Deserve

by C. C. Snow

  What Sean does is incredibly noble. What I said to him was nothing less than the unvarnished truth. Cops put their lives on the line every day to keep us safe. I admire Sean for devoting his life to protecting the public, especially when he could have lived a life of leisure.

  Unable to stop myself, I charged to Sean’s side and opened my big mouth without considering the consequences. If Sean hadn’t covered my mouth, I would have continued to rail against the Senator, oblivious to the censure of the other guests. Under their disapproving gazes, I felt gauche and ill-mannered—like a street urchin who had no right to be among their exalted company. Despite the Senator’s invitation to dine with him again, I doubt he’d want someone like me in his home.

  Feeling abashed, I stay silent as we exit the building and walk down the street to the car. I shiver as the cool night air hits my skin and wish I had brought a wrap. It may be summer, but there are unexpected wind tunnels in the city. Abruptly, Sean halts, shrugs out his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders.

  “You don’t have to,” I protest even as I pull his jacket closer, reveling in his lingering body heat. I want to cover every inch of my body with the warm material and let his essence soak into my pores.

  “After you slayed dragons for me? My hero,” he says with a small smile on his lips. Even in the dark, his blue eyes are preternaturally bright.

  Despite his teasing, I know my behavior was rude and I apologize again, “I’m sorry for ruining the party, Sean.”

  His voice shakes with laughter. “Are you kidding me? That was the best part of the evening.”

  I smile in appreciation of his diplomacy and say sarcastically, “Right. Watching me make a spectacle of myself is the highlight of the evening. I think this tops my performance in Grease.”

  My breath catches as his eyes soften and he tucks my hair behind my ear, letting his fingers linger on the sensitive contour.

  The silence stretches a tad too long and I try to ease the tension with a lame joke. “I was telling the truth. Besides, you’d probably suck as a judge. Earlier tonight, you were ready to violate an innocent man’s civil rights.”

  He chuckles. “You’re probably right.”

  “Your dad just wants what’s best for you, you know,” I say.

  Face stiffening imperceptibly, he looks over my shoulder. His silence is answer enough. I feel a spurt of pity for both Rowan men. I always knew he had differences with his dad, but the rift is a lot deeper than I expected. What could possibly have caused such hostility between them? There’s an impenetrable, opaque wall behind his eyes and I know it would be pointless to ask him. He may be portrayed by the press as a carefree playboy with no secrets, but I have a feeling Sean cultivates that image as a smokescreen.

  His finger on my cheek brings my attention back to him. “Thanks, Maggie.”

  “For what?” I whisper.

  “For being you.”

  There’s something in the way he’s looking at me that sets my pulse racing. My heart is thumping so hard, I’m sure he can hear it. A tic appears in his jaw and I curl my fingers against the desire to massage the tense muscle.

  We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity and the moment becomes charged with swirling undercurrents. My heart stutters as he leans closer to me. My neck stretches reflexively until our lips almost meet. I feel the gentle puffs of his breath and smell the woodsy oak of the wine he drank. His eyes drop to my mouth and I almost pant in need.

  Kiss me, I silently beg.

  With a small groan, he eliminates the space between us and then I’m transported to heaven. I keep my eyes wide open, afraid this is just a dream. He closes his eyes, his thick lashes ridiculously long against his cheeks. His lips are softer than I expect. He swipes his tongue into the crease of my lips and I part my mouth on an exhale, wanting to know his taste. When our tongues collide, his smooth masculine flavor explodes onto my taste buds and I greedily soak him in. A small moan escapes between our sealed mouths. I don’t know if it’s from him or from me and I don’t care.

  Our mouths move surely and slowly, as if both of us are afraid to rush such sweetness. There is none of the awkwardness of a first kiss; it feels like our mouths are designed to fit together.

  Grasping the back of my head, Sean angles my head. He slides his hand under his jacket and presses against my lower back, bringing my body flush against his. His palm is scorching hot against my skin, but I welcome the lick of fire.

  As the heat and intensity builds, my eyes flutter shut, allowing my other senses to come to the fore. His piney scent fills my nostrils and I draw it deeply into my lungs. The contrast of textures—the sharpness of his teeth, the satiny smoothness of the inside of his lips, the velvety roughness of his tongue—are a sensual delight and I want to discover every minute nuance.

  I wrap one arm around his waist while the other hand runs through the hair at his nape. The strands are soft and thick, like the bristles on a fine paintbrush.

  Our kiss turns wet and hungry, both of us twisting to find a closer connection—a deeper one. We are alone in the world, our shared body heat swirling between us.

  We both pull away at the same time, panting softly. His breath feels moist and warm on my skin.

  I open my eyes, desperate to see his reaction.

  Heat and desire. His eyes are banked flames in the dark and his cheekbones are taut with want. This is the expression I have dreamt of seeing on his face for years.

  Then I can’t think because Sean is kissing me again. This time it’s carnal and bluntly sexual. I feel utterly possessed as his tongue thrusts aggressively between my lips. The sound I make can only be described as greedy as I give myself over to his kiss.

  How can I not be greedy with this man? I’ve wanted him forever.

  Without conscious thought, I press my body against his, seeking fuller contact with his heat. My fingers ghost along his sloping jawline. Even freshly shaven, his skin retains a roughness that feels deliciously male.

  His hand sweeps up my side and clasps my ribs, spreading his fingers over my bare back and placing his thumb under my small breast. My nipples tighten in anticipation, but he doesn’t touch me more intimately. The achiness won’t go away and I push into his chest to find relief. He feels hot and unyielding as I move my torso from side to side, creating a friction that sends electrical pulses to my core.

  A low groan emits from his mouth and his thumb caresses the sensitive underside of my mound. I shiver as the pulses strengthen, making my sex damp and needy. A fire burns like an inferno in my belly.

  His right hand grabs my butt cheek and pulls me flush against him. He grunts as his fingers dig into my soft flesh, rubbing and kneading every inch. His thick erection is a hard column between us and I rock against him, imagining him pushing into my channel. Another needy sound travels from my mouth to his.

  Honk! Honk!

  Loud whoops and whistles pierce the air and Sean abruptly breaks the kiss, placing his forehead against mine.

  I blink to reorient myself and some of the sensual fog clears. My body is loudly complaining about the disruption, my breasts painfully tight, my belly twisted into an achy knot.

  Our rowdy interrupters are sitting in a car at a red light. A young guy in the backseat sticks his head out of the window and yells out an obscene suggestion. My face flushes with embarrassment.

  Face hardening, Sean turns around, but we only see the faint taillights as the car speeds up Hudson.

  “Let’s get into the car,” he says and puts his hand at my lower back. He opens the door and I climb in. As he walks to the driver’s side, he pulls out his phone. The glow of his screen illuminates his face and for a second, I think I see him flinch, but he’s thrown into darkness again as he pockets his phone. I frown as he continues to stand outside as if frozen.

  Finally, he opens the door and sits down. Jaw working, he stares out of the windshield. As the seconds tick by without him looking at me, something dark and oily snakes into my sto
mach, stealing away whatever joy I felt moments before. Finally, I can’t take the silence anymore and ask, “Sean, what’s wrong?”

  He turns to look at me and at the sight of the heavy remorse in his eyes, nausea rises up my chest into my throat, making me want to hurl. His voice is like coarse gravel. “I’m sorry, Mags.”

  I want to shrivel into a ball when I hear the words “I’m sorry.” Those are the last two words a woman wants to hear after a man kisses her.

  He scrubs his face hard with his hands and makes a grunting noise. “I should never have kissed you. Not only are you my best friend’s sister and I’m supposed to be protecting you, not seducing you, you’re also too good for someone like me.”

  I pucker my brow, focusing on the second part of his statement, intuiting this is the more important point. “Why would you say you’re not good enough?”

  He tears his gaze away and looks out into the dark, his sigh heavy and loud in the interior of the car. “It doesn’t matter. I made a mistake and should never have crossed the line. I was upset with my father and I got carried away by the moment.” He turns back to me and there’s a plea in his eyes. “Let’s forget this ever happened. I don’t want one kiss to ruin our friendship.”

  This evening is one long, never-ending nightmare. His regret over our kiss cuts like a jagged knife. Staving off the wave of pain, I draw in a shaky breath to center myself.

  “Of course.” I push the words out of stiff lips. “It was a mistake.” One big fucking mistake. I thought this was the culmination of my dream and it was just a mistake to him. I want to laugh at my naiveté for believing his excuse that he’s not good enough for me. He was trying to spare my pride and I fell for it. I dig my short nails into the leather seats. A part of me is surprised I don’t rip through the material.

  “I’m glad you understand.” A look of relief crosses his face and he reaches over to touch my arm. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  My instinct is to shrink away from him, but I force myself to sit still and say dully, “There’s nothing to forgive. Like you said, it was a mistake and we should forget it ever happened.” If I could only wipe out these last weeks with him from my memory banks.

  He studies me for a few long moments and I pray he doesn’t see the Category Five hurricane brewing behind my eyes.

  “I don’t think either of us is up for food. Are you okay with heading back to your dorm?”

  I nod my head like a bobblehead.

  He starts the engine and pulls the car into traffic. The ride is grimly silent. What more is there to say?

  When I see the familiar street, I shift restlessly, dying to get out of his car. Before he even pulls to a full stop, I already have my seatbelt undone. “Thanks, Sean. Have a good night.”

  “Maggie…” He stares at me, opens his mouth and then snaps it shut.

  “Yes?” Against my will, hope stirs in my heart.

  He swallows and then shakes his head. “Nothing. Have a good night.”

  My lips pull up in a travesty of a smile. “Bye, Sean.” I step out of the car and stride speedily to the dorm entrance. I know he’s watching me, waiting until I get into my building safely. Normally, I would turn around and wave at him before I enter the door, but tonight I don’t look back.

  I hurry past the few students still studying late, smiling at them when they wave. Once my room door closes behind me, I allow my face to crumple. I sit on my bed and raise my knees. Resting my chin on my folded forearms, I take a few shuddering breaths. I stare blindly at the white walls. My eyes are dry and burning.

  This is not going to make me cry.

  When I was five, my mom tried to explain to me why I didn’t have a father like the other kids in my class. She said it wasn’t my fault that he was gone—that the flaw lay with him—but as a child, my understanding was simple. My father didn’t want his family.

  He didn’t want me.

  As I grew older, my understanding became more nuanced. Intellectually I knew it wasn’t black and white. I knew my parents’ marriage was unhappy. I didn’t remember anything about him, but Cael recalled often finding Aaron Jackson passed out, reeking of cheap booze and cigarettes. He wasn’t the most engaged parent to begin with, but after a few drinks, he wouldn’t know if the house burned down. He and my mom used to fight on a daily basis and they were both miserable.

  So, yeah. In my head, I knew it wasn’t a great loss that he was out of our lives. As young as he was, Cael took on the burden of being the man of the house and he was an amazing brother. Is an amazing brother.

  But in my heart, it’s not as clear-cut. Sometimes that little girl with abandonment issues emerges and I freaking hate it. I hate her.

  I’ve taken enough psychology classes to know I still have a lot of insecurities. Whenever I feel rejected, I have to fight phantoms from my past. I have to tell myself that the feelings of inadequacy are all in my head.

  “Sean doesn’t want you. And the world is not ending,” I whisper to myself.

  I squeeze my eyes tightly, refusing to cry. I will cry for many things, but I refuse to waste my tears on that abandoned little girl.

  ***

  “Do you want another drink, Maggie?”

  Recalled to my surroundings, I gaze at my empty glass, surprised I had finished my drink. I don’t even remember taking the first sip and my mind was still way too lucid. I don’t want to be drunk off my ass, but I’d like to at least feel a buzz. I look into soft brown eyes and feign a smile. “Sure, Cory.”

  He grins and stands up, his hair flopping into his eyes. He looks like a twelve-year-old boy. “I’ll be right back.”

  Staring after his retreating back, I castigate myself for being such glum company. The whole point of coming out to the club was to forget about my problems, not to brood about them, but I can’t seem to get out of my funk. I look around at the dark converted warehouse, full of young college students seeking oblivion in the pumping music, the plentiful alcohol, and the uninhibited company. They all look ecstatic to be here on a Friday night, whereas I’m starting to think I should have curled up in my room with a good book.

  A laughing Todd slides into the booth with Antonio right behind him and I smile tightly. Hopefully in the dark, they can’t see how false it looks.

  “Why aren’t you shaking that cute ass on the dance floor, Hot Tamales?” Todd asks in between gulps of air.

  “Because your moves would put me to shame,” I tease. “I’d look like a chicken on crack next to you.”

  Antonio laughs and sings, “He’s got the moves like Jagger.”

  “Aww…” Todd turns to his boyfriend and gives him a smooch. “Thanks, babe.”

  Watching them stare into each other’s eyes, I can’t help but feel a pang of envy. Their love for each other is so unabashed and open. At first glance, most people are surprised to see them as a couple because while Todd’s looks are dazzling, Antonio’s are…well not. If I were to be unkind, I’d say he looks ordinary, but after spending a mere ten minutes with them, I knew they were perfect for each other. What they had was deep and abiding and it made everyone around them long to find the same thing.

  Another reason I should have stayed home, I think to myself with an inward sigh. I could have enjoyed the pity party going on in my head in the comfort of my own bed.

  “Cut it out, you two,” says Hannah as she walks up to the table, holding hands with Calvin. Looking gorgeous in a sexy black bustier and tight jeans, she pouts playfully. “You’re making the rest of us jealous.”

  Todd smiles, taking no offense. “I can’t help that I have the world’s best boyfriend.”

  “Aww…” Antonio looks like he’s going to turn into a puddle. Another smooch.

  Feeling Calvin’s light blue eyes rove over me, my skin crawls and I regret wearing the skimpy top and tight pants I bought on a whim yesterday. As he slides into the booth next to me, I suppress a shudder of distaste and scoot closer to Todd.

  “You look nice tonight, Maggi
e,” Cal whispers lowly to me. I suck in a breath, smelling his strong cologne, and dart a glance at Hannah, but she’s looking at the dance floor. A hand trails up my thigh and I spring out of my seat, feeling my body revolt with disgust. I say loudly, “Todd, stop molesting Antonio and come teach me some of your moves.”

  “Ugh…I’m wiped, girl. I need a break.” Todd turns and spots Cory returning with my drink. “Hey Cory, go dance with Maggie.”

  Cory’s eyes light up and I feel an uncomfortable sensation in my stomach. He’s made his interest clear to me, but I’ve always pretended I didn’t see it.

  Doesn’t it feel nice to be with someone who’s into you?

  Grabbing the drink from him, I take a big gulp and place the now half-empty glass onto the table. I smile as the alcohol starts to affect me, making my head fuzzy and my limbs loose.

  I pull my lips into a big smile and hold my hand out to Cory. “Come dance with me, Cory.”

  Grinning eagerly, he takes my hand. When our fingers touch, there is no tingling sensation, but there is warmth and acceptance.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sean

  Thanks for the invitation, but I won’t be able to make it. Midterms are starting and I need to study.

  My insides twist with self-recrimination as I stare at Maggie’s polite text response.

  This is the third invitation she’s turned down with a stilted excuse about school and I want to kick my ass for causing the rift between us.

  I should never have kissed her, but when she looked at me with that soft light in her eyes, I swore I lost all common sense. As I bent to kiss her, a part of my wanted her to slap my face, but the bigger part of me wanted her to open her mouth so that I could finally taste her.

  And when she did part her lips…God…she tasted like pure goodness on my tongue. Sweet and innocent, with a faint trace of chocolate from her chick drink. And her signature cinnamon. Utterly delicious.

  She was too damn good for me, but in that moment I didn’t care about anything except for imprinting her flavor into on my tongue.