“What?” she snapped. Did he not want her anymore? Was he suddenly having second thoughts?
“Need to get a condom.”
That was all?
“Forget it.” It wasn’t as though he hadn’t touched every part of her already. Besides, between all his doctor tests, the birth control and her strict STD testing, it wasn’t as if they weren’t aware they were each clean.
“You sure?”
She cupped his face with one hand and grasped his hair with her other, tugging him toward her. “Yes. Sammi, I just want you.”
He froze, staring at her for a moment.
Autumn could read emotion there. She could see a tumult of feeling going on and, if she had to bet, he wasn’t completely comfortable with what was going on inside him. Inwardly she cheered. At least she wasn’t the only one who was an emotional wreck here. He wasn’t the playboy he thought he was. He was more. Better. Hers.
Sammi leaned into her, the turmoil in his gaze subsiding, at least for the moment. She met him halfway, twining her arms around him and grounding herself in his kiss, his touch, this thing building between them.
Sammi pushed her hand aside and guided his cock to her. She felt him against her folds, his fingers parting her again. Autumn tipped her head back and gripped the edge of the counter. She held her breath, waiting for that moment when they became one, except he didn’t move.
She peeked at him and found him staring at her, his gaze so intense it felt as if he were boring holes into her skull. The grip on her thighs tightened and he thrust. Her eyes fluttered open wide as her body stretched, yielding to him. They groaned in unison.
It just got better every time.
He thrust again, sliding deep into her channel and dropping his head forward until their noses almost touched. It felt different this time, the sensation of him in her, skin on skin.
His gaze dropped to their joined bodies as he withdrew. She closed her eyes, relishing the slow drag of flesh on flesh as he stroked in and out of her in even, measured thrusts.
The good part of kitchen sex was the versatility. The bad part of kitchen sex was the unconventional positions. It wasn’t as if she could do a lot with her feet dangling over the side, toes curling in on themselves and gripping the counter.
He grasped her thighs, pulling her almost off the counter and thrusting all at once, driving her breath out of her lungs and sending a sizzle of arousal through her veins.
“Oh yes,” she groaned.
Sammi lifted her as he moved and her foot swung back, hitting the cabinet. Duh—the new cabinets! Autumn wrapped her toes around the large, orb-like knobs and used that to leverage herself, moving in time with him.
He grinned at her and she smiled back. There was something really great about having a partner just as horny and sexually active as she was.
He eased his grip, letting her move as she wanted, adjusting the angle so he rubbed just the right spot with each thrust. She let her head drop back, surrendering herself to the sensations he created within her, the warming in her abdomen, the tremors shaking her limbs. But it went deeper than that, all the way to her heart. She felt him inside her at her very core. It was scary and wonderful all at once.
She gasped for breath and peered through her lashes at him. Sammi had leaned forward, his gaze on her breasts as they bobbed in time to her motions. She arched her back and he glanced at her face, his features sharper, lust-ridden. His cheeks were sunk in, his lips pressed into a tight line and his pupils were dilated.
His gaze narrowed, trained on her face.
Her breath hitched.
She loved him. He might not love her as she did him, but he was not without feelings for her. She’d have to be okay with that. He saw her for who she was and still, he desired her.
Her inner muscles clamping down around him, she threw her head back and screamed. Sammi groaned into her neck, his fingers digging into her rib cage almost painfully.
They stayed like that, wrapped around each other, joined body and soul for a few blissful moments. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but they grinned and eased apart. Sammi had a dishtowel in hand and swiped it over her then him, giving them both a quick cleanup.
She slid off the counter and he steadied her.
“Warm up something to eat.” He kissed her brow and patted her ass.
Autumn rescued her frozen dinner from the ledge of the island and popped it in the microwave. She turned around to find Sammi spraying the marble countertop down with a disinfectant.
To think, a few hours ago her crabby mother-in-law had stood there drinking horrible tea.
If she only knew what had just happened on that island.
* * * * *
Autumn smoothed the knit fabric over her thighs as Sammi pulled the Escalade into a tiny parking lot. She’d been dreading this moment since last night. Yet another meeting with her mother-in-law.
The building next to the lot was mocha brick with black awnings and brass light fixtures. Even the parking lot had a very old-world feel to it with the wrought iron fence and frosted globe streetlights.
“It’s going to go better than last time.” Sammi turned the car off and smiled at her, but there was nothing reassuring about it.
“Yeah.” She mustered a smile in return, but felt the lie deep in her bones. People like his mother didn’t change their opinions overnight.
At least this time Autumn felt more like herself.
She’d chosen a bright-blue knit dress because it was one of her favorites. The stripes banding the skirt were cheerful, and lord only knew she’d need all the help she could get.
They walked into the little restaurant hand in hand. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something had changed between them in these last few days. She didn’t have a name for it, couldn’t identify what had started it, but she could feel it.
“Hello, Mr. Zimmerman,” a host said as they entered, his hands clasped in front of his pristine white apron.
“Hello,” instead of glancing around, Sammi studied the man, “Miguel.”
Miguel’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Your party is waiting in the private dining room.”
“Thanks. We can find it.”
Autumn smiled to herself as Sammi led them through the dining area. It was small, quaint even, with black-and-white-tiled floors, wooden circular tables with matching chairs that seated only four.
Sammi opened an unmarked door and stopped in his tracks, blocking the way. Well, that was weird. Autumn peered over his shoulder and her blood went cold. She shoved him forward and the door swung shut behind them.
“Mother—” Sammi started.
“What are you doing out of rehab?” Autumn marched to the unexpected fourth member of their party.
Autumn’s mother. Cathy.
When Autumn was growing up, Cathy had played the role of mother little enough it had always been hard to call her Mom.
And she was supposed to be in rehab.
“Hi, Autumn.” Cathy patted the chair next to her, her gaze never resting for long on one thing or person. “Sit down. They’re going to bring us bread soon. Why don’t you have a bigger purse? We could have taken more home. I guess that one will have to do.”
Autumn cringed. While most people took a few leftovers home, Cathy took it to the extreme, sometimes even gathering plates from nearby tables and packing up half-eaten meals. Autumn shoved the shameful memories to the back of her mind. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She didn’t have to live her life as her mother had.
Cathy had had a shower recently, evident by the frizzy, unruly nature of her hair. She fidgeted with the menu, her fingers picking at the corners as she tipped her head back and smiled. Or tried to. The muscles in her face jumped and shifted. Her eyes couldn’t stay on Autumn’s face but kept sliding off, distracted by something else.
Autumn gripped the back of the empty chair and shifted her glare from Cathy to Sammi’s mother.
The snake in a dress.
&nbs
p; Mrs. Tamara Zimmerman sat with her hands politely folded on the tabletop, a serene expression on her face. It wasn’t that dissimilar from the vacant stare Autumn saw from some of Kellie’s grandmother’s nursing home friends.
“Hello, Son. Won’t you have a seat?” Tamara gestured to the chair beside her.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Sammi sat in the chair next to Tamara, his expression tight.
“Cathy and I were just getting better acquainted.”
“My mother is supposed to be in rehab. Why is she here?” Autumn wanted to throw the silverware at the woman. She wanted to scream her frustration.
“I don’t like rehab. Don’t want to go back there. Won’t.” Cathy crossed her arms over her chest. Great. She wasn’t wearing a bra either.
“Your mother made it very clear she wanted to go home. I merely offered her dinner and a ride home.” Tamara finally met Autumn’s gaze.
What Autumn saw there made her feel dirty. Whatever was in that woman’s soul wasn’t good.
“Don’t want to go back.” Cathy shook her head and chanted the same line several times.
“Mrs. Zimmerman, maybe you don’t understand, and I wouldn’t expect you to because you’ve probably never dealt with an addict, but my mother is in rehab for a reason.” As problematic as Cathy had been, she was still Autumn’s mother and if Autumn could stop Cathy from dying with a needle in her veins, she would.
Tamara scowled and pointed at the last empty chair. “And you need to learn to respect your elders, young woman. Sit. Down.”
Sammi leaned toward his mother and placed his hand on her arm. “Mom, Autumn’s mother is sick. She needs to go back.”
“I’d rather not sit down with you.” Autumn wanted to deck the old lady in her smug face. What did she think? That bringing her mother out of rehab would make Autumn run away in shame? Her mother’s choices were her own. Not Autumn’s.
“I think you’d like to be here to explain yourself.” Tamara slid her menu aside. Under it was a worn manila folder with stickers, tabs in various colors and notes scrawled on the cover. It was thick with papers, forms, reports, some of which Autumn had made.
The pounding in her head was deafening.
Autumn’s mouth worked soundlessly.
“Mom, what is this? What are you doing? This isn’t okay.” Sammi reached in front of his mother and fanned the pages with his thumb. He didn’t get it. Not yet.
“That’s supposed to be sealed,” Autumn blurted. Her breath was coming too fast, her heart hammered against her chest.
“I hired a private detective who was able to get his hands on this.” Tamara flipped it open.
Autumn didn’t know who she’d paid or how much, but it had to have been a lot. Should have been impossible. Least that’s what the detective had told her when they closed the case.
“What is it?” Sammi leaned over Tamara’s shoulder. Autumn wanted to grab him, shove him out the door, but she couldn’t move.
“I’m not sure what you thought you knew about your wife, Son, but at one point she was a stripper.” Tamara laid another small stack of papers on the table.
“Paid good money too. Can’t believe she quit,” Cathy muttered, staring daggers at Autumn.
“She was arrested on suspicion of prostitution.” The smallest stack, because it was the one untruth, the one thing she hadn’t actually done. She’d just been standing on a corner eating ice cream and said the wrong thing to an undercover cop.
“Prostitute?” Cathy’s nose wrinkled up and she stared at the paper, no doubt having no memory of it since she’d been missing for a month at the time, high as a kite in Oklahoma.
“And she was tied up in some drug scheme where she turned informant on her boss.” The biggest stack of papers and a huge chunk of two years.
“I remember that. The money stopped.” Cathy’s gaze returned to Autumn, accusatory because the cash that she’d stolen from Autumn to buy more drugs had dried up.
There were more papers, more reports on her, but Autumn knew what they were. Her juvie record.
“Now what do you think of your bride, Son?” Tamara sneered.
The silence was deafening. All Autumn could hear was the blood rushing past her ears. She flicked her gaze from the papers to Sammi’s face. His features were twisted, disgust, horror, she’d seen them all before on other people who hadn’t understood. Who’d read a piece of paper about her without the full story.
No more.
Not again.
She’d put that life behind her.
There wasn’t anything Sammi, his mother or anyone could do to make her into that person again. She was different now, and Autumn liked who she’d become.
“You believe all that, don’t you?” Autumn asked Sammi.
“It’s right here in your file.” Tamara gestured to the folder still in her lap.
“You, shut up.” Autumn pointed a finger at Tamara. She was done with this vile creature. “I’m not speaking to you. Sammi, what do you believe?”
“I-I don’t know what to think.” He studied the papers and spread his hands. “You never told me any of this. Why?” His tone rose, growing angry.
She hadn’t deceived him; she just didn’t talk about that part of her life. To anyone.
Sammi’s gaze landed back on her and she could have thrown up. “I thought you were better than this.”
The words were worse than a slap to the face.
He wanted the truth.
Well, fine, she’d give it to him.
“You want to know why?” Autumn spread her hands.
“Yes.” Sammi rose to his feet, getting more angry.
“Fine. When I was sixteen the neighbors stopped taking pity on me and feeding me when my mother disappeared for weeks, months at a time. I wasn’t a cute little kid anymore. I had tits, an ass and all their husbands noticed me. This guy my mom had bought drugs from showed up on our doorstep while she was gone for a week or whatever. I hadn’t eaten in a few days. He wanted to collect on some money she owed him, but he found me instead.
“He fed me burgers, got the utilities turned back on and told me I could earn money to feed myself. You want to know how? Dancing on a pole. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I was sixteen, alone and someone told me if I pranced around on a stage in my underwear he’d make sure I had money to eat and a place to sleep. So I did it.
“I was never a prostitute. If she’d been honest and read that fucking piece of paper to you, you’d know that. Instead she’s laying out the worst parts of my life to make me look bad. I’m not a saint. You knew that when you asked me to marry you that I wasn’t perfect, you just chose to believe what you wanted about my history.
“You want to know the rest of the story? The cops that arrested me for prostitution are the ones who changed my life. Sure they threw me in juvie, but juvie saved my life. Yeah, I informed on my boss, and I’d do it again. He was a piece of shit who deserved to rot in hell for the rest of his life.
“I was a child making grown-up decisions. If you want to hold that against me,” she spread her arms, “please. Blame me for all of it, because I did it, and I’m not going to fucking apologize to you or anyone else for the choices I made.”
“I’m hungry. When are they bringing the bread?” Cathy glanced around nervously, oblivious to the drama playing out in front of her.
“Autumn—” Sammi rose from his chair.
“No. Fuck you and your self-righteous ass.” Autumn grabbed Cathy by her arm and pulled her to her feet.
“Where are you going?” Sammi didn’t make a move to stop them.
“Away from you,” Autumn said over her shoulder.
“They were going to bring us bread,” Cathy whined, shuffling her feet.
“I’ll get you a cheeseburger and french fries.” Autumn hauled Cathy through the restaurant, ignoring the stares.
“I like fries.”
Autumn dug her phone out of her pocket as they hit the sidewalk and began walking aw
ay from the restaurant. Who could she call? Mary and Kellie were out and they hated her mother on principle. She wouldn’t get Pandora or Carly wrapped up in her family drama, plus she didn’t know where she stood with Sammi. She’d never thought to see that kind of rejection from him.
Autumn had thought he was different.
“Why are you crying? I thought we were going to get cheeseburgers.” Cathy touched her cheek. The drugs had fried her brain a long time ago, leaving her on the level of a child. In some weird twist of fate, Cathy had never been capable of being a parent. She’d always been the one who needed to be cared for.
“I’m not crying, Mom. Something’s just in my eye. Keep walking, okay?” Autumn glanced over her shoulder, but there was no Sammi coming after her to beg her to stay. And why would he?
Autumn dialed her phone on autopilot and prayed for an answer.
Chapter Sixteen
Shaft Piercings—These include foreskin, frenum, lorum and hafada piercings.
Sammi pushed the glass door open and stepped into the cool interior of the So Inked tattoo shop. His gaze went past the girl at the front desk and straight to Autumn’s empty station.
Kellie turned from where she was wiping her padded table down, brows raised. “Hi.”
“Hey, is Autumn here?” he asked.
Another girl, Pandora, paused the tattoo she was doing to glance between Kellie and him.
“Why don’t we go into the back and talk.” Kellie stripped off her gloves and led him into the empty office. She wheeled around to face him, hands on her hips. “She was supposed to be in today. What happened?”
Sammi scrubbed his hand across his face. How did he explain it? Did Kellie even know about Autumn’s past? He’d stayed up all night reading the file and with each document, every report and account of her life unfolding he’d gotten the full picture of just what kind of nightmare she’d lived. Things he’d read happening to her he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.
“Sammi, is Autumn in trouble?” Kellie spoke slowly, enunciating her words slowly.
“No. Some stuff happened and she left last night. I haven’t seen her, but she’s been by the house. Her things are gone.” It would be easier if he could just tell Kellie what had happened, but now that he knew it all, he couldn’t help but feel protective of Autumn. Even more than before.
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