“Ruth?” I say, calling her attention to me. “I have to get out of here.”
She nods understandingly. “Okay. Go into the office and wait. I’ll call Keets to pick you up and take you back to Stone’s.”
“Thanks.” I smile gratefully as I turn the wheelchair around and head for the office, pointedly ignoring Effie and Kensington.
As I wait inside the office for Keets, I can’t get my mind off Stone. I’ve seen him just once since I poured his beer down the sink. I have no idea how he’s doing, but Dr. James and everyone else keep telling me to give him time. He’s been through so much, and it’s important to let the alcohol get out of his system and give him time to adjust. Kind of like a period of quarantine.
I know he hasn’t eaten. I’ve left meals outside his door every night, and every morning they’ve been untouched. No one can go that long without eating and still be okay, can they? Where the hell is Keets? I need to get home. I need to check on Stone.
I sit up straight, my eyes widening and my mouth dropping open slightly. What the hell are you doing, Shannon? It’s not ‘home’. You’re there until your leg gets better, no longer, my brain practically screams at me. A short, stabbing pain enters my chest at the thought of leaving Stone’s house. When did I start caring so much? He’s a friend, and I don’t want anything more. But even as I think that, I know it’s not true. Somehow, Stone has worked his way into my head, my heart. This goes beyond wanting to help him. I want to be a part of his life.
The main part.
The office door opens and I look up, giving Keets a smile as he enters. “Hey, buttercup,” he says fondly, using the nickname my daddy used to call me. Tears spring to my eyes and he sees them before I can dash them away.
“Ah, hell,” he curses, dropping to his knees and enfolding me in his large arms. I hold on to his shirt and let the tears flow. It’s such a relief after holding everything together for so long. Keets is strong, dependable, my best friend. He’s been there for me through the darkest moments, and I’m so thankful he’s here now. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, stroking my back as he places a soft kiss against my hair.
I sit back, exhausted, and wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I tell him on a choked laugh as I look at the large wet stain on his white tank top.
“Don’t,” he says firmly, fixing me with a hard stare. His hand gently wipes away the remainder of my tears, letting me know he’s not angry. “Don’t ever apologize Shan. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, do you understand?”
I swallow hard and nod in agreement.
“Good,” he answers, standing up and moving to the back of the wheelchair.
I keep my head down as he maneuvers me through the main bar area, hiding my tear-stained face from curious onlookers. He pauses for a moment and speaks to Ruth, but I don’t intrude by listening in. I just want to leave. When we finally get outside, Keets helps me to settle in the back seat of his truck with my injured leg propped up before folding up the wheelchair and placing it in the back seat.
I’m silent for the whole trip, and so is Keets. I think he understands that I’m deep in thought, that I just need time to process everything that’s happening as well as these new feelings that are emerging.
There’s no question that Stone needs help, but am I the right person for the job? I’m not an expert, but I don’t think Stone helping out at the bar was the right decision. I need to stop him from being at Saddles altogether. It’s going to be difficult, but I’m sure Ruth and Keets can handle things until I get back on my feet. It’s the right thing to do, for Stone.
When we pull up outside his house, all the lights are out. I wonder if he’s eaten anything yet.
Keets grabs the wheelchair from the back of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side, opening the back door and lifting me into his arms. But instead of putting me into the wheelchair like I expect, he starts carrying me up to the front door. “Keets.” I laugh. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just making sure you get inside safely.” He grins. “You got the key?” I move one hand from around his neck and fumble in the pocket of my shorts, holding the key up. He takes it from me and puts it in the lock, opening the door. I can’t see a thing and as we enter, my head hits the doorframe.
“Ow!” I cry, holding a hand to my head as I laugh. “You bastard.”
“Sorry,” Keets grunts as his legs hit something and he curses loudly. I giggle and shush him, not wanting to disturb Stone. The living room light comes on, and I blink at the sudden brightness.
I glance up and my heart sinks. Stone is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, casually leaning against the doorframe. His face, however, is anything but calm. “Having fun, are we?” he asks.
“Stone,” I say, suddenly keenly aware of still being in Keets’ arms. He senses my discomfort and deposits me carefully onto the couch. I can’t take my eyes off Stone. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. There are dark circles under his eyes and a five-day growth on his jawline. He’s clearly just showered, as water is still dripping down his torso, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. He’s lost weight, his jeans hanging too low on his narrow hips. My heart breaks at the lost look in his eyes. He seems haunted, destroyed.
“Hey, man,” Keets greets, walking over and slapping him on the back. “How are you doing?”
Stone says nothing. He just stands there . . . staring at me.
Keets clears his throat and shoves his hands into his pockets, jangling the keys to his truck. “I, ah, guess I’ll leave you two alone,” he says, walking far too quickly back over to the door.
I don’t watch him leave, don’t hear his truck start up and pull away from the house. My eyes are focused only on the broken man in front of me. “How are you feeling?” I ask, clearing my throat as I struggle to sit up. My eyes widen as he slowly begins walking toward me. “I know you haven’t eaten much the last few days.” I’m rambling. “But Dr. James said—”
“What’s going on between you and Keets?” Stone interrupts, his voice low and kind of menacing.
My eyes widen even further. Is he serious?
“Stone,” I start, holding up a hand. “Keets is a friend, and—”
“Oh, I can see what a great friend he is,” Stone says sarcastically. “Does Ruth know?”
“Know what?” I gasp, not quite believing what I’m hearing. “Stone, what are you talking about?” Surely he can’t believe there’s anything romantic between myself and Keets.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he counters, finally reaching my side. I recoil into the couch as he leans over me, his breath hot and heavy.
Fury builds inside of me at his words. Just who the hell does he think he is? I tilt my head up and jut out my chin, my eyes cold as steel even as I lie beneath him on the couch. “So what if there is something going on?” I seethe in my coldest voice. “It has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“The hell it doesn’t,” he growls. I yelp as his arm slides beneath my legs and he effortlessly picks me up. “Stop it!” I yell, slapping his arm uselessly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m making you forget Keets exists,” he tells me, walking into his bedroom and dumping me gently on the bed.
“You’re what?” I ask, trying to scramble up the bed, but he grabs my uninjured leg and drags me back down before moving over me. I’m unable to suppress the shiver that passes through me the moment his lips touch the side of my neck.
“I said,” Stone draws out. “I’m making you forget Keets ever touched this beautiful skin. You’re so fucking beautiful, Shannon. Do you even know how gorgeous you are?” He punctuates each word with another kiss to my bare skin.
“No,” I gasp, no longer trying to free myself. His kisses are setting my skin on fire, and all I want to do is burn. His hand slides up my ribcage, brushing the underside of my breast. I strain against his hand, trying to move it where I need it.
“Shh,” he soo
thes, kissing the outer corner of my lips. “Take it easy, babe. We’ve got all night.” His fingertips touch the tight bud of my nipple and I cry out against his lips. This, I think to myself. This is what I’ve been needing. His fingers twist, knead, and pluck at my nipple until I’m writhing beneath him. I need more.
Stone seems to know just what I need, and his hand moves from my breast long enough to pull my tank top up and my bra cup down, pushing my breast up to his hooded gaze. My dusky pink nipple stands proudly to attention, begging for more.
And more is exactly what he gives me.
She’s actually letting me do this.
A part of me can’t believe it’s happening, but another part of me is screaming not to stop. I finally have my hands once again on the delectable Shannon Harper, and this time we’re both sober. I’m so fucking nervous. If I had beer, I could… No, I tell myself firmly. This is something that needs to be done without the confidence of alcohol to back me up. She needs to see that I can do this. Besides, if I stop now, she may never let this happen again.
But even as I’m touching her, I know I’ll never be able to stop.
My tongue snakes out and flicks her hard nipple, and I relish the guttural cry that rips from her full lips as she bends her back, pushing her breast closer to my mouth. I’m more than happy to oblige. I close my eyes and hum as my lips close over her nipple and tug gently. Her hands move to my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin through my tank top, hard enough to draw blood.
And I fucking love it.
I’m an animal. Primal and ferocious, ready to pounce on my prey. Tonight, Shannon Harper is the gazelle and I am the lion. I don’t care if she thinks she belongs to Keets. Tonight, she’s mine.
My hand slips beneath the waistband of her shorts, and I growl when I feel the lacy edge of her panties. I don’t stop to enjoy it, though, as I tear my mouth from hers and make short work of stripping her naked, my eyes feasting on her soft, golden flesh as it’s bared to me. I part her legs gently, being careful of the injured one. I look up at her with my head between her thighs, my breath causing tiny goose bumps to rise along the sensitive skin. “Look at me,” I demand, hooking one of her legs over my shoulder, leaving the bandaged one flat on the bed. Her gaze lifts slowly to mine and, maintaining eye contact, I bend forward and trail my tongue slowly over the outer lips of her pussy.
Her breathing increases, loud in the quiet room as my tongue darts out and makes short, stabbing motions directly at her clit before drawing it into my mouth and sucking lightly. She cries out, and I slowly increase the pressure as I slip one finger deep inside her, followed by a second. Shannon makes a low, keening sound as her hips rock back and forth, guiding my mouth across her pussy. She’s so fucking wet. I love her tangy taste. I could do this forever.
My other hand moves to her nipple, twisting and plucking at it lightly as my mouth continues its assault. All too soon, she cries out, and I feel her clench around my fingers as I suck her clit once more. Hard. I’m almost sorry that she comes so quickly.
Almost.
Making short work of removing my clothes, I smile proudly as her eyes grow wide when she looks at my cock. It’s not huge, about seven inches, but it’s thick. Really thick. Not wanting to waste any time, I don’t give her a chance to change her mind. I move to grab a condom from the dresser drawer, but her hand on my forearm stills my movements. I glance down at her flushed face. “We already did it once without protection,” I murmur, leaning down to brush a kiss against her forehead. “I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.”
“I’m on the pill,” she whispers breathlessly, straining against me. “Please,” she begs . . . and I’m lost. Covering her body with mine once more, I pull her leg up over my shoulder, pressing down until it’s almost touching her chest. She’s wide open, wet and ready. I watch her eyes change color and darken as the thick head of my cock presses against her entrance, slowly pushing inside. She’s so fucking tight, I have to grit my teeth and close my eyes to stop from coming too soon. I ease in, inch by delicious inch, until I’m fully inside her. Pausing, I rest my head against her knee as I gasp for air, desperately trying to catch my breath. When I think she’s ready, I begin to move slowly, but Shannon wants none of that. Her hands move restlessly down my back, her nails digging almost painfully into the flesh of my ass, pulling me in deeper, moving me faster.
I growl and sit up straight. She wants hard? I’ll fucking give her hard.
Her eyes almost bulge out of her head as I thrust in and out of her. My balls slap against her ass and I reach down and gently grab her clit between my thumb and index finger, squeezing lightly as I roll it around. She cries out and tries to push my hand away, but I’m a man possessed. I can feel my balls tightening as my cock thickens even more. She feels it, too. Her hand drops, no longer trying to push me away as I continue rubbing her clit. She’s so fucking close, I can feel her pulse around me as she grips the sheets beneath her in her fists. Her eyes are squeezed tight as I feel the first ripple rush through her, pulling me in deeper.
“Open your eyes,” I command, not slowing down as her eyes shoot open. This is what I want, what I need. “Look at me when you come, babe.” My voice is raspy and breathless as I continue thrusting. “I need you to know that it’s me fucking you, no one else.”
She cries out again, but her eyes remain open as she grips and releases my cock tightly. I grit my teeth as I thrust a few more times, and a roar comes from my chest as I come harder than I ever have before. It’s as though fourteen years of pent-up anger and frustration has just been released from my balls, leaving me exhausted but satisfied.
But still wanting her.
I gently lower her leg and collapse on the bed next to her, breathing hard. Her hand gently caresses my sweaty back, and I turn my head to look at her. She’s smiling. That’s a good sign. “Are you okay?” I ask, leaning up and brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead.
“Yeah,” she says in a quiet voice, still rubbing my back lightly. Her skin is flushed a delicate shade of pink, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from licking her from head to toe. Since when was a sweaty woman so damn sexy? Since that sweaty woman is Shannon Harper.
I sit up and pull on a pair of shorts from the floor.
She sits up, too, tucking the sheet around her modestly. I want to rip it away, and I clench my hands into fists by my sides to keep from doing so.
“Have you eaten?” she asks, searching my face. As if on cue, my stomach rumbles and I laugh.
“No,” I reply, still smiling. It feels fucking good to smile.
“Well,” she says, smiling back. “If you grab me the wheelchair from outside, I’ll fix us some dinner.”
“Nope,” I tell her firmly, shaking my head as I lean forward and kiss her forehead. “I’m taking you out for dinner.”
“What?” She leans back, looking at me quizzically.
I nod in affirmation. “I need to eat, you need to eat. It makes perfect sense. Besides,” I continue, standing up and grabbing the crutches from where they lean against the wall. “I want the whole town to see me with a beautiful woman by my side.”
She flushes and ducks her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What about Zeke?” she says, looking back up at me. “Don’t you think it’s time you include your son?”
My smile falters then fades as I shake my head sadly. “He hates me,” I say.
“He does not hate you,” Shannon cries. “He doesn’t know you well enough to hate you.”
“Shannon,” I explain patiently. “I haven’t been in his life, ever. I know it’s not my fault, but he clearly holds me responsible for that.”
“Well, he can’t stay with Ruth forever,” she tells me. “Eventually, he needs to come home.”
“And he will,” I say, ignoring the thrill that runs through me when I hear Shannon refer to my house as ‘home’. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, I promise.”
“Okay,” she gives in, slowly
nodding. “Where do you want to go?”
“Let’s just go to Saddles,” I suggest. Shit. Why did she just go so pale?
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” she counters, shaking her head vehemently. “Not when you’re still getting over your . . . problem.”
I hate to admit it, but she’s right. And right now, that problem is fucking with my head more than I’d care to admit. What I wouldn’t give for just one. . .
“Okay,” I relent. “Where do you want to go?”
Shannon smiles at me and all of a sudden, everything is right with the world. “I know just the place.”
I’m so proud of Stone I could cry.
True to his word, he’s brought me to the one place I wanted to go—the restaurant where Daddy proposed to Momma. It’s small and intimate, with tealight candles providing a romantic ambience at each table.
I pretend to study the menu, but I already know what I want to order. The chicken parmigiana and fries had always been Momma’s favorite meal, along with a white wine.
Wine is out of the question tonight, though. Out of respect for Stone, I’m sticking with a glass of lemon, lime, and bitters with lots of ice. I’m not sure what to say to him. Is this a date? He said he wanted to take me out to dinner, but he never explained what that dinner was. I tug on the edge of my short red dress beneath the table and glance across at Stone. He’s looking incredibly handsome in a black woolen suit. Who knew the man could clean up so nicely?
He senses me watching and smiles, putting down his menu. “Have you decided what you want?” he asks, signaling the waiter when I nod.
After we place our orders, we sit in awkward silence. I can’t help but wonder if he wants a beer, as he’s gazing past me toward the bar. “Are you all right?” I ask softly, touching his hand.
He jumps a little and looks at me apologetically. “I’m fine,” he answers, removing his hand and sitting back in his chair. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.”
Imperfect Page 13
