Pieces of Me

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Pieces of Me Page 19

by Ann Garner


  Through a haze I realize he has pulled away from me, but before I can protest he is back, his jeans gone. His lips slide up the side of my body, settling on my neck, right below my ear.

  “You okay?”

  I want to tell him yes, want to ask how he thinks I can be anything else, but I can’t find the words so I nod my head instead.

  “Good.”

  He shifts above me, one hand on either side of my head as he holds his body above mine. My head is turned to the right, watching the play of muscle in his arms as they hold his weight over me.

  “Look at me, Delaney.”

  His voice is whisper soft, rough with desire and something else that causes the heat to flare to life again inside of me. My eyes flick up, meeting his.

  “Keep your eyes on me,” he says softly, shifting until his body is lined up perfectly with mine. “I want you to watch me, to see me.”

  My lips go slack as I feel the tip of him right at my entrance. There is no fear, no hesitation on my end as I lift my hips up to take him in.

  As he slides in fully for the first time he whispers, “I love you, Delaney.”

  And then there is no air left for words as he finds a rhythm, moving in and out, building another fire inside of me that burns even hotter than the first, until it is the only thing there is. The weight of his body over mine, inside of mine, the heavy sound of our breathing mixing together.

  I feel myself shatter again just moments before he does, and the feeling is so exquisite that it steals my breath.

  “I love you,” he breaths into the crook of my neck, where his head has dropped. My hands had settled on his hips, digging into the skin there as he had moved.

  I tilt my head, brushing my lips over the arm that lays there. I will never be able to explain exactly what he has done for me, what he has given me back. I wish I had the words to tell him how I feel. He was the last piece that I needed to put myself back together.

  Epilogue

  “Get your lazy asses out of bed. Somebody needs to make us breakfast.”

  I feel Cole shift next to me, but instead of rolling over to get out of bed, he turns into me, arms wrapping around my waist to pull me back into the warmth of his body. I wiggle back against him, trying to get even closer, and smile at the feel of his arousal between us.

  “Oh, no. No morning nookie. I’m starving.”

  One of his hands slides up from my waist, inching towards my breast as he says, “Then I suggest you either learn how to cook or stock up on cereal, Grace.”

  I stifle a laugh, biting my lip to keep it from coming out. His fingers trace just under the edge of my breast, a particularly sensitive area for me, and the laugh nearly escapes as a moan. I try to move even further into him.

  “I cannot tell you exactly how gross this is,” Grace mutters from the doorway.

  “Then get lost,” Cole suggests, his lips nuzzling against my neck. I almost forget she’s standing there when his other hand starts to move down my body. I stretch out against him, giving full reign of every inch of my skin to his incredibly talented fingers.

  “I never should have moved in here.” Grace groans, right before shutting my bedroom door. Seconds later the entire apartment is drowning in music, and I can’t stop the laugh that escapes.

  “Are we really that loud?” I ask, turning over in the bed so I’m now facing him. I let my fingers run over the scruff of hair on his chin, delighting in the contrast to the smoothness that is usually there.

  He smiles. “We can certainly give it a shot this morning if you’d like.”

  One hand slips between my legs, parting my thighs so he can slide his fingers over the slick skin he finds there. My breath hitches, my fingers digging into the skin of his forearms as he starts a lazy pace of moving those fingers in and out of my body.

  “You’re biting your lip,” he murmurs, moving closer so his mouth can skim across my jaw. “You know what that does to me.”

  “I can feel what it does to you.”

  He has hardened even more between us as I move my lower lip in between my teeth. I roll my body into his until he is sprawled on his back and I can slither over his body. His eyes are closed, his head tilted back, and I lift up and then settle back down so he slips inside of me.

  It takes only seconds to find a rhythm that pushes us both over the edge.

  “I love waking up with you,” he says, brushing my hair back over my shoulders. “Absolute best part of the day.”

  Laughing I roll out of the bed. “Well, I’m done with you now, handsome, time to get up.”

  “I feel so used.”

  An hour later I step out of my room pulling my hair up into a high pony tail while I make my way down the hall and into the kitchen. Grace has turned the music down significantly, and I can hear her and Grant talking in the living room.

  Grace had shown up the last day of spring break and asked to take me to dinner. It hadn’t taken long for me to realize that she wasn’t angry with me; she was hurt.

  It had started out as anger. She’d been pissed that I had hurt Cole, and heartbroken that I seemed to throw our friendship away like it was nothing. But once she had known the truth, it had been hurt that I hadn’t felt like I could tell her, that I didn’t trust her or our friendship enough to be honest and open.

  Then she’d told me she was moving in with me.

  “Hey, Grace, are you still hungry? I can make some pancakes,” I ask, moving into the kitchen and opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water.

  “Delaney.”

  I freeze, my hand stilling on the bottle, at the sound of my father’s voice calling my name. When I turn around he is standing nervously in the living room.

  Grace shoots me an apologetic look and mouths the words “Want me to stay?” I discretely shake my head no, and watch as she moves out of the room, dragging Grant with her down the hall to her room.

  She gives my arm a gentle squeeze on her way past, a simple sign of support that means more than I’ll ever be able to tell her.

  My father looks like he’s aged ten years in the short amount of time that I’ve been gone, to the point that I almost don’t recognize the old man standing in front of me.

  His hair is disheveled, which I have never seen before, and he’s dressed down for him. Khaki pants, a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I’ve only ever seen him in designer three piece suits.

  “I, ah, didn’t realize you had roommates.” He tucks his hands in the pockets of his pants.

  I nod my head dumbly. “Yes, Grace just moved when the spring semester ended. I didn’t even think to check with you. Is it a problem?”

  “Of course not. I’m glad you’re not alone.”

  I hadn’t told my parents anything about Cole, so I wince when I hear the door to my bedroom open and Cole moving down the hall.

  “Hey, babe, have you seen my wallet?” His strokes his hand across my back as he moves past me into the kitchen. “You okay?” he asks, noting how tense my body is.

  “Cole, I’d like to introduce you to my father, Alexander Roberts.”

  Cole lifts his head, his eyes moving to the living room where my father is still standing, a look of shock settling on his face as he studies Cole.

  I clear my throat before saying, “Dad, this is Cole Marsh. My boyfriend.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

  I wonder briefly if my dad hears the tension in Cole’s voice like I do. Cole doesn’t understand how my parents had let me slip away so easily from them. It’s hard to explain to someone with parents like Tom and Clare Marsh.

  I reach back and lock my hand around Cole’s before moving into the living room, dragging him with me. I’m not sure what has brought my father here, but I’m not facing it alone.

  “I wasn’t expecting you, Dad.”

  Like I was never ever expecting him to show up at all. Ever.

  “There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

  “And y
ou couldn’t call?”

  Keeping my hand locked in Coles’ I sink down on the couch. I watch my father intently; waiting for him to tell me whatever it is that had him flying all the way across the country to tell me face to face. “Is everything okay with Mom?”

  “She’s fine. She’s at home, resting.”

  Which is code for she’s either drunk, or convinced that she’s dying of some mysterious ailment, maybe both.

  He settles on the little reading chair across from the couch, dropping his forearms across his knees with a heavy sigh. He immediately shifts again, leaning back in the chair and running a hand through his hair, messing it up even more.

  “Would it be better if we were alone?” His gaze flicks from Cole and the back to me.

  “Anything you need to say to me you can say in front of Cole.” I nervously lick my lips. “He knows everything.”

  His eyes widen, and I watch as he once again moves forward in the chair, his arms dropping back against his knees. He rubs one hand down his face and when he looks back up at me he looks on the verge of tears.

  “Robert Thomas is dead.”

  I feel Cole stiffen next to me, but I just stare at my father blankly, unsure of how I’m supposed to respond. How I’m supposed to feel, really.

  I had pictured his death a thousand different times, in a thousand different ways. For months his death had been the only thing I could focus on. And now that it had happened I didn’t feel anything at all.

  “I wanted to tell you in person.” My gaze jerks back to my father, still sitting in the tiny reading chair, watching me carefully like he is afraid I am going to break.

  But I’m not. Maybe I would have in the past, correction; I definitely would have fallen apart in the past. But I wasn’t the same person I had been even three months ago.

  My father is studying me so carefully that I want to squirm under his gaze. After a few minutes of watching me a sad smile comes across his face. “You look good, Delaney. Happy.”

  “I am,” I say without hesitation. Because I am deliriously happy. My gaze automatically turns to Cole.

  “I’m happier than I ever thought I would be again.”

  “I’m glad. I wish,” he swallows, “I wish I had known how to give you that smile again. I let you down, on so many levels. I didn’t protect you. Worse than that, I brought him into our lives, into our home.”

  He blamed himself. How had I never seen that before? Is that why he had shut himself off from me? Because he felt guilty?

  “Oh, Daddy, it wasn’t your fault.”

  His eyes shoot up, meeting mine. “I couldn’t do anything. When we found out you were gone. All this money I had spent my entire adult life focused on accumulating, and none of it meant shit when you were gone. It couldn’t help me get you back.” His hands rake through his hair again. “And then they found you, but you weren’t you anymore. You weren’t my little girl.”

  He shoots to his feet, shoving his hands in his pocket again.

  “I didn’t know how to help you. When you wanted to move three thousand miles away for school, it was the first thing you had asked for since….well, since. I would have given you anything you asked, and the only thing you asked was to get away. So I let you go.”

  “Coming here is the best decision I ever made.”

  That sad smile plays across his face again. “I can see that.”

  “I never blamed you,” I whisper. “Not once. And I appreciate that you understood why I couldn’t stay there. But I wish you had tried harder to hold onto me.”

  “Me too.”

  “But it’s not too late to start now.” I squeeze Cole’s hand again. “That’s one of the biggest things I’ve learned in the last few months. Sometimes second chances are even better than the first.”

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Epilogue

 

 

 


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