by Tessa Layne
Her hand stayed on his back, rubbing in concentric circles. “You’re not going to. You’re not Johnny.”
“I don’t believe that.” He wiped his face on his arm. Calm slowly seeping in where the anger had burned.
Emma’s voice acted like a cooling balm. “I remember feeling so angry when my father died. And he was horrible. My brothers don’t even refer to him as dad.”
Sterling didn’t remember much about Jake Sinclaire. They’d been freshman when he’d died, and he’d been too caught up in girls and football to pay much attention to the gossip his parents discussed. “I was angry for how my mother kept giving him chances he didn’t deserve. Angry when he left us. Angry that my mother got sick and left us too, after the hard life she’d had. I was so mad at the injustice of it all, I vowed I’d never be like either of them. And if you don’t want to end up like Johnny, you won’t.”
“It’s not that simple, Emma. You know that.”
She stood and reached for a section of the splintered chair. Then she walked to the fire and tossed it on the flames. The fire hissed and sprang higher in a shower of sparks.
“There are no guarantees in life. I understand that.” She turned and looked at him full-on. “But I’d never bet against you, Sterling. Not in a million years.”
CHAPTER 23
She looked like some sort of avenging angel, glowing orange backlit by the fire, and radiating such fierce conviction it constricted his throat. Wielding absolution with one hand and terror with the other. Her voice shook when she spoke. “You’re nothing like Johnny, Sterling. Nothing.”
Her words laid him bare. Sliced through his armor and exposed his vulnerable underbelly. She could see his deepest fears. His darkest secrets. Rising to his feet, he stumbled toward her, catching her in a tight embrace, holding on for dear life. “I need you, Emma.” He needed all of her. Her softness to absorb his hardness. Her fierce strength. Her sweetness that tasted like forever.
Bending, he swept her legs up and turned, carrying her into the house. Kicking shut the back door, he swiftly carried her through the house, setting her down when he reached his bedroom. Her hand reached out for the light switch, but he caught it, shaking his head. “I want to see you,” he said roughly as he toed off his boots, not caring where he flung them.
He registered the thud of her boots joining his somewhere on the floor. He tilted her chin and claimed her mouth with bruising intensity, tongue sweeping into her sweet mouth faintly tasting of wine, and plundering her recesses. She seemed to recognize this deep, primal need to possess her entirely and she moaned as he deepened the kiss, melting into him and kissing him back with equal passion.
Her hands were everywhere. Alternately clutching his shoulders, then spearing through his hair, pulling him closer. She grabbed at the buttons on his shirt, and mouth still on hers, he covered her hands and jerked, popping the buttons all the way down. Lust pounded in his veins as he sought the edge of her sweater and yanked it up, only stopping his assault on her mouth to pull the sweater over his head.
They came at each other again. So quickly they bumped noses, teeth. She came alive at his touch, skin heating under his fingers, moaning in the back of her throat. He palmed her breast, seeking her nipple through the fabric of her bra. With a noise, she reached behind herself and released the clasp, shrugging her shoulders to fling it across the room. “Touch me,” she said with a sigh. “Make me yours.”
He cupped her breasts, heavy and full, teasing her nipples into tight peaks, his cock jerking against his zipper with each sigh, each cry. Rolling them between his fingers, he gave a little tug and she arched, exposing the creamy column of her neck. He tongued the corded length, laying a nip at her collarbone. Her arousal rose from her, mingling with her perfume. A heady drug that had his head spinning as he tasted her skin. “Yessss,” she hissed. “Do it again.”
He walked her back until they hit the edge of the bed, and she sat, hands moving to his waistband, but he moved out of reach, dropping to his knees, fingers working the clasp of her jeans. As soon as the zipper was down she arched her hips and hooking his fingers through the lace of her panties, dragged everything off, exposing her completely.
His breath caught in his chest. “So beautiful,” he murmured as he slowly inspected her. “So perfect.” From the red mark where he’d nipped her collarbone, to her dusky puckered nipples, to the pale expanse of her torso, and the soft swell of her belly. She was everything he’d dreamed. He drew a finger from the base of her throat, down the valley between her breasts, across her silken skin, stopping at her mound. With a mewling cry, she flexed her hips, pushing her pubic bone into him, a silent pleading for more.
His heart raced, pounding against his ribs, as he forced himself to slow down. His breath came in harsh rasps. Adrenaline surged through him, sharpening his focus. A pale fuzz barely covered her pussy. And he stroked over the soft thatch, touching lightly as her hips rolled. He groaned as he slipped a finger between her swollen pussy lips into her slick heat. She cried out at his touch, a shiver running through her body. With his thumb, he found her clit and worked it in a circle, as he pumped a second finger into her channel.
She clutched the bed, writhing.
“Come for me, baby.”
Her eyes flew open. “On your cock,” she ground out. “I want to come with you.”
Fuck.
Her gaze was wild, untamed. As lust-crazed as he was, and it burned straight through to his soul. He slipped his hand from her, keeping her gaze while he slowly licked his fingers, lapping up her sweetness like she was water in the desert. In one swift move, he dropped his pants, freeing his cock. She scrambled back, making room for him, and he braced his hands on either side of her head, looming over her.
“You want my cock?” he rasped. “Tell me again how much you want my cock.”
Lust flamed in her eyes and she nodded. “I want all of you.”
But there was so much more in her gaze than lust.
His heart cracked open. This was too much. It felt too big. Like he was being turned inside out and shoved through a pinhole all at once. He made a choked sound as she moved under him, and then he slid home. Buried himself balls deep in her sweetness.
Her hand cupped his cheek. “Sterling,” she breathed out on the softest sigh. He answered her with a thrust of his hips, and she arched to meet him. “I’m right here,” she murmured as she captured his gaze. “I’m right here.”
He wanted to hide, but she’d broken through every last defense and he was bare before her as they rocked together. The fire in her eyes captured him like a tractor beam, and he couldn’t look away. It kept his soul from shattering into a million pieces. Heat raced up the back of his legs in a shower of sparks. His balls tightened with a heavy ache as she moved with him in a primitive dance that he was powerless to stop. The only thing he could do was ride the wave between them. “Emma,” he choked out as hot emotion ran like lava through his veins. “Oh God, Emma,” he cried out as his orgasm ripped through him, spotting his vision.
She spasmed around him as she followed him over the edge, crying out. “I’m right here, Sterling. Not going anywhere.” Her eyes were wet with tears.
He kissed her, continuing to move. First her temples, salty and wet. Then her cheeks, and at last, coming home to her soft lips. He couldn’t speak. Words weren’t big enough or adequate enough. He lifted his head, staring down at her, memorizing the pale freckles across her nose, the creases at the corner of her eyes, the flush of her cheek, rosy from their lovemaking.
Her eyes flicked to his, warm and shining, and she parted her lips to speak. He kissed her again, stopping her. If either of them spoke, the spell would be broken, and he wanted this perfect moment to go on and on. To hold everything else at bay. Because he couldn’t handle the shitstorm of feelings about to crash over him. He rolled them onto their sides, and buried his face in her neck, breathing her in.
“Sterling?” her voice was muffled in his shoulder.
<
br /> He tightened his embrace. “Shh. Let me just hold you.”
CHAPTER 24
Sunlight streamed through the blinds, and she reached across the bed, coming fully awake when her hand found only cool sheets. She sat, rubbing her eyes, and found Sterling, fully dressed, sitting in the chair across from the bed, head bent and resting his elbows on his knees. Her stomach dropped.
“Everything okay?” He raised his head. Everything was most certainly not okay. His eyes had the look of a haunted man. “Sterling?” She scrambled out of bed, not caring she was stark naked. “What is it? Did something happen?”
She reached for him, but he shrugged her away. “You need to go,” he said woodenly.
Her blood ran cold. “Wait. What? What do you mean?”
“God help me, Em. I love being with you,” he rasped.
Oh, God. OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod. Nooooo. She recognized that tone of voice. But it didn’t make sense. Not after what they’d shared the night before. She was falling in love with him. She’d talked about her parents. She never talked about her parents with anyone. Not even her brothers. “I don’t understand.” But the sick feeling in her stomach said she understood all too well what was coming.
He looked at her, eyes dull. Face pulled tight. “You were right about there being no guarantees. I was up all night thinking about it. Watching you sleep. I was a monster last night.”
“You were angry and hurting.” She’d seen far worse in her own home. Last night had been an uncharacteristic outburst of grief. Nothing more.
“You don’t know that,” he said harshly. “I don’t know that. What if the next time I throw something at you? Or worse?”
Panic swirled up through her body, making everything pass in slow motion. “I know you. That’s not who you are. You’re not a violent person. Neither are your parents. I’ve never seen you start a fight. Or intimidate or disrespect anyone. You’ve never been anything but a gentleman.”
He lifted his head back. “Ha.”
“You’re grieving, Sterling. Grief takes time. But it’s not a reason to walk away from love.”
His eyes bored into her, icy and wild. “Is that what you think this is?”
Her breath caught in her chest. Last night? She’d have said yes. The second she’d awakened? Same. But now? She was packing up the private Emma and hiding her behind a wall, too scared to say what she wanted for fear of what he might say. “I think it could be,” she said slowly.
“This isn’t love,” he said harshly. “It’s chemistry. It’s fucking.”
His words sliced to her core. Right through her defensive walls to the very heart of her. “I know why you’re doing this,” she articulated when she could find her voice again. “I know why you’re pushing me away. And you don’t need to.”
“You don’t know what I need,” he growled.
A flame sparked to life in her chest. “What you need,” she snapped back, “is a slap upside the head.”
He glared at her. “Is that so?”
“Yes. It is. And I want a legitimate reason from you as to why you’re telling me to leave.” She wasn’t going to let him run away from this. Not after last night.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly looking exhausted. “We’ve been over this. I don’t know how else to spell it out.”
“Well you better try real hard, mister.” Anger fisted in her chest. Clearing her head, sharpening her tongue.
“Fine.” He stood and tossed her sweater on the bed. “Get dressed.”
She stood, too. “No. If you’re going to send me away. Then you’re going to see what you’re giving up on.” She’d use every weapon at her disposal this morning.
“I’m not giving up on anything. There was never anything to give up on.”
She arched a brow. “Is that so? Nothing?”
He tossed her pants on the bed, eyes raking over her. Her hopes rose. There was a flicker of heat there. Of longing. “Nothing.”
“Liar.” Her throat tightened as her mind reeled. Why was he doing this? This didn’t make sense. “I want one good reason from you why I should walk out of here.”
“Fine,” he bit out, squeezing his hips. “I’m not going to break you or anyone else the way Johnny broke Mace.”
“That’s a load of crap, Sterling. How do you know sending me away right now won’t break me?”
His head whipped up, eyes boring into her. At least that got his attention. “You don’t love me.” His voice was clipped. Dry. Hopeless.
Her heart slammed into her throat, and she stood on the edge of a chasm. Terrified to jump, yet knowing it was the only way across the gulf between them. “What if I did?” she whispered thickly.
He let out a harsh sigh. “Then I’d tell you you’re barking up the wrong tree, because I can never be the man you deserve.”
She shut her eyes, willing the tears back into her skull. “What if you’re the man I want?”
“I’d tell you you’re a fool,” he rasped, raking a hand over his head and regarding her with terrible eyes. “Because.” He shuddered and gulped. “Because I don’t want you.”
Emma stopped breathing. In a flash as searing and rapid as a lightning bolt tearing through a tree, his words cleaved her heart in two. Only the thunder was the roar of her blood in her ears. “You don’t mean that,” she said, putting as much iron into her words as she could muster. “Look me in the eye and tell me again that you don’t want me, that everything between us was all an act.”
She swallowed when he looked at her, the unbending steel in his eyes, and she knew he’d do it. He’d tell her. This was Sterling the warrior. Sterling the soldier with a mission to complete. And his mission was to purge her from his life. She swallowed down the sob that threatened to shred her voice.
His words were succinct. As sharp as glass. “I. Don’t. Want. You.”
Only through sheer will, was she able to keep her spine ramrod straight and not collapse in a heap. “I feel sorry for you Sterling. I really do. That you have chosen loneliness and despair over the possibility of love.” She sniffed, gathering her anger around her like a cloak. “Because, in the end, that’s all we have. What’s most important is our ability to give and receive love. It’s the only thing that separates us from the animals, and it’s the only glimpse we get of heaven.” She glowered at him, drawing on every last bit of strength she had. “You’re not half the man I thought you were.” She swept from the room, keeping her head high, snagging the blanket from the couch and wrapping it around her like a toga as she marched through the office and to her car, offering a silent plea to the universe to spare her the humiliation of running into anyone.
CHAPTER 25
Somehow she made it back to the ranch without running the car into a ditch, and managed to make it to her bedroom without running into anyone. A small miracle in a house filled to the brim for the big game.
In a fog, she pulled on her favorite jeans and one of the exhibition tees she’d had printed for the game.
She’s not my girlfriend.
I. Don’t. Want. You.
The words she’d overheard and the words he’d flung at her materialized in her head. How could she have been such a fool? He hadn’t changed. He was as capricious as he’d ever been. A tear squeezed out of her eye and her hands shook as she buttoned up the exhibition jersey with the Kansas City Kings logo. For a split second, she contemplated wearing the Navy cap. But then her shoulders sagged. What would that prove?
Nothing.
And for the first time, she didn’t want to act like everything was okay. That nothing affected her. Let Sterling see the fallout from his stubbornness. From his stupidity. At least she was ready for today. It turned out to have been a good thing that she’d taken care of nearly all the details yesterday, while she had a brain. She could get through the next six hours. It would suck, but she could do it. Then she could go home to Kansas City and lick her wounds in peace. By the time she returned to Prairie to wrap up work on the p
oker tournament and concert, she’d be good as new. She’d make sure of it.
She blinked hard, shoving back the wave of nausea that threatened to turn her stomach inside out.
Heck, maybe she’d even take a trip to New York City to see her fellow Athena Scholar sisters. They were always bugging her to come visit. She grabbed her phone and typed a note to herself to look into that as soon as she was home.
Pinching some color into her cheeks, she glanced into the mirror and practiced smiling. She looked on the verge of tears. That wouldn’t do. Not with so many big names descending on Prairie. She’d have to rely on the cover of sunglasses. At least everything was taking place outside.
Twisting her hair into a low bun and opting for no baseball cap, she rolled her shoulders back and left for town. She wasn’t on the fast track to the corner office at Royal Fountain because she took things lying down. No sirree. She’d overcome obstacles before. Sterling was just another obstacle. But even a personal pep-talk couldn’t spare her from the piercing in her heart as the thought entered her head. Filling her lungs and blowing out slowly, she blinked back tears. She could do it. She could look at him without falling to pieces. Her mother had endured worse, and never cracked… in public.
Emma pulled into the high school parking lot just ahead of the Kings’ team bus. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Travis, Weston, and Cash. And across the lot Sterling stood huddled next to Jason with Trace McBride. Even with sunglasses on, it was obviously him. Rounding out the group was Macey holding little Sophie. Her heart flip-flopped as she quickly looked away. Grabbing a clipboard from her bag on the seat, she hopped out of the car, smile firmly in place when the bus door opened and Alex Jordan hopped out. He caught her in a bear hug and swung her around.
“You look fabulous, Emma. Gorgeous as ever.”
A little ego fluff wouldn’t hurt at all today. “You look pretty good yourself.” She patted his broad chest. “The exhibition jerseys look fantastic. You all ready?”
