by Brynne Asher
It’s then he scooches down and pulls me up at the same time to bring us eye to eye. His face is full of concern when he asks, “What are you worried about?”
“Well,” I keep on, thinking more bravery would be useful at this point. “I’m just worried about you. And well…me. This is strange, weird really, and you’re being really sweet with me…”
He looks at me now, not with concern but with curiosity, waiting for me to complete a sentence which I don’t because I’ve plum run out of bravery. He finally says, “Leigh, what are you trying to say?”
Bravery depleted, I scooch down further and stuff my face in his neck, a place I’ve come to love but also won’t let myself think about. I mutter into his throat as quick and as quiet as I can, “I’m just not ready for anything else and I’m worried about that for you, waiting on me to be ready, if I’ll ever be ready. I guess I’m worried about not being enough for you…if you know what I mean.”
There.
It’s done.
That’s when I feel his arms tighten around me. Then I feel his thigh that’s wedged in tight between my legs (another thing I have come to love but will ab-so-lute-ly not let myself think about for obvious reasons) press to scooch me back up. That scooch totally giving me tingles in between my legs, but I try really hard not to think about that either. When I finally drag my eyes up to his, I see something I wasn’t expecting.
He’s grinning. Big. But it isn’t really a grin, more like a private smile, like he has a secret he’s excited about. And through his private smile comes the words, “That’s the last thing I’m worried about, gem.”
I feel my brows draw together, because again, that’s weird. “You’re not?” I exclaim.
He doesn’t answer me. He pulls me in with his arms and presses his thigh even tighter in between my legs, making me moist, not to mention gasp, and he kisses me.
Intensely.
His intense kiss in addition to his big strong thigh pressing between my legs intensifies my tingles and I feel my nipples go hard. And effing hell, since I am pressed up against him with only his old thread bare t-shirt on with his thigh between my legs, I’m sure he felt my nipples and my moistness. But I can’t help it, my hands go to his hair and I hang on, kissing him back with everything I have. He’s the one that finally pulls back and when he does, my heart is racing and I feel his breath has quickened.
It’s then he answers me and he says through his breaths, “No, I’m not worried, sweetheart and you shouldn’t be, either. Although,” he pulls in air before finishing, “it is fun to think about.” He smiles the same smile at me, but this time it doesn’t seem so secret.
Needing my heart to slow down and completely out of bravery for the decade, I stuff my face back in his neck and mutter, “I’m tired.”
Tony has the nerve to chuckle and kisses my hair while saying, “Then you should go to sleep, gem.”
Oh my.
That was not the way I thought that would go.
But it’s done. One less thing to stress about. Phew.
“What do you want to do now?” Tony asks, pulling me out of my Tony memory I tell myself not think about, but I do. “Since you’re free and all,” he adds, grinning at me.
I fall back into the chair across from Tony’s desk in his office. This is something else new I’m trying to get used to. Preston was always controlling, my brain always has to do a double take when I get to make little choices like how I get to spend my day. I look over at Tony, who has moved in back of his desk now, arranging more papers and shutting down his computer. He’s wearing another great suit, this one dark navy, a periwinkle blue shirt with cuff links and a pale gold tie.
“Well, I think I want to go car shopping.”
Tony’s head jerks up and he asks, “Car shopping?”
“Yeah, you know, since I’m free and all,” I say sarcastically.
Smiling at me, he asks, “Can I come with you?”
This is another sweet thing Tony does. Although he’s made himself a fixture in my life, he goes out of his way to not be controlling over me. Other than the sleeping together thing, that is. He’s never seems to give me a choice about that, but I’m not complaining.
Pressing my lips together, I narrow my eyes and shrug my shoulders. He asks further, “What? You don’t want me to come?”
“No, it’s not that,” I look out his office window. “I just don’t want you to…um,” I look back at him to finish, “throw a fit.”
Pulling his brows together, he stops what he’s doing at his desk and stands up straight. Looking a little affronted, he asks, “Why would I throw a fit?”
“You might not, but I have a feeling you will.”
“I’m not five, Leigh. I don’t throw fits. Follow me home, I’ll change and we’ll go together. How about that? I promise you, no fits will be thrown,” he says sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.
“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that,” I say smiling. He smiles back and I know there’s no way he’s going to keep his promise.
*****
Fucking-A. I think I might throw a fit.
“I’m not sitting in the back,” I say to Brendon, the car salesman, who’s holding the front seat up for me and waiting for me to climb into the back, which I am abso-fucking-lutely not going to do.
“It’ll just be for a little while, then we can pull over and all switch around. I’d like to sit up front with her and show her around the controls as she test drives,” Brendon responds with a surly smile.
I’m sure he’d like to show Leigh around. I’m positive he’d like to do more than that with Leigh. He was all over us like scum on a pond when I pulled in driving Leigh’s two seater BMW. But I know his scum to our pond has more to do with the way he keeps raking his eyes over Leigh than it has to do with selling her a clown car. I’m sure he wants to sit close to her in the front seat, which is the only way you can sit next someone in a damn clown car.
“Not gonna happen,” I bite out and look over the clown car at Leigh, who’s biting her lip to keep from laughing. Probably at me because she can tell I’m about to throw a fit. “It’s small enough, I’m pretty sure you can talk her through the controls from the backseat. Not to mention, it’s a car, not the space shuttle. I’m sure she can figure out the controls on her own.”
Brendon glares at me out of the corner of his eye before begrudgingly climbing in the back of the ridiculous VW Beetle we are about to test drive. I look back over the car at Leigh, who looks like she’s having a lot of fun and not able to bite back her giggles any longer. That look on her face almost makes me feel better about climbing into this car. She looks more like the old Leigh I remember. I grin back at her as I throw back the front seat, hoping to slam it into the asshole car salesman who is now in the back but I’d rather he be in the miniature trunk.
I announce with zero enthusiasm, “Climb in sweetheart. Let’s give her a go.” She giggles again as we climb in to the confined space. I move my seat back as far as it would go, hitting Brendon’s knees. I smile to myself and say, “Fire her up.”
Starting the car and pulling out of the dealership, Leigh navigates the clown car through traffic. I feel the salesman move through our front seats, leaning into Leigh pointing out the features of the car. Which are the same damn features on all cars.
I move around in my small space and suggest, “You should buckle up.”
“I’m fine,” he says without giving me a glance.
“Brendon,” I bite out and wait until he looks over to me. I narrow my eyes and say, “You should buckle up. It’s the law. I’m an attorney, I should know.”
He huffs a lungful of air at me before he sits back to buckle up. I lean back in my seat and try to enjoy the miserable ride.
Looking over at Leigh, who looks like she’s having fun and not just with the test drive but also my exchange with Brendon, I ask, “Are you sure you don’t want something bigger?”
“This is bigger than my BMW,” she answers
, keeping her eyes on the road.
“True,” I say. “But I was thinking you’d want to move to at least a four door. This is hardly what I would consider bigger.”
That’s when Brendon starts to point out the trunk space, an outlet for her iPod and the vanity mirror. Wanting to get his attention off Leigh, I ask, “What’s the safety rating?”
“Top in its Class,” Brendon answers.
“For compact cars,” I add.
“Well, yes. That is its Class,” he answers.
“Gem, maybe you should think about a different Class of cars. Go for a crossover, a small SUV?” I suggest.
“Well,” she says hesitantly, “I’ve always wanted one of these.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“They’re cute. And they seem like a happy little car. It’s not pretentious, it’s not snooty, it’s not even in your face. It just seems happy,” she explains her ridiculous assessment of the clown car.
“It seems happy?” I ask for clarification.
She doesn’t answer me, but pulls into a grocery store parking lot, and like she was meant to drive a clown car, expertly parks.
I see her pull in a breath but she doesn’t say anything, continuing to stare out the windshield. I call for her, “Leigh?”
She turns to look at me but stays quiet as she pulls her lip into her teeth.
I say softly, “Gem, come here.” I put my hand up to her cheek to close the infinitesimal distance between us in this ridiculously small space. I look in to her hesitant eyes and ask, “Does this car make you happy?”
“Yes,” she whispers back.
Not wanting anything more than for her to be happy, I say, “You clearly don’t need my permission, but will you promise me you’ll always wear your seatbelt?”
Giving me a small smile while rolling her eyes and shaking her head making me think she thinks I’m ridiculous, she says, “Yes, of course, Tony. I always wear my seatbelt.”
Because she’s close and I can’t help it, and because I want to show Brendon she’s mine and to stay the fuck away from her, I pull her in for a slow kiss. Finishing the kiss sooner than I want to, I pull back but don’t let go of her face and ask with a plea in my voice, “Are you sure about the color? It’s baby blue.”
“It’s Denim Blue,” Brendon breaks into our moment from the back seat.
I move slightly to give him a dirty look at the time I hear Leigh say, “No, it’s the color of the sky. I love it.”
Looking back at her I grin while shaking my own head and kiss her quick, finally letting her go. We all settle back in as she takes off again in her new clown car. I decide to give a warning to all passengers and say, “All right, sweetheart. But if you don’t get a good trade, we’re going to another dealership. I don’t care if I have to drive you to Kansas City or Des Moines.”
I hear the beautiful sound of Leigh giggle from beside me at the same time I hear a frustrated huff of air from Brendon behind me. I look out the window as she drives us back to the dealership so I can negotiate her trade for her. She can drive it for a while, but then I’ll find something bigger she likes. There’s no fucking way I’m allowing any child of mine to ride in this clown car.
Chapter 8 - You’re Coming Back To Me
I look beyond my suitcase lying in front of me on my bed at Gabby’s to see Tony standing on the opposite side of the bed. His arms are crossed and he’s wearing track pants with a Final Four t-shirt, but his very unhappy almost black eyes are directed at me. He’s not really standing, it’s more like he’s towering and his hair is rustled from pulling his hands through it out of frustration.
Frustration stemmed from me. But not really me-me. From me leaving for the weekend.
“It’s a bachelorette weekend getaway. It’s going to be a three day, two night bachelorette party, Tony. It’s not like I can miss it, I’m her maid of honor. And you definitely cannot come. I’ll be fine,” I explain for about the twentieth time, no exaggeration.
“What if you dream?” he bites out, for the twenty first time, no exaggeration.
I throw in my swimsuit cover-up and the last pair of sandals I can squeeze in and look over to him. He’s pissed, but he’s pissed because he’s worried. I’ve gotten to know him well enough over the past couple of months to know that.
I feel like I know him better than I know anyone as our weird, whatever-this-is-between-us, moves forward. And somehow, whatever-this-is gets better by the day and I find myself not remembering what it was like being alone. All those years with Preston I felt alone. But not anymore. I thought I would want nothing more than to be alone after living my life with Preston, but Tony hasn’t allowed it. As much as I don’t want to think about it, deep down I know I don’t want to be alone because being with Tony has been the best I’ve ever known.
But none of this makes Tony any less pissed at the moment.
Tomorrow is Friday and I fly out with Gabby, our friends Regan, Lily and a gaggle of Carpino women. We’re flying into Phoenix where Jude’s mom lives. She has arranged a full weekend of fun and girl time at an all-inclusive spa in Sedona. Preston and I went on some nice trips during our miserable marriage, but they were stressful and hard to enjoy with him. When I was younger, Gabby’s parents took me on a couple vacations, but other than that I haven’t traveled much. My mom could barely afford fast food, let alone a vacation because she spent most of her meager income on cigarettes and booze. I’m looking forward to massages, facials, pool time and fun with my friends and Gabby’s family.
“Tony,” I start quietly, because I guess I need to explain this differently than I have the previous twenty times. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamt? Had nightmares? I’ve had them a long time. Even before I lost,” my breath catches because I still can’t bring myself to talk about the baby I lost, “well, what I lost. They were different then, not as often, but that doesn’t mean I’m not used to it. I’ll be fine for two nights.”
“You’ve only had three since you’ve been with me,” he reminds me of something I already know.
I give him a small smile and remind him of his words months ago the first time he sauntered into my bed, “I know. Maybe we should consider it an experiment.”
He huffs a frustrated lung full of air, drops his arms but pulls his hand through his hair again. After looking at me, no, glaring at me for long moments he strangely demands, “You’re coming back to me.”
I frown back at him because I have no idea what he means and ask, “What are you talking about?”
“I have no desire to experiment what you do away from me, gem. As much I hope you never have another nightmare for the rest of your life, if you have dreamless sleep away from me, you’re still coming back to me,” he stresses, more frustrated than ever.
“Honey,” I whisper and see his eyes flash.
He’s worried I won’t need him or want him if I don’t dream without him. If I’m truthful with myself, I’m not worried about dreaming without him, I’m more worried I won’t be able to sleep without him. He’s done so much for me over the past few months. No, he’s done everything for me over the past few months and it’s time for me to give back. I need to give him something, even if it’s only to reassure him I won’t break my promise I made on New Year’s Eve. I have to come back to him, the thought of not coming back to him is painful and after the last month, I don’t think I could take it.
With his almost black eyes burning into me, I move around the bed and go straight to him. I put my hands flat to his abs, being careful for his almost healed wound on his left side, moving them up over his rock hard chest. Letting my eyes follow their trail, I slide my hands up the sides of his neck and into his lush hair. Looking into his eyes, eyes that are now on fire burning into mine, I reach up on my toes to do something I’ve never done before and that’s kiss him first.
I feel his arms come around me, one in my hair and one very low to my back, pulling me in tight. I kiss him
for about three seconds before he takes over completely and his hand at my back dips down and under his own t-shirt I’m wearing to run his hand up my bare back pulling me even closer. His hand grazes down my side and I feel hot tingles in their wake where he barely runs his fingers down the side of my breast. I gasp against his lips and his other hand immediately goes to my bottom over my panties, squeezing and pressing me to him.
I melt. I can’t help it. I’ve never had someone’s touch feel so good on me. Not like this. Never like this.
With his hand on my bottom, I feel us turning and we go down, Tony with his back to the bed and me on top of him. Not giving me a second to think about our new position, he slides his hands down the backs of my thighs, yanking my knees up roughly to straddle him. I feel him rock hard between my legs and I can’t help but press down. I don’t just hear but feel him moan into my mouth as I grind into him. I pull my head up to look down. His eyes are hooded and hot. Pulling his hands up to my face, he drags me back to his mouth as his hips surge up and I feel it on my clit, creating a burn that’s never felt so hot leaving me wanting everything. His hands start moving down my back and I feel him dip into my panties to cup my bottom, making me moan into his mouth as I rock against him harder.
Suddenly, all these months being with him, sleeping beside him, being wrapped up in his beautiful body every night has finally taken its toll. I feel like my body has woken up from a coma after months of care and ministrations from Tony. Every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s connected to the heat between my legs where I want him like I’ve never wanted anything before. No, not want. I need him.
“Gem,” he whispers against my lips. “Sweetheart, I need to touch you.”
To answer him I grind down again on his rock hard shaft, and oh my, does that feel good. He rolls flipping me to my back and his mouth hits mine again at the same time his hand dips straight into my panties. His fingers slide through me making my hips jerk immediately. His fingers do a slow lazy circle around my clit, making me gasp against his mouth. Running his fingers lightly through me again, I feel how slick I am.
