Nobody's Angel

by Sarah Hegger

  She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. The pain was staggering. He had been a decent man and a wonderful friend. He’d picked her up and dusted her off time and time again. Her phone was already in her hand. Ready to make the call and bring Elliot to the rescue.

  She put the phone down again. He deserved more than to be someone’s fallback position. Elliot deserved to be loved wholly, passionately, and freely. He didn’t need to be Lucy Flint’s charity case. Five years crashed over her like a wave. Her gratitude was genuine and sincere, but it wasn’t love, not the sort of love he wanted.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  This had to be a new low. It was two in the morning, and she was listening to Adele crooning about lost love, and shoveling snow as if her life depended on it. Right now, it felt as if it did. Lucy wanted to crawl into her bed and cry, but she couldn’t. Her tears were a dead weight, lodged behind her breastbone.

  Lucy pushed the shovel into the fresh coat of about two inches on the walkway. If anyone saw her, they might think she’d lost her mind. Down the street a snow-clearing service backed a small plow out of a driveway. If Lynne heard anything, it would blend into the other sounds of the night. Lucy dearly hoped she was right. She couldn’t face her mother right now.

  A slight shift in the light was all the warning she got before a warm hand closed over hers. Lucy dropped her iPod and he reached out quickly and caught it. Adele sadistically launched into a heartrending chorus. Tell me about it. Lucy sniffled.

  Richard’s mouth moved, but all Lucy heard was Adele wailing away enthusiastically. His eyes were bluer than a clear sky and Lucy sank, came up for air, and then sunk all the way down to the bottom.

  His mouth moved. He frowned, shook his head, and plucked the earphones from her ears. “These things will make you deaf.”

  “Is that your considered medical opinion?” She was proud she could still come out with the wisecracks. Given that she truly wanted to disgust Gloria Steinem and the girls and fling herself against his manly chest and have him sweep her away to the happily-ever-after place.

  “What are you doing?” Prince Charming asked with a frown.

  “You have to ask?” Lucy looked pointedly at her shovel.

  “Lucy.” His mouth tightened. “It’s the middle of the night and you’re shoveling snow?”

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Not with the shoveling.” Richard pushed a hand through his hair, making it stand on end around his head. “You look like you need a friend,” he said softly.

  “Is that what you are?” Lucy heard her voice wobble dangerously and cleared her throat.

  “Or something,” he muttered, and took her arm. “Come on.” He took the shovel from her hand and propped it against the side of the house. “Let’s be sleepless together.”

  “Not a good idea.” Lucy dug in her heels, but he tightened the grip on her arm and tugged her a few steps forward.

  “I don’t care,” he said, and hauled her a few more steps. “I don’t give a shit right now.”

  And just like that, Lucy realized she didn’t give a shit, either.

  He took her silence as agreement and kept her hand in his as he walked them through the silent garden to his house.

  “Coffee?” he asked as he hung up his coat and reached over for hers to hang it beside his.

  “No,” Lucy answered, pulling a face. “I would like to sleep at some point.”

  The dim light of the entrance hall danced across the strong lines of his face. He cupped her chin and turned her face. “You’ve been crying.”

  “A bit,” Lucy murmured.

  His hand on her face was warm and gentle, but it sent a shaft of longing arcing through her body. She shifted away and dropped her head. Needing to move, she padded restlessly into the house.

  “What is it?” He caught up with her on silent feet. “Is it last night?”

  “Not really.” She didn’t have it in her to outright lie. “Something happened, earlier, and I …” She trailed off and followed him into the kitchen. She almost laughed. This kitchen had seen a lot of action since she’d been back in town.

  “Tell me,” Richard urged her softly.

  “I hurt someone.” She pulled out a seat and sat.

  He went very still above her. “A man?”

  Lucy nodded and looked down at the floor. His bare feet stuck out the bottom of his pants. He must have just pulled on his boots when he spotted her in her crazy wee-hour mania.

  “A boyfriend?”

  “Not really.” Something in his tone made her look up. His gaze was trained intently on her face. The muscles of his jaw bunched.

  “You sure you want to hear this?” Of all the things she and Richard could discuss, another man must be close to the top of the awkward list.

  “No.” His eyes bored into hers, as if he were trying to see past her face and into the center of her. “Tell me anyway.”

  “His name is Elliot and he’s a really good man.” The pain in her chest unraveled slightly and she dared a bit more. “He’s been amazing to me. He picked me up when I was at my lowest point and helped me get sober. He’s one of the good guys.”

  “And?”

  “He loves me and wants more from me. I don’t feel the same.”

  Richard flinched, the slightest crease around the corner of his eyes.

  “It isn’t the same,” she addressed the thoughts she could almost hear whirling around his brain. “Elliot is not you and I was always honest with him.”

  “Really?” His skepticism rubbed salt on an open wound.

  “I never loved Elliot.” Lucy hissed in a breath. “I never pretended to love him either. He …” She was making a mess of this. “Why don’t I tell you the whole story and stop you from leaping to conclusions?”

  She thought he might refuse and then his face relaxed slightly and he dragged out the chair beside her. “Why not?”

  It was not exactly enthusiastic, but Richard was still listening.

  “I met Elliot when I first went to Seattle,” she said. “He was the perfect catch for me at that time. He had money, he was good looking and just that bit older to want to take care of me. I used him.” She hated even admitting it. “Until I found something I liked more. I was drinking, heavily, and Elliot was a bit too grown up for me. Then I ran out of money, got scared, and went straight back to Elliot.”

  Lucy managed a dry laugh. “And he took me back. He asked me to stop drinking and I did. I didn’t stay for long,” she said, shrugging. “I found someone more exciting, more like me, and I left him again.”

  “The prick with the fists?”

  “That’s the one.” Lucy grimaced. “Then I got sober and Elliot has been waiting for me to get serious about him. He’s been hanging around for me, all this time, and I had to let him go.”

  “Wow.” Richard blew out a soft breath. He spun away from her and stood staring out the window into the dark. “There’s a whole team of us. The men who never get over Lucy.”

  It stung like a slap. Lucy reeled back from the table and clambered to her feet. “That was a shitty thing to say.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He dropped his head onto his chest. “I shouldn’t have said it.”

  “I’m going home.”

  “Don’t.” His voice stopped her before she reached the kitchen door. “I’m mad at myself.”

  “That’s just an excuse, Richard.”

  “You’re right,” he said, nodding. “And I’m sorry.”

  He looked at her across the length of the kitchen. The expression on his face softened. “I want you to stay.”

  Lucy’s breath caught in her throat. “I don’t want to be the enemy anymore.”

  “You’re not.” His voice grew hoarse, his blue eyes raw in their intensity. “Not anymore. And this guy, Elliot, he made his own choices. You’re not responsible for him or even me, for that matter. You’re our addiction, our drug of choice. So sexy and so beautiful and fragile and we’re strapping on the armor
before we’ve even formed the conscious thought. You’re man candy, Lucy Flint.”

  “Man candy.” Man, she wished that sounded like a good thing. Lucy gave a strangled laugh. “That’s a new one.”

  “Not for me.”

  Everything in Lucy stilled, like the moment before the oncoming car broadsides you.

  “Richard?” Lucy’s breath caught in her throat and she struggled to swallow past the constriction.

  “I’m not doing well at walking away from this insane thing between us.” His gaze bored fierce and needy into her. “You’re in my blood, under my skin, and I don’t want to fight it anymore.”

  Neither of them moved. He waited for something and she had no idea what it was. The words were not there and Lucy shook her head.

  “What is happening here?” Some rapidly fading piece of her tried to cling to wisdom.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “You’re right, but I don’t care.”

  His eyes heated as he moved closer.

  Something caught fire inside her. Oh God, this is actually happening? Richard wants me. It got harder to breathe.

  “I give up.” He shifted closer, slowly, giving her every opportunity to back away.

  And go where? When this was the place she wanted to be more than any other.

  He was so close she could distinguish the tiny darker flecks of indigo in his eyes, feel the heat emanating off his body.

  “Your call, Lucy.” Dark, potent need laced his tone.

  It tugged at Lucy. Oh, God, she wanted this. It pounded through her with each clamorous throb of her body.

  He loomed over her, silent and waiting.

  Unleashed tension crackled in the air between them.

  Lucy’s body knew what it needed, even if her mind was still trying to shout it down. “Is this a good idea?”

  “Would it matter?” He called her bluff, lowering his mouth until the hot wash of his breath caressed her cheek. “I can’t think of anything else. Since the moment I saw you standing in the snow, this is all I’ve been thinking about. I need to get inside you, Lucy, and I’m no good to anyone or anything until I do.”

  Okay.

  It was a slow tango through the kitchen, marched to the sound of her pounding heart.

  He advanced and she retreated, their eyes locked.

  Lucy stopped thinking and let her body feel. And the dance continued, advance and retreat, pulse pounding and blood heating. He stepped forward and she went back, challenging him with her eyes, daring him to come and get her.

  Lucy stumbled into the entrance hall. And still he came toward her.

  Her back hit the wall and she stopped.

  He kept coming.

  Lucy grabbed the back of his head and tugged his mouth onto hers. Perfect. Only with Richard was it ever like this.

  Heat burgeoned into wild fire between them.

  The taste of him made her crazy as she pushed her tongue into his mouth.

  He groaned low and rough, meeting each thrust of her tongue, feasting on her with lips and teeth, as if he couldn’t get enough.

  The wall was solid and unyielding behind her back as Richard shoved against her, his cock already hard and swollen against the front of her jeans. His obvious desire lit Lucy up from within and she wrapped her thigh around his hip, her body demanding what it needed from him.

  He grabbed her ass, fastening around each globe and directing her slide against him.

  Lucy whimpered and tugged at his hair as she ground against his erection. She couldn’t get close enough, fast enough. Years, she’d waited years to feel like this again.

  “Upstairs,” he panted against her mouth. “Now.”

  His teeth nipped at her bottom lip, his hands already yanking her by the belt loops toward the stairs. “Bedroom,” he growled, as he fused their mouths together again. He pulled away from her roughly. His breath labored and hectic spots of color stained his cheekbones as he grabbed her hand.

  They took the stairs two at a time and Lucy didn’t falter. She didn’t notice the room or the bed until she was lying flat on it, with Richard pressing her deeper into the covers. The incredible heat of his body surrounded her and Lucy melted into him. She wrapped her thighs and arms around him, pulling him closer to her.

  She wanted to hold him here forever.

  He broke the kiss long enough to tug off her shirt and sweatshirt and send them sailing across the room.

  Lucy wriggled up and grabbed his shirt. It disappeared in a tear of fabric and the ping of buttons across the floor. She reached out greedily for the feast of beautiful skin and muscle spread before her. Hers.

  His breath hissed as she stroked his chest and slid her hands down over the ridges of his stomach.

  “You’re beautiful,” she marveled, her hands feverishly tracing up over the swell of his laterals and over his back. Down the tightly packed muscle on either side of his spine she drew her palms, committing the feel of him to memory.

  His breathing grew ragged as she stroked over his ass and raked her fingernails up his thighs. The waistband of his pants stopped her from exploring further. She slid her hand around to cup his erection straining at her through the fabric.

  His cock jerked in her hand.

  With her other hand she pulled his head back to hers.

  He groaned and grabbed for her, eating into her mouth with his own as she worked the length and hardness of him in her hand.

  Her fingers found the clasp and zipper and she eased him out. He was hot and smooth against her. He groaned into her mouth as she touched his bare skin. Gripping him firmly, she stroked down and up again.

  He hissed and grabbed her hand and held it still on his flesh. “Shit, Lucy, you have to stop that.”

  No way. She wanted this and a whole lot more.

  She tugged his pants and he reared back, hauling them down his legs and kicking them off.

  Lucy sat up and pushed him over onto his back. He lay still for her as she studied him. His amazing body spread before her, just for her. It was a memory she wanted to last forever. As a younger man, he’d been beautiful and she’d forgotten nothing. As a man in his prime, he took her breath away.

  “Come here.” He sat up and slid one hand behind her head. His grip was light as his mouth found hers. His kiss had lost none of its intensity, but it was a leisurely exploration now, gentler as if he wanted to calm things down.

  Lucy’s pulse hammered the need for him through her blood. She wanted to resist this new pace, but the taste of him acted like a drug as he made love to her mouth, slow and easy.

  She gave up and let him lead.

  He moaned his encouragement as his hands slid over the silk of her bra. Carefully, expectantly, he cupped the weight of her breasts in his palms. His thumb stroked across the feverish, aching peak of her nipple. Lucy pressed closer to him, arching her back to push her breasts into his caress.

  “Lucy, baby, you’re wearing way too many clothes,” he murmured. He unclipped her bra, dragging the straps slowly down her arms. His eyes gleamed appreciatively as he pushed the last of the fabric away and his hands touched her bare skin.

  “Shit, Lucy.” His voice was rough and laden with barely contained desire. He reared up to fasten his mouth around one turgid nipple.

  Lucy groaned, her fingers digging into his scalp to pull him closer. The heat was nearly unbearable as he drew her nipple into his mouth, running his teeth lightly over the sensitive flesh. He palmed the other breast, kneading the fullness as his thumb flicked over the peak.

  She writhed against him, loving the feel of how hard he was against the juncture of her thighs.

  He swapped breasts, suckling gently and then harder until she was arching against him, panting his name like a litany. Lucy had never thought her breasts particularly sensitive, but she could come from this alone.

  “Richard!” His name was a gasp. “Please?”

  “Still too many clothes.” He flipped her o
ver onto her back. His hands made short work of the clasp of her jeans. Grabbing the jeans and her panties, he tugged them off impatiently. He grabbed her by one ankle and lifted her leg slowly and reverently.

  “These legs of yours drive me fucking crazy.” He pressed a soft bite against her calf. He laid her leg back on the bed, sliding his palms from ankle to thigh on both of her legs until he reached the jut of her hipbone.

  His hands slid over the ridge and onto the softer skin of her stomach, easing up her ribcage until he cupped her breasts again. “All of you drives me fucking crazy.”

  “Richard.” Lucy shifted impatiently beneath him.

  He moved over her until they lay chest-to-chest and toe-to-toe. Heat flared everywhere as naked flesh fused to naked flesh. He pressed nibbling, wet kisses along her neck and jaw, breathing in the scent of her deeply as he went. His hands shifted under her back until he cupped her ass again, pressing her against the jutting length of his cock.

  It wasn’t enough and Lucy’s body writhed against him impatiently as his mouth moved to hers and continued its deep, relentless kisses. Heat uncoiled through her belly, feverish and restless.

  “Please?” Her body ached for him.

  “Tell me, Lucy,” he whispered against her skin. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You.” Lucy rolled her hips against him. “I want you, inside me, now.”

  His eyes flared hotter.

  She almost came at the first touch of his fingers on her slick flesh. He slipped his fingers into her, circling the swollen nub with his thumb. Responding to the demands of her moans and her writhing, but never giving in completely.

  Her thighs dropped open for him as he settled between them. Soft, hot kisses down her ribcage almost made her weep with need. He pushed open her legs and blew against her slick, swollen flesh.

  Lucy held her breath and then cried out as he fastened the heat of his mouth on her.

  He tortured her with his mouth, sucking and licking and bringing her to the point of panting and crying with need. He took his time exploring and tasting the essence of her until Lucy wanted to scream. Her hands fastened in his hair, demanding his capitulation. And then he let her come, in one earth-shattering rush that began at her toes and constricted every muscle in her body.