I laugh as I move up onto my knees before lowering my body down over hers and kissing her softly. I rub my cock against her opening as I grin down at her. “And what exactly do you think my dick is, sweetheart? A walk in the park on Sunday? I’m going to spank this pretty little pussy with it then fuck you until you scream.”
As I reach over to grab a condom from the bedside drawer, the little devil bites me on the chin. “You’re a lot dirtier in bed than I thought you would be, counselor. Your mouth is downright filthy, and I’m kinda digging it,” she purrs.
I smirk in answer as I roll the condom on and decide on a surprise attack. I’m a big boy and I know it. It’s probably an asshole move, but I know she’s wet enough to take me with possibly only a bite of pain. So I sink into her, bottoming out against her cervix. Her scream fills the room, which might concern me if it weren’t followed almost immediately by a moan of pleasure. Her legs come up around my hips, pushing me even deeper. Eighty bottles of beer on the wall—fuck … or is it seventy? I’ve never been with a woman who seems to love my cock as much as she does. She meets me thrust for thrust, almost chasing my dick down and impaling herself onto it. I’m fast seeing stars and close to severing my tongue as I attempt to hold back. “Come for me, baby, milk me dry,” I beg as we race to the finish. I circle my hips, dragging my root across her clit and feel her detonate under me. My balls tighten and my spine tingles as I pulse a few more times before being taken away by an orgasm that goes on and on. My toes are curling and my ears are roaring as I pull Rose with me and roll to the side—careful to keep our bodies joined. So long. It’s been so long, and she’s so tight and warm. I do not want to leave her body. My heart is beating overtime, and I’m still seeing stars. Fuck. Me. I knew she was sensual, but holy shit. Finally having her …. At this point, I’d normally be ready to put some distance between my bed partner and me. Say a few nice words then cleanup and move on. But the urge isn’t there tonight. I’m in the mood to fucking cuddle, which should be scaring the hell out of me. I haven’t done the post-coital snuggle in years—not since Melly died.
Rose melts another piece of ice from my heart as she drops a soft kiss on my chest. “That was …” she begins, and then appears at a loss for words.
“Some sweet shit?” I offer helpfully, and then grunt as she pokes one of her surprisingly bony fingers into my side.
“You’re not supposed to judge the words someone says during sex. Your brain can only go in so many directions,” she huffs out adorably. “I knew the minute that left my mouth, you were probably laughing your ass off. I don’t even know where it came from.”
I pull her closer to me; I know we’ll have to separate soon, but I want to stay in the moment for as long as possible. A new day is only hours away, but for now, I want to relish feeling like the man I used to be. Before life took away my ability to love. I never thought I’d get that back, but is that where I am headed with Rose? It’s only been since her that I’ve felt this … sense of hope, despite how messed up that must seem. It’s her. Love? I think I want that. If only the days ahead could be as peaceful as this moment. But I know with a sense of foreboding that our struggles have just begun.
13
Rose
“You look different today,” Dr. Chase—or Joanna, as she prefers to be called—says as she twirls a pen in her hand. The woman is entirely too perceptive. I could utter just a few words, and she is able to put a picture together that is too close for comfort at times. I can see why Lucian likes her, though. Her casual form of therapy is surprisingly relaxing. Sure, we’ve had some tough conversations, but I always feel better afterward. I’ve come to think of her as the type of mother figure I always wanted. I’d never confided in either of my parents. They didn’t want to hear about school, boys, or arguments with friends. To them, I left home to get an education and anything else was a silly waste of time. Unless it was an affiliation beneficial to furthering their social connections.
I try but am unable to completely keep a smile from my face. I suspect I’m blushing as well but hope she won’t notice in the dim lamplight that she favors. “I’m enjoying being back at work,” I reply evasively and know there’s no way she’ll let it go at that. The woman is a human bloodhound.
She props her legs farther under her, displaying wacky knee socks that make me like her even more. She could give a rat’s ass about fashion. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.” She looks pleased with my news, and I think she’s actually been derailed until she says, “Have you and Max been intimate since our last session?” My mouth drops open, and she gives me a slight grin as if to say gotcha!
“I—er … well, hell yes,” I grumble. “I fall for that every time.” Rolling my eyes, I add, “You lure me and take me down.”
Not offended in the least, she laughs and props her head in her hand. “It’s my superpower.” She fixes me with one of her intent stares and asks, “So how was it?” When I lift a brow, she clarifies, “I mean, were you comfortable with the aftermath? Sex can bring forth some intense emotions, especially when you have feelings for the other person.”
I know that Joanna has been wary of Max and I having relations for fear that any problems between us might cause me to cut again. After all, it’s only been a few weeks since my last time, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t had the urge. Overall, I’m coping, but I also realize I haven’t been truly tested yet. Other than a few stilted emails, my parents have avoided me since I got home from the hospital, and Max has been there every step of the way to keep me from dwelling on anything for very long. I know I can’t remain in this bubble forever, though, and that eventually, a stressor may come along and shake my strength. “It was amazing,” I say truthfully. “I feel closer to him now, and he seems to feel the same. He’s been more affectionate, even before we had sex. This morning we—you know, did it again and it was slower—almost loving.”
“You seem surprised by that,” she astutely muses. “You’ve indicated before that he’s protective of you, but he appears to have something holding him back. Do you still feel that way?”
“To a degree,” I admit. “But it’s better than it was. As I said, he’s opening up more. We’re comfortable around each other and he kept touching me as we were getting ready and having breakfast together this morning.”
“So why don’t you ask him about his past?” she asks, sounding curious. “Are you afraid he won’t talk to you about it or is it something else?”
I run a hand through my hair, trying to gather my thoughts. I’m not sure why this question is hard, but then it hits me and I feel a moment’s panic. “I’m scared it will change things between us. What if he can never love me? Right now, I have hope that it will work out, but what if it’s taken away from me?”
“That’s everyone’s fear in a relationship, Rose,” she says gently. “To open yourself up to love is also to expose yourself to the possibility of loss. Unfortunately, you’re only living half a life without the risk.”
“But isn’t the reward worth it when it works out?” I ask, hesitantly. A woman my age shouldn’t be so damn uncertain of a man, but I can’t help it. I’ve never felt for anyone the way I do for Max. “Damn, you’re right. We probably shouldn’t have slept together.”
“Then why did you?” she asks, looking at me intently.
I blurt it out, knowing she can handle the truth. “Because I was horny and I’m also in love with him. The first was a very pressing need, and the second just made it that much better.” I’m surprised at how easily I’ve revealed the depth of my feelings for Max to Joanna. But there is just something about talking to someone who isn’t a part of our group. It’s almost as if I want to see her reaction before I tell the rest of the world.
Never one to be rattled by my off-color comments, she points her pen at me and says, “And there you have it, my friend. The two things that will make us go out onto a limb every time—love and lust. No one is immune to the power they hold, and it’s probably one
I take a cab back to the office. Lucian has insisted on loaning me a company car from Quinn Software until I’m able to afford something of my own. Someone is supposed to drop it by this afternoon. Strangely enough, Max hadn’t been too happy over it. He’d grumbled under his breath that he’d been planning to get me one. But I’d rather borrow one than let Max spend any more money on me. I’m not used to being the charity case in the group and it’s unsettling. I refused to accept Lia’s offer to pay me for the time I’d been off work. That was more of a handout than I could handle. At this rate, it’s already going to be months before I can pay Max back. And I know that’s going to be a fight. He’s made it clear that he does not intend to take my money. I don’t think he understands how important it is to me to feel as if I’m standing on my own two feet. Even if it takes me a while to do that without stumbling.
I pull my phone from my purse to check in with Max. He’s always concerned after one of my therapy sessions, and I want to send him a quick text to let him know that I survived. I go warm and mushy when I see a message already waiting from him.
Hey baby, thinking of you and hoping you had a good meeting with Joanna. Miss you.
I startle the cab driver when I throw my head back and begin laughing. Max Decker, normally reserved counselor extraordinaire, used a heart emoticon at the end of his text … and it’s about the sweetest thing ever. I hit the reply button and quickly type a response.
Everything went great. Miss you too. Can’t wait to be home.
I then add an emoticon of a kitten blowing kisses. It’s hard to believe that I’m doing something so normal with him. If he brings out the best in me, then I hope I do the same for him.
As giddy as I am, the fear is still there. I’ve opened myself to Max in a way that I never did with Jake. I’m terrified that, at some point, I’ll disappoint him, and he’ll realize that underneath it all, I’m just too big of a mess to deal with. I shake off the negative thoughts as soon as they come. I refuse to do that—to keep buying in to the shit my parents shoveled at me for years. At this point, they’re barely even a part of my life anymore. It’s all on me. I’m in charge now. There may be setbacks, and some days aren’t going to be rainbows and kittens, but dammit, the alternative is unacceptable. Failure could well end up in my death, and that’s no longer a risk I’m willing to overlook.
I step out of the car in front of my office and throw my shoulders back. “One day at a time,” I say under my breath, as I take another leap into the life I want to live.
At that point, I had no idea that my new resolve would be tested so soon.
* * *
Lucian and I take a seat at the conference room table at Quinn Software. Before we say more than a few words, Cindy escorts in Don Ellis, the investigator Lee Jacks had recommended. I’ve had several conversations with him on the telephone, but today is our first face-to-face. To date, he’s been terse yet professional, and as Lucian and I rise to our feet and introductions are made, I feel a little in awe. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of this man.
Don pulls an iPad from his briefcase, and I have to smile at how things have changed. It seems as if handwritten notes are no longer the norm. I rather miss it sometimes. Although considering my vast collection of electronics, I don’t think I’d be willing to go back again. He scrolls through the screen before setting it down on the table and clearing his throat. “I found nothing unusual on Ms. Madden’s background check.” I feel a sense of something like disappointment. “But then I enhanced the search to include her family and things got a little interesting.”
When he pauses as if to gauge our reaction, Lucian waves an insistent hand and asks impatiently, “Are you going to continue, or are we supposed to guess?”
Instead of being offended at Lucian’s bluntness, Don smirks, which should have told me something big was coming. “There’s no record of Celia Madden having given birth—ever.”
I process his words before rubbing my neck to ease the tension building there. “So you’re saying that Rose was adopted?”
Don leans back in his chair and crosses his legs before shaking his head. “No. See, that’s the interesting part. I can’t find any record of that either, and believe me, I’ve been through every database there is—twice.”
“But isn’t that type of information sealed?” Lucian asks.
Don raises a brow as if to say, Come on. “I have ways around that. There is nothing sealed or otherwise to show that Rose Madden was adopted. Essentially, she has a birth certificate with nothing at all to back it up. That in itself is more common than you would think, but generally, there’s something criminal involved. Everyone has an origin, and if it’s being hidden, there’s a reason. I vaguely recall a case that we studied while I was in school at Stanford Law. It’s been a while since I’ve delved into family law, but I do recall very strict punishment.”
I’m grasping at straws, but I toss it out there anyway. “That’s probably not something that most people ever have checked. Maybe it’s a clerical error somewhere.”
“It’s not,” Don says flatly. “Her birth certificate is worth the paper it’s written on and that’s it. It looks completely normal until you research it and find that there are no actual records to support her birth occurring.”
Lucian tosses the pen he’s been holding on the table in frustration. “I knew there was something there. Maybe it’s time we confronted her parents. They’re a bunch of pretentious assholes, but I didn’t actually think they were criminals.”
Don holds a hand out hastily. “Don’t do that yet. If you tip them off, they’ll muddy the trail as much as they can. Right now, it’s been years since Rose’s birth, and I would imagine they’ve relaxed their guard. It’ll be easier to dig without them being suspicious.”
“Do you have any clues as to what we’re looking for?” I ask, still reeling from his news.
“I’ve been running checks into their household staff, going all the way back to when Celia would have supposedly been pregnant. I wanted to see if I could find anyone who might be willing to talk to me. In doing so, I’ve come across Carl and Patricia Wheeten, a husband and wife who worked for the Maddens for ten years. They both left right after Rose’s birth. They had a daughter who would have been fifteen at the time, Daisy Wheeten.”
Lucian shrugs his shoulder. “Okay. Do they still live locally?”
“Carl passed away a few years ago, and Patricia lives with her sister in Alabama. But Daisy’s the person I’d really like to speak with.” If he doesn’t provide more information, and soon, then I will snap. Having known Lucian for many years, I can sense his tension too. “She had a baby two days before Rose was born. And I haven’t found any record of that child from the time Daisy and her daughter left the hospital.”
“Fuck,” Lucian spits out.
The lawyer in me doesn’t believe in coincidences. “Did she name the baby Poppy?” I ask, and then hold my breath awaiting his reply.
He gives me a rueful smile. “That I don’t know. The birth certificate says Baby Wheeten. And it was never updated. There is also no father listed. Before you ask, I’ve checked the death records as well. If the baby died, it wasn’t recorded through official channels.”
“So my girlfriend’s a ghost,” I murmur uneasily. In a way, I’m relieved that she doesn’t appear to be the biological daughter of such assholes as the Maddens. But the question remains … who is she? Could there be a link to the Wheetens?
“She’s certainly a mystery,” Don agrees before getting to his feet. “I have a few leads to follow up on. I’ll be in touch as soon as I know more.”
Lucian walks him out, then returns to flop down in his chair. “We certainly don’t pick boring women to love, do we?”
“No, we don’t,” I agree wryly. “Which way are you leaning with all of this?”
He looks thoughtful for a moment. “I’d assume she was adopted if not for the fact that there’s nothing to support that. And I know my father-in-law well enough to guarantee that Don knows what he’s talking about. If he says he looked in all places, then he did. You and I both never believed that her recurring dream was random, and after what he said, I’m positive there’s more.”
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