by Dee Tenorio
This morning? “You mean, after I left?” At his curt nod, Krista shook her head. “That’s not love. That’s a normal response to rejection.”
Disappointment tinged his expression. “For someone so concerned about feelings, you don’t seem very worried about mine.”
Maybe. She didn’t want to think that was true, but she had to make him understand. “I don’t mean to hurt you. You’re right, I do care about you.” Her voice broke. Care seemed such a pale word for her feelings. From the first moment they met, she’d felt a connection to him. An understanding that ran deeper than words. But after a while, she’d wanted the words anyway…and he couldn’t give them to her.
“And I know you care about me, too. Or you wouldn’t respond sexually either,” she added, a mocking smile twisting her mouth. He probably wouldn’t like that line of reasoning any more than she had, now that the shoe was on the other foot. “I’ve just come to the conclusion that maybe choosing your life partner logically, for mutual benefits, the way we did, isn’t the best way to go about it.”
“It worked for centuries before us,” he interjected tightly.
“Then it’s not the best way for me.” She forced her voice to be firm. “I want a man who loves me. Who’s dedicated to me, no matter what happens or how hard our lives get.”
“And you don’t think that’s me? You think I’d leave you because our lives got difficult?” He said the word as if it were laughable. As if she had no idea what difficult really meant.
The implication hurt but she refused to let it temper her response—it would only give him a foothold for argument later. “I think not being emotionally tied to a person can make a difficult situation harder. I think I need someone who will hold me when I’m emotional. Not someone who’ll push me away because my emotions are messy.”
He frowned, probably beginning to understand.
Krista reached over and took his hand in hers. “You’re a good man, David. The best man I know. I’m proud that this baby is yours. Ours.” She looked down at the belly that had yet to curve outward. Nine weeks along and still, no changes she could see. Only a sensitivity to her skin and an unhappy propensity for losing her lunch. The baby was apparently as polite a visitor as its father. “I just want more than you can give.”
“What if I could?”
She blinked, tilting her head, as it was definitely her turn to frown. “If you could what?”
“Give you what you need. Be what you want.”
“David, I’m not asking you to change—”
“No, you’re just asking me to leave.”
And take my heart with you. “Yes.”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
Sighing didn’t do much to make her feel better. She tried to let go of his hand, but he held tight. “If this is about staying close to the baby, I promise, you’ll have every opportunity to be part of its life.”
“It is and it isn’t. I want to be a father, yes. I always wanted that.” He’d been the first one to mention children when they’d begun talking about marriage. “But I want you, Krista. More than anything else, I want you.”
Her breath shuttered and her heart absolutely stopped. He looked so earnest, so true. All the way down to her soul, she wanted to believe him. But the same heart that stopped for him feared how much he could hurt her. So she asked the one question she knew he’d never be able to answer. “Why?”
His mouth firmed, quirking at the corners as he tried to find the words she wanted to hear. She knew that habit well. He never understood how much she wanted to know what he needed to say.
Rather than watch him struggle, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. A goodbye kiss. He must have realized, because he held on. Held so tight she knew his hand would leave a mark on her wrist, if only for a few moments. Nothing like the indelible mark he’d made on her soul.
She pulled away and stood, lifting her hands out of his hold. This time, his frown could have been grooved into his face for years.
“You should go home. Get some rest. There’ll be a lot of work for you on Monday.”
“I don’t care.”
“Oh yes you do.” More than anything.
“No, Krista. I don’t. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”
“David—”
“I’m not leaving. I’m staying here until you believe me.” Implacable. His voice brooked no argument. But that was the beauty of their relationship. They never had to argue.
She walked back inside and when she left this time, she didn’t look back.
{
Taylor groaned in her bed, and not because anything good was going on. Opening one eye, she focused slowly on the alarm clock phone next to her bed. Two a.m. Two. She hadn’t even been asleep for an hour.
“Make it stop,” Frankie complained from under the pillow next to her.
She snatched the cordless receiver off the base and hit the talk button. “This had better be good.”
“She doesn’t believe me.” Blunt. No trace of apology. Could only be one guy.
“This couldn’t wait until breakfast, Mr. Ellison?”
“No, I need you to fax a document for me. I should have called earlier, but I needed the time to think. I haven’t even found anywhere to sleep yet.”
“You’re in Tahiti,” Taylor reminded him, squeezing her eye shut again. “Find an all-night bar. You’ll be fine.”
“You don’t understand. I need that contract. For Krista. She doesn’t believe I have feelings for her. Any. At all. It’s the only way to prove that I do.”
Damn it. He did not pay anywhere near good enough to expect Dear Abby duty. “I’m trying really hard to feel bad for you, Mr. Ellison. I really am. But it’s two in the morning and my boss is kind of psychotic about me opening the office on time.”
“She’s pregnant, Taylor.”
That opened her eyes.
“I can’t lose her.”
Maaaaaan. What was she supposed to say to that? Unwillingly opening her eyes, Taylor propped herself up on her free arm and tried to rub the webs from her mind. “Did you tell her that?”
“I…tried.”
“Trying is for pussies,” she grumbled, wishing not for the first time that Frankie hadn’t talked her into quitting smoking. Too late, she remembered who she was talking to. At his continued silence, she sighed. “Sorry, that’s what happens when you wake people up at ungodly hours.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He probably would. He’d still call, if it suited his purposes, but he wouldn’t be surprised.
“What I’m getting at is that you have to tell her how you feel. Not make some half-assed attempt and tell yourself you gave it a good shot. Cough it up or quit complaining.”
“I’m not sure telling her would be enough at this point. She wouldn’t even talk about it.”
Wow, when Krista grew a pair, she made them out of solid brass. “Sounds like you need to make one of those over-the-top, grand gesture type things.”
“Like what?” For a guy who sucked at expressing himself, incredulity came across perfectly.
“I don’t know. You’re at a freaking island getaway. There’s got to be something romantic you can do.”
“Romantic?”
Taylor barely kept from smacking her hand on her own face in frustration. This man wouldn’t know romance if it came down from heaven and crapped on his head. “Yeah. You know, moonlit serenades. Flowers and luaus. Promises you plan to actually keep. Say stuff in public you wouldn’t say by yourself in the dark, underground. That kind of stuff.”
“And women need this?”
“Your woman does. And for future reference, it’s not a one-time deal. This is the kind of stuff you’re always going to have to do.” Damn, she should charge for this shit. It was golden.
“If that’s the case, this is going to get uncomfortable.”
“Call it breaking in for the kid. ’Cause let me tell you, kids are completely uncomforta
ble.” Carrying them, having them, feeding them, cleaning up the unholy things that came out of them. She shuddered.
“Yes,” he replied and damn if he didn’t sound wistful. Poor sap. She gave Mr. Ordered and Organized all of two weeks in newborn hell before he ran out screaming. “If you want her back, really want her back, she’s got to start thinking of you in romantic terms. No, wait. She’s got to see that you see her that way. I’m pretty sure treating her like office equipment is what got you into this mess.”
“Okay. That makes sense.”
Perfect, because she was pulling this shit straight out of her ass. Movement caught her eye and she turned to the man next to her. Frankie propped himself on one hand, watching her with a lunatic grin on his pretty face.
“Shut up,” she mouthed, picking up her pillow and throwing it at his head. He batted it down with a laugh.
“What if she still doesn’t believe me?”
“If you’re as obnoxious about this with her as you are with me, she’ll get it.”
“I’m obnoxious?”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Of course not, sir. And I’m sure as soon as the sun comes up and I call my union rep about this, he’ll totally agree with me.”
“You’re not in a union.”
A weird noise that could have been a growl rumbled through her throat. “Sarcasm is lost on you, isn’t it?”
“Not lost, no. I simply don’t see the value.”
“It’s extremely satisfying.”
“Not to the person on the receiving end.”
“Well, Sherlock, that’s because it isn’t supposed to be. Now, do yourself a favor and wind down that over-thinking brain of yours. Get some sleep. When you wake up, it’ll be a whole new Tahiti. You’ll have the energy to go and convince your finally sane fiancée that you’re the guy for her.”
“What did your boyfriend say to convince you?”
Taylor glanced at Frankie lying on his side, black hair mussed, still smiling, all his dimples winking, and shook her head. Frankie’s convincing argument to move in together had been successive multiple orgasms. “He promised he’d give me everything I needed.” Not a lie. She’d been begging for release at the time. She flicked her mind back on track. “Just remember. Grand gesture. Show her how you really feel. She knows you’re not the kind of guy who lies to get what he wants. She’ll believe you and the three of you can get back to living boringly ever after.”
“As opposed to having clandestine sexual adventures in other people’s offices?”
Taylor smiled, for once genuinely pleased with her boss. “And here I didn’t think you had it in you. Now go show Krista. And don’t ever call before dawn again or I swear I’ll stop washing your coffee pot.” She hung up with a beep and dropped her face into her other pillow.
“That was kinda cute, babe.” Frankie laughed, making her groan. “You, giving romantic advice.”
“It’s not cute.”
“It’s like watching Pacino give soprano singing lessons.”
“Leave me alone, Frankie.”
“No, seriously. You’re the most unromantic woman I’ve ever met in my life. The only time I ever gave you flowers you insisted I was sleeping with someone else.”
Dammit, was she never going to live that down? “What was I supposed to think? You’d never done it before!”
“It was Valentine’s Day, dufus.”
Her cheeks stung, but no matter how much she liked Frankie, she wasn’t about to admit that she’d never had a boyfriend for Valentine’s Day in her life. On purpose. He’d get way too big a head about it. She grumbled on principle and turned away from him. Her gaze caught the phone and she sighed. Maybe he was right. For all she knew, she was giving her boss the keys to killing the only relationship he had a prayer of getting.
A soft kiss pressed to her shoulder, followed by another one, higher on her back. Then another. “Don’t worry, Tay. I like you unromantic.”
“Yeah, right.” She curved her neck for another kiss, which he gave, pressing his warm body to hers.
“No, I do.” His legs moved to twine with hers while his hand slid over her hip to cup her waist. She sighed. A man like Frankie was an excellent reason to sleep naked. “There’s never any bullshit with you. You say what you mean and mean what you say. That’s sexy as hell.”
So was the way his touch was drifting up to her breast. “You’re just saying that.” A delicious shiver went through her at the brush of his stubble against her neck.
“I could try to show you.” He pressed his erection, hot and insistent, against her ass. His hand finally found her breast, those calluses of his rubbing her nipple in the way that made one eye roll up in her head.
She shifted onto her back, falling onto his arm and looking up at his smiling face. She grinned up at him. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? Trying’s for pussies.”
“Guess I’ll have to get it right then.” He looked entirely too pleased with himself when his fingers dipped into her, massaging circles around her opening. Little stars decorated her vision, making her blink. “You know the other thing I love about you, Tay?”
“Shh.” She put her finger to his lips. “You’re busy.”
His tongue flicked out, tickling the tip while he matched the motion on her clit. She gasped and he grinned. “You’re so fucking responsive.”
Or just responsive to fucking, she thought hazily, shivering at his rough whisper. At least, with Frankie she was. She’d been able to ignore other lovers whenever she wanted. All Frankie had to do was breathe in her direction and she was wet.
He lowered his mouth to her nipple, adding it to his list of flickable things. She whimpered, relieved when he sucked it deep into his mouth. Relief disappeared, though, when his thick finger slid all the way into her. Then all she felt was the heat he stirred, his stroking of the bundle of nerves nestled in her walls making her shake. He switched breasts, added a finger and subtly removed her connection to her brain.
“I can’t decide what I love more,” he rumbled, lifting his head to look at her with those melting brown eyes of his. “Eating you or fucking you?”
Was she supposed to know? She bit her lip, not quite sure what she wanted either. The ball of his hand pressed against her clit. Her legs fell open and she didn’t care which one he chose, so long as he picked one quick.
He moved, the crisp feel of his body hair tickling her skin as he all but dove for the space between her thighs. “Dessert first,” was all the warning she got. Then his mouth was there, sucking on her clit, toying with it, nibbling at her, and all she could do was scream.
Taylor was still shuddering when the broad head of his cock pushed into her and his groan floated through her ears. Legs quaking, full of hot, surging male to the point that she couldn’t feel or think of anything else, she began to rise. Muscles strained, her breasts bounced and the unbelievably sweet tension in her pussy coiled tighter and tighter. She grabbed the headboard, panting now, staring up at Frankie, utterly mesmerized by his every flex and withdrawal. So raw, so male, so unapologetically sexual. His smile was more a twist of his lips, and when his thrusts turned into fast, jutting pulses, she had no choice but to close her eyes.
He dropped over her, pushing one of her legs wider and drawing a desperate wail from her. Harder, deeper he pushed. “Look at me, Taylor.”
“Uh-uh.” If she looked, he’d see what she didn’t want him to see.
“Open those eyes, baby.” His hand slipped between them, stroking her clit downward when he thrust upward. The shock of it gave him what he wanted and the look that greeted her scared her more than anything else. Until he spoke. “I want to see your face when I tell you…I just love you, Tay.”
He squeezed her clit, stealing her breath and doing a hell of a lot more than decorating her vision with stars. He groaned, his thrusts wild and artless while he pumped into her, exploding with her.
She held him, drawing in gulping breaths, and closed her eyes again. He so did not play f
air. He waited in her hold, nuzzling, still moving through her folds as if he just couldn’t help himself. He could. She knew he could. He was waiting for her to give him what he’d been after from the beginning.
She glanced at the phone, thinking again of her boss who was now on his own in Tahiti, chasing after what she was trying so hard to avoid. Because of the two of them, David Ellison was this close to losing it. Who was she to throw it away? All Frankie wanted was the truth and she was unfortunate enough that guilt turned her honest every time.
Frankie lifted his head, his dark gaze boring into her. Waiting.
“Fine,” she growled breathlessly, which totally ruined the effect of growling. “I love you too, asshole.”
He smiled.
God, Ellison, I hope you have better luck than I do.
But when Frankie rose up to kiss her senseless, she really wasn’t sure that was possible.
Chapter Seven
The serenade idea was definitely out, David decided from his perch on the beach. With nowhere to go, his only option had been to sit near the shore and watch the water darken as the sun went down. The hotel lights glinted off the rolling waves, and people were a constant traffic, no matter the time of night, but none of that distracted him. The bungalows formed a strand to the west, a series of pyramid-shaped grass roofs creating a hopscotch pattern into the sea. He could see the water rolling through the stilts that supported each one and the pier used to reach them. Hers was perfectly clear from his seat, but it might as well have been a thousand miles away considering his inability to reach her.
Taylor hadn’t been the help he’d been hoping for. Her ideas weren’t any better than his own. If there were anything that would definitely send Krista running again, it would be the sound of his singing voice. Flowers didn’t strike him as a big enough gesture. They practically flew on the breeze here. No, she had to take him seriously. Dying plants wouldn’t cut it.
Her last thought, though…
Could he really make obnoxiousness work? He preferred to call it obstinacy, but the effect was the same. Stand his ground. Force her to listen, somehow. He knew if he could just get the words right, she’d understand how much she meant to him. The problem was that she was so eager to have him gone, she never gave him the time to find them.
