by D. B. James
From my standpoint, it isn’t too quick to say the words, for him or for me. We’ve known each other for over two years now. We’re wonderful together, and we complement each other. He feels like the yin to my yang. It’s not a question of my trusting him; it’s my fear holding me back from taking the steps I need to take to get to the level he’s at.
Love.
I’ve witnessed the type of love books are written about. Rhys loves Averill with his soul, and vice versa. They’re each other’s missing puzzle piece, and together they’re whole. I’ve sealed my heart away for the last six years. How do I bring it forward without losing who I am?
“Why me, Ace? I’m not looking for a compliment, and I’m not filled with false modesty either, but I truly have no clue as to why you’re saying you love me. I know I’m beautiful—I’ve put a lot of effort into my appearance—but…why me?”
“No one can explain love. Many have tried and failed. You’re you, it’s as simple as that,” he replies.
My heart feels like it’s bursting.
“Do you see me as a victim?” I ask.
“No, I’ve never seen you as a victim. You’re one of the strongest women I know—Averill and you both. You have faced your demons, risen above like a phoenix, and learned to soar. You’re someone who doesn’t take any bullshit from anyone. You can sling out shit as well as take it, and your sense of humor is exactly like mine. You just…fit, but to answer your question: no, you’re not a victim. You’re my Cherry—tart, sweet, and perfect.”
Swoon.
If I thought I needed more time for my heart to feel love, I was mistaken.
“I’m not going to say the words only to say them. They’re worth more than merely tossing them about. My heart wants to say them, but my brain hasn’t caught up yet. I know it’s from what Mick put me through, but I also know this: I made a promise to myself the day our divorce was finalized. I vowed to never let myself get close enough to a man for me to fall in love with him. My brain keeps bellowing my promise while my heart wants me to shout the words ‘I love you’ like they’re nothing. You deserve more. I’m asking for some time before I can say the words. Okay?”
I’m sitting here staring at the ocean’s waves kissing the shore. He stays silent for a few minutes, processing.
“Brant, have you ever been in love before?” I ask. I don’t know much of anything about his dating past—and that’s fine by me—I’m just wondering if he’s been in love to actually know this is love he’s feeling now.
“Once, yes. I loved her, and she loved me back, too, but looking back now, after knowing you, kissing you, making love to you, I wouldn’t say I’ve been in love before. Those feelings back then are a third of what I feel for you, Tessa. Yes, I know one hundred billion percent, I love you.”
Tears of happiness are escaping my eyes, running down my cheeks unchecked. I couldn’t care less. Brant—this arrogant, stubborn, protective, complicated man—loves me with his full heart and soul.
“I…I, uh, won’t say them yet. When I do, repeat every single word of what you said. I’m ninety-nine point five percent positive I’ll want to hear them for the rest of our lives.”
What woman wouldn’t cry after hearing such honeyed words of love? One without a heart, obviously.
“Do you think it’s safe enough for us to go to my house to pack? Tomorrow is my last day at the store, only three hours, and I need to get everything all set for when I leave by the evening. Since I know you won’t allow me to stay there for the night, I’m guessing we’re checking in to another hotel?”
If it isn’t safe, it’s going to cost me a small fortune to buy new clothes, shoes, makeup, and personal hygiene items. Granted, I could ‘borrow’ from the store, the clothes and shoes anyway. Sigh. This is all adding up in my head and I don’t know jack shit, including whether or not I can go home to pack.
“Earth to Cherry.” Lifting my stare to meet steel blue gaze, I see a look of humor spread all over his face. He knows I was spacing out. “What had you lost in thought, sweetness?”
Lifting my hand, I cup his face. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and yet I still question whether or not to throw in all my chips and risk it all.
“If I’m ever going to love a man again, it’s going to be you, Brant Vincent Ashley-Martinelli.” Cupping the other side of his face with my free hand, I bring him in closer and press my lips to his. They part, and once his tongue meets mine, I’m gone, lost in my man’s kisses.
Until someone clears their throat.
“Ahem. Excuse me, this isn’t a private beach. For Pete’s sake, there are children over there, barely five feet away. Get some manners, and take this lovefest elsewhere.”
We’re being scolded by a granny—a legit granny—and oh my goodness, she’s wearing her house shoes! My laugh comes out sounding hysterical—and maybe it is—but this is the best thing to happen all day. She’s who I used to long to one day be, wearing whatever the fuck I want and yelling at the young whippersnappers to take it inside. She’s even wearing readers. I’m laughing louder now, and people who weren’t watching before definitely are now.
“Hey, Ace.” Giggles sneak out as I try to speak.
He nods, letting me know he’s heard me.
“Do you know who she was?”
“No, should I?” he asks.
“She’s me, or she’s who I wanted to be before you. My life as I used to envision it had me becoming an old crone with two cats who wore readers and chased away the riffraff.”
“Honey, you’ll never be an old crone. If I’m sure of anything, it’s that you won’t be alone in fifty years.” He gets up and holds a hand out to me to help me stand. “Before all of…whatever that was, I was telling you I think we can go get your things packed. As far as work tomorrow? I’m tagging along with you. Where you go, I go. No compromises. That’s just how it is.”
Sighing, I let him know what I think about the whole shitty situation. “When I come back from ‘vacation’, things better be resolved. I’m not staying with Rhys and Averill for a day longer than I’ve planned. You have fourteen days to get this crap cleared up before I’ll be back to kick Mick’s ass myself.”
Chapter Nine
Brant
As I’m driving Cherry to the airport, I feel a slight tug on my heart.
I’ve never before been worried about someone’s safety as much as I worry for Cherry’s. Tuesday evening was insanely screwed up. Never wanting her to stress more than she had to, I didn’t tell her I was scared to go back to her place.
When we pulled up, there was no large black vehicle in sight. It seemed we were in the clear for the night. Before we’d left the beach, I had warned her against saying anything about leaving, mentioning names, or other future plans except for going to bed.
Pulling up to the Delta terminal, the slight tug turns into a full-blown jerk, nothing slight about it. My heart aches because she’s leaving. I feel the sudden urge to keep driving, for us to disappear together. Just go.
This is insanity.
We can’t stop the plans I’ve set in motion. It’s like a gigantic set of Jenga, and now I only have to move one piece for it all to come crumbling down.
“Ace?” Her sweet voice breaks through, pulling me out of my head, and in the nick of time, too—I was about to smash the truck into the back of a taxi.
“Yeah, Cherry?”
“Oh, nothing, I just wanted you to be aware of our surroundings. I’d like to not eat taxi cab for lunch.”
“Thank you. I’m going to get out and speak to the guard for a moment, maybe pad his pockets to let us stay parked for a moment longer.” I’m not ready to watch you leave.
Hopping out of the truck, I spy two black sedans parked a ways down in the drop-off line. They’re in the area for another airline, but I’d know those sunglasses and suits anywhere. They’ve followed us from her store. Looks like all of our maneuvers have been outsmarted. It’s okay, she’s traveling under an alias—thank
you, Agent Milks—and I’m praying she disappears into the crowd the minute she’s inside.
Making quick work of speaking to the airport traffic guard, I’m back to my girl before she’s had time to get her luggage out.
“Excuse me, I believe any heavy lifting is my duty, and that includes luggage.”
“About time. It’s heavy as hell. I was struggling to haul it out,” she snaps back.
Grabbing the handle from her, I manage to lift it out easily.
“Show-off,” she mumbles under her breath.
“You’re just mad because I have muscles.”
“I beg to differ, Ace. I, too, have muscles. Have my Krav Maga classes slipped your mind?” She flexes, and it’s the cutest thing ever.
The sedans are finally close, and the guard does as I asked: he makes them move, which means with traffic, we have maybe ten minutes before they circle back around. Not wanting to waste precious time, I haul her into my arms and devour her mouth. Pressing her back softly until she’s leaning against the side of the truck, my tongue licks her bottom lip. Instead of her normal reaction of a moan, she bites my lower lip in return. Growling, I release her.
“Cherry,” I warn.
“Hm? Are you regretting not taking advantage of me in the stock room? Because I’m regretting not asking you to fuck me.”
“My cock is already hard, Cherry, you don’t have to go teasing him now. Tsk tsk, you naughty, naughty girl.” Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me in closer.
“I took advantage of early check-in, so I’m all set to go straight to security. My luggage can be checked in here at this lovely curb, so we have approximately forty-five minutes until I need to be inside. Take me somewhere and give me your cock,” she whispers in my ear while one of her free hands palms my hard dick.
“Get in,” I reply roughly.
Nodding to the guard, hoping he gets my meaning, I jump in the truck and swiftly pull away.
“You’re playing with fire, Cherry girl, and if this truck is bugged, they’re about to get a show. I’m going to be balls deep in your sweet, sweet pussy the minute I can park.”
TESSA
I’m incredibly wet, which Brant will discover in a moment.
Thinking about being away from him for a mere day has me tangled up in knots. The way I can push aside my feelings? Sex.
Hard, fast, hot sex.
Right now.
“The garage on the left—park there. I need your cock, your fingers, or your mouth—now.”
It’s a good thing I’m wearing a skirt, because I’d hate to have to take the time to get out of pants. My hand makes quick work of his zipper as he pulls into the garage. Thank the sex gods they’re on our side and it’s the kind where you take a ticket, not an attended lot. Tires squeal as he pulls into a secluded spot and throws it into park.
“Panties off, Cherry. Climb into the backseat and take off your panties then spread your legs. My tongue is going to eat your pussy,” he growls at me.
As I’m crawling into the backseat, he squeezes my bare ass.
“Mm, stay here if you can. Your pretty kitty is in the perfect place—right in front of my face.”
As he finishes the words, I feel his hands push my skirt up and part my ass cheeks. His tongue moves up and down my folds. When it meets my clit, I arch my back and scream out.
“God, that feels amazing.” Another sweep of his tongue causes my toes to curl inside my shoes. “Right there, yes.”
“You taste like cherries here, too,” he says while his mouth continues wreaking havoc on me. Another sweep of his tongue, two flicks on my clit.
Three.
Four.
“Oh—my—stars. I’m coming, I’m coming.”
Without waiting for me to come down from my high, he gently nudges me the rest of the way into the backseat. His pants disappear and he yanks his boxer briefs down. He thrusts into me, and I feel like I could orgasm again.
“Let go again, sweetness. Trust me to follow behind you. The way your pussy squeezes me…mm, perfection.”
He slides out and slams back in, his finger brushes my clit, and I lose all control.
“Yes—keep doing everything—don’t stop. Don’t stop.” I’m falling in love with him.
Another hard thrust and he’s groaning out his release.
“Cherry—perfect.”
My flight is an uneventful one. I’m not saying I was waiting for anything to happen, but…
The lady sitting next to me has her headphones on, ignoring the world, and I’ve decided to lose myself in a book. I’ve been meaning to read more lately. I’ve been slacking, with all my free time being spent with Brant. The book I was reading at the zoo is tainted. It’s not fair to the book, but now I can’t finish it. Please forgive me, K.A. Tucker. It has nothing whatsoever to do with your words—quite the opposite actually. He Will Be My Ruin was starting to mimic my life, hitting a little too close to home. I feel like there are untrusting people around me everywhere.
One day, I’ll finish it.
For now, I curl up in my seat—as much as possible on an airplane—and start reading the newest release from Sarah J. Maas. The hours in flight are spent in a fantasy land with Aelin and crew. I’ll take fantasy over reality this week. I knew me giving in and taking a jump with Brant wouldn’t be dull the second I looked into his icy blue eyes, and I’m not complaining about him—not at all—I’m just terrified for him.
He doesn’t know Mick like I do. I spent years married to the asshole, and he was a sadistic young man; there’s no doubt he’s even more brutal now. If the things he did to me at age sixteen, seventeen, even twenty-one were any indication, he’s bound to be nearing merciless.
He’s been living in my city. It’s like he knew I was there. Maybe he’s always been watching me, in the background, or maybe it’s not as complicated as I’m making it and he found me by looking online. Lord knows I didn’t make it hard to find me. I went back to using my maiden name and shortened my first name from Theresa to Tessa.
The pilot comes over the speaker, announcing that we’re roughly ten minutes from landing. The weather on the ground sounds horrible. Snow? How am I—a California girl—supposed to handle the snow? Not to mention the freezing temperatures. Sounds like it’ll be a beneficial thing I listened to Av and packed what I call winter clothes, though I’m questioning if I’ll be warm enough. Remind me to never travel to Michigan in February again.
As we descend, I compose a few text messages, getting them ready so I’m able to send them once I can switch from airplane mode.
Me: Ace, I’ve made it safely. It’s snowing. How am I going to make it in this cold? I miss the warmth of your arms already. XO
Me: Avvvvvvverill! I’m in Michigan, bitch. All landed. See you shortly. The pilot said luggage pickup is at carousel seven.
With those composed, I fix my seat, turn off my overhead light, and tuck my book back into my tote bag. I’m excited to see Av and Rhys, but I am not looking forward to filling them in on exactly why I’m here without revealing who Brant truly is.
Shit.
He’s left me with having to inform them of him working with Justin and putting me in danger. Son of a bitch. Pulling out my phone again, I add more to his text.
Me: P.S. Do you realize you’ve left me in a shitstorm? I’ll be LYING to our friends once I walk in their door. Maybe I don’t miss your arms around me after all. Dammit, I’m lying—I do miss your arms, but not you. Shit, another lie. Shutting up now.
It appears word vomit applies to texting as well. I could delete it all and compose a new one, but where’s the fun in that? I’m regretting not getting a hotel suite somewhere tropical with a cabana boy to supply me with endless frozen drinks, sunshine, warm temperatures, and books galore. Minus the whole danger lurking around the corner and needing Rhys’s protection, it totally could have happened.
Thankfully, the landing is a smooth one. Before I know it, I’m standing at baggage claim, and I hear
an excited shriek coming from behind me.
“Tessa! I’ve missed you,” Averill says as her arms grip mine, hauling me in for a hug.
“Missed you, too, and I know it’s only been a couple of weeks.” Though it feels longer, probably because of all the shit happening in my personal life.
“Hey, Tessa. Excellent to see you,” Rhys says from over his wife’s shoulder.
“Reese’s Pieces, it’s lovely to see you as well.”
He pulls something from his black leather jacket’s pocket and places it in my eagerly outstretched hand: a package of Reese’s.
“Thanks for this. You know peanut butter is one of my weaknesses, and the peanuts from the flight have worn off. I’m starving.”
He walks over to the conveyer where my bag should be waiting. It’s lucky he knows which suitcase is mine. Averill’s still hugging me, but at least now it’s from the side and she’s at least set me half free.
“Holy shit. You look like you could give birth any minute. My niece wants to make her entrance, doesn’t she?”
“We have six weeks left, and she’s staying put and baking until then, no matter how eager she may be. I’m glad you mentioned food—I’m craving pizza, ranch, and pickles.”
Rhys comes walking back with my luggage just as she mentions pickles.
“Tiger Lily, you ate before we left the house, not forty-five minutes ago. You’re hungry again?” he questions.
“I’m not hungry, your daughter is.”
Chuckling, I reach for her hand and begin walking toward the exit.
“Lead the way, my pregnant princess.”
Rhys follows directly behind us, not giving us any space to talk privately. Guess we’ll save girl talk for later.
“Tess, uh, Brant called me,” he says as we’re walking.
Feigning nonchalance, I merely say, “Oh?”
“He’s filled me in on the basics, says we’ll talk more once he’s home. Whatever. He didn’t apologize, but I can’t refuse keeping you safe. You’re like my sister. You’re my family.”
