant. “I know.” He grinned. “Can I break them again?”
She met his smile and slid her arm around his neck. “Absolutely.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I don’t want to hear anything else about him.”
Corinne stared at Bonnie as they sat across from each other in a popular family friendly restaurant known for great chicken quesadillas and buffalo wings. A humid summer heat had swept through the city, but she suddenly felt ice cold. Her friend’s statement had cut through her story about how Brett had made Jason feel useful when he’d invited her son over to play with Alvin and Martha. It had been two months since the workshop and Jason hadn’t gotten into anymore fights through the end of the school year and her last weekend visit with him had gone well. He was now on holiday in Italy with Harrison and his family. Jason had sent her a few pictures of his trip, but Bonnie’s statement swept that from her mind. “What?”
“This new guy in your life. I’m not interested.”
“I’ve only just started talking about him.”
She eyed Corinne’s cream colored summer dress. “Is he the reason for your new look?”
“No,” Corinne said with a sigh. She was used to Bonnie’s dour moods but sometimes it hurt more than others. “And I told you that before.”
