by Marie Force
I gasp from the pleasure as much as the residual ache.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says. “It’ll never happen again.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“Not okay.”
“Come up here.” I reach for him and draw him into my arms to kiss and hug and soothe him. “Nothing happened that I didn’t want. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah,” he says gruffly. “I hear you, but I still wish it hadn’t happened the way it did.”
“Let’s move on. Gran always said it’s better to look forward than backward. We can’t change the past. We can only live for right now.”
“Your Gran was a wise lady.”
“She was the best person I ever knew. I wish I was more like her.”
“Why would you say that? You’re perfect the way you are.”
“The girl she thought she raised never would’ve walked into a bar and asked a man to fuck her.”
“That was the coolest, ballsiest, most awesome thing that’s ever happened in my entire life, so please don’t turn it into something you feel you need to be ashamed of. I’d hate that.”
“Will you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“If we ever have grandchildren together, will you promise me you’ll never tell them the story of how we got together?”
He stares at me for a long moment, during which I have no idea what he’s thinking—or if I’ve gone too far down the road too quickly. “You see us having grandchildren together?”
I rest my hand on his handsome face and stare into the blue eyes that have utterly captivated me. “I see us having everything together.”
Chapter Twelve
I’d forgotten how it feels to be really, truly happy. I’d forgotten what it’s like to have somewhere better to be at the end of every day than a bar where no one gives a shit about me—except Jimmy, apparently. Every night I get to come home to Honey, and every morning I wake up to her sweet face on the pillow next to me.
And in between getting home from work and waking up in the morning?
Whoa. Amazing. Just flat-out incredible. I’m not just talking about the sex, which is all those things. It’s her. It’s how I feel when I’m with her, like I’ve come home or something equally cheesy.
I’m incredibly happy, and the people around me are noticing, beginning with the guys I work with who’ve been busting my balls for whistling at work. I know, it’s funny, and if it were one of them who suddenly started getting laid—and whistling—I’d be all over it the way they are.
Doesn’t bother me. Not much bothers me these days.
My parents and siblings have also noticed that something has changed. They don’t know what or who—yet—but they will, soon enough. We have a family reunion next weekend, and I’m planning to bring Honey to meet the aunts, uncles and cousins. She already knows my parents and siblings, but she hasn’t met my nieces and nephews yet, and I’m looking forward to that.
I bet she’ll be great with them, and they’ll love her as much as I do.
You heard me right—I love her. Like I told her—once when I was drunk and again the next day—I’ve always loved her. It pains me to admit that I had a thing for Honey even when I was with Jordan. Not that it kept me from committing fully to Jordan. It didn’t. I was all-in with her, but always, in the back of my mind, was Honey, unattainable, remote, out of reach until that night in the bar that I’ll never forget.
I want you to fuck me.
Before that night, I never would’ve believed that six words could change a life, but they changed mine so profoundly, I almost can’t remember what it was like before she said them. Truthfully, I don’t want to remember what it was like to be lonely and bored and relentless in my efforts to work so hard that I didn’t have time or energy to do anything else but eat and sleep and occasionally indulge in a meaningless screw.
I’m not proud of my drive-by relationships, especially the one I had years ago with Lauren when I was still reeling from the loss of Jordan. She was there for me, and I took the comfort anywhere I could find it. I’ve always been thankful that she doesn’t hold it against me, and we’re still friends. I’m especially thankful now that I’m in love with her best friend, who is snug against me on the sofa as we watch a chick flick that she was dying to see.
An hour in, I have no idea who’s in the movie or what it’s about. Why would I bother to care about that when I have her in my arms? I breathe in the fragrant scent of her hair and think about how I’m going to fuck her. She loves my creativity in bed, and I like to keep her guessing about what’s on the menu on any given night. We go on amazing dates, like the night when we drove out of town so Honey could take pictures of the Marfa Magical Lights and then ate at the Food Shark Museum of Electronic Wonders & Late Night Grilled Cheese Parlour, a local institution.
Life is good. I can’t believe that I, Blake Dempsey, the emotionless machine of a man, is actually saying that, but it’s true.
Knowing how easily I’m able to distract her, I let my fingers dip under the hem of one of her sexy-as-fuck tank tops that I swear she changes into after work so I’ll be hard as a rock every damned night. If that’s her strategy, it works, as does my strategy of distracting her with the drag of my fingertips over her taut belly.
I’m completely addicted to the softness of her skin. I love that she’s lost her tan lines after a few more trips to the swimming hole for skinny-dipping, sunbathing and lovemaking.
When I bought the place, I figured I’d bring it back to life and then sell it at a profit. But now, I’ve begun to picture a life with Honey in the farmhouse that once belonged to Jordan’s grandparents. I see a bunch of little blond kids running around, chickens and goats in the yard and maybe a horse or two in the barn. The more time Honey and I spend out there, the more clearly I see it. I have no idea what she sees in the future, but we have plenty of time to figure that out.
I continue to stroke her skin, working my way up to cup her breast. I love the way she pushes her ass against my cock, rubbing me shamelessly while she continues to watch the movie—or at least I think she’s watching the movie. Pinching her nipple between my fingers, I give it a gentle tug.
“What’re you up to back there?” she asks, sounding breathless and aroused, the way I love her best.
“Just watching the movie.”
“You are not!”
I laugh at her indignant tone. “I am.”
“What’s it about?”
“Some chick who wants a dude and isn’t smart enough to walk into a bar and ask him to fuck her to move things along.”
She shakes with silent laughter. “Are you ever going to forget that?”
“Never, ever, ever, ever.” I continue to tug on her nipple until it’s hard and pointy and she’s actively squirming. “You still watching the movie?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On what else is on the agenda for this evening.”
“Darlin’, you know what’s on the agenda, but you really wanted to see this movie.” I release her nipple and start to pull my hand away. “I’ll leave you alone.”
Her hand on top of mine stops my retreat. Thank goodness. The last fucking thing I want to do is stop touching her. She turns so she’s on her back, looking up at me. “What would you rather do?”
“Absolutely anything that gets me inside of you.” I love the way her cheeks flush and her eyes go wide when I say something like that. What I love even more is when she shocks the shit out of me by grabbing the hem of her tank and peeling it up and over her head and then shimmying out of her shorts and panties.
Wow, look at all that gorgeous honey-colored skin.
“Well?” she says with a saucy grin. Then she raises her arms over her head, offering herself to me. The trust I see in her eyes and in her expression humbles me.
“You’re so beautiful, Honey. Every inch of you is beautiful.”
“You make me feel beautiful.”
>
I flatten my hand on her belly and watch the muscles flutter under my hand. She’s so responsive, and her heart is wide open to me. I’m well aware that I have the power to hurt her. The thought of that kills me. I never want to hurt her. All I want is to make her as happy as she’s made me.
She tugs on the button to my jeans and unzips me. “You’re overdressed.” Rather than go straight for my cock the way I expected her to, she drags her fingers over the hair that leads to my groin. I had no idea why that was called a happy trail until she touched me there, and now it makes perfect sense. Everything she does to me, every touch, caress, gesture and sexy, loving look she sends my way makes me happy.
“Take them off,” she says of my jeans.
I wiggle my way out of them with her help.
“Sit up.”
She seems to be enjoying telling me what to do, so I follow her orders. That pays off when she straddles my lap and brings the heat of her core down on my cock, tilting her hips back and forth and generally driving me nuts.
I reach around her to fill my hands with her supple ass cheeks, squeezing and shaping them as she drags her breasts over my chest. This is the sweetest sort of torture, and I love the leisurely pace, knowing we have all the time in the world to explore and bring each other pleasure. I’m her slave, and she knows it, the little vixen.
“Why are you smiling?” she asks, looking down at me from her perch on my lap.
“Because you’re so sexy.”
“You think so?” She’s the hottest babe in town. Everyone knows that, except, apparently, her, but that hint of insecurity is just another thing to love about her.
I push my hard-as-a-rock cock against her pussy. “You really have to ask?”
She lifts herself up, high enough to press the tip of my cock into her wet heat, sinking down on me in slow increments that have me counting backward from one thousand as I try not to blow my load like an untested boy. The more we do this, the easier it is for her to take me, but we still go slowly at first, giving her body the time to stretch to accommodate me. I never want to hurt her or give her reason to avoid having sex with me.
She winces, and I grasp her ass cheeks to slow her down. “Take it easy, Honey Bunches. We’re not in any rush.”
“I hate when my body won’t let you in.”
I rub my thumb in circles on her clit while sucking her nipple into my mouth. The combination always helps to ease the way, and this time is no exception. “See?” I say as she sinks farther down on my shaft. “You can do it.”
“Hmmmm.”
“Tell me how it feels.”
“Big,” she says on a gasp. “Tight.”
“Those are good words. Give me more.” I pull her in closer to me and gain another inch.
“Hot, wet, thrilling.”
“Is it? Thrilling?”
She takes my hand from her breast and lays it flat on her chest so I can feel the fast and frantic beat of her heart. “You tell me.”
I can’t breathe over the rush of emotion that catches me completely unprepared. Just when I think I can’t feel any more, she surprises me. “I love you, Honey.” I never get tired of telling her that or hearing her say it to me.
“Love you, too. I’m obsessed with you. It’s not healthy to be so obsessed with a man.”
“Yes, it is.” I love that she’s obsessed with me. I’m going to come so damned hard. “It’s incredibly healthy as long as the person you’re obsessed with is equally obsessed.”
She finally takes all of me and throws her head back in complete surrender. It’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen. She is, quite simply, mine. All mine.
“Ride me, darlin’. Make me come.”
Honey bites her bottom lip and begins to move, and fuck if it’s not the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. The drag of her pussy on my cock, the bounce of her breasts, the pulse that throbs in her throat and the flush that heats her cheeks are almost too much for me to take all at one time.
I reach down to where we’re joined to make sure I’m not the only one who’s going to explode. She doesn’t disappoint me, and when she comes, the tight grip of her muscles on my cock is my undoing.
Honey collapses on top of me, and I wrap my arms around her, wanting to keep her close to me for a while longer. Who am I kidding? I want to keep her close to me forever.
“I can’t believe you’re still hard after that,” she says after a long period of silence.
“It’s your fault.”
“How is it my fault?”
“He never gets tired of being inside you.”
She shivers in my arms. “When you say things like that…”
“What?”
“I believe that it’s really possible we’re going to make this work.”
“It is possible, and we are making it work. Already.”
“Please don’t change your mind.”
“I’m not going to. I promise.”
At first I’m not sure what woke me up. It’s the middle of the night. Blake is asleep next to me, but he’s restless. His legs are moving, and with the faint glow coming from the nightlight, I can see his hands are gripping the comforter in tight fists.
I lay my hand on his chest, and I’m shocked to discover he’s drenched in sweat, and his heart is pounding under my palm. “Blake.” I scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder. “Babe.”
He cries out like he’s in agonizing pain.
Alarmed, I sit up and put my hand on his face. “Blake! Baby, wake up!”
He mutters something unintelligible and then whimpers.
I can’t bear to see him hurting, even if he’s hurting in his sleep. Leaning over him, I kiss his face and then his lips.
He comes to with a start, his eyes wild as they dart around the room.
“I’m right here, Blake. You’re okay.”
“I, um…” He scrubs a hand over his face and abruptly gets up to use the bathroom.
While I wait for him, I stare up at the ceiling, wondering what he was dreaming about and whether he’ll tell me.
He’s in the bathroom for quite some time, and when he slides back into bed, his skin is cool and his breathing back to normal. “Sorry to wake you.”
“Please don’t apologize. Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No, not really.”
Stung by his sharp tone, I sink back into my pillow and literally bite my tongue to keep from pushing him. I already know that’s the fastest way to shut him down, so I resolve to respect his boundaries and his privacy, even if I have a pretty good idea of what he was dreaming about.
We’re quiet for a long time, so long that I suspect he’s gone back to sleep. But then he breaks the silence. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be short with you, Honeydew.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.” He rolls over to face me and reaches for my hand, linking our fingers.
That’s all it takes to put everything back on track, at least for me. “I have nightmares about the accident. I always have. It’s one of the reasons I hardly ever spend the night with anyone.” He squeezes my hand. “Until recently.”
“I’m so sorry you have to relive it that way.”
“It’s ironic because I have no memory of the actual accident, but it plays out in living, breathing color in my dreams. I see the truck coming at us, and I know what’s going to happen, but I can’t do a thing to stop it.”
It breaks my heart to know he still suffers so profoundly from something that happened nearly twelve years ago. While the rest of us found a way to go on after we lost Jordan, in many ways, Blake is still stuck at day one.
“I never know when the nightmare is going to come back. I’d understand if you didn’t want to sleep with me.”
“Nothing could make me not want to sleep with you. When the nightmare comes, we’ll deal with it together. You’re not alone anymore.” I tug on his hand and urge him to come closer.
Sighing, he lays his head on my
chest.
I wrap my arms around him. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”
“Honey…”
“I know.” I kiss the top of his head and run my lips over the silk of his hair. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Thirteen
Today’s the day we make our debut to my family, and I’m nervous. Not about whether I want Honey with me, because I do. I want her with me every second of every day. No, I’m nervous because I know this will be as big of a deal to my family as it is to me. They haven’t seen me with another woman since Jordan died. They’ll understand the significance of me bringing a date to a family party, which is why I feel the need to warn Honey.
I bring coffee into the bathroom, where she’s fussing over her hair, not that it needs anything extra to be beautiful. Putting the coffee on the vanity, I kiss her bare shoulder.
“I won’t make us late,” she says. “I promise.”
“Take your time. They’re not going anywhere. It’ll go long into the night with a bonfire and s’mores and fireworks and more food than an army can eat in a month.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she says with a wistful sigh. “I’ve never been to a family reunion before.”
The statement makes me ache for how alone she’s been. “This’ll be the first of many we’ll go to together. My family will be your family.”
In the mirror, I can see that my words have brought tears to her eyes. God, I love her. I love her so fucking much. I love her sweetness and her vulnerability as much as her effortless sexiness.
“I think I’m ready.”
I take a step back to give her room to turn around.
“Do I look okay?”
She’s wearing a simple yellow dress that offsets her light tan. “You look even more gorgeous than usual.”
Resting a hand over her belly, she says, “I’m kinda nervous. I mean, I know your folks and your brothers and sisters, but going there together…”
“It means something.”
She nods. “Exactly.”
“True confession? I’m a little nervous, too, for the same reason.”
