Shifting again, Shane slid his hands beneath her ass, tilted her pelvis up and continued thrusting inside her. “God, yes. That’s my girl.”
The change in angle was another assault on her clit. Cyn gasped, and gripped his ass. “So deep, baby.”
Shane groaned and buried his face in her neck, grinding into her. “So good. Love your cunt.”
“Come for me, Shane. Let me feel your thick cock come inside me.”
He growled and bit her neck, driving into her harder, faster—
His orgasm hit, and Cyn nearly came again from the feel of his prick jerking inside her, spurting all his hot seed deep within her pussy. He shuddered above her. “Yes! Fuck, yes!”
She dug her nails into his ass and wrapped her legs around him. She didn’t want him to move away. She wanted him there for as long as he’d stay. Shane buried his fingers in her hair and settled between her thighs, all of his weight on her. And Cyn held him even closer.
For the love of all things holy, she didn’t know what she was going to do when he finally did leave.
Chapter Thirty-One
Two days later, Shane followed the hostess through the restaurant at a golf club in Pasadena to where his mother was waiting. She’d texted him that morning asking him if he’d meet her for lunch. He’d been so shocked at the invitation he just stared at the message for a long while and finally replied that he’d come. With everything going on between him and Cyn, the last thing Shane wanted to deal with was his mother, but curiosity won out, so there he was, heading to her table.
The hostess motioned to the table and Shane thanked her before bending and giving his mother a kiss on the cheek. “Mom.”
“Shane, darling. So good to see you again. Please, have a seat.”
“Sure.” He took the chair across from her. “Good to see you too.” The waiter placed a menu in front of him and then filled his water glass. “Nice place.”
She smiled and sipped from her water glass. “Thank you for coming.”
“Sure.” He placed his napkin on his lap and hoped like crazy that the conversation between them might become an actual conversation instead of their standard light and polite chit-chat because at the rate they were going, Shane wouldn’t make it past ordering his food. “To be honest, I was kind of shocked by your invite.”
His mother tilted her head to the side. “Oh? Why’s that, darling?”
Shane cringed. She rarely called him by his name, always using the obnoxious endearment instead. In the rare cases she used his name it was in combination with the expression. Unless he’d pissed her off, then she used his name. Usually in a very clipped tone. “Because it’s not something we do.”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
Jesus, she was going to make him say it outright. Talk about starting off with a bang. “We don’t usually spend time together, Mom.”
“Well.” She looked down, probably adjusting her napkin on her lap. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Mom, listen—” he leaned forward and lowered his voice, “—why don’t you just cut to the chase and save us both the pain of an entire lunch together.”
She narrowed her gaze on him and pressed her lips together. Shane looked up to see the waiter beside the table. Perfect…time to order food. Shane sat back and glanced over the menu while his mother placed her order. When she finished, Shane gave his selection and once again, they were alone. He studied her across the table. As usual she looked beautiful, definitely younger than her fifty-six years.
“I would really like it if we were closer, but honestly, I am simply not sure how to connect with you, darling.” She straightened her salad and dinner forks. “I thought this might be a nice way to start.” Her lips curved into a meek smile.
If he didn’t know better, he might actually think she was sincere. Except his mother was never sincere. Shane cringed at his cynical attitude. Was he really that jaded? He hated to think so. Maybe she actually did want to be closer. He drew in a deep breath and took another drink of his water. “All right, Mom. I’m willing to try. Let’s start over.” He stretched his hand across the table, palm up.
She smiled, leaned forward and laid her hand in his. “That pleases me so much, darling.” The glass of Chardonnay she ordered arrived and she let go of Shane’s hand and settled back in her seat. “So, tell me about Texas?”
“Well, not much to tell really. I live just outside of Dallas, in Garland.”
“Near where my father’s family is?”
“Yes, actually. Uncle Bob and Aunt Cerine are still there. They’re doing well, by the way. You should call sometime.”
She nodded and sipped her wine. “It’s been years since I’ve spoken to either of them. Not since my daddy died, really.”
“That’s a long time, Mom.”
“I suppose it is.” She set her glass down. “What else?”
He wasn’t used to her wanting to know things about him, and because of that Shane wasn’t used to sharing things with her—not personal things anyway. Nervous energy bounced through him, but he tamped down his trepidation. He said he’d try and that’s exactly what he intended to do.
* * * * *
Shane sat in Joey’s kitchen, beer bottle in hand, cursing himself for being so stupid.
“Dude, it’s not your fault.”
He shook his head. “Joey, I should’ve known better.”
“Come on. She’s your mother. It’s only normal to trust your own mother.”
“Not my mother.” Shane tipped the bottle back and took a long swig. “Christ, you should’ve seen her. All sincere-like. Asking about my life in Texas, about my home and job. All so she could figure out if she’d get the house from me.”
“Yeah, it’s fucked up. I’m sorry, bro. I never knew your dad left the house to both of you.”
“Honestly? I knew, but never really thought about it. I mean, why the hell would she leave our house? Dad’s insurance paid it off free and clear. But of course, she took out a second mortgage on it. Which was fine, I guess.” He shrugged. “But she can’t sell it without me signing over my part of the deed.”
“What do you think you’re going to do?”
“I don’t know. Part of me says fuck it, let her have it. Not like I’m moving back here.” He tipped his bottle back again.
“You sure about that?”
Shane lowered the bottle and leveled his gaze on his best friend. “Why do you ask like that?”
“I’m just saying, you’ve been here a lot longer than the ten days you originally planned to be here. And from what I can see, you aren’t showing any signs of getting out of town any time soon.”
“Only because I’m worried about your sister. Which is a whole other topic I’m not ready to get into right now, but yeah. I don’t want to go until I know she’s okay, Joey. I’d think you’d appreciate me looking out for her.”
“Go easy, I do appreciate it. Believe me, selfish bastard that I am, I’d love nothing more than for you to stay here permanently. But you gotta do what makes you happy too.”
“Your sister makes me happy. Or she did—” Shane blew out an agitated breath, “—before that asshole Carlos attacked her, she made me beyond happy. Now, in between the happy, she gives me a hard time. About everything. It’s fine, I’m not complaining, but yeah…not easy.”
“I can only imagine. We’ve all had a little taste of Cyn and her constant agitated mood.”
“It sucks and now this shit with my mother. I can’t imagine selling that house, Joey.” Shane shifted his gaze to the windows. “Been a lot of years since he passed, but to me, that’s still his house. Our house, you know?”
“I couldn’t imagine my parents selling their house, I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like holding onto yours because it’s tied to the memory of your father. He was a good man, Shane. I don’
t blame you for wanting to preserve it. But at the same time, it’s just a house. Your father’s memory is with you always, regardless of whether or not you own that property.”
Shane ran his palm over his head. “Yeah, I know. I know.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Not much…when she finally spit out her point, and I realized the play she was making, I got furious and walked out.”
“Damn, Shane.”
“Dude, if I didn’t walk out right then, I would’ve started yelling. I don’t think the rest of the country club would’ve appreciated my choice of vocabulary.” He swirled his bottle of beer. “Though it would’ve been fun to see her go ten different shades of red had I laid into her.”
“No shit.”
Shane stared out the kitchen windows to the backyard and sighed though his nose. His mother was a real piece of work. Luring him in the way she did had stung layers that ran so deep inside him, Shane was still feeling the burn. Based on what she’d laid out for him, her new man had proposed to her and they were going to tie the knot sometime in the next few months and shortly after, move to Arizona where his family was. Basically, Derrick had persuaded her to sell the house so they could buy a great big one in the Phoenix area and pay cash for it.
The idea that money from his father’s house would end up buying her and her new husband a nice new showplace house, free and clear, made Shane want to puke. Bile burned the back of his throat and he smoothed his palm over his skull. What kind of man used his woman’s dead husband’s house for seed money to get her a new one? Shane shook his head and swallowed the last of his beer. Not any kind of man he ever wanted to know or needed in his life.
“I’m going to go check on Madi. You good or you need another beer?” Joey stood.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll take another. Thanks.”
Joey stepped out of the room and Shane picked up his cell from the table. He hadn’t heard from Cyn, which had turned into the norm with her. She never texted or called during the day, though on occasion he’d hear from her when she was leaving the office. She’d make up some excuse why she called, but Shane knew deep down it was because she was freaked out walking from the door to her Jeep. Even if it was still daylight.
Sadness bloomed in his chest. Shane really needed to hear her voice. But more, he wanted to tell her all about what had happened with his mother, and know that he was safe to share how hurt he was over the whole thing. He just didn’t think he could bear her rejecting him.
Bad enough his own mother didn’t give a fuck about him, Shane didn’t need to be cast off by Cyn too. Although, it wasn’t like he was feeling a whole lot of want from her side to begin with. She wanted his dick though. And what he could give her…she took all of that, but aside from the sex, she didn’t give a whole lot back.
God, he wished she’d seek some help. But no matter what he said, or how many times he’d tried to convince her, she wasn’t budging. Now, with this level of rejection from his mother, and her wanting to take away a part of his childhood, he felt pushed past his limits and worn down to the bone. Shane wasn’t sure how much longer he could hang on, waiting for Cyn to figure her end of things out.
He knew there was a future for them. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind, even with the big mess in the middle of their start, they were meant to be together.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cyn sat across from Angie in a booth at their favorite pizza place. Right when Cyn was ready to leave the office, Angie had strolled in, long legs wrapped in new skinny jeans, and a new pair of black patent leather Doc Martens on her feet. Her sister had inherited their father’s darker features, where Cyn was a mix of both of their parents. Tonight, Angie’s long, almost black hair, had been straightened to perfection, and skimmed her lower back. Her sister loved to alternate between long waves from hot-rollers or a curling iron, or pulling it straight with a flat iron. Either way it always looked beautiful.
Angie bit into her slice of Hawaiian pizza. “So, tell me how things are with Shane?” she mumbled around her mouthful of food.
“Fine, I guess. He redid my living room. It’s beautiful of course.” Cyn picked a piece of pineapple off her slice and tossed it into her mouth.
“I heard. Can’t wait to see it. Very sweet of him, Cyn.”
“Yeah. I know. Handy around the house, and the sex is mind-blowing.”
“Oooh, juicy, juicy. Tell me more.”
Cyn laughed. “No.”
“Brat. You know I’m not getting any right now.”
“Anyway…” Cyn sipped her soda. “Thanks for bringing that shit up last week.”
“It was an accident. You act like I did it on purpose.” Angie took another bite of her pizza.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you did.”
Her sister frowned. “Don’t be like that, Cyn.”
“Fine.” Silence stretched between them and Cyn busied herself by eating as her ever-present agitation vibrated her limbs. Her temper was getting the better of her more and more—like all of the freaking time now. With everyone. Except not so much with Angie, at least not until right then. Shit! Cyn flopped her pizza onto the plate and blew out a breath.
Why the hell couldn’t she get herself straight? Cyn could barely make it five minutes without something or someone pissing her off. Dealing with clients had turned into a nightmare too. By the time each day had finished tension had built so high within her, she thought she might explode. And then she usually would. Most times at Shane.
At first, she’d chalked up her moodiness to what had happened with Carlos. But for fuck’s sake, it’d been almost three weeks since “the night” and nothing had gotten better. Fuck! Cyn looked at her sister. “Well as a result, we had a big fight.”
“You and Shane?” Angie grabbed another slice.
“No, me and Santa Claus. Who do you think, Angie? God!”
“What? God nothing, Cyn. It was just a question. You should try answering instead of jumping down my throat and trampling my lungs.”
Cyn brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Fine. Yes. Shane and I had a big fight. Better?”
“Getting there.” Angie rolled her eyes and lifted her pizza. “Maybe that’s why he redid the living room for you. So what happened?”
Cyn rolled her eyes. “He wanted to know what you were talking about. He wouldn’t drop it.” She shrugged. “So I changed the subject.”
Angie bit into her pizza and again spoke with her mouth full. “To what?”
Cyn crossed her arms and sneered. “You have heinous table manners.” She handed her sister a napkin from the dispenser.
“Whatever.”
“I asked him when he was leaving.”
“No shit. That’s harsh, Cyn. What’d he say?”
“I don’t think it was harsh at all.” Cyn chuckled, wondering what Angie’s response would be next. “He said he’d leave after I’d had a session with a counselor.”
“Interesting.” Angie set her pizza down and wiped her mouth and hands with the napkin before taking a sip of soda.
Irritation flowed through Cyn’s veins like ice water. She expected Angie to say something, anything. Ask questions, or whatever. She’d deal. But she didn’t know how to perceive the whole bunch of nothing coming her way. Why the hell was her sister stalling? “What? Just say it!”
Angie leveled her gaze on Cyn, pulled her hair over one shoulder and leaned forward. “What I’ll say is, why don’t you lower your voice, hmm? We don’t really need the whole restaurant to hear your fit.” Angie sat back in a huff.
Cyn glanced around the small parlor. Her sister was right; the whole place didn’t need to be unwilling participants. “Fine. Sorry. But explain your ‘interesting’ comment.”
“I guess I’m wondering why haven’t you sought out some counseling?”
Cyn hadn’t exp
ected that to come out of her sister’s mouth, and she jerked back as if Angie had tossed a cold drink in her face. “What do you mean, ‘why haven’t I sought out a counselor’?”
Angie pushed her plate away and folded her arms on the table. “Just what I said. I didn’t stutter, Cyn.”
“Fuck you, Angie.”
“Cynthia, what the hell? I’m not going to sit here and just put up with you talking to me like this. And Shane, well, if this is even a taste of what you’re serving up to him daily? That poor dude needs a fucking medal. And after how you treated him, he freaking went out and redid your living room for you? Yeah, maybe two medals plus sainthood.”
“Don’t talk about what you don’t know!” Cyn bolted to her feet, the chair legs screeching over the linoleum floor. “You can sit here all you want. I’m leaving.”
“Wait. This is crazy. Cyn, come on. Seriously?”
Cyn ignored her sister’s plea and stalked from the restaurant. She didn’t need this shit and wasn’t about to deal with it. She’d had about enough of dealing with everyone else too. Why didn’t the people in her life understand she was stressed. And tired. And really, just fucking done taking anyone’s bullshit. If they wouldn’t leave her alone, she’d be the one to walk away. As far as a counselor or therapist, or any of the above was concerned, her decision was final.
She was not and never would go see a goddamn therapist. She didn’t need therapy, what she needed was to be left alone.
Fatigue hit Cyn like a ton of bricks as she pulled into her garage. After getting into the house, she tossed her keys on the kitchen counter and made her way to her bedroom. The smell of fresh paint still lingered and she paused and glanced at the living room. Even with the new decor a chill ran down her spine. She hated that room now, didn’t want anything to do with it. It didn’t matter that Shane had tried to make it pretty for her again, she hadn’t stepped foot into it since that night. And she didn’t intend to.
Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3 Page 24
