He looked like a man finding truth. As though he was trying to cleanse himself. Breaking free of the invisible chains that had been holding him to the earth. If wings sprouted from his back and lifted him into the air, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
When he finally stopped, his shoulders were hunched as he heaved in ragged breaths. Turning back to me, he dropped to the ground where I still knelt, pulling me into his lap and burying his head in my chest. I held him tight to me.
“It’s not fair that you lost them both,” I said.
“It’s not fair. It’s bullshit. He was everything to me. After my mom died, it was just me and him. And Skip,” he said with a sad laugh.
“Tell me about him,” I said.
“He had such a presence. Everybody loved him.”
“Sounds familiar,” I teased and I felt him smile against my chest.
“He was everything I wanted to be.”
“He sounds amazing.” I ran my fingers through Sanders’ hair.
“He was. Fuck.” He nuzzled deeper into me with a shuddering sigh.
“I know,” I said.
He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me closer. I had to wrap my legs around his waist to let him get as close as he needed.
He gasped as though he couldn’t fight back the pain. “To go out like that …” His voice broke off again.
“He’s still the same man he always was. How you and Skip remember him. That’s who he is.”
He nodded against me.
“Sometimes I think …”
“What?” I prompted.
“I sometimes think that it would be better to go off in some tragic accident than how he went. Or from suffering from cancer like my mom went.”
I held still. I had wondered what caused his reckless behavior. I wondered how a man so confident and put together would go and do these things so clearly set on hurting himself. It made sense now. My poor, sweet man.
“Fuck. You’re probably thinking how awful I am,” he said when I didn’t respond right away.
“I was thinking about how amazing you are.” I grabbed his face and pulled it up until he could see how seriousness I was. I held his gaze and let the words flow out of me. “I was thinking how you’ve dealt with so much sadness, so much tragedy and you still treat everyone you meet like they’re special. You make people feel wonderful just by giving them eye contact. I was thinking that your dad must have been the most amazing father to have raised a son who is as wonderful as you are.”
His mouth crushed against mine. There was no hesitation. His tongue explored my mouth which opened as soon as he touched me. We kissed with the abandon we felt that first night in Denver. Every ounce of angst and pain were transformed in a minute to pure burning lust.
He pulled back, still holding my face. His eyes shifted back and forth between mine, full of something I’d never seen. “Roxy, I—”
Just then the sky opened with a crack of thunder and lightning so close it made my hair rise.
I yelled as the first drops of rain landed on our heads. Within moments the rain was pouring down in buckets.
“Oh, come on!” Sanders yelled over the crashing rain and another clap of thunder. Water was already collecting around him. His arms were spread out and he pretended to backstroke.
Water poured over me, making me shiver. “Let’s go. This is dangerous!”
“The rain out here hates me,” he yelled. He swung out his arms and legs like making a snow angel, splashing water in small waves over my ankles.
“Sanders!”
I watched him and realized he was laughing. It was like the rain was cleansing him. This man who had locked away so much was being reborn. He was beautiful and brave and he had my heart completely.
Chapter 22
Sanders
Roxy tugged at my hands, slipping as she tried to grip them. “Get up,” she shouted over the rain.
I groaned and rolled to standing, arms spread out, face toward the sky. The rain washed over me. I closed my eyes and felt every drop. Heard the sound of it slapping the ground around me. Smelled the dirt growing wet. I was alive.
Thunder cracked and I ducked. I intended to stay that way for a while.
“Come on!” Roxy yelled.
I let her pull me in a run back to her car. I didn’t mind the rain. Wait, scratch that, I was starting to think Green Valley’s weather was the ultimate cockblock. But the rain had cleansed me. I felt changed. I felt whole and more like myself than I had in years.
I never intended to share any of that with Roxy. But she pulled it from me. I was in awe of her for knowing exactly what I needed. Could it be possible that I could feel this way and it didn’t make me a terrible person? Out loud, it sounded so obvious and ridiculous. But when it’s only a dark thought in your head for so many years, it’s hard to trust yourself. I thought I had to be something more than I was. But maybe I could just feel what I feel and it didn’t make me a bad person.
She opened the back door of her little car and gestured me in. She dove in after me and closed it behind her.
I smiled at her, water dripped off her nose and had plastered down her hair. Under my flimsy coat, her thin T-shirt was soaked through, so her hard nipples were visible through the material. But it was her face that held my attention. She was smiling at me like I was something special.
“Hang on,” she said, reaching over me to grab the bag on the floor by my feet. “I have some extra clothes in here in case I go to Stripped—”
“Go where now?”
“—and I think there’s a towel ... here it is.” She handed me one end of a large purple towel. It was fluffy and soft, and when I buried my face in it, it smelled as good as she did. I couldn’t wait to spend a weekend between the sheets of her bed, knowing that they’d smell just like this.
“What sort of fabric softener is this?” I mumbled as I wiped my face.
“What?” she asked with a laugh, lowering the towel from my face. “You mumble a lot.”
“I do no such thing.”
Slightly dryer, we sat still, taking each other in. We had changed together. We had crossed a river and there was no going back. The bridge was flooded. She was where I needed to be.
She shivered. “Hang on. Again.” She leaned forward to the front seat. Her wet jean shorts gave me a spectacular view of her thighs dripping with water and covered in goose bumps.
The car rumbled on and a blast of heat moved through the small space. An acoustic guitar strummed as a rich, deep voice sang quietly of orange skies and love. It was loud enough to be heard over the rain but soft enough to change the atmosphere inside the car from playful to romantic in an instant.
As she sat back, I grabbed her hips and pulled her onto my lap. She didn’t shrink back. She didn’t even blink. Her gaze went hazy as she studied me. She pushed her fingers through my hair and off my face. Her tongue slowly wet her lips.
I wrapped my fingers around her neck and into her wet hair, lowering her mouth to mine. She opened to me and her tongue slid in my mouth. I loved her tenacity. It might be one of my favorite things about her. I squeezed my eyes closed as relief washed over me. I would take whatever she would give me but I wanted it all.
We luxuriated in the taste of each other, taking turns to nip and suck and memorize. She shuddered in my arms. I ran my hand down an arm covered in goose bumps.
“You’re wet,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow. “Presumptuous.”
“Take off your shirt,” I demanded.
Her smile faded into a sultry pout. She sucked on a lip and kept her gaze locked on mine as she crossed her arms to pull the hem of her shirt up and off her head. It felt like the biggest test of will.
Will you hold my gaze when what you really want to see is inches below?
No sweat, I replied.
You just looked.
Shit.
I lifted a hand to fix her fringe as she always seemed very concerned it was in the right p
lace. She smiled and nestled into my hand. My heart hammered in my chest. I held her against me. Her skin was damp and cool. I wrapped the towel around her, trapping the heat in until the car warmed and her shivering subsided. She was as content to luxuriate in this gift as I was. I kissed the top of her head and traced the art on her exposed shoulder with my hand.
“What’s the story with this one?” I whispered. “You told me that you would show them all. If ever there was a time …”
She hid her face into my chest.
“Are you ashamed of them?” I asked.
She pulled back and gave me a look of defiance. “No. I’m not.”
I followed the line from her shoulder, down her arm, past her exposed, perfect breast and to her rib cage. I preened watching the skin prickle and hearing her soft sigh.
“I think they’re beautiful. I love that they’re a part of you. Everything about you is beautiful.”
“You can’t say stuff like that,” she whispered, arching her back as I teased her. I grasped her lightly, gentle teasing as I weighed her breast and ran a thumb over the pebbled nipple.
“Why?” I asked before lowering to flick her with my tongue.
“Because when you talk like that, I forget that I can’t be falling in love with you.”
Roxy
Sanders held me close in the small space of my car. I was falling for him. But I wouldn’t worry about that now. I would only be here now.
“Roxy,” he whispered and nuzzled my chest. He cupped my breast and sucked on me, sending fire through me. I threw my head back and luxuriated in this moment. No worrying about the future. Take his advice and just breathe. Feel him. Feel this moment and stop worrying so damn much.
“I’m not sure why you would ever hide these. They’re beautiful.”
“I want to say thank you but I didn’t do them.”
“Your breasts? You kind of did.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “I thought you meant my tattoos.”
He winked. “I did. But in this case, it’s the medium that makes the art.” He licked a flower stem that climbed up my rib cage.
My pulse hammered at my throat. To be completely exposed. To have him see every inch. I was equal parts terrified and aroused. Could he feel that?
“I don’t know. I just associate them with a totally different life.”
His hand went to my chest. He had to feel how my heart pounded against his palm. He had to. “This person,” he said. “Dressed up. Dressed down. Young … old.” He swallowed. My blush grew. “Nothing else matters but this. Who you are. It’s you I—”
I kissed him. I wanted to hear the words but we weren’t ready. It was too soon.
We finally stopped to breathe. Panting in the soft music.
“This one?” he asked.
His finger gently touched the edge of a tattoo that started at my throat just above my collarbone. Most shirts covered it. But totally exposed like this, he saw it all.
“That was a long session. Five hours. I barely made it.”
“Jesus. Your pain threshold is insane.”
He had no idea. “It only really smarts at the end. Most of the time I can play on my phone through them. One time I started falling asleep. I find the sounds soothing.”
“Insane.” He leaned closer looking over every detail. A soft puff of his breath tickled the hair at my neck.
His hands moved all over my body. When he reached the ones on my hips, he tugged my shorts down.
“They’re beautiful. All of them.”
“It’s no butterfly tattoo,” I teased.
I was sprawled out on the seat, completely naked in front of him.
“You’re the most wonderful thing I have ever seen.”
I felt so vulnerable lying there in front of him. He was completely dressed and I was in a position I once promised myself I would never be in, and I was okay. I was more than okay. I was terribly aroused and happy.
And then it got worse. Better?
He began to slowly explore my entire body. His face following his finger, hot breaths caressing all over my skin. Every touch was agony and ecstasy. When I was near the brink of orgasm just by his touch alone, when he lay on top of me. Our bodies folded to fit in the car. The scratch of his clothes against my exposed flesh was almost too much. I felt wicked and sexy. I loved every second of it.
He swallowed with effort. “I love this.”
“Me too,” I said.
I was so lost in the moment I couldn’t stop him if I tried. His fingers explored me more. Goose bumps rose in his wake. He lowered his head and blew on my nipple.
It pulled tight, almost painful, with the desire for more contact.
I looked down to find him studying my body’s reaction to his touch. I let out a long breath and looked up to the roof. I would let myself have this.
“So sexy.” He moved to my hip to examine another flower that wrapped around my waist. “So responsive.”
He kissed lower and lower. Neck to collarbone to breast. Then rib cage and belly. He reached the point where my hips arched off the seat, closer to his mouth. His mouth was on me in that instant. Licking, sucking, coaxing toward a peak I was desperate to reach.
He paused to kiss my inner thighs and the sensitive skin all around. Delaying the inevitable climax I was so close to.
“I’m crazy about you, Roxy. I’m crazy about every single inch of you. I’m dying to explore it all. Every glimpse feels like a gift. I’m devoted to you. I’m hopeless. You’ve made me this way.”
“Sanders.”
He lowered again and my hands gripped his head as he worked. Ever the gentleman. Licking and sucking as a finger slid in and curved just enough to have me arching up again.
My hands gripped tighter, he groaned a pleased sound and worked with more intention. I felt sexy and in control even though I was the naked one writhing against the mouth of this man. I couldn’t sit still as he brought me closer and closer to the edge. My body tried to crawl back, the sensations were too much. He matched me inch for inch until he was kneeling between the seats.
As the orgasm took over, my arms flung out, and I rode the wave grinding on his face as he slowed and eventually withdrew.
Sanders sat up, licked his lips, and grinned at me. It was the cockiest of all his cocky grins. “Good?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes before grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.
“Sanders, let’s go back to my place,” I said, holding his gaze.
His smile waned a little. “We don’t have to. This was enough for me—”
“Sanders, I don’t want to wait anymore. We’ve wasted enough time. Take me home.”
He swallowed. “Okay.”
I grabbed the extra shirt and workout pants from the gym bag and slid into them, sans underwear. As I climbed into the front seat, his hand smoothed over my bottom. A second later I felt a gentle bite on the meatiest part.
I squealed and fell forward.
“Sorry. I could only take so much,” he said.
“Feel better?” I called over my shoulder.
“A little.”
When he’d climbed to the front seat, I asked, “Ready?”
He swallowed and nodded. “You have no idea.”
Chapter 23
Sanders
Roxy drove us back to her apartment in what might be the longest car ride in the history of humankind. I wanted her. I was so tense it felt palpable in the air. I didn’t want to be a regret to her. I didn’t want her to hate me later. I wanted … everything from her.
Then her hand crossed over the shifter to reach for mine. I grabbed it immediately and squeezed, rubbing my thumb over the back of hers.
“Sanders?” she asked as she put the car into park. “Is there something on your mind?”
“A thousand things,” I answered honestly.
I wasn’t the one to overthink. I was the one to jump in and run and run until I couldn’t catch my breath. I didn’t want t
o be like that anymore. I wouldn’t screw this up.
“Do you want to come up still?” she asked.
“More than anything,” I said. She turned to face me. “I just don’t want to be a regret. I would rather have only a taste of you and nothing more for the rest of my life than have you look at me with regret.”
“I want this. I trust you,” she said simply. “And finally I trust myself to know what I want.”
I leaned forward and kissed her deeply, anchoring her to me with a hand behind her head, so afraid to let go.
When we pulled apart a few minutes later, she blinked up at me with heavy eyes.
“Let’s go up,” I said.
She grinned at my demand, heat flaring behind her dark eyes. She wanted this. I had always wanted this. Now we were on the same page. I had been given a chance to show her all that I felt for her and I wasn’t going to waste it.
It took a lifetime to climb the stairs to her place. It took a millennium for her to get the door open. The moment the door closed and dead bolted, she was on me. I smiled against her mouth.
“Hello,” I mumbled against her in between breaths.
“Hi,” she said.
“What do you need, Roxy?” I asked.
I wanted to make her happier than I’d ever made anyone. I was dying to be inside her. My body shook with the barely restrained desire coursing through my blood.
“Just you,” she said.
She took me by the hand and led me down a short hall. The walls were probably covered with pictures. There were probably rooms with furniture. I didn’t give a shit about any of it. I only saw Roxy as she glanced at me over her shoulder and led me to her bedroom.
I was the most important man in the world. I had to be, to deserve her. I wanted her to feel as cherished as she deserved, as perfect as she was in my eyes. No, not perfect, fully human and multifaceted and strong and beautiful. Better than perfection in her reality.
The One That I Want (Scorned Women Society Book 3) Page 20
