by Liz Crowe
Mitchell, home from his stint in the hospital a few days after her. Suzanne, on this very porch waiting for him, and realizing that she had to do something or he would without a doubt kill her the next time. His angry voice, clattering up the steps then with a simple push the man fell back, his broken leg giving him no purchase. And the distinct sound of a broken skull on the large granite banister.
He shut his eyes. “Stop,” he croaked out, unable to take more.
“No,” she said, her voice strong. “I need you to hear it all.”
He took the few steps between them and scooped her up, held her close and kept listening. Blake’s insistence on staying with her, her first time having sex after Mitchell’s brutality with his body and broken glass, all of it, she spared him no detail. He kissed her hair, rubbed her back as she started shivering. “God,” She put her head on his shoulder. “I’m a real mess. You sure you want any part of this?”
“Go on,” he whispered. “How did it end?” His own connection with Sara’s brother made him ask. “I need to know.”
She wiped her arm across her face. “I made him go. I…I loved him, like I told you, but he was too much a part of that whole horrific moment. I needed to get my life back on track and every time I saw him, I saw Mitchell…could hear the glass, and me screaming, smell blood. It was unfair to Blake. Totally and completely, and I know it, and am still coming to terms with it.”
“He seems to have landed on his feet, with Rob.” Craig brushed her hair off her face.
She sighed and visibly relaxed. “Yes. Thank god. I’m so happy for them. Although it’s beyond weird too, all the connections. I mean Rob was one of my best friends in college. And the whole Jack and Sara thing…Jesus…Anyway…”
Craig held her close. “I’m grateful for Blake,” he said.
She looked away from him but he turned her chin and made her face him. “He saved your life.” He brushed a kiss over her trembling lips. “And I’m grateful for Sara. She introduced us, remember?”
She nodded and put her arms around his neck, giving him a much more meaningful kiss. He stood and carried her inside. “Now, let me set about proving to you how grateful I am, you sexy ginger girl you.”
Chapter Twenty
Craig rolled over, draping an arm across Suzanne’s hip. She shifted, mumbled and molded against him, bringing every part of him fully awake. The sun pierced the blinds, hitting him square in the eye; he buried his face in her neck, killing a couple of birds with one stone. He let his hand trail along her hip, down one leg then up, reveling in the way she sighed and turned to face him.
“Mmm…” he muttered into her ear, realizing he’d very nearly missed the night, the opportunity—hell, had nearly missed her. His heart pounded but then calmed when she touched him. He closed his eyes, leaned into the cool palm she put against his face.
“I’m glad you came back.” Her voice tickled his ear as she snuggled in, tucking herself into the curve of his body.
“Me too, especially if you keep doing that.” She trailed her hand across his shoulder, down to his bare hip then forward to grip his morning-hard cock. “Yeah. That.”
She giggled into his chest and kept moving her hand up and down both torturing and pleasuring when she would stop and use his own fluid to lubricate her action. His hips thrust, matching her movements. The sensation of her lips and teeth against his nipple made him moan, but he bit it back, tried to resist, wanting to please her first.
“Let it go Craig,” she whispered, as her lips made their way up his neck. Her firm breasts pressed against him and her hand kept that infernally amazing activity on his flesh. “Come for me,” she demanded as she licked her way back down and captured his nipple between her teeth once more.
“Shit,” he grunted and allowed himself the intense pleasure of exactly that. He leaned his head back as the orgasm gathered strength at the base of his spine then roared up and captured his brain, making him cry out and be momentarily blinded by physical release. He held her close as his body kept zinging while spasms of pleasure thrummed through every nerve ending.
“Good morning.” She tilted her face up and kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, making him nearly wild with something he couldn’t name, but made his head buzz with intensity. He held her close as they kissed, then flipped her over, holding her arms down as he did his own tongue dance down her neck, to her breasts. He sucked first one, then the other luscious nipple before sinking down between her legs and tasting every glorious centimeter of her sex.
She groaned and gripped his hair, wrapped both legs around him and tilted her hips up, meeting him halfway. He flicked at the hard nub of her clit, teased around it as he slid a finger inside the tight glove of her body. “Stop that,” she said, making him smile before he tugged her clit between his lips, sucking hard. Her body clenched. He smelled and tasted her, anticipated her orgasm approach with all of his senses.
“Oh yes!” Her hiss of satisfaction filled his ears, and he groaned when his cock shifted and hardened again. He gripped her hips and held her body close, suddenly needing a different sort of connection. Needing it so badly he thought he might explode if he couldn’t get inside her within the next few seconds.
She gasped as he climbed up between her legs. “What?” Her eyes were bright, her grin infectious.
“Oh nothing.” He tried to calm his own breathing, but the feel of her legs around his waist and the heat of her pussy against his newly aching shaft made him gulp. “Just thought we might….”
“What?” She angled her hips and he sighed as he slipped inside her, loving the grip of her body. “What did you think we might do?” She threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged him close to her lips. “Because I think this…” She thrust against him, using her inner muscles to grip him hard. “This is what I think you might like."
“Good call.” Craig pulled out, then thrust in, just to feel that amazing stretch and give of her body around his. He stared at her as their bodies connected, each of them moving in perfect rhythm. “I figured you for a pretty smart girl. Guess I was right.”
He propped himself up on both arms and looked down, wanting to see, as well as, feel and smell their passion. Loving the sight of his cock emerging, slick and throbbing from her body only to slide back in and experience the mind-blowing glove of her pussy.
“Harder,” she whispered, running her hands down his face, across his shoulders, and down his chest. Every inch of his skin tingled; every nerve ending was on fire. The urge to possess her, to prove something, to be everything she would ever need made him close his eyes against the powerful desire to say the words he knew she wasn’t ready to hear.
Not yet. Not after the hard truths he’d laid on him last night. He still reeled from it and his brain buzzed with fury at her dead asshole of a husband and with sympathy for Blake.
She reached back, gripped the headboard and lifted her hips high. His brain fogged. His cock jerked and his lips betrayed him at the last minute in that split second after a truly knee-melting orgasm, which turns a man into a quivering pile of useless flesh. Her body bucked against his, the pulse and contraction of her climax pulling him even further into the deep recesses of words he knew he should not say.
He collapsed down onto her, their sweat slicking their flesh. “I love you, Suzanne.” She started to stiffen beneath him, but Craig lifted his face from her breasts and held her still. “You might as well accept that.”
Her contented smile and relaxing body made him nearly weep with relief. He collapsed down beside her and tugged her close, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her hair. “Okay,” she muttered into his chest.“ But you might regret it.”
“I doubt that very much.” He relaxed as sleep stole across his orgasm-addled brain.
When he woke to the irritating loop of banjo music from his phone, she was gone. He squinted at the phone’s screen, groaned, then showered, found an apple in the kitchen and saw her sitting out on the patio cradling a s
teaming cup of coffee to her chest. He watched her a minute, but left her alone figuring that was best. He scribbled out a note and left it propped on the coffee maker after he filled a travel mug and then left.
“See you tomorrow. But I’ll be in touch before that. Love, C”
Suzanne heard him moving around in the kitchen and had that weird split feeling in her chest again. She knew damn good and well how he felt about her. Craig had fallen into her life at such a strange moment for them both. But as much as she wanted him, wanted to be with him forever, another darker something kept reminding her that it should not be. The physical scars had healed, but at times she wondered if the emotional ones would ever fade. She sipped, staring out into the woods at the edge of the yard.
Mitchell, her late husband, had loved her at one time. Then he let obsession get the best of him which had turned into a frightening abuser. He had nearly killed her, too, that last time, here in this house. She shut her eyes, forced it out and tried to recall Craig’s words, his arms, lips and hands. Did she deserve him?
Her phone buzzed at her elbow but she ignored it in favor of reliving the many supremely romantic moments she’d shared with Craig. Forcing memories of Mitchell’s angry face out of her head.
Her face flushed, recalling last night when he’d roared up on that stupid motorcycle and declared he loved her, even after she told him her horrible story. She sighed, stretched out her well-sated body and thought back even further, to the moment she’d met him.
Sara had introduced them at the Big House Tap Room. She’d berated herself about the sudden attraction.
For Christ’s sake what was it with you and younger men?
She shook her head, finished the coffee and stood.
The phone kept buzzing. She finally glanced at it and saw Rob had been calling her for the last fifteen minutes. Hitting redial as she wandered back inside, she made a mental note to call Jack and get this house listed and sold.
The damn place echoed with the ghosts of her former life--the sounds of her angry, abusive spouse, her own screams of fear and their loud arguments. Then the shattering of glass that last night, when he’d raped her, beaten her and cut her so badly she had to have multiple plastic surgeries for her face. And she still hadn’t owned up to the facts of the damage he did to her baby-making anatomy. Doctors warned her about her ability to have kids. But she never had it confirmed. It seemed like too much to take on, and besides, until now, who really cared? She took it at face value, and her irregular cycle didn’t help matters any.
She still had her small condo downtown, where she’d retreated after breaking it off with Blake. She wanted to live there, inhabit that smaller, less threatening space. The thought of it made her smile as her old friend answered the phone.
“Suze, have you heard from Jack?”
She poured more coffee, still only half listening, as the Craig-fixated part of her brain warmed her from the inside out. “No. Why?”
“He’s on his way to Germany.”
She stopped stock still, unsure if she heard him correctly.
“Yeah,” Rob went on. “It’s Maureen's husband, Brandis. He’s dead.”
“Oh God,” She sank into a kitchen chair, her hands shaking. Jack’s brother-in-law had been one of his best friends from high school and had married Jack’s sister when they’d been very young. Brandis and Maureen had twins, a boy and a girl, and were about to move back to the states after nearly seven years overseas.
“Anyway, thought you should know.”
“Okay, thanks.” She clicked off. Then hit the Jack speed dial, thinking to at least leave him a message of support. Jack had been her first crush in college but after one hot connection they agreed to stay friends. And he’d been steadfast for her for years since.
“Hey.” His voice sounded surprisingly close.
“Hey yourself.” She leaned back in the chair and tried to think what she could possibly say at this point. “I’m sorry, honey. So very sorry.”
“Yeah, it’s, um, a real mess.”
“You’re there already?”
Jack heaved a huge sigh. “Airport. Waiting for a cab.”
“Well, I’m around if you want to talk about it.”
“I heard you turned down a perfectly legit proposal recently.”
The sudden change of subject made her frown. Then she realized what he was talking about and the frown deepened. “None of your business, really. Shit, news travels fast in our circle.”
“Someday you’re going to have to let go of that chokehold you have on yourself. The one that makes you think you aren’t allowed to be happy.”
“You concentrate on helping your family over there. Let me worry about my happiness.”
“Okay, okay I hear you. But, please realize that a lot of us think you deserve to cut yourself some slack. You sliced Blake out of your life and that worked out fine for him, but….”
“All right, spare me, Gordon. He’s…” She stopped, unsure what she could possibly say about Craig. She realized she missed him already. And then in the same thought acknowledged she would likely continue to push him away.
Jack broke the silence. “I know, honey. He’s a great guy. If anybody knows that, I do.”
She smiled. “Go on, do what you gotta do. Call me later if you need anything. I’ll check in with Sara too, and Katie.”
“Thanks babe. You’re the best.”
“And to think you took a pass….”
He chuckled. “Oh, I would have just fucked your life up even more I think. I’ll call you later. Bye.”
She sat and stared at her phone a long time contemplating the many odd turns her life had indeed taken to lead her here.
Chapter Twenty-One
Craig lay back on the blanket under the huge tree, loving the sensation of Suzanne’s head resting on his leg as she propped there, holding her e-reader. It was one of his rare days off and they’d had a picnic by the river. His stomach was full. His heart stuffed with unsaid words.
He ran his fingers through her hair, loving the silky feel of it, but knew he shouldn’t ruin the moment by talking. She valued her silences, and he was getting used to them, coming to appreciate them even. The sun moved towards the horizon sending long shadows between the trees around the edge of the river.
The high-pitched squeal of kids made him sit up. A couple of families were engaged in an impromptu soccer game, the parents encouraging what looked to be five-year olds to kick the ball past their friends and into a small net. He smiled at the scene.
The unmistakable sensation of Suzanne’s mood change as she moved away from him made him wish he hadn’t paid any attention. He put a hand on her knee. Her thousand-yard stare remained fixed in place. He cursed himself, cursed the innocent families and then frowned. “Listen, Suzanne, you can’t always get all twitchy when there are kids around. You know I don’t give two shits about….”
She stood, brushing off her jeans, letting him know any further conversation would be between him and the tree. But a sudden anger pierced him, pushing his usual laid-back attitude under a layer of frustration that was becoming entirely too familiar. He grabbed her hand. “Don’t walk away from me.”
She glared at him, tension oozing out of every pore. “Why not?”
“God, but you are the most obtuse woman on the planet. Sit down.”
She raised an eyebrow, settled that familiar “I don’t give a shit” look on her face and sat. He swallowed hard.
“Listen, I know I rushed you early on. I respect that you thought we should get to know each other, and you were right. I needed to purge Sara out of my system, to understand how I felt about you. I did that, so I don’t know what more I can do to prove to you how I feel. It’s starting to feel like an excuse not to marry me. And it won’t fly anymore.”
She blew out a breath, bent her knees and wrapped her arms around them as if trying to draw in on herself even further. It took all he had not to wrap his arms around her and soothe her out of
her funk, but he kept his distance, and looked into her eyes. “Talk to me, Suzanne. I can’t take much more of this.”
“Much more of what?” She looked away. “We’re having fun aren’t we? You get laid on a regular basis.”
Craig’s heart pounded as his temper rose. He kept his mouth shut though. She let the silence spin out for a few minutes, then spoke, sending a sharp pain straight through his gut.
“I warned you Craig. I’m damaged. I can’t be what anyone needs me to be other than maybe a girlfriend and beer marketing expert. Don’t pressure me.”
“I’m not pressuring you. But I’ll be damned if every time you think I am looking at a kid, or a family, you flip out on me.”
“I’m not flipping out.”
“You just did.”
She looked straight at him. The hurt in her eyes made him grind his teeth with anger. If that asshole of an abusive husband were alive at that moment he would gladly kill him all over again. He gripped her hands.
“I love you Suzanne. I won’t ever stop, but I’m starting to get the feeling that you will never let yourself be loved.”
She yanked her hands out of his at the same moment his phone clanged with an emergency call. He cursed, grabbed it, and answered. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he heard the nurse’s words, and the distinct sound of his friend Sara, crying hysterically in the background.
Suzanne bit back tears, ugly words, rejection, anything she could. Grateful the phone had interrupted them before she really ruined everything in a knee-jerk, ill-considered retort. She watched as he walked away. Admired the strong line of his shoulders, his long, lean legs, his shaggy, boyish blond hair. She clenched her fists.
Get a grip Suzanne. Why won’t you let him…
She looked up when he yelled her name.
“Let’s go.” He grabbed the picnic basket and held out a hand to help her to her feet.
