by Candi Wall
“Ian?”
He stopped kissing her neck and met her gaze, but he didn’t stop the slow, sensual pace. “What’s wrong?” He braced himself on his elbow and stroked into her.
“Nothing.” She reached up to touch his goatee. “This just feels different.”
He chuckled and shifted his hips. “That’s because it is. I want us to say goodbye in the only way we can. I want you to come for me, over and over. I want these last few hours to be branded in our heads so we can remember every moment we had when real life sucks the life out of us.”
While he talked, he continued to make love to her. It was heartbreaking and erotic at once. She wished she could tell him she’d remember every moment, but she didn’t think she could reveal her heart like that after she’d fucked up so badly earlier. Instead, she forced a smile. “I promise these memories will get me through any number of long nights and shitty days.”
“Good.” He stopped moving and framed her face, his body weight pressing her deep into his bed until she was surrounded by his scent, his heat and his touch. “That’s good, Elizabeth.”
Then he was moving again.
God love ’im. He kept at it. His cock stayed hard, his fingers and mouth working their magic. Best of all, he asked where and what felt best. She couldn’t even generalize and say it all felt good. He wanted specifics and made her participate.
At some point she found herself mindlessly following his instructions as he withdrew and settled his mouth between her legs. Then he was licking her. His tongue slithering over her clit, his lips sucking and tasting as he groaned against her flesh. Faster and faster until she was gripping the sheets, her back bowed as the second orgasm crawled up her spine with spike-nailed talons.
“Fuck yes,” he breathed against her pussy, lapping and drinking her up. “That’s what I want.”
It was pleasure and pain. It was too much. Bucking away, she shimmied higher onto the bed and pushed at his shoulder. “No. Stop. It’s…too…much.”
He shook his head and eased up her body for a scorching kiss. His lips were hot and wet, musky with her scent. Between kisses, he pressed her back down on the bed and entered her still-sensitive body. “I want one more.”
“One more,” she parroted. “You’re insane.”
“Yes.” His smile was devilish. “This time when you come, I’m coming with you.”
Liz knew she probably looked like a fucking owl, but she couldn’t shake the shock. Again? Seriously. Twice was euphoric. Three would give her an aneurysm. “Ian… There’s no way I’m getting there again. Not without a break.”
He looked down between their bodies and smiled. “We’ll see.”
And he did. He worked at it like a champ, but her body just couldn’t take anything more. She wasn’t sure what he was determined to prove, but whatever it was, she didn’t need it. His touches and each stroke of his cock were wonderful, but she was satisfied. She didn’t need or want more, and she refused to fall back on a fake orgasm just to pacify him. She’d never pretended before, and there was no way she was going to now. He didn’t have anything to prove, so if his brain was locked on the triple-threat night, she was going to change it.
She wanted his pleasure, wanted to know she’d given him something close to what he’d given her. Giving him a gentle push so that she could meet his gaze, she smiled. “My turn.”
Before he could really respond, or argue, as the sudden scrunching of his brows indicated, she rolled him to his back and straddled his hips. Kissing him hard, she eased over him, taking him inside her again and riding him slow and steady. They’d had sex enough times that she was über-aware of his hot spots, of what turned him on most, and she focused on each in turn. She started by threading her fingers into his hair. The slight tug she gave had him moaning.
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” she asked innocently. “I think you used all weapons available to get me off twice. All’s fair.”
His hands slid up the outsides of her thighs, guiding her with a bit of pressure. “I couldn’t fight you if I wanted to.”
“Good.”
She tightened her grip and leaned close to let her breasts brush his chest. Holding him so she could kiss him deeply, she picked up the pace. She nipped along his jaw from his sexy goatee to his ear. He stiffened slightly and she bit back a laugh. He knew where she was going. It wasn’t his ear exactly, it was the smooth patch of skin from right behind his ear down to his collar. Breathing over his ear, she nuzzled the skin, easing down the length of muscle with a featherlight touch that had him bucking beneath her.
The scent of his skin filled her, his heat and the physical exertion making the room so hot she slashed the clinging sheets and blankets away. Keeping him deep inside her, she sat back. Shifting her hips back and forth slowly, she trailed her fingers down his chest and midsection, enjoying the play of muscles. The soft lighting cast shadows over his damp skin, highlighting the smooth skin and taut lines of his stomach and chest. She loved the way his body tightened, his nipples pebble hard. His jaw flexed, and he looked down at their connection and growled.
“You’re killing me, Elizabeth.”
Only he called her Elizabeth. Each time he said it, she felt like a different person than the inhibited, shy Liz she’d known all her life. Under his touch, she’d become a new woman. Seemingly without effort, he’d obliterated every self-conscious doubt and insecurity she’d had about herself both sexually and as a woman who deserved to enjoy this.
“What a way to go out, huh?” Placing her hands on his chest, she shifted her feet up next to his thighs until she squatted over him. The position opened her even more and the extra depth of his cock was sinful.
He groaned in response, grasping her hips to guide her up and down in long, harsh strokes. “Fuck me,” he begged.
And she did. How could she not? There was something incredibly sexy about making Ian lose it. The way he moaned and cursed was hot. So was the way he tensed, his hips jerking upward to slam into her as deep as he could. The dominating part of him was still in residence because he tried to touch her clit. She shoved his hands away and ultimately had to pin his hands at his sides.
That was his undoing. A little telltale reaction she wished she had more time to play with. It saddened her that she’d never be able to act on that weakness, but she would settle for this moment, for his rough demand and sinful pleading that she not stop.
Having him whisper over and over that he was going to come was as erotic as it could get, and when he came, hard and vicious and with a throaty, deep curse, she smiled. Nothing would ever compare to these few weeks and this moment.
She slid back to her knees, keeping him inside her so she could shift and tease like he’d done to her after her orgasm. After a long moment, he rolled her to her back and eased out of her. He didn’t pull away though. He held her, his elbows braced on the bed next to her head as he stared down at her, his breathing slowly regulating.
“That was amazing.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.
She hugged him close, trying to hide the sudden sting of tears. “I had a good teacher.”
He chuckled and pulled back. “No. I was just lucky enough to come along at a time when you were ready to break out of that good-girl shell.”
“Lucky you.” She could not handle sappy right now. She’d break into a million pieces. “Lucky me.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head and looked out the plane window. “Definitely lucky. Now it’s all going to change. I wish…”
“Mr. Malcolm, we’ll be landing in ten minutes.”
Whatever wish he’d been ready to share was forgotten. Their eyes met. It was time for goodbye.
Chapter Sixteen
Saying goodbye should have been simple after what they’d shared, but Ian knew it wouldn’t be.
He’d never met someone as
amazing as Elizabeth, and letting her walk off his plane was a knife to the chest he never expected. He watched her get dressed with a mixture of pride and amazement. Gone was the sexually nervous woman he’d first made love to. In her place was the softest, sweetest sexual dynamo he’d ever met.
She ran her hands through her hair in what must have been an effort to tame the mess of waves. It didn’t do a bit of good, but he memorized her half smile and shrug. Disheveled looked damn good on her.
“Guess I’ll just pin it,” she said when she noticed him watching.
“You look amazing.” He scooted off the bed and pulled his pants on. The moment he was done, he shoved his arms into his rumpled shirt. Damn this sucked. They’d stayed in bed, kissing and touching, and ignoring the captain’s orders to return to their seats and buckle for landing. When the jet had taxied to a stop, he’d crushed her close. Now, the same need overtook him and he pulled her in tight against him.
He’d never considered himself a clingy person. Hell, relationships came and went. Some lasted longer than others, but going through the crazy ride of a relationship with Jimmy had put him off of anything serious or close to emotional. Somehow, Elizabeth had wrapped her sweet little self around him and dug in some roots.
He couldn’t imagine a night without her, let alone the rest of his life. Fuck. This was supposed to be simple. Win-win for both of them. She got what she needed, he got what he needed. So why did the landing tie his guts in knots? “I’m going to miss you.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and hugged him tight. “I’ll miss you too, but I know we’ll see each other again.”
“We will?” The certainty in her eyes surprised him. “How do you figure?”
She pulled away and backed toward the door. “You still owe me an interview with Cash.”
She was right. He’d forgotten in the craziness of Jimmy’s death. “I’ll set it up as soon as I can manage it.”
“I know you will.”
“Do you still want my story?”
“Unless you promised it to my boss, I don’t need it.”
“I didn’t.” He’d offered nothing more than an exclusive look into the fashion world and to compensate him for her wages and her boss had jumped. “My interview was just incentive to get you to agree.”
“Then your story is safe with me. I don’t want to share you with the world anyway.”
“I knew I could trust you.” It was a shitty response, but it was all he could offer.
Her eyes were sad, and she grasped the door handle tightly. “Good luck with Jimmy’s family. I’ll be thinking of you. You can call me if you need to talk, but do me a favor? Don’t come out with me. I’m doing my best not to get all emotional. We say goodbye for now, right here. I want to walk away without losing it. Okay?”
Ian nodded, his throat tight. “Thanks for…everything. For being you and making my life fun for a little while.”
“It was fun, wasn’t it?” She pulled the door open.
“Fun doesn’t scratch the surface.” He gripped his hands into fists at his sides. “Goodbye for now, Elizabeth.”
“Goodbye for now, New York.”
Then she was gone.
Ian was a mess. He understood what he had to do, for her. Maybe even for himself. She’d made it easy. But it didn’t feel easy. He forced himself not to watch her leave and managed a whole minute before the window drew him.
Flipping off the cabin lights, he watched as shadows traveled through the frosted glass hall into the airport. Through the larger, clear windows of the airport, he could see an older woman waiting. She paced nervously, her hands wringing the straps of her oversized purse. Occasionally, she patted her white hair or adjusted her glasses. He had no doubt this was Mama.
The moment Elizabeth stepped into the room, the woman’s features lit up. She rushed forward and crushed Elizabeth in a huge hug, her smile so big he felt it as though he’d walked into her hug.
Elizabeth kissed her and pulled her over to the window.
Ian stepped back quickly. He didn’t want her to know he was watching, then felt stupid because he’d already turned off the lights. She pointed to his jet and her mama jabbered away at a million miles an hour. Elizabeth nodded and spoke to her, but he watched the way she looked out the window. Closing her eyes, she pressed a hand against the glass. After a long moment, she opened them again and let her mother lead her away.
He heard it, though. Her silent goodbye. Felt it right to his toes. Goodbye, Elizabeth.
Then she was gone. The captain said something about refueling and takeoff, but Ian sank down to the edge of his bed. Her scent still lingered in the sheets.
Getting her out of his head wasn’t going to be easy, but that was what he was going to do. They had separate lives. Too different. He had to get his shit together and get back to normal.
The only way he’d do that was to tie up loose ends. First, Jimmy’s funeral. Second, Cash’s interview. Third…he had to go back to Delhi.
Liz woke up to the scent of home fries, bacon and maple syrup.
Nothing screamed welcome home like a great big breakfast cooked by a loving Mama. She smiled and rolled over. It was good to be home. As it had every morning, her smile faltered. She missed Ian more with every passing day.
It’d had been over a week since she’d been home, and Mama seemed to be determined to put back on the weight she swore Liz lost while she’d been off esplorin’ the planet.
If Mama knew the real extent of her daughter’s calorie-burning activities, she’d probably spend a week in church asking the Lord to save her possessed daughter.
Rolling over to face the window, Liz tucked her pillow in close and tried to recall Ian’s scent. It was easy and difficult at once. She could recall it in her memory, but she wished she’d stolen one of his shirts. Or stolen him.
Her bed and life had never been so empty. Texas was where she wanted to be. It was her life. Even as much as she’d enjoyed flitting around the world with Ian, she’d longed for the scent of honeysuckle. She’d missed the waves from friendly faces she’d known since birth, and dirt roads and farmland. She’d missed her comfy bed and the hand-quilted bedspread Gram had made her.
But she missed Ian too.
Tears erupted as they did most mornings, and she pulled her pillow close.
“Wasting tears again?”
Mama’s voice broke through her misery and Liz sniffled. “I’m not wasting them, Mama. They’re for someone worth them.”
She’d grown up on Mama’s funny sayings and homegrown ways. Wasting tears was Mama’s pet peeve.
“I sure hope so.” Her face was pinched with concern. “Don’ like seeing my baby hurtin’.”
“I ain’t hurtin’. Not like you think.” Liz rolled over and sat up on the edge of her bed. “I’m saying goodbye to someone I worry about.”
Mama watched her closely. “Worry tears are good uns.”
Liz had never been good at hiding much from Mama, so she didn’t even bother to try. Instead, she braced for Mama’s unless moment. Oddly enough, it didn’t come.
Seizing the reprieve, she smiled. “I’m fine, and I’m sure my friend will be fine as well. He has a lot on his plate, so put him in your prayers.”
Okay, so she did feel a tad bit shitty for leaning on her mother’s love for praying for others, but a girl had to do what she had to do with a well-intentioned Mama in the room ready to fight for her baby. It would have been easy if she could have described the mash-up of wanting her Texas home and city Ian. But she couldn’t find an option. So she wasn’t going to try.
She was going to work as she always had. When she laid her head down at night, she could lose herself in heated memories, hot touches and wishes of what-could-be’s. In the light of day, she would go back to where she was supposed to be.
“So whatcha got cookin’
?”
Mama latched on to food talk like she did God and prayer. “Griddle cakes and spiced-up fries. Just like you like ’em.”
Liz forced herself to move. She had to go on. She’d put one foot in front of the other and sing her keep on keepin’ on song with the best of them. Today would be her first day back at the newspaper. She could have taken another week and a half. Her boss wasn’t expecting her back until then. As good as more ice cream, pajamas and wallowing sounded, she needed to get back to her life. She’d also scheduled her first back-in-Texas reading at the local hospital.
The day was full, and she needed to get her shit together. She hadn’t heard from Ian, and she wasn’t surprised. She’d seen the national announcements in fashion magazines, blogs and news. Ian was back in the swing of things. She’d seen his pale visage and handsome features drawn on every report. The media reported his every move like he was a celebrity.
And she’d watched, taped or searched for his interviews online. Jimmy’s funeral had been beautiful. Ian had delivered a heart-tugging eulogy. Then he was off to another show, another exotic site.
Ian’s world went on. Hers needed to as well.
Chapter Seventeen
Ian stared at Cain. “Wait. What?”
His lifelong friend swirled the untouched brandy in his glass after dropping the bomb that he was leaving.
“It’s a bodyguard gig for some model.” Cain shrugged. “You know me. Not usually my thing, but the money is incredible. Almost as good as what you pay, and…”
He paused in a way that made Ian sit forward. “And what?”
“I can’t pass it up.” Cain set his glass on the table and laced his fingers together. “It’s a good opportunity. You don’t need me anymore anyway. You haven’t for a while. I can’t keep following you around and drawing a check without doing a job. It’s just not me. Besides, Texas isn’t my thing at all.”
