Finding Forever (Living Again #4)

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Finding Forever (Living Again #4) Page 12

by L. L. Collins


  His wanton hand that was under her dress was tracing the line of her panties, and she could hardly stand it. She hadn’t been touched in a long time, and her instincts were quickly taking over.

  “Doc,” Brant breathed, lifting his head from her neck to look her in the eyes. “Tell me to stop.”

  Lacey shook her head no, reaching for his shirt. His eyes never left hers as he lifted it over his head and flung it, his glasses crashing to the ground with the motion. Her eyes left his momentarily to look at him up close. His smooth skin was brown from the Florida sun and ripped, his muscles taut under her fingertips. She looked at the waistband of his jeans, just low enough to show the ridges of muscle that led into his pants. Her mouth literally watered at the sight of him.

  His second hand joined the first, snaking up her thighs. He used one to pull her to him, where he began rubbing against her, giving her the most delicious feeling she had felt in a long time.

  Lacey threw back her head, her eyes closed. What the hell was she doing? She should stop this, right?

  Brant moved his left hand up the inside of her dress until he reached her strapless bra. Cupping her left breast with his large hand, a soreness from the needle yesterday reminded her of exactly why she shouldn’t be doing this. Trying to keep herself from hyperventilating, she fought through the feeling. Maybe him touching her there would take it away for just one night.

  He had no idea the war that was going on inside her head as he lifted his head and met her eyes again. He crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue invading her mouth roughly. This was a different kiss than before, almost bruising. When his finger brushed her nipple, she grabbed his face, sucking his tongue into her mouth. He moved back down, both hands cupping her ass as he lifted her so she was suspended in air, her legs wrapped around him.

  He moved her underwear to the side, and she swore her traitorous body shuddered when he touched her softness. Releasing her hands from his face, she traced them down the rivulets of muscle and to the waistband of his pants. He froze for a second, waiting, then resumed, his finger softly entering her.

  Lacey felt like the room was spinning. She had never been so turned on in her life. She was pressed against the refrigerator in her house, the dogs having long forgotten about them. Before she could stop them, her hands had unbuttoned his jeans and she reached inside to touch him. When her small hand closed over him, steel under silk, he released her mouth, going back to her ear and neck while simultaneously adding another finger into her aroused flesh.

  She stroked him as he did the same to her, both of them panting with need and not saying a word. Finally, he looked at her, his eyes wide and dark with his desire. He held her gaze as he touched her, almost making her want to look away with embarrassment but she was too turned on.

  “Lacey,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering as she applied a little more pressure on him. His touch matched hers, and it wasn’t long before they were both ready to let go. “We need to…”

  Lacey leaned over and kissed her way from his neck down to his stomach, his abs jumping under her tongue. She was way beyond rational thought. He hauled her up, his mouth devouring her but he also stopped touching her, sliding her back down to the floor, making her have to let go of him as well.

  He slowed the kiss down, both of their hearts pounding as they touched each other softly. As her head began coming back down to Earth, she realized what she almost let happen here. She lost complete control over herself, and she loved every single second of it. She was in so much trouble.

  He thought he might’ve just died and went to Heaven. He may be there now, looking at a gorgeous Lacey, flushed and breathing hard, looking him in the eyes. He swore he must have superpowers to have stopped that, because he sure as hell didn’t want to, and she hadn’t either.

  He was a man, after all, and he had thought many times about what it would be like to touch her, to feel her soft skin under his fingers. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could’ve prepared him for actually getting to do it. The way her body responded, the sounds she made, the way she got brave enough to touch him and kiss him; it was all just… wow.

  Brant’s head reeled with what had just happened. He was very—uncomfortable—if you will, but he knew it had been way past time to stop. As he had told her many times, he wanted to do things the right way and treat her like the woman she was.

  Lacey straightened her dress, the blush on her cheeks almost matching the pink of her dress. He was having difficulty thinking of words to say to her. When her eyes scanned his bare chest, down to his unbuttoned jeans, he smirked.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  “No,” she said seductively, stepping forward again. “But I had yours.” His mouth dropped open. Who was this sexy vixen? Why yes she was correct. She had had his. She had other things, too, if he was honest.

  “You stopped,” she commented, smoothing her hair back from her face.

  He wanted nothing more than to grab her right now and walk down the hallway to her room and strip that dress from her body, but he couldn’t. Well, he could. But he wouldn’t. “I had to.”

  Her face scrunched up. “What for? It’s not like I wasn’t willing.”

  Hell, her questioning him on it was weakening his resolve by the second. “Lacey,” he said. “I’m warring with myself inside right now for what I want to do versus what I know I should do. I want our first time to be passionate, full of love and respect. Not in the kitchen when we’ve barely said two words to each other.”

  She smiled. “Hmm… I kinda liked it, though. It was hot, being pressed up against the refrigerator like that. Well, that was cold… but you know.”

  Brant laughed, kissing her delicious lips one more time. “I think we have cold burgers and fries now. But it was totally worth it.”

  Lacey opened the bag, taking out a fry and wrinkling her nose when she tasted it. “Yuck. Thank god for the toaster oven.” Brant watched as she placed the food on a tray and put it in to warm up. God, he had gotten so lucky.

  It was late, and Lacey was asleep on his lap. Max, Maggie, and Sophia were curled up together in front of the television. They had watched a movie together, but Lacey had fallen asleep two hours ago. He didn’t have the heart to wake her up, so instead he had just watched her. He didn’t think he had ever watched a girl sleep before, unless it was one of his sisters when they were little.

  Lacey had her hands curled up under her face, and her eyes fluttered in her sleep. She looked so peaceful, like she hadn’t a care in the world. He watched her lips as the breath moved in and out, and her nostrils flared like she was dreaming every once and a while. He stroked her soft hair, watching the strands as it went through his fingers. He knew what was happening to him, and while he thought it would terrify him, it didn’t. He was ready. The question was, was she?

  Brant knew he should get her into bed and go home. He knew he could lift her no problem; it was leaving her that would prove difficult. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his body around hers and fall asleep with her, their dogs at their feet.

  Sighing at a dream he hoped someday would come true, he lifted her gently against his chest, stopping to adjust to make sure she was secure. As he walked towards her room, he got the interest of all three dogs, who watched him from their spot on the floor with piqued interest.

  He settled her in her bed, pulling the blanket over her. The hallway light shone in on her face, and he stood there watching her for so long his legs started aching. She had to be exhausted because she hadn’t moved the whole time he was moving her. He guessed it was time for him to get Max and go home. Stepping back away from the bed, she shifted, causing him to freeze in his spot.

  “Brant?” her sleepy voice did something to him. He stepped back to the side of the bed. Max rested his head on the foot of the bed, looking back and forth between Lacey and Brant.

  “You fell asleep,” he whispered in her ear. “I brought you in to bed and I’m headed home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”


  She reached out her hand and grasped his, her eyes still closed. He wondered if she had any idea what she was doing, or if she was asleep. “Stay.” If she would’ve been lucid, she would’ve seen his mouth open in astonishment at what just came out of her mouth.

  There was no way he could stay here. She would wake up in the morning and freak out, forgetting that she said such a thing in her sleep.

  “Brant,” she said again, pulling him now. “Stay with me.” She blinked her eyes open and looked at him, a small smile convincing him she actually was awake.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, patting the space next to her. Maybe he was the one dreaming. She was inviting him to sleep next to her? He flung his shirt on the floor but kept his jeans on, sliding in next to her. When his body touched hers, she sighed, a sound that he swore he would never get out of his head. She settled back against him as he put one arm around her. Her scent wafted through his nose, and the feel of her pressed against him made him have to start thinking of old guys in Speedos on South Beach to stop himself.

  He felt the rise and fall of her steady breathing not long after he laid down, and he knew she was back asleep. He kissed her bare shoulder, peering over to look at her face one more time.

  “What are you doing to me, Lacey Russell? Whatever it is, I love it.” He settled back against the pillows and drifted off, a smile on his face.

  A sound woke him up, and he turned, feeling out of sorts. What time was it, and where was he? Then he felt her, next to him. She was shaking like a leaf.

  “No,” she whimpered. “Please no cancer.” He turned, seeing that she was still asleep. She must be in the middle of a dream. “No treatment,” she continued. “Just let me die. No one needs me.”

  Fear clenched his stomach. What? She was gripping the sheets, turning her head side to side. “Lacey,” he said, shaking her shoulder gently. She calmed, but didn’t wake up, rolling over so her face was into his chest. He held her, wondering what in the hell that had been about and if it had anything to do with what had been bothering her for weeks.

  After what seemed like minutes but was hours, he felt her stir. The sun was beaming through her windows, and he wondered absently if she was late for work. He blinked open his eyes to see a sexy pair of eyes looking directly at him. Damn, he could get used to waking up to that. Her hair was tousled from sleep, and he wondered just how many times he was going to think that she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever known.

  “Morning,” she said, resting her chin on his bare chest. “Thanks for staying last night. I think I slept better than I have in weeks.”

  “Really?” He stroked her hair, then down her back. “You were having some sort of nightmare or dream in the middle of the night.”

  A look that he could only describe as panic washed over her face, followed by the mask that she wore when she was scared. “What? Did I wake you up?”

  “Yes, but that’s not what I’m worried about. Lacey, are you sure that something isn’t bothering you?”

  “What did I say?” She sat up, turning her face away from him. “You know that dreams are crazy sometimes. I’ve always been a vivid dreamer.”

  “You said no, then said, ‘Please no cancer’, and ‘Just let me die. No one needs me.’ You were shaking like a leaf.”

  Lacey shrugged and got out of bed. “I don’t remember it. I’ve been under a lot of stress at work, so you never can tell what I’m going to dream about. Sometimes everything that happened with my mom comes out in dreams. Don’t worry about it. Sorry I woke you.” She went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, leaving him to wonder if she was being honest with him.

  It had been two days since he had stayed the night at Lacey’s house and heard her having that dream, and it wasn’t just that the dream was bothering him. It was Lacey. He hadn’t seen her and barely talked to her since then. Once they had gotten ready and she had left for work that morning, she had essentially disappeared from his life.

  He thought about finding Sam and talking to her, but he wasn’t sure if that was the right call or not. It wasn’t that Lacey was ignoring him; she was still talking to him and texting with him, but he just felt that something wasn’t right. She kept making excuses about not being able to see him after work, or having to work too late and she was tired. He was trying hard not to look too much into her behavior, but it sure seemed like she was shutting him out.

  Brant was headed to the gym when a call came through his speakers. Hitting the button to accept, he realized too late it was his mother. He knew he was being a bad son and not going over to visit his father, but he also knew that the worst was over and he was just recuperating now. He figured that leaving well enough alone was best for both of them.

  “Mom,” Brant answered, putting on his cheerful voice. “How are you doing?”

  “Brantley,” she said back. “You would think we didn’t live in the same town or something. Where’ve you been?”

  He sighed. He wanted to tell her exactly why he hadn’t been around; but it didn’t matter. There had never been a time in his life that she had stood up for him against his father, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “I was on a trip for work, then I’ve been around. Sorry I haven’t been out. Is Dad doing okay?”

  “Brant, I know what your dad said to you. Brooke told me.” He had stupidly confided in Brooke a few days after the hospital incident, thinking she could keep her mouth shut better than Heather. Apparently not.

  “Mom,” he started. “It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I can do about his opinion. I’m used to it.”

  She was quiet for so long that he thought maybe she had hung up. “Mom?”

  “I don’t agree with him, Brant,” she said quietly, like she was hiding her voice so no one could hear. “I’m proud of you, and I love you.”

  He already knew this about her. The problem was, she wouldn’t stand up for him to the one person that needed to hear that. “I know, Mom,” he said, pacifying her.

  “He loves you, too,” she said, always defending his dad. “Even when he has a crappy way of showing it. Do you think you could come out to the house soon? We’d love to see you.”

  “Sure,” he agreed, and she knew as well as he did that he wasn’t planning to come. “I’m going to the gym. I’ll talk to you later.”

  He needed to run, lift, and punch until he couldn’t think of anything anymore. Not a judgmental father, not a spineless mother, and not a doctor he was falling in love with but that was seemingly keeping secrets from him.

  Lacey listened to the message for probably the twentieth time, trying to decipher it from the tone of voice the receptionist used. Did she know? Did the lilt in her voice mean it was good news, or did that mean she was trying to protect the truth from coming through her voice?

  She had to go in today. She knew this. When the call had come through an hour ago, she couldn’t make herself answer it, choosing instead to torture herself with listening to the message over and over again.

  ‘Lacey Russell, this is the Radiology Center calling. We have the results of your biopsy, and the doctor would like you to come in immediately. Please call us back as soon as possible so we know when to expect you. Thank you.’

  She had been avoiding Brant since the night that she asked him to stay the night and then ended up blabbing in her sleep about cancer. She had been so stupid to let her guard down and ask him to stay with her, but that night she had slept better than she had in weeks, if not years.

  Trying to stay away from him was proving way harder than she originally thought, though. As usual, he sensed her pulling back and that only made him push harder to see her, talk to her. The other thing was, Sam was finishing up her studio time which meant she was also going to expect to see her. At least after today, she’d have an idea what was actually happening and where she needed to go from here.

  She had run every scenario through her head. Her getting there and the doctor telling her that her
biopsy was negative, she was free to go, and they would keep an eye on her every year was the best case scenario. The other one, the one that plagued her dreams, was the one she had mentally prepared herself for the most. Them telling her the word she had been terrified to hear ever since she heard it the first time at the age of ten.

  Lacey had no idea what she would do if that what they said, but she had been practicing it in her head. In one vision, she would listen, taking in all of the information and walk out, her head held high, determined to beat cancer. In another, she would crumple to the floor, wishing to just die right then rather than go through what she had to do to continue to live.

  She stared into the mirror, looking at her long hair and bright blue eyes. She remembered what her mom looked like after starting treatment. She pulled back her hair, imagining being bald. One thing was for damn sure. If she had to go through all of that, she sure as hell wasn’t dragging Brant through it with her. Cancer might ravage her, but it didn’t have to take him with it.

  “Right in here,” the woman said, leading Lacey into an office that definitely didn’t look like it belonged in this clinical building. A soft couch filled up one wall, and the walls were painted a light blue. Soft music played from a hidden speaker somewhere, and the lighting was soft, muted. There was a desk and chairs on the other wall, and pictures of a beach somewhere covered the walls.

  This looks so out of place, Lacey thought. I wonder if this is where they bring you to tell you the bad news, to try to soften the blow. She almost laughed. As if sitting in a nice office and looking at a picture of the beach made it easier to hear that your life would never be the same again.

  “The doctor will be right in,” she said, smiling thinly at Lacey. There were no examination gowns or machines this time. This was it. She would either walk out of here a free woman, or one chained to the big ‘C’.

 

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