“When Bryce started preschool, I decided I was going to get a job. I needed something to do, an escape. When I told him, he got angry. He hit me—broke my nose and blacked both my eyes—and made it so I didn’t want to leave the house because I didn’t want anyone to see my face.” Her tears finally fall from her eyes. They glide down her cheeks and fall into her lap. “Once I healed and the bruises faded, he got me a job as a receptionist at his office. I should’ve been happy, but to me, it was just another way for him to keep me close, for him to keep an eye on me.” She shakes her head and wipes her eyes.
“I started that job when Bryce was three. Every week, I’d sneak a little money out of the account. Not a lot. Just enough to look like I needed lunch or gas or something. But I put it in a secret bank account. I was going to save enough money to leave. I saved for years. Then my father passed away. I didn’t tell him. When I got the call that I had money waiting for me, I gave them the number to my secret account—the one that Glenn didn’t know about. He didn’t know I had money, so he wasn’t watching me any closer than normal. I’d been making preparations behind his back for weeks. Finally, one morning when everything was in place, I pretended to be sick, so he went to the office without me. I didn’t take Bryce to preschool. Instead, we got in the van and drove away. We came here.”
I set down my glass of wine and I pick her up, placing her on my lap. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I whisper as I lean in to kiss her. I need to touch her right now, to make sure she knows that I’m here, that I would never hurt her.
She breaks the kiss and shakes her head. “I don’t want you to be sorry.”
I place my hands on either side of her face and level my eyes on hers. “If I ever see him, I’m going to kill him. He’ll never touch you again,” I say, pressing my mouth back to hers.
This time, she kisses me back. Every muscle in her body relaxes as her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer. Her tongue darts into my mouth and a quiet moan escapes. My hands fall to her hips, squeezing.
I kiss her long and deep, but slow and tantalizing. My body starts to tingle and come to life. When her hand starts to slip up my shirt, I pick her up against me and get to my knees, laying her back on the blanket. Her legs part for me, and my hips fit perfectly between them. Her legs rise, holding firm at my hips as she wiggles beneath me.
“I swear, I won’t let him hurt you ever again,” I whisper, unsure if I’m saying it for her or myself. “I’ll fucking kill him if he lays a finger on you.” I kiss down her jaw and to her neck. Her eyes are closed, lips parted as her breathing increases.
Her hands come between us, unfastening my jeans. I reach beneath her dress and push her panties to the side. Moments later, I’m sliding into her, filling her completely. When I rock my hips against her, hitting that perfect spot, she arches her back and calls out. She feels too perfect, like she was made just for me.
I’m a greedy man when I find something I want. I want her. All of her. I pull her dress down, exposing both of her perky breasts. Still thrusting into her, I suck one hardened peak into my mouth, flicking my tongue against it.
“Clay,” she breathes out my name. “Harder. Please, harder,” she begs.
I know that if I go any harder, I’m going to be coming with her, but right now, this is about what she needs. I want to show her that I’ll always give her anything I can. My hips double their pace, thrusting in and out, faster and harder. I roll my hips, teasing the spot that will have her screaming my name. Her muscles begin tightening around me, squeezing until I’m seeing stars. Just as she lets out her last whimper, my release washes over me hot and heavy. I empty myself into her frantically.
I rest my head against her collarbone, attempting to catch my breath. I can feel how hard her heart is pounding against her chest. My heart is racing right alongside hers.
“I promise this would’ve been better in my bed,” I laugh out as I begin to pry myself away from her.
She looks at me, eyes still burning with desire. “Then take me to bed, Clay.”
I tuck myself back into my jeans and hold out my hand. She takes it and I pull her to her feet. Leaving our mess behind to pick up later, I lead her into the house.
Fifteen
Autumn
My small hand is in his that’s double the size of mine. He holds it strong, like he plans on never letting go, as he leads me back to the house. So far, all we’ve had is fast, hard sex. The kind of sex that makes your toes curl, the kind that happens because you just can’t control yourself. This time, I want real sex. I want it raw and soft and slow. I know that Clay can handle the fast and dirty, but how is he at sweet, slow lovemaking? If it’s anything like what I’ve experienced already, I know I’m in for a treat.
When he pulls me inside the house, he spins us around so that my back is pressed against the back door. His hands find my hips. He picks me up against him, and I wrap a leg on either side of his hips. His rough, callused hands make their way up my thighs to my ass, scratching an itch I didn’t know I had. His tongue tangles with mine, savoring and teasing. His hands never stop their exploration of my body. With every inch they touch, the more I want him. My need for him only seems to grow. I thought I could have him a few times and move on. Now I know that isn’t true.
Clay is one of those guys you know you’ll never get enough of. He always leaves me wanting more, more of him, more of his smiles, laughs, and words. Even when I know I should be pulling away, something about him draws me back in. Telling him about my past makes me feel closer to him. He’s the only one who knows my secret. He’s the only one that understands. Finally, I’m not alone. I’ve been alone for so long that I don’t even know what love, understanding, and friendship feel like anymore. When I feel him lower the zipper on the back of my dress, I no longer have time to think about it.
He places me on my feet, and I allow the dress to fall to the floor. He takes a step back, his eyes raking over my body, appreciating me. He runs his hand over the scruff on his jaw, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His muscles are hard and flexing like he’s trying to hold himself back.
I reach out, my fingers finding the hem of his shirt. I pull it upward until it’s off completely. My eyes are locked on his. “Don’t hold yourself back, Clay. Give me all of you,” I whisper, “You have all of me.”
He quickly jerks me forward, his mouth meeting mine. His hands find my hips, and he picks me up and carries me to his room. For the longest time, any time a man would touch me, I would have a panic attack, but that doesn’t happen with Clay. Instead of wanting to avoid his touch, I find myself craving it.
He lays me down on the bed and instantly covers my body with his. His hands are already pushing my panties down my thighs as he kisses his way down my neck and chest. Once the panties are gone, his hands move up, reaching behind me and unclasping my bra. He pulls the material away and sits back on his knees, taking me in fully, like he’s worshiping me. His eyes start on mine, but they slowly descend, lingering a little longer on my breasts before moving onto my stomach. When he gets to the junction between my legs, he licks his lips seductively.
His fingertips touch my ankle and slowly and teasingly move up my leg. It tickles but not in a way that makes me laugh. It makes my skin burn. It causes every nerve ending to come alive. It makes me want to flip him over and take what I want.
His hand continues moving upward until his thumb is rubbing my clit. My eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sensation. Quickly, his thumb is replaced by his mouth, and my eyes pop open as my legs try to shut instinctively. But he stops them. Both of his hands move up to cup my ass as he softly pushes mu thighs apart with his shoulders, his tongue never stopping.
My eyes close once again as my lips part with my heavy breathing. He laps me, his tongue swirling around that bundle of nerves, leaving me seeing stars. My body is shaking as my release builds. I fist the sheets, holding on for what I know will be the ride of my life. Glenn never did this for me. Neither di
d every other boyfriend I’d had before him. We were so young that oral wasn’t even on our radar. This is my first time, and happiness swells in my chest when I realize that it’s with him.
My release washes over me fast and strong. It wracks my body with pleasure beyond anything I’ve ever known. My lungs freeze, my toes curl. My heart is the only thing still working, and it’s doubling its usual pace. I can’t do anything but hang on and let this feeling take me away.
After my cries have quieted, he moves back up my body, pressing kisses along my skin until his eyes are back on mine.
“I knew you’d taste like heaven,” he whispers. His mouth closes in on mine just as he thrusts himself into me deeply, making my back arch off the bed.
Clay’s arm is wrapped around me as I lay my head on his chest. Neither of us are talking. We’re both just enjoying the silence as we try to regain our strength. I’ve never felt more cared for, more cherished, more loved. Back in college, the guys I was with were your typical frat boys. They wanted sex to get off. Glenn was different at the time. He hadn’t been with anyone but me, so at first, things were rocky. Then they got better the more we did it. He tried to make sure I got what I needed, but after we got married, that stopped completely. Suddenly, everything was about him and how he could control me. But Clay, he takes his time with me. This isn’t about getting off for him. It’s about feeling the connection between us. He gets pleasure out of watching the pleasure he gives me. I’ve always felt like I was walking the wrong way down a one-way street, but then Clay found me. Clay took my hand, and it’s like the world opened up and I finally found my way. Finally, everything feels right—except I still have this Glenn problem to take care of.
“He found me,” I whisper into the shaded room.
“What?” he asks, confused by my sudden admission.
“He found me. I did everything I could. I left my cell at home and picked up a prepaid phone on the road. I’m using my separate bank account. I haven’t used any credit cards. But he has a friend on the police force back home. I think signing Bryce up for daycare pointed out our exact location.”
“How do you know? Has he been messing with you? Have you seen him?” I can hear the worry and concern in his voice. It’s deep and tight.
“I got a letter a while ago. It said something along the lines of, ‘I hope you’re enjoying Colorado.’ And it said that he was coming for Bryce. It was all wrinkled like it had been shoved under the door. But the other day, I came home and found a postcard on the table. It said, ‘Daddy’s home.’ It was on the table, Clay. There’s no way it could’ve gotten there if he’d just slid it under the door. Someone was in my room.”
He squeezes my shoulder protectively. “Don’t go back there. Stay here until the B&B is done. It won’t be much longer. Not with the pace the guys keep.”
I smile at his kindness and generosity. “I can’t do that, Clay. But thank you.”
He lets out a long breath. “I don’t like you staying there, Autumn.”
I feel my face warm from his words. “The B&B will be done soon enough. And you don’t have room here for me, my kid, and all our stuff. I appreciate the thought though.”
He kisses the top of my head. It feels intimate, especially now that we’re cuddling together, naked in bed after we just had sex. Before this, I could pretend that it was just another casual fling, but now? What are we now?
“Call me. It doesn’t matter what time of day or night it is. If you feel scared or lonely or anything, just call me. Okay?”
I nod, but I’m still too lost in thoughts of us to speak. Do guys do this? Overthink every little thing? Do they need a label on everything? I don’t feel like Clay is laying here having the same mental tug-of-war that I’m having. I already made myself clear: we can’t get serious…for more reasons than one. But of course, I already brought him into my mess. He knows about my past now and he’s vowing to protect me and Bryce. Knowing that he will be here for us makes my heart pound just a little bit harder, but it also makes a hole form in my stomach, a sinking hole that tells me that this is a mistake.
Clay and I lay around a little while longer before finally forcing ourselves away from one another. The sun is starting to fall from the sky by the time our picnic is cleaned up and we’re heading back to the farmhouse.
“Let’s go check out their progress,” Clay says when we pull up to the house.
I climb out of the passenger side seat and we walk in together. There’s a tarp hanging over the kitchen doorway, trapping dust and dirt so it can’t blow out into the entry way and living room, which are already finished. He pulls back the plastic curtain and walks through, holding it open for me.
My mouth drops open when I see that all the cabinets are hung and the tile is completely done.
Jerry walks into the room. “Oh, hey guys. What do you think?” he asks, looking only at me.
I smile. “I love it! How’s the bathroom coming along?”
“It’s done too. All we gotta do is wait for the grout to dry, clean everything up, and put on a fresh coat of paint.”
I jump up and down. “So you think I’ll be able to move in by the end of the week?” I ask, looking up at Clay.
He smiles and nods. “I think so.”
I squeal and jump into his arms. He catches me easily.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I say, feeling my body come to life from something as simple as being pressed against his.
He sets me on my feet, and his hands move up to cup my cheeks. “I’ll be installing a security system soon,” he says, moving his mouth to mine. For a moment, I completely forget all about Jerry standing next to us—until he clears his throat.
I pull away, and heat washes over me from embarrassment. Clay turns and gives him a look. “Jerry, you got some place to be?”
Jerry smiles. “Nah, not really.” He scratches his head.
Clay slowly turns in his direction and gives him a look that says, Beat it. Jerry shrugs and leaves us alone. I giggle quietly to myself and turn and walk around the island to fully check out the kitchen.
“You like it?” Clay asks.
I nod. “It’s beautiful. Your guys are quick.” I turn to face him, leaning against the island.
He reaches out and picks me up, setting me on the counter. “I’m serious about what I said earlier. Call me for anything.” Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his lips. Even though we’ve spent the day connected, I can’t think of anything but him taking me right here, on this island. I add it to my mental to-do list.
I leave the house a little before five and head into town to pick up Bryce. He’s as happy as can be. I load him up, climb behind the wheel, and head toward the dinner for our usual dinner. I should be paying more attention to the road than I am, but I can’t stop the thoughts of Clay, how we spent the day, how sweet and caring he is. A silver car is driving down the road in the opposite direction. When the car gets closer, I swear it’s Glenn behind the wheel. The man has dark hair, cut short and styled the way he always wears his. He’s wearing dark sunglasses, and his gold wedding band gleams against the setting sun as his hand rests on the top of the steering wheel.
My heart and breathing automatically pick up as I try catching another glimpse out of the rearview mirror. Panic sets in. Is he really here? Was that him? Or is my subconscious just playing a trick on me? I’ve been with Clay a lot lately, something I said I shouldn’t do. Is this just my mind trying to trick me into sticking to my word? I can tell by the license plate on the car that it was a rental. I wouldn’t expect him to drive his Chevy truck all the way here, not with its gas mileage. Maybe he flew in.
I stop at the diner so Bryce can eat, but also as a way of surrounding myself with people. Glenn isn’t the kind that will attack in broad daylight. He prefers to have no witnesses, no one to stop him from doing what he wants to do.
While Bryce plays with the little juke box on the ta
ble and the cars from his pocket, I dig my cell phone out of my purse. I want to call my old next-door neighbor, Judith, but instead, I text her so Bryce doesn’t hear the conversation.
I quickly type out: Hi, Mrs. Smith. This is Autumn. I was just wondering if you’ve seen Glenn around the house today.
Moments later, she sends back: Sorry I haven’t called in a while. I’ve been down with the flu. But now that you mention it, I did get woken up around three this morning by a slamming door. I peeked out the window and saw him leaving with a bag. He threw it into the back of his truck and left. It hasn’t been home since.
My heart pounds harder. Glenn isn’t up at three in the morning. The only time he ever got up that early was when he would travel for work. And I know the bag she’s talking about. It’s the one he would take any time he had an overnight trip. He never used it for anything else. Glenn is here. He was up early to catch his flight.
Thank you, I respond. I grab the waitress and ask her to pack the food to go. I no longer want to be out in the open. I want to be locked up safe. My foot doesn’t stop tapping until I have my hand on Bryce and our food as we leave the diner behind.
Sixteen
Clay
The guys have already left for the night, but I stuck around a little longer to put the finishing touches on the bathroom paint. I want Autumn and Bryce out of that motel. I want them in their own house, where they will feel safe. Hearing about her ex made my blood boil and now, hours later, it’s finally calmed to a simmer. What kind of man does that to a woman? How could you hit someone weaker than you, someone you’re supposed to love and take care of? I don’t care if I have to set up a tent in her front fucking yard, I will protect her.
The Slade Brothers: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection Page 50
