by Rye Hart
Besides the night we got engaged.
I could remember that night like it was yesterday. The little black dress she had on and the pearls around her neck. The shock on her face when I got down on one knee in my suit.
I’d buried Cary in that dress and those pearls.
If someone was watching me, this could go down badly. If the wrong person saw me in a restaurant with her, they could spot me and automatically assume Cindy was leverage. I could destroy her world in a heartbeat and put her and her daughter on the run for their lives before they could blink their eyes.
I could bury them like I’d buried my wife and son. But it had been so long and no one had surfaced so far to take me out. Maybe they just assumed that I’d done it myself when I’d disappeared. Maybe they’d figured that if I hadn’t come after them by then, I wouldn’t. Still, I would never be able to stop looking over my shoulder. I’d been too highly trained not to.
Pushing those thoughts away, I readied myself for lunch, pulling on a decent enough pair of blue jeans and slipping into my good black shoes. I wore a simple black shirt to dress it down in case this was not what I was assuming it was and threw my light jacket over my shoulders.
Then, I slipped out to get Cindy’s car.
Even with the guilt swimming around in my chest, I found myself excited about lunch. I didn’t expect to be getting any sort of alone time with her, which meant I might get a glimpse of another side of her. Women always acted differently with their children around. At least, Cary had. I was ready to see this new side of Cindy that didn’t have to volley Lily’s energy and split her attention between cooking food and keeping her child from climbing the walls.
There was something about her that kept drawing me in, something I couldn’t deny. No matter how hard I pushed against it, it kept smacking me in the fucking face. Every time I tried to get her away from me, she came catapulting back even harder.
And that little girl of hers was growing on me quicker than I wanted to admit.
I stepped out of the cab and waved them off. I walked around back and picked up Cindy’s car, admiring how it glowed with a fresh coat of paint. I’d replaced the fender and repaired a lot of the rust damage. Some of the pipes were leaking, so that was an easy fix, and the busted taillight needed to be replaced altogether. I got her oil changed and checked her filters and topped off all her fluids. As far as the hunk of junk was concerned, it was two hundred times better than when I’d first brought it into the shop.
And all within a couple of days.
I hopped into the car and drove it back to her house. I pulled it up into her driveway and parked it, ready to watch her take it all in. I honked the horn, and she stepped out onto the porch, her jaw dropping at the sight of it.
“You painted it,” Cindy said.
“I did a lot more to it than that,” I said.
“How did you …?”
“The taillight’s fixed, and the fender was replaced. I got up underneath it and got rid of a lot of that rust damage. Some pipes needed fixing, and I did the regular maintenance on the car. You know, oil and fluids. Tire rotation. That sort of thing. Finally, I got it a fresh coat of paint and sealed it all in.”
“It doesn’t even look like the same car, Graham.”
“Good. Because that thing was a piece of shit.”
“I have no idea how I’m going to repay you for this,” she said.
“Pretty sure we got a lunch date happening in a few minutes. Consider it repaid,” I said.
“Trading car work for dates. That something you do often?”
“Only when the woman is as beautiful as you.”
It was out of my mouth before I even had time to think about it. Fuck. I looked down at Cindy, and I watched her eyes darken. Her cheeks flooded with a deep blush, and I wanted to reach out and touch it, to run my thumb along her heating skin and watch her shudder at my touch.
I escorted her to the truck, my hand in the small of her back. I wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from, but it felt very natural. I took her hand and helped her into my truck before I went around and got in, and it was weird to look over and see her there.
A small part of me still expected to look over and see Kason.
“Got a place in mind?” I asked
“I’ll tell you where to go,” Cindy said.
I didn’t know shit about this town. She could’ve told me we were going to some popular burger joint, and I still wouldn’t have known what she was talking about. The car ride was pretty silent, except for her giving directions. I didn’t try to force the conversation or pull her from whatever trance she was in.
But she was looking out the side window mighty hard.
We pulled into a place called Spork, and it looked like one of those millennial hipster places. But Cindy assured me the food was amazing. We walked in, took our seats, and placed our orders for what we wanted.
Then, Cindy finally broke the ice.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve done something like this.”
“Don’t worry. Not like you're looking at the master of it,” I said.
“And here I thought I was sitting with an expert. Now what are we supposed to do?”
“Beats me,” I said. “I haven’t done this in a while either.”
She nodded, looking around the restaurant at other couples there eating and talking.
“Well, it looks like maybe we should be talking, getting to know one another or something like that?”
“Is that what you want from this?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not really sure what I want from this.”
“In my experience, men and women always look for something in a date. For most men, it’s physical. We’re animals. It happens. For women, it’s a connection. Good conversation and the promise of something more.”
“Is that what you’re looking for? Sex?”
“We really went from zero to one hundred here, didn’t we?” I asked, shifting in my seat, a mixture of discomfort and anticipation roiling in my gut.
“Yeah, we really did,” she said with a giggle. “Feel free to not answer that.”
“No. That’s not what I’m looking for.”
“Then, what are you looking for?”
“Nothing, really. You're the one who asked for the date.”
The banter with her was easy, and that was surprising. The longer we talked, the more rhythmic it became. Her sense of humor was refreshing, and she didn’t take herself too seriously. It came so easily for me to talk to her and go back and forth without missing a beat.
It felt so good, and I hated that it did because had this been a terrible experience, it would’ve been easier to push her away.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Why are you so good with kids?” Cindy asked.
Our food was set in front of us, but I didn’t make a move to pick up my fork.
“I just don’t know many men without kids of their own who are so good with them is all,” she said.
“Because I wasn’t without kids once.”
Her eyes whipped up to me, dancing along my features.
“What?” she asked.
I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Kevin. Where he blurted out all sorts of shit about Cindy she would probably kill him for. I felt a kindred sort of spirit with her. She understood my pain, what with losing a spouse. And with how easy conversation seemed to be with her, it felt okay to broach this topic.
I sort of wanted to with her.
“I know people around here talk about me,” I said. “Say things like I have a family I abandoned and all that.”
“I never believed that,” Cindy said.
“I’m glad. But I did have a family once. A wife and a son.”
“What happened?”
“They were killed. Home invasion a couple years back.”
“Oh my gosh. Graham, I’m…”
> I picked up my fork and took a bite of my food. I wanted something to do to occupy my jaw other than blurting out shit about my life to this woman. Her eyes were locked on me, and I didn’t want to look at her. I hated that look of pity. Of sympathy. Of ‘Oh I’m so sorry’ and ‘What can I do?’
But I felt a warmth descend onto my hand, and I looked over to see Cindy holding it.
“Lily’s father, my, uh, my late husband--”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“He was killed in combat,” Cindy said.
“He was in the military?”
“Yes. It was his last deployment before getting out, and there was an ambush. He saved the lives of the guys in his Humvee, but gave his life in the process.”
“So, he was a hero.”
“Yeah. He was. He died a little over a year ago, and it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Burying him.”
“I know the feeling,” I said.
I lifted my eyes to look at hers, and I didn’t find anything I thought I would. There was no pity or sadness. No sympathy or regret. Instead, there was empathy, a person who understood. A person who reflected back to me the same pain I saw in my own eyes every time I looked in the mirror. Her hand was gripping my wrist, massaging me and trying to comfort me while she struggled with the same emotions, the same feelings and issues.
I turned my hand up and captured her fingers in mine. I sat there, staring at her as our food got cold. Our connection grew. The moment between us grew. It filled the space around us and encompassed the restaurant we were in until all the outside noises faded into the background. In all the anger I had waded through the past two years—in all of the sleepless nights and the tears I cried and the anger I fought with on a daily basis—I never thought I’d find someone who understood.
We ate our lunch in relative silence, but it was comfortable. I paid the tab and escorted her out, and I could’ve sworn I felt her lean into my hand. Her fingers laced with mine as I took her home, her pulse beating against my wrist as we sat staring out the windshield. We drove and took in what it felt like to be in common company.
We pulled into my driveway, and there was something inside of me that wasn’t ready to let her go. I looked over at her, and she smiled, but she made no move to leave. She didn’t release my hand or unbuckle her seatbelt or say goodbye.
She simply sat and smiled and waited.
“Do you wanna come in? Have a drink or something?” I asked.
“I’d really like that, yeah.”
I led her into the house, feeling her heat beating down on my back. She followed me in, and I shut the door behind her, all the while painfully aware of the outfit she was wearing. A tight pair of dark skinny jeans and a printed satin blouse. It flowed around her beautiful body and clung tightly to her neck but was sleeveless so I could gawk at how beautiful her arms were.
The pull was too strong. The need to hold her was too much. I felt myself moving toward her as my mind screamed “no.” Flashes of my CIA office and faces of the criminal group ran through my mind, trying to trip the emergency evacuation button I’d rattled around in my head. Cindy’s face got closer, and my hands found her waist. The calluses of my hands sank onto her body as her hands threaded around my neck. Fire alarms were raging in my head and visions of my boss telling me to abort because I’d been made were bouncing off the corners of my mind.
But our lips were connected, and our tongues were dancing. My arms were wrapping Cindy’s back, and her lips were swelling underneath the contact of mine. She tasted like lemonade and sesame sauce and all the things I had denied myself for years. She pressed her body into me as her hands raked through my hair.
Her warmth pushed all the thoughts and reactions out of my mind, and as I backed her into the kitchen counter, I could feel her panting, gasping, and rolling her hips as my lips traveled down her cheek.
I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. I wanted to feel her body against mine and graze her thighs with my beard. I wanted to fill her up and feel her clamp down around me. I wanted to know what she felt like underneath my fingertips.
I wanted to connect with the woman who understood a part of me I’d never expected to reveal.
And I wanted to give her the same in return.
CHAPTER 15
CINDY
My hips connected with his kitchen counter as the kissing intensified. His hands were all over me as I threaded my arms around his neck. I felt alive. On fire. Ignited with electricity and surging with pleasure. I couldn't help myself. Even though a part of me was wracked with a guilt that made me nauseous, I couldn't stop. His tongue traveled along the roof of my mouth, making my knees grow weak.
My legs gave out from underneath me as Graham’s arms tightened around my body.
I could feel his rock-hard cock pressed against me. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him. There was something about that notion that made me smile into his kiss as his hands traveled my curves. He cupped my ass and gripped my thighs, bouncing between letting me lead and taking what he wanted. He pinned me against his counter as my hands traveled down to his chest.
I could feel the swell of his strength underneath my fingertips.
His hands gripped my ass again, and I jumped against his body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my hands threading through his hair. My lips traveled down his neck as he carried me through his house and then closed a door behind us with his foot.
We were in his bedroom, and his hands were sliding up my shirt.
Piece by piece, we ripped our clothes off. He yanked my shirt over my head, and I fell to my knees and took his pants with me. He pulled me off the floor and tossed me onto his bed, his eyes filled with a predatory instinct.
I watched him remove his boxers, taking in the thick cock he had bouncing between his legs.
He crashed into me, our naked bodies taking in one another. I ran my hands up and down his back, caressing the chiseled muscles there. His arms were bulging with veins, and his legs were trimmed with sinewy strength. He was sin incarnate, and I couldn't get enough of him.
His lips traveled down my neck, nipping and sucking at my delicate skin. His hands were firm but gentle, holding me to his bed but not pinning me so I couldn't move. His lips wrapped around my nipples, lapping and sucking and making my thighs grow wet with want.
I spread my body open for him as he continued to travel down the length of my form.
My eyes locked with him as he dipped between my legs. That cheeky little grin spread across his face. My legs were shaking, waiting in anticipation for what was going to come next. His lips kissed my thighs and lapped up the juices already gathering on my skin.
Then, he parted my pussy folds and began to devour me.
His tongue was heavy and thick. He pressed on my clit as his beard tickled the sides of my pussy. He tossed my legs over his shoulders as my hands threaded through his tendrils, pulling him as close as I could get him. My hips rolled, and my toes curled. Moans of ecstasy and desire fell from my lips. I groaned at him. Growled at him. Allowed the animal inside of me to unleash. I could feel my pussy dripping onto his lips as he lapped me up, swallowing me down and humming at my taste.
I could feel it, that white-hot sensation in my abdomen. My heels propped up on his strong shoulders, and he raised up, bending me in half and rendering me motionless. His hands pinned my hips, and his thumbs caressed the backs of my thighs. I felt my world spinning and colliding, shattering into pieces as electricity shot through my brain. My mouth opened and my eyes screwed shut. My toes curled into his skin as his tongue pressed deep into my pussy.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to feel it.
“Yes, Graham. Yes. I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m com—”
The sound of his tongue licking my pussy was music to my ears. I shook against him, my back arching off the bed as he held me in place. My sounds of pleasure were choked off by the sheer wonder of it all, the
feeling of his beard and the warmth of his tongue and the soft command of his hands.
The way he folded my body to his every whim.
My legs fell to the bed, and his lips collided with mine. I licked my arousal off his skin, his throat swallowing my moans. He crawled up the bed like a tiger stalking its prey. His muscles twitched with every movement, pulsing for me against my skin.
His body dipped between my legs, his leaking cock poised at my entrance.
“Should we—?”
I opened my eyes and found his, half-hooded with lust but still taking the time to ask.
The entire town was so very wrong about him.
“I’ve been on the pill for a while,” I said. “But if it makes you feel more comfortable—”
He cut my sentiment off as he slid into me, his cock pressing against my fluttering walls. My mouth fell open, my legs trembling as my nails dug into his back. I panted with every inch my pussy swallowed down. The place he pressed against made my vision tunnel with pleasure. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn't speak. All I could do was look into the eyes of the man I had caved to.
A man who understood a part of me no one else did.
His hand moved underneath the small of my back, tilting my hips to him. He gave me time to adjust, time to breathe and find my balance. I clung to him, my face rising up to kiss his shoulder.
I could feel his hips twitching with a want to unleash.
I rolled up into him, and he didn’t have to be told twice. His hips reared back, and he slid slowly back into me. I moaned into his skin, my nails digging into his biceps as my head fell backward.
Then, the animal inside of him was released.
He thrust into me, his cock diving in and out of my wetness. My toes ran up the backs of his legs as we breathed one another’s air. Our foreheads were connected, and he was propped up on his forearms. I cupped his cheek with my hands, trying to feel as much of him as I could. Our kisses were lazy, and our thrusts were desperate. He was pounding against my hips as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the corners of his room.
