by Croix, J. H.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lucy
My hands gripped the back of the couch, my fingers digging into the cushioned fabric. Levi untangled his fingers from my hair, his palm sliding down my spine in a path of burning heat. I arched under his touch, frantic for more.
The hot, velvety skin of his shaft brushed against my bottom before he slid his hand between my thighs, nudging my legs apart with his knee as his fingers delved into my folds. I was soaked with need for him.
I barely recognized myself as I cried out, moaning his name. Suddenly, Levi muttered something else before stepping back swiftly. I started to straighten, glancing over my shoulder. “Where…”
“Condom,” he bit it out gruffly. “I just have to run upstairs.”
I shook my head sharply. “No need. I’m on the pill.”
He stared at me, his eyes boring into mine. I suddenly felt vulnerable.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean...” I started to say.
He shook his head sharply, his hands curling around my hips again.
I’d been on the pill for years. It was more a convenience thing than anything. Despite that, I’d never had sex without a condom. Not even the fateful time I lost my virginity. Although the guy had been a jerk about it after the fact, he had used a condom.
I stared at Levi over my shoulder. His hand on my hip was a hot brand, searing us together. I didn’t want him to run upstairs and grab a condom. I didn’t want anything that would make me stop and think. I shook my head again, nudging my hips back against him.
“I need you,” I said roughly.
I broke free from his gaze. It was too intense, the moment too intimate.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Are you…”
I cut him off, anticipating he was about to ask if I was okay with this. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I wasn’t.”
I didn’t want to think, I wanted to lose myself in sensation. He stepped closer, the head of his cock sliding through my folds. He was hard and thick, despite having come in my mouth only moments ago. I felt a wash of relief, knowing perhaps he was as needy for me as I was for him. He teased me, coating his cock with my juices as he dragged it back and forth.
On another low moan, pleading for him to give me what I needed, he finally did. He sank inside, slow and sure, stretching and filling me. Seating himself deeply, he held still for a beat, his hands cupping my hips. I arched back, pressing against him. His palm slid up my spine, his touch a blaze of heat, sending sparks flying into the fire already burning inside.
I was aflame inside and out, spiraling out of control, and I didn’t care. My need for him was like a storm inside, pushing me into a frenzy. His hand laced into my hair as he started to stroke into me, drawing out fully and sinking in again and again. The pull and slide inside my channel had me dancing on the edge. He murmured hot, dirty words.
“Lucy, you make me crazy. You’re so fucking hot.”
When I groaned on the heels of a rough drive into me, he muttered, “Your pussy feels so fucking good, so tight.”
All the while, I gasped, moaned and cried his name with every thrust. This wasn’t a gentle claiming, it was rough and hard—exactly what I needed. This was the only way to slake my endless need for him.
On the heels of a deep surge, I felt him start to tighten. He eased his grip on my hip, reaching his hand around and swirling his fingers over my clit.
My climax crashed over me, the pleasure hitting me like sparks on metal, scattering through me everywhere. I was nearly limp from it, barely hearing his guttural cry as the heat of his release filled me.
I stood there, my hands gripping the back of the couch with my head bowed as I caught my breath. Levi slowly straightened, his hands holding me steady at the hips. My heart drummed out a wild beat, and it wasn’t simply from the exertion. I suddenly wanted to cry, not from sadness, but from the depth of emotion coursing through me.
I didn’t know what to do with any of it. So I simply tried to catch my breath, having no sense of how much time was passing. I didn’t realize I was getting cold until he spoke.
“You’re cold,” Levi said, his hands sliding over my skin, his touch warm and comforting. I lifted my head, glancing over my shoulder and hoping the dim lighting masked the tears pressing at the backs of my eyes.
“I guess so.”
He drew back, yet before I had a chance to miss the feel of him filling me, he was lifting me in his arms and carrying me upstairs. He almost stumbled on the stairs.
I giggled, feeling emotional and giddy. “That’s what you get for trying to walk up the stairs with your jeans halfway on.”
I felt his smile against my hair. “So true,” he said as he cleared the top step and quickly walked into the bathroom.
Within a few seconds, steam was filling the bathroom, and he was tugging me into the shower after pausing to help me remove my brace. Hot water pounded down over us. It was a few moments before I absorbed the fact that this was now the second time I’d showered with him. I’d never showered with anyone else before.
Me, the queen of one night stands, once a year at best. If that. I’d never let myself share the intimacy of a shower. I looked over as he leaned his head under the water to rinse the shampoo out, water and soap bubbles running down over his body.
It shouldn’t even be legal for him to look the way he did. My mouth went dry just looking at him now, and it had only been moments since my channel had been quaking around his cock. I should be satiated, but then I was starting to doubt I ever could be when it came to Levi.
His skin was bronzed, his body hardened, yet not in the polished way of a man who worked out. Rather, his fitness was pure, raw masculinity. He worked a dangerous job, a job that demanded rugged strength and toughness. With his eyes closed as the water poured over him, I looked my fill, my greedy eyes coasting over his muscled chest, down along his hips to his strong legs. Even in rest, there wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t hard. A grin curled the corner of my mouth when I corrected myself. At this particular moment, his cock wasn’t hard…although it usually was around me.
I’d never thought much about the power I could have over a man. Yet, with Levi, I felt powerful and vulnerable at once.
His eyes opened as he lifted his head, catching my gaze through the water and steam. In a flash, his hand curled around mine, and he reeled me up against him, dipping his head and catching my lips in a kiss. My heart thudded hard in my chest. I couldn’t control any of this, and I didn’t know how.
I scrambled for purchase inside and then stopped bothering. I let myself tumble into the feel of his hard muscled body against mine, the hot water and steam cocooning us in our own little world. I could kiss him for days and days and days.
When he drew back, brushing my wet, tangled hair back off my forehead, I caught his eyes. “You’re really good at that.”
He grinned, one of those delectable, belly flipping grins of his. “Good at what?”
“Kissing.”
“I don’t think it’s me. I think it’s us.”
The moment felt suddenly heavy. I wanted to scoot away, yet I couldn’t. Because no matter how much that scared me, the need to be close to him overrode every other instinct. With his eyes locked on mine, without a word spoken, it was as if he sensed the anxiety starting to bloom inside of me.
With a slight smile, he lightened the moment. “Well, you’re warm now.”
I was not a giggler, but Levi made me giggle. A lot more than I wanted to admit. With a giggle, I looked up at him through the steam. “I am.”
He turned the water off, stepped out and handed me the towel.
By some miracle, he’d remembered to remind me to remove my brace before we showered. I didn’t want to sleep with it on and said as much. He opened his mouth as if to argue and then snapped it shut.
“Since you didn’t tell me what to do, I’ll wear it. I can’t wait to see the doctor next week.”
Next thing I knew,
he was bundling us into bed. His bed was soft, the cotton sheets cool against my skin. I didn’t even bother not to burrow against him. Sleeping with him was like having my own personal heater. I was trying to settle in without my brace bumping him when his voice came above my head.
“I don’t even notice it. Once I’m in bed, all I do is sleep when I’m with you. Well except for sex,” he offered.
I could feel his smile against my hair. I giggled and let my hand fall against his chest. I fell asleep easily, feeling warm and protected in his embrace.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Levi
A few days later, I rapped quickly on the kitchen door to my parents’ house before stepping inside. “Hey Mom,” I called. “Got your text.”
The sound of footsteps reached me as she came down the stairs and crossed the hallway into the kitchen. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun with a pencil.
“Hi hon,” she said as she stepped to my side and pecked me on the cheek. “Coffee?”
“Of course,” I replied as I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it on the coat rack by the door. “So what’s wrong with your dishwasher?”
“Well, if I knew what was wrong with it, I wouldn’t have called you.”
I chuckled. “So true. You like to fix things yourself when you can, just like Lucy.”
I hadn’t meant for that to slip out. Oh well.
My mother turned away from the coffee pot, handing me a mug. Straight black coffee, just how I liked it. I took a swallow and prepared myself for her to comment on what I’d just said.
She didn’t disappoint. “Lucy seems like an independent woman. I like her,” she said pointedly.
Her perceptive gaze assessed me, but I didn’t have anything to hide.
“I’m glad you like her,” I finally said. “I do too.”
She smiled slowly. “I noticed.”
I set my coffee down and stepped to the dishwasher. After fiddling with it for a moment, I glanced to her. “Did you check the drain?”
“I tried, but I can’t get it unscrewed.”
Opening the door, I knelt down and leaned inside the dishwasher. I heard her leaning against the counter nearby while I worked. The drain was the likely culprit, and it wasn’t coming loose easily.
“In all seriousness, Lucy is wonderful. I asked her mother about her,” she offered.
I groaned, wishing my mother wasn’t so damn curious. With my head inside the dishwasher at this point, she couldn’t see me roll my eyes, which was probably a good thing.
“Mom, I know you care about me, and I know you’re going to be nosy, but don’t make Lucy uncomfortable. Please,” I said, my voice muffled by the dishwasher.
“Jody won’t say anything. I’ve gotten to know her pretty well. After you brought Lucy over for dinner, I just wanted to know a little bit more about her. She’s lovely and bright, but she certainly keeps to herself. She seemed a little, well I don’t know, guarded? I wouldn’t quite say she was shy, but…”
I leaned out of the dishwasher with a handful of gunk that had been crammed in the drain. My mother set her coffee down and quickly grabbed the trashcan for me. I stood and washed my hands in the sink.
“Guarded might be the way to put it. What were you hoping her mom was going to tell you?” I asked.
I couldn’t help it, but I was curious as hell. Lucy may not talk about it much, but it was clear she wasn’t particularly close to her mother.
While my mother cleaned up, I checked the dishwasher again. After resetting the control panel, it started right up. I grabbed my coffee and leaned against the counter, waiting for my mother.
Tossing a paper towel in the trash, she returned to her spot by the counter and took a healthy swallow of coffee. “Well, I didn’t know what her mother would tell me, but I learned a lot. They moved up here after Lucy was in foster care for a year.”
My mouth dropped open as I stared at her. “What?” I finally managed.
“You look as shocked as I was. Her father was abusive, and her mother didn’t leave him for years. According to her mother, he was only violent to Lucy once, but that’s what landed her in foster care.”
Anger sliced through me, hot and searing. My fingers gripped the edge of the counter tightly, the physical need to punch something coursing through me. Yet, the man I needed to punch was nowhere near, and it would definitely not be okay if I punched the wall in my mother’s kitchen.
I was reeling inside, trying to wrap my brain around too much at once. My mother’s eyes caught mine. I must’ve looked blank because I was practically numb, so she continued. “Her mother didn’t have the strength to leave her father, so Lucy went to foster care for a year. They moved to Willow Brook when Jody finally got the nerve to leave. She said she knew she needed to leave the state to get away, so that’s what they did.”
I gulped the rest of my coffee, needing the bitterness. I was knocked sideways inside, scrambling for purchase. Restless, I pushed off the counter and helped myself to another cup of coffee.
“Her mother knows you brought Lucy over for dinner because I mentioned it. She was thrilled to hear Lucy’s seeing you.”
Here my mother paused, long enough to cue me to the fact she likely knew more and wasn’t telling me. “What the hell aren’t you telling me?”
She eyed me carefully, setting her coffee down. “You need to hear it from Lucy, not me.”
I stared at my mother. “Bullshit.”
Her gaze softened. “Hon, her mother told me in confidence, mostly because I think she worries about Lucy.”
Her gaze was calm, steady and implacable. I took a swift gulp of coffee, trying like hell to absorb all of this and feeling helpless.
“I’m guessing it would be crazy if I flew to California to kick her dad’s ass?”
My mother’s eyes were sad as she looked at me. “It wouldn’t be crazy, but I don’t think it would help. Unless Lucy cared for you to stir things up like that, it wouldn’t change anything,” she said softly.
“I could beat him the way he beat her,” I said my voice low, the anger vibrating through me.
My mother stepped to me, cupping my face in her hands as she looked up at me. “I love you. You were a good little boy, and you’re a good man. I completely understand why you might want to do that, but you need to let this be. Unless Lucy wants you to do that, just stay out of it,” she said, her hands sliding down to squeeze my shoulders before she stepped back.
Emotion and anger wound together in a fierce storm inside of me. Yet, I knew my mother was right. This was Lucy’s history, and I couldn’t storm into it like that. She moved here when she was a senior in high school, so it was over ten years ago now.
“How do I talk to Lucy about this?” I asked, looking to my mother.
My mother sipped her coffee, her gaze considering. “There’s a time and a place for everything, and you’ll know the time.”
I took another gulp of coffee, savoring the bitterness, just what I needed in this moment. I knew she was right. I would have to wait, and hopefully Lucy would tell me herself.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Levi
The following week, I walked up the porch steps, gratified to discover Lucy had arrived home before me. I had learned today my crew was scheduled for a rotation on a fire up in the Alaskan Interior that just wouldn’t quit. The winds had shifted again, sending the fire back in the direction of a cluster of Alaskan Native villages.
I wanted more time with Lucy before I left for what would probably be more than a week. Closing the door behind me, I looked over to see her standing at the kitchen counter with groceries scattered across it. She looked confused. My eyes flicked down to notice the distinctive blue brace was gone from her wrist. Kicking off my boots and hanging my jacket on a hook by the door, I walked straight to her, dipping my head and dropping a kiss along the side of her neck.
I couldn’t say why, but the last few days, she’d seemed easier around me, as if she was finally
letting down her guard.
“Your brace is gone,” I murmured as I slipped my arms around her, my hands resting on the soft curve of her belly.
Her eyes canted up to mine from the side. “Finally,” she said, a slight smile gracing her lips.
“Anything you need to worry about with it?” I asked
One of her shoulders shrugged against my chest. “Just to take it easy and not overdo it.”
“Ah, I’m sure you can handle that,” I replied with a chuckle.
She swatted at my chest with the back of her hand. “I definitely can!”
I scanned the collection of groceries on the counter. She hadn’t gone grocery shopping since my last observation about her interesting choice of groceries.
“What’s all this for?” I asked.
“I’m making dinner,” she announced firmly.
“Oh,” I said, trying to keep my concern out of my tone.
I glanced from the groceries to her, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Her gaze flicked up to mine, and she snagged her bottom lip with her teeth, her eyes glinting with humor.
I eyed what was scattered about on the counter, a collection of vegetables and some rice. “What are you making?” I finally asked.
“Chicken fajitas.” There was a long pause before she spoke again. “But I forgot the chicken,” she explained, a sheepish grin claiming her lips.
“Can’t really make chicken fajitas without the chicken,” I observed.
She shook her head with a sigh. “I don’t suppose I can.”
She turned in my arms. “I wanted to surprise you. Your mom told me you love chicken fajitas.”
When her eyes met mine with a flush blooming on her cheeks, my heart squeezed—hard—in my chest.
I was screwed. I’d fallen so in love with Lucy, it was all I could do not to blurt it out right now. But I had to be careful with her. She was skittish by nature. It meant so much that somehow she found out this was one of my favorite childhood meals and wanted to make it for me.
