Unexpected Gift

by Lively, R. S.

  The thought of another man touching her skin makes my blood boil. “Whose shirt?” I grunt, gripping the handle of the coffee pot with more force than necessary. I pour the rich, dark brew in my mug, and imagine tossing it on the man that laid in her bed—if he is here.

  “Why? What’s it to you?”

  Her attitude makes my cock twitch. “You know what it is to me.”

  “I really don’t.” She tucks a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear and puts the grease-popping bacon on a plate covered with a paper towel. Molly makes sure not to turn around and look at me. Instead, she continues to place more bacon in the scorching pan.

  “Yes, you do.” The mug in my grasp slams down on the counter and coffee spills on my hand, but I ignore it. The pain isn’t near as painful as the thought of another man touching her.

  “Caden, stop. Nothing is going on here. This shirt... and whomever it belongs to... it isn’t any of your business. Let it go.”

  I wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug, making her spin right into my arms. Her hands land on my chest. Her fingers curl over my pecs gently, so as to not press into my skin. “Caden.” Her voice trembles. She doesn’t try to pull away, but she doesn’t try to come closer either.

  I lay my hand against the pulse of her throat, rubbing my thumb against her jaw. She gulps, her eyes lowering and taking in the amount of clothes I lack. “Look at me, Molly.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” I twist her hair around my fingers.

  “Because it isn’t a good idea.”

  “Is it because that is another man’s shirt?”

  She removes herself from my embrace and takes a step back. “No, it isn’t the shirt of another man. I don’t understand why you suddenly care.”

  “You have got to be kidding me right now, Molly.” I run my fingers through my hair in frustration. “You are driving me nuts. You know why I care. You know why I don’t want that to be another man’s shirt. This"—I gesture between us— “this has been building for years. Hell, before we even knew it.”

  “No.”

  “Yes!” I slam my fist against the counter, making the canisters shake. “You are maddening!” I yell, but my cock still responds to her—it doesn’t care about the circumstances.

  “I’m maddening? You are the one kidding yourself, Caden. This could never work. Never. Look at us. We are fighting. We are always fighting. Doesn’t that tell you something.”

  “Lately, the only thing we have been fighting is whatever's building between us. Every time I take a step forward, you take two steps back.”

  “Because this doesn’t make sense, Caden! We don’t make sense. You only think you want me because we are in the same damn house and you probably don’t have time to go out and get some stranger to love you instead.”

  “Oh, so we are going to go there now?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m stating the obvious. I’m one of the few women you haven’t had, so I’m a challenge. You only want me because of that.”

  My hands grip the counter, supporting my weight as I lean back. As I stretch, her eyes linger on my abs. “You are out of your damn mind if you think that, Molly. I’m a grown man. I know what I want. I know what fighting this with you means. You are more than some girl I want to win over, as you seem to view it. I fought it because I wasn’t ready to feel it, but I’m ready now.”

  She launches the fork she used for the bacon in the sink, and it knocks one of the pans over, making a loud noise as it clatters in the sink. “You drive me crazy!”

  “Oh, good. So, you know the feeling.”

  She stomps toward me and pushes her finger against my chest. “Don’t act like for one second you want to settle down and raise a family when you like hooking up with random girls. It’s just one of the many things I can’t stand about you.”

  I cross my arms and lift my brows. “And what else can’t you stand? Let’s play a game. For everything you tell me, I’ll give you two about yourself.” I push off the counter, curling my lip in the process of walking away from her. I carry my coffee with me and plop into the recliner, turning on the TV as I go. What the hell had I been thinking? We are like oil and water. We don’t mix. We will never mix.

  “How about your little collection of mugs on the nightstand next to you? It drives me crazy that you don’t know how to pick up after yourself.”

  “I have long hours!” I pull the lever on the recliner and stand up. “It isn’t like I have a nine-to-five job, Molly.”

  “You could try to pick up. And you drink out of the carton. I’ve tried not to say anything, but you aren’t the only one that drinks the juice.”

  “Aw, afraid to consume a little of my spit? Don’t act like you wouldn’t like it.”

  “You are disgusting! Between your work and your conquests, it isn’t my job to clean up after you. I’m not your wife.”

  “And thank god for that.” I storm past her, hating that I love the way she smells. Fucking oranges.

  “Please, like any other woman finds it attractive and endearing to clean up after you like you are a teenage boy.”

  “Stop! You know what drives me nuts about you, Molly? You fucking fight everything. Everything ever thrown your way. You just look for reasons not to want it, and to push it away instead.”

  Posie knew it was time to let out a piercing wail, sucking the wind from our argumentative sails. Molly stomps toward the steps to go upstairs, which is where Posie’s bedroom is located. Molly pushes by me, and my back hits the wall. If looks could kill, I’d be dead from the daggers she shoots my way. “Look what you did! It took me forever to get her down this morning.”

  “Oh, last time I checked, I wasn’t arguing with a wall! Don’t put this all on me.” I follow Molly up the steps to the nursery and watch her pick up Posie. She sits down in the chair that rests in the corner of the room, and the sunbeams through the window and against Molly's hair as she rocks Posie back to sleep.

  I lean against the wall, watching the scene in front of me. She is so good with her. She loves Posie so much, and I love that. It makes me want her that much more.

  “Just stay away from me,” she says in a hushed, low, emotional tone.

  “I wish I could, but for some reason, my best friend thought it would be smart for us to live together. Damn him. Us being together isn’t good for Posie. This isn’t healthy.” Defeat. Something I have never felt before, but here I am, crumbling under it. I’ve never wanted a person so much in my entire life.

  No matter how much we want each other, she will never, ever give me a chance. Fear, anger, and whatever else it is stops her from loving me, but we can’t keep doing this. It’s exhausting.

  She lays Posie down in her crib, turns around, and storms past me. Her feet pound on the way down the steps until her bedroom door slams, echoing through the house and temporarily filling the silence. I stay in Posie’s room, staring at the pastel purple walls. I painted them last week and put her name in letter blocks above her crib.

  I sigh, meandering toward the chair in the corner that Molly just left. I sit down in the chair and start rocking back and forth. Molly's citrus scent lingers, awakening the hunger I have for her. I rub my hand over my face, wondering just what the fuck Brandon had been thinking.

  “Man, if you were here right now, I don’t know if I’d punch you or hug you, because that would mean you’d be here.” I hang my head and give it a light shake. “I want to keep this going. I want to make this work. But I don’t know how to do it with her. She is so damn complicated, Brandon.” I feel like a fool for talking to the air because, in a sad way, I expected answers in return. I slap my hands on my thighs and stand up once more.

  “This is stupid. You aren’t there. You are dead, and you aren’t ever coming back.” I make sure to whisper the last words so Posie doesn’t hear me. I know she is too young to remember anything, but I still don’t want her hearing anything negative. Not yet, at least. Not until she is older.

&
nbsp; I stand in the doorway and turn my head to the right, staring at the picture frame of Brandon and Amelia on Posie’s dresser. I miss them. I keep the door cracked open and head to my room to put on pants and a T-shirt. My amazing plan to seduce Molly Lowell and make her fall in love with me is ruined.

  What I want and what I need are two completely different things. I want Molly, but I don’t need Molly. Even the thought makes me rub the ache in the center of my chest. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” I mumble to myself as I parade down the steps.

  The stove top is still on, the grease still popping from high and prolonged heat. I run and turn it off, hissing when a few beads of oil burn my arm. “Damn it,” I say as I turn the knob off and curse the air when I see bacon in the pan. It’s shriveled up and burned—a little too crispy for my liking.

  I stare at Molly’s door, wishing this morning didn’t happen.

  Chapter Twenty

  Molly

  “So, stupid.” I wipe the tears from my eyes. I seem to be a never-ending hose lately. I haven’t been able to stop crying. He makes me feel like a teenager all over again—and I hated my teenage years. I flip over onto my back and stare at the ceiling. What does he have over me that I can’t seem to shake?

  A knock at the door makes me turn my head and stare at the one thing that separates me and that infuriating, annoying, sexy, intelligent, man. “Molly?” His voice makes me sit up in bed and tighten my arms around my waist.

  The door creaks open, allowing the light to illuminate the outline of his body. “Molly, can we talk.”

  “What else is there to say, Caden?” I take my shirt sleeve and brush it against my cheek to get the stray tear that fell from the outer corner of my eye.

  He steps into my room, keeping the door open so we can hear Posie if she needs us. “I never meant to make you cry.”

  I roll my eyes and stand up, scoffing at his audacity. “You know, not everything is about you, Caden.”

  “Will you stop? I’m not trying to fight with you.” He takes a step closer, grabbing me by my arms. I try to wiggle free, but he holds onto me tighter. “Stop! Stop fighting me all the time just stop!” He smashes his lips against mine, taking me in a hungry, angry, kind of kiss.

  I don’t respond at first. I’m too stunned.

  “Kiss me back, Molly,” he pulls his lips away from mine just enough to whisper the words.

  “Caden.”

  “Stop fighting. Let down the walls. I’m tired. Aren’t you tired?” His forehead presses against mine as his heated breath puffs against my face.

  I am tired. I am so tired. Tired of being sad, tired of fighting all the time, tired of looking for excuses to hate Caden, but the longer I try and search for reasons, I don’t find any. And that makes me angrier, at him, at myself, at the damn world. I grip his shirt, the soft cloth feathers over the pads of my fingertips as I lean in.

  I close my eyes, letting his masculine scent encompass me. I let my nose trail over his throat and flick my tongue out to see if he tastes as good as he smells. He tilts his head back, stretching it to give me more access to explore.

  I’ve never explored before.

  I place a kiss where his vein throbs and glide my lips across his jaw. I have no idea what I’m doing. I have never seduced a man, and there is pressure with Caden because he has so much experience.

  “You don’t have to be nervous,” he says, like he can hear my thoughts.

  “Of course, I’m nervous,” I run my hand through his thick hair, inching my lips closer to his.

  He brushes his lips against mine, shaking his head. “Why?”

  Not even I can answer that.

  His hands tease the hem of my shirt, lightly grazing my skin, sending my nerves into a sexual frenzy. I pull back when he leans in. I lean in, he pulls back with a smirk. We start a dance, twisting around each other’s bodies, teasing, groping, amping up the tension.

  I take a step backward; he takes a step forward until the stopped me. His arms cage me in, placing them on either side of my head. “Kiss me,” he says again.

  “And If I say no?”

  His lips hover over mine, and his hands clutch onto my shoulders. “I’ll beg you until you say yes.” His knee shoves my legs apart, pressing against the spot that has never been touched.

  I gasp, giving him the opportunity to drive his tongue inside my mouth. I jump to wrap my legs around his hips. He moves his hands to my ass and squeezes. The shirt covers all my parts, but this is new. I’ve never been in this position before. The way he makes me feel, the way his hands knead my ass, the way his cock presses against my pelvis, it’s the furthest I’ve ever been with a man. The sensations are new, but not unwanted.

  “Your skin is so soft, Molly.” My shirt lifts higher and higher, until he stops underneath my breasts. He balances my body on his knee as he travels his hands over my ribs. It causes my breath to stutter and my body to convulse. “Hot spot.”

  “Hot what?” I ask, delirious with heat. Actual heat. My body feels like it’s being singed with fire as he kisses his way over my throat.

  “A hot spot," he starts to explain, “is a certain part of your body that drives you crazy with want. With need. With lust. It's a carnal desire. It causes you to want more, but at the same time, less,” he says. His finger feathers over my ribcage, causing me to squirm and whimper.

  I pant as I try to catch my breath, not understanding what it is that he is trying to get at. “Less?”

  “Less because it is so much but not enough at the same time.” His fingers walk down my torso, teasing the band of my underwear. He brings his mouth to my ear and licks the lobe. My skin vibrates. My fingers dig into his shoulders until my nails pierced his skin. “Tell me, Molly, because I really need to know.”

  “Know what?” I say out of delirium.

  “I really need to know if anyone has ever been down here.”

  This is the moment. The moment of truth. It will kill the mood, and I will die a virgin. “That’s not important. Come here,” I grapple at his shirt, trying to get him closer to me.

  “It’s very important,” he explains as he grips my chin, spearing his eyes into mine.

  I fight it for a minute, deciding if I really want to tell him. His fingers dip inside my panties, but not far enough to touch my swollen clit. Instead, his fingertips skim over the patch of hair I have down there. “No.”

  He pauses, taking his hand out of my panties. “No?”

  I grip his arm and shove his hand back where it was. “No, no one has ever been down there. I’m a virgin, okay?” I look away with shame.

  A few beats of silence pass when a low, rumble comes from his chest. My eyes widen when I watch his chest rise and fall at a fast rate. “Caden?”

  “Do you understand what that does to me?” Quicker than I thought possible, he picks me up by my ass and throws me on the bed. Before I can even think, he rips my shirt off my body, leaving me in my red panties, and nothing else.

  I shake my head, unable to speak when he reaches behind his head and yanks his T-shirt off. He looks like a model. His neck strains, and his abs clench as he moves toward me.

  His spreads my legs, burying his face in my apex. He runs his nose over my slit and takes a big whiff. “You smell so good.” He slides a finger over me and never moves them aside to penetrate me. He makes me wetter, dry humping my clit with his fingers. “You smell so sweet.”

  “Caden,” I whimper, grasping at the sheets on the bed, searching for something to hold onto.

  “Are you going to give this to me, Molly? You are going to give me this sweet pussy?”

  I cry out when his thumb presses on my clit harder, making me arch my back. The only other person that has given my pussy attention is me. It feels so different when someone else does it. “Wow, I really have been missing out.”

  “Oh, you haven’t felt anything, yet.” He fists the material in his hand and yanks. A ripping sounds fills the room making me gasp when cold air
hits my sensitivity. “Damn, you are beautiful. Do you know that? I’ve always found you gorgeous. More beautiful than any other woman I have ever seen.”

  “You don’t have to compliment me. My pants are already off.”

  He coats his finger with my slick juices and trails it up my stomach, and right as he circles my breasts, he dips back down and wets his finger again. He continues his path, glistening my nipples with my own nectar. Then, he shoves two of his fingers into my mouth, making me taste my cream. “I’ll never stop complimenting you.”

  My eyes trail down his stomach, lingering at his happy trail. Below that, his massive cock tents his shorts.

  A gigantic tent.

  I swallow from the thought of that weapon spearing me.

  “It’s okay, we won’t be having sex tonight. This is all about you, Molly.” He bends down and claims my lips with his. “Just feel. Feel what I can do to you.”

  Caden kisses his way down my neck, flexing his hips in a slow rhythm, punching my clit with the tip of his cock. He rips a cry from me, using every ounce of oxygen in my lungs. It isn’t enough for him. He licks the sweat off my skin, sucking my left nipple into his mouth as he pinches the right. A gush of cream leaves my virgin hole, soaking the thin material of his shorts. Caden moans into my mouth. He must feel how much I desire him. How much I desire his cock.

  He must have read my mind because he leans back just enough to take his lips from mine. “You aren’t ready for that, but I’m dying to do one thing.” He lowers himself between my legs and flattens his tongue over my slit. His eyes roll to the back of his head, shutting as he enjoys me like I’m his favorite dessert. “Fuck, you taste good, sunshine.”

  Right when I’m about to ask about the nickname, he licks me from back to front, sucking the virginity right out of me. My legs shake, and I close them around his head when everything became too much.