Unspoken Promises (The Unspoken Love Series Book 2)

by H. P. Davenport

  Tears blind her eyes and choke her voice, “I hate you.” Her head shakes vehemently. She’s actually trembling right now.

  “No, you don’t. If you hated me, you wouldn’t want to marry me.”

  Her eyes darken with pain as tears well within them. “I hate that you hold my love in your hand. All those words you told me, the promises you made. Why? Why don’t you want to marry me? Tell me, damn it!” She clamps her lips to imprison a sob.

  I lean forward, my elbows on my knees. My burning eyes hold her still. “You talk about promises, what about the promise we made each other while I held you in my arms on New Year’s Eve. You promised to always talk to me. To always be honest with me. You promised to never push me away again. What happened to all those promises, Morgan?”

  “Answer me, why don’t you want to marry me. I deserve to know.” Her breasts rise and fall under her labored breathing.

  “I can’t marry you. I won’t,” I say, dejectedly.

  “What happened to us, Lincoln? Where did things go wrong?” she mutters uneasily. Tears slowly find their way down her cheeks.

  “I wish I had the answer, but I don’t.” My voice wavers.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. I’m losing myself. I hate who I’ve become,” she shakes her head regretfully.

  “I hate that I’m hurting you.”

  I get up and sit next to her. I place my hand under her chin, lifting her face so I can see her. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know you love me. That’s never been the problem.” Her faint smile holds a touch of sadness.

  How do two people that love each other repair what has been broken? Can we? Seeing her sad is breaking me. I’m such a dumbass for not realizing how much she’s hurting watching her best friend get something she wants so bad. Something that I’m not willing to give her.

  The ride home takes about an hour with the city traffic this time of night. With Morgan’s hand clasped with mine we enter my apartment. The sound of the door shutting echoes in the living room. I turn the lock and toss my keys on the table next to the door.

  I follow Morgan in to the bedroom. I lean down and place a gentle kiss against her lips. The touch of her lips is a delicious sensation. I raise my mouth from hers and gaze into her eyes. Christian was right. They are sad. How haven’t I noticed how much this is affecting her?

  She pushes up against me to meet my lips again. Morgan showers kisses around my lips and along my jaw. Her breath smells sweet, like the fruity cocktail she was drinking at the wedding reception. The kisses are slow and sensual that drive me wild. My mouth swoops down to capture hers. She parts her lips granting me access to her tongue. Her tongue tastes sugary. My lips recapture hers, more demanding this time.

  I pull away from her and gaze into her dark brown eyes. My hands make their way to her face, cupping her cheeks. “I love you, Morgan,” I say against her hips.

  She bites her lip, and a groan passes through my lips. My chest heaves uncontrollably. It’s been a few weeks since we’ve been intimate.

  Slowly my fingertips pull the zipper of her dress. Once it reaches the bottom, her strapless dress falls to the floor. Her flawless body stands before be in a lacey black strapless bra and matching thong.

  I gently outline her nipples, causing her to suck in a quick breath. Her nipples harden immediately from being teased. I gradually work my way to the clasp at the back undoing it. Her bra falls to the floor and I can’t help but lean down and take her nipple into my mouth.

  Her hands pull on my hair. I press kisses, feathery and light, followed by little love bites as I make my way down her body. Morgan shivers and arches against me. I guide her toward the bed until the back of her thighs hit the mattress.

  “Lie down.”

  Morgan complies and I take her breast into my mouth and suck hard. She moans, when I bite her nipple.

  When I look up, I see a mark on her breast. I sucked a little too hard. I should feel bad, but I don’t. Instead, I feel proud. Possessive. I love leaving my mark on Morgan.

  I rip her panties off and throw them to the side.

  Morgan gasps and looks down at me. “They were brand new,” she says angrily.

  “They were in the way… I’ll buy you new ones.”

  I continue to torture her with kisses along her stomach, her hip, then her thighs. My hands stroke the inside of her thigh. I explore the sexy curves that lead to her tight little ass.

  “Stop teasing me,” she pleads.

  When I find her clit, I suck on her sensitive bud. She cries out and grips my hair and grinds against my face.

  I lick her, kiss her, torture her with my mouth until she is chanting my name.

  “Lincoln, oh, God.”

  I smile as I bite her clit, then suck on it.

  “Don’t stop. Just like that.” Her orgasm hits her hard. She pulls my face against her and grinds against my face. Her other hand grips the sheet as she cries out.

  Her back arches off the bed and her body trembles.

  I don’t give her time to recover as I make my way up her body, trailing kisses along the way.

  “Who do you belong to, Morgan? Tell me.” My voice low and demanding.

  “You,” she moans “Always, you.” Her voice unsteady. She closes her eyes.

  “Look at me, don’t close your eyes. I need to see your eyes. You need to know who is doing this to you.”

  She blinks, then her eyes blaze up at me.

  “I’ll fight for you. Don’t give up on us.” I kiss the tip of her nose and climb off the bed to quickly undress.

  Morgan is ready for me and I push into her with one fast thrust. She cries out from how tight she is. It’s been weeks since I’ve been inside her. It takes a few seconds for her to relax and for her body to adjust to me.

  I pound into her, fast, relentless. Our hips collide, finding a rhythm. My hands grip her hips holding her steady as I thrust my hips against her.

  I pull almost all the way out, leaving just the head of my cock in her. I push back in fast. I continue at that pace, knowing she won’t last.

  “Just like that. Don’t stop. Harder. Please,” she pleads.

  With each thrust of my hips, I can feel the head of my dick hitting her g-spot.

  “Lincoln, I’m gonna come.” Hearing those words, I almost lose it. I can feel the tingling start at the bottom of my spine. My balls are tight, I’m not going to last much longer.

  “Come with me, baby. Let go with me,” I growl.

  Her hands reach around and squeeze my ass, digging her nails into it. I know I will have marks. I smile thinking of it.

  I can feel her gripping my cock. Pulsing around me.

  “Oh…I’m coming. Don’t stop.” Morgan cries out loudly.

  “That’s it, baby,” I cry out as I come emptying into her.

  I let go of her hips and clasp her face in my hands and kiss her. Our chests are both heaving, breathing harshly. When our mouths break apart, I look down at her. I see a single tear run down her face. Something is amiss with this moment. Like Morgan is trying to disconnect from the pleasure and desire and that’s not ever how Morgan is when we make love.

  I brush the tear away, and place a soft kiss on her cheek, “Baby, don’t cry.”

  Another tear runs down her face, which she quickly swipes away.

  I roll off of her and pull her against my chest. “Talk to me.”

  She nestles into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Not tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy tonight.”

  She places a soft kiss over my heart. The heart she owns. The heart that I gave her when I was sixteen.

  “I love you,” she whispers. “I’ll always love you, Lincoln.” There was a gentle softness to her voice, a closure to this intimate moment.

  “I love you too.”

  My body is physically exhausted right now but my heart is heavy with sadness. The worst thing is seeing the woman you love cry. It’
s even worse knowing that you are the reason behind those tears. The harder I try to ignore the truth the more it persists. Was I willing to lose Morgan because of my own fears? Little did I know this question was about to be put to the test.

  MORGAN

  “You wear guilt like shackles on your feet. Like a halo in reverse.”

  – Depeche Mode

  Guilt is a strong and painful emotion. Guilt is like a rock in your heart; a lump in your throat; one that never goes away. Guilt consumes my chest as I lie here next to Lincoln. I feel guilty for what I’m about to do.

  Guilt is what began to destroy us all those months ago. Now we can only blame ourselves for how things have gone to shit. We allowed the distance to form. Did it form from lack of communication? Did it form because our love for each other has changed? Who knows? All I know is that I can’t continue to live like this.

  Last night when Lincoln and I made love, we took our time. We worshiped each other. His hands moved magically over every inch of my body like he was memorizing it. I did the same. I knew it would be the last night we would be together. I damn well prayed it wouldn’t be. But in my heart, I knew it was.

  I prayed at night on my hands and knees that we could get our shit together. But God wasn’t listening. My prayers fell on deaf ears. Sometimes things are so irrevocably broken, even God can’t work that miracle. Our love for each other couldn’t fix it. Love can’t salvage everything.

  I don’t doubt his love for me. I never have. I know without a doubt that Lincoln loves me. That has never been an issue. If I had to put blame on one of us, I would bear that cross. I would wear a sign on my chest for the world to see.

  I managed to push him away because I wanted a ring. Because I wanted marriage. I’m tired of sitting around waiting for him to propose to me. Am I being selfish? Yes. As much as I know I sound like a bitch, I can’t help myself. I want more than what I have with Lincoln.

  Why am I not content with my relationship? Why am I forcing the man I love to marry me? As I lie here and think of that last question that alone reinforces the decision I am about to make is for the best. The best for both of us, not just me.

  Once again guilt overwhelms me. Guilt for what I’m about to do. That little five letter word holds so much power. The power to destroy the people we love. The power to destroy a person. Lincoln thinks marrying someone has the power to destroy a person. Him not wanting to marry me is what destroyed me. His promises are what broke me. He promised me forever, yet his version came with fine print that detailed forever meant not committing wholeheartedly to our relationship by marrying me.

  I’m a selfish bitch. I shouldn’t have allowed him to make love to me last night. But the selfish part of me needed just one more night with him. I needed to be in his arms one last time.

  The sun shines in through the window, the rays of light make Lincoln’s hair shimmer. I stay here in bed, watching him sleep so soundly and I feel horrible. Especially after what is about to happen when he wakes up.

  I need to get this out before I chicken out. This is something that I should have done a while ago. But I kept putting it off because of my best friend’s wedding. I didn’t want people worrying about poor, brokenhearted Morgan. This was Camryn’s time to shine. She was marrying her best friend, the man of her dreams. The man who made her heart complete.

  Lincoln stirs and rolls over, throwing his arm across my waist. He tries to pull me closer to him, but I don’t budge. “Come closer, babe. Why’re you all the way over there?” His hoarse whisper breaks the silence in the room.

  My heart begins to race. My nerves tense immediately.

  “We need to talk,” I say as I sit up against the headboard and pull the sheet up around my chest.

  The scariest part is letting him go. I throw caution to the wind as the words slip through my mouth. The truth can’t hurt us now. “I can’t do this. This isn’t working for me anymore.”

  I shift a little on the bed, putting more distance between us. I laugh inwardly. Distance. That’s all there has been between us. We’re miles apart yet we’re lying in the same bed. That’s been the problem. The distance brought separation. And here we are.

  Lincoln throws the covers back, grabbing his shorts from the floor. He steps into them and turns to face me. His expression clouded with anger. I get out of bed and walk to the dresser to find something to put on. I grab the first thing I see. A pair of yoga pants and a tank top.

  “What do you mean, this isn’t working for you anymore?” he replies sharply.

  With my hands on my hips, I turn to face him. “Don’t act like you don’t know. Like you haven’t seen it, or felt it. Things are different between us.” My voice wavers.

  “We’ve been practically living together, but we truly aren’t together. You know as well as I do that things have changed. We’ve changed,” I say and point between the two of us.

  “We talked about this last night on the way home.”

  “No, you see that’s the problem. We had no solution to our problems. We love each other but you don’t apparently love me enough and I don’t think I can sit around and wait for you to decide if you want to marry me.”

  “I’ve given you everything you’ve asked for, Morgan. You want for nothing.” His remark unleashes something fierce within me.

  “I want more than you’re willing to give me!” I scream back and stiffen at his challenge. Are we really doing this now? We’ve had months to have this conversation. Suddenly the dam opens and everything I’ve left unspoken leaves my mouth. The emotions that I’ve been feeling are finally surfacing.

  “I want more than what you are willing to ‘give’ to me, a handout to your girlfriend, the never-ending unspoken promises you spout that you never deliver on,” I yell. Once those words pass my lips, I immediately feel an acute sense of loss. My heart shatters into a million pieces. Too many pieces never able to be whole again.

  Lincoln is all I know. He was my first.

  My first kiss.

  My first boyfriend.

  My first love.

  My first everything.

  I never wanted those moments with anyone else.

  But things have changed between us. I’ve changed. He’s changed. We’re not the same people who fell in love all those years ago. He will forever have my heart, but I need to love myself more and walk away.

  “Please don’t do this, Morgan.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  He blinks twice. His voice pleading. “Don’t leave me. Don’t regret us.”

  “I don’t regret us. I don’t regret the years we have spent together. I will never regret the memories we made. But that’s what they’ll be… memories. I need to do what’s best for me. Me being with you isn’t what’s best for me anymore because I want—no, I deserve—more from this.” Sighing, I look him in the eye as he stares back at me.

  “My mom told me never fall for a man who doesn’t want the same things as me. She warned me that my heart was going to get broken if I did. You have broken my heart every single day the past few months knowing that we don’t want the same thing and there’s not a damn thing I can do about that to change your mind. The love I have for you isn’t enough. Every day that I hold out, wishing you would feel differently and want to marry me, breaks my heart. I had hope that one day you’d change your feelings on marriage. But you haven’t and you can’t expect me to change my feelings either.”

  I bite my lip to stifle the outcry that is begging to be set free. I need to get this out while I have the courage.

  “You tell me that marriage is just a piece of paper. But that’s where you’re wrong. Marriage isn’t about a piece of paper or even a ring. Marriage is about spending your life with your one true love. The one who captured your heart so long ago. Marriage is… finding that special person… the one you want to annoy for the rest of your life. I thought I found him. I thought that special person was you.”

  “Morgan, please,” he says shaking his head back
and forth. “Please don’t do this.” His voice cracks with tears when he speaks.

  I hold my hand up to stop him. “But I’m not that special person to you. I knew how you felt about marriage. But I thought when you saw how perfect we were together, that you would change your mind. That you would see how great things could be for us.”

  Lincoln’s lips part to speak but no words come out.

  He’s content with the way things are. I, on the other hand, am not. I think I deserve more in life. I don’t want to be his steady girlfriend, his partner in business. I want to be his world…his wife... his everything. I want to be the mother of his children. Am I selfish for wanting these things? Our lives shattered that dreadful night seven months ago.

  Things were going well; we were on the same path leading us back to each other again when we released the guilt we both had over Camryn. But jealousy began to form inside of me after New Year’s Eve. I wanted what my best friend had.

  His blue eyes darken with emotion. “So, this is it? You’re walking away.”

  There is a slight pause. “You’re not even gonna try and fix this? You’re not gonna fight for us? He asks through gritted teeth. His stare drills into me.

  “What’s left to fight for?” I yell with mounting rage brewing inside me.

  He winces. He steps toward me, stretching his right arm to touch my face. “Please don’t do this, Morgan.”

  Taking a deep, unsteady breath, I step back away from his touch. “Don’t touch me,” my voice fades, losing the steely edge it had moments ago. I know I’m hurting him. I’m breaking his heart. But if I don’t do this now, I might never be able to convince myself to do it. I’ll risk staying in this relationship when I want more.

  “Don’t touch you. Are you kidding me?” he sneers.

  He advances toward me. With each step he makes, I take one back until my back is flush against the bedroom wall. Lincoln cages me against the wall, a hand on each side of my head.

  I close my eyes when he leans close to my ear. My heart jolts and my pulse pounds. His breath hot against my ear. Curses fall from my mouth.