The Ground Beneath (You and Me Book 1)

by Stephanie Vercier

  Considering there’re a good number of things I still haven’t told Alli about my life before meeting her, Theresa’s crazy to think I’d be anything less than understanding and protective of Alli for whatever her life was before converging with mine.

  As soon as I pull up in front of the green and white house again, Alli is shooting out of the door, a big smile on her beautiful face. I’m out of my SUV as fast as I can to get to her, pulling her to me, lifting her up and kissing her. It’s when I put her down that I see the man who I know must be her father standing behind us.

  He’s almost as tall as I am, but thin—maybe trim is the better word. He doesn’t look as stern as I imagined a priest to be. The word that comes to mind is easygoing. But he looks like he’d be a formidable opponent if I ever did anything to hurt his daughter, the kind of man that would go into full battle for his little girl.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Briggs. I didn’t see you there.” With one arm still around Alli, I offer my hand to him.

  “That’s all right, Hunter.” He shakes my hand with a firm grip. “Looked like you were genuinely happy to see my daughter.”

  “Absolutely,” I say, unable to stop doing just that, looking into those gorgeous brown eyes of hers. Then I clear my throat, stand a little taller and tell Mr. Briggs, “I care a great deal for Alli, and I hope I’ll be able to prove that to you and your wife.” I look to the house, thinking Alli’s mother might be joining us, though there’s no sign of her.

  “We’ll look forward to seeing that unfold. I’m afraid that my wife is under the weather this afternoon—I’m sure she would have loved nothing more than to be able to greet you, but that will have to happen another time.”

  “We should probably be going, Dad,” Alli says, stepping forward and giving her father a hug. “It was really good to see you, and I’m so glad you could meet Hunter.”

  That’s it?

  I’d only just shaken the man’s hand and said no more than a few words to him, and we’re already saying our goodbyes.

  “Very nice meeting you, Hunter,” Mr. Briggs says, putting his hand out again once Alli steps away from his embrace.

  “You too, sir,” I say, shaking his hand.

  “Send me a text when you make it safely home,” her dad calls after us.

  “I will, Dad,” Alli replies as I’m opening the passenger door for her. “Thanks,” she whispers to me.

  We both wave at Mr. Briggs before I drive off, and we’re nearly out of Coalton before either of us speaks.

  “Your dad seems nice,” I say, still not sure what to think about our very brief meeting.

  “He is. He can be overbearing sometimes, but yeah, all in all, I’m really glad he’s my dad.”

  I nod and take a few ticks to think about that, then say, “I thought he’d want to talk to me more. It kind of felt… rushed.”

  She laughs. “Were you expecting him to trot his rifle out and tell you it would be aimed between your eyes if you ever hurt me?”

  “I did, actually,” I say, laughing along with her. “That’s how they do it in these parts, unless there’s an exception for men of the cloth.”

  “That’s not how everyone does it, Hunter. I asked my dad to trust me, to trust that I know you won’t ever purposely hurt me.”

  Her words fill me with pride, but there’s pressure there too, a fear I’m not worthy of her trust. “You have faith in me?”

  “That’s exactly the right word for it. Yes, I have faith in you, Hunter.”

  Her confidence in me feels… alien. Sure, I’ve always shown up for my job and never purposely let my team down. I do what Sheila tells me, and I don’t make scenes in public or go on drunken benders—well, maybe a few, a really long time ago. But I’ve never given any woman a reason to be confident in me, to trust that I could be more than just another nothing guy flying through their lives. But Alli says she sees it in me, just like that.

  “I don’t want to drop you back off at Sheila’s,” I tell her next, just the idea of having to say goodbye to her in a couple of hours painful. “Would you be willing to stay with me… at my condo?”

  When I dare look at her, her full lips have parted like she’s about to say something, her eyebrows rising in surprise. I want to see where her expression takes her, but I ease my eyes back onto the road, afraid she’ll say no.

  “I’ll text Sheila and let her know,” she says in the next few seconds. “Can I tell her the truth?”

  Relief washes over me like it’s never washed over me before. “Yes,” I say, putting my arm around her shoulders. “Tell her that you and I are together.”

  My condo has never felt like a home. In some ways, Seattle has never really been home either. Josh is capable of being a really good friend sometimes, and I admire Sheila more than she’ll probably ever know, but for all of the supposed friends I have crawling around this city, not one of them has made me feel the way my mom did when she made that popcorn and hot chocolate the Halloween when I was seven. Dad used to smile then too, used to put his arm over the back of the couch, touching Mom’s shoulder while me and Keith and little Billy squeezed in between them.

  “It’s big,” Alli says after I’ve drawn her into the kitchen, turning the lights on because it’s cloudy outside now and threatening to rain. “A lot of room for one guy.”

  “Too much room,” I agree, pulling down glasses from the cupboard. “What can I get you to drink? My housekeeper stocks the fridge with pretty much anything you could want.”

  “I’m not really thirsty,” she says, stepping to my side and putting her hand on my arm.

  But I am. My throat’s as dry as a sponge set out in the blistering sun, making my nerves ratchet up even higher. With Alli this close, just she and I, I won’t be able to resist being as near to her as I can.

  “I want to see your room,” she says, now gripping my arm, her scent something akin to strawberries or maybe even pineapple. It’s something delicious, just like she is.

  “Are you sure?” I wonder if the ten years I have over her have made me overlook a perfectly innocent reason to see someone’s bedroom.

  She nods. “I’m more than sure, Hunter.”

  I grab the quickest drink of water I can, then take her hand, not just grabbing at her fingers but gripping at her palm, holding tight like I’m never letting go.

  My bedroom is the only place in this entire condo that offers any kind of warmth, a room where I keep the baby blanket my Aunt Angela made for me and the stuffed bear Mom bought for me on a shopping trip to Wenatchee. It wasn’t my birthday or Christmas—it was just because.

  “That bear might get lonely if we leave him here, don’t you think?” That’s what I remember her saying when I’d plucked him off the shelf, Keith and Billy down the aisle playing with toy cars.

  “Yeah, he probably would,” I agreed. I was eight then, and I can actually go back and remember thinking I was too old for a stuffed bear and that I was doing the bear a favor because I didn’t really need him.

  “That’s a cute bear.” Alli looks across the room as I turn the lamp on, our hands still linked.

  “That’s Rocco,” I say, unashamed of being a grown man and having a bear in my room. That’s how I feel with Alli at least. This might be my bedroom, but no other woman has ever been in it, not even Theresa. The guest room was for the things I’d done with her.

  “Rocco?” There’s wonder in her voice, and she turns to me and smiles. “And how long has Rocco been with you?”

  I take a breath, count back in my head. “Twenty-one years. He’s been my one constant friend.”

  She looks at me then, her eyes wide and intense like she’s just discovered something new about me, something she likes, and I find myself filled with pride yet again.

  I only let go of her hand so that I can put my hands on the gentle curves of her hips, almost feel the bare skin below the fabric of her dress and her panties.

  “I want to make love to you,” I tell her, words I’d ne
ver uttered before because they’re old fashioned, maybe even cheesy in the wrong situation, and yet with her, they’re true. What I want to do to her won’t be just about sex—it can’t be.

  She nods, brings her soft hand to my face and glides it down my jaw, letting her fingers slide over my lips before she cups my chin and presses her lips to mine.

  I’d been getting hard since the moment she and I stepped out of my Land Rover, standing next to one another in the elevator. But now I’m like a steel rocket, my entire body flush with heat and a deep need to feel every last inch of this gorgeous young woman.

  Her dress, more conservative than her usual wardrobe, still slides up easily over her, leaving her in a pink lace bra and panties and the ankle high boots she’d been walking around in. All of her is beautiful, her face most of all, and it takes a great deal of effort to pull myself away from her lips to move down her neck, down to her breasts that heave with each heavy breath she takes, nearly spilling over her bra.

  I kiss her there, between her gorgeous flesh, reaching my hands behind her back to unclasp her bra and then pull it down and away so that I can hold her beautiful breasts and bring my lips to her nipples.

  Her hands are in my hair, her fingernails threading over my scalp. I think that I’m feeling every possible sensation there is to feel, every good thing, and it’s all coming from Alli.

  I don’t want to be done with her breasts, but there’s so much more to see, more to explore as I bring my lips down along the sweet softness of her stomach and to the hem of her panties. Looking upward, I expect to see her chin tilted toward the ceiling, but she’s looking down at me, her lips parted, a few of her teeth catching the bottom one. I can see in her eyes that she’s connected to me in the same way that I’m connecting to her. This is all about us. I can’t look away from her, no matter how badly I want to slide her panties down and taste everything she has to offer.

  I need to see her eyes.

  Rising from bended knees, I’m cupping her head in my hands and kissing her again while she works on my jeans, the button, the zipper, the denim pushing against my skin as she pulls down. She makes quick work of the buttons of my shirt while I go on kissing her, her hands spreading the material open so that I feel the softness of her skin raking over my chest, nearly lose my breath as she slides a hand downward from my belly button to the inside of my boxers that are ready to split from the strain of my hard-on.

  Clumsily, I guide her to bed, me shuffling because of the jeans around my ankles, her letting out a soft, sexy laugh, taking my hands and pulling them away from her face.

  “Let me,” she says, stepping back a couple of inches and pushing my shirt over my shoulders, the material bunching up over my arms before it falls to the ground.

  I slip out of my shoes and then step out of my jeans.

  She bends down, unzips the sides of her ankle boots and chucks them off so that one of them hits the wall. We both laugh, a short burst of amusement before we fall right back into our very serious connection.

  With a quick maneuver I barely notice, she’s out of her panties now too, and my hands are back on her naked skin, easing her down to the bed. She’s looking up at me, supporting herself by her upturned elbows as she slides further back on the mattress. I watch her, my eyes never leaving hers as I pull my boxers down, my cock springing upward and drawing me down to her like a heat seeking missile.

  I should ask her if she’s sure, if she’s really ready, if she truly trusts me enough to take this step, but there’s no time for that. I’m over her body, brushing the side of her smooth cheek, then spreading her thighs, and then I’m pushing into her, finding both relief and need as I enter ever deeper into her warmth.

  I don’t expect the tightness or the way her breath draws back, the look of surprise and wonder in her eyes that now close as I draw my thumb over her eyelashes. It’s as if this is her first time, but I know that can’t be, not when she was married.

  She grabs for my shoulders as I continue pushing into her, so damn tight that my cock nearly explodes with the friction. I seriously doubt I’ve ever been with a virgin before, but the way she feels, how her body reacts to mine, I just know it’s never felt like this. When her eyes open again, I realize she can probably read the question in my own because she turns away, maybe not wanting to answer what I’d like to ask. Rooted inside her, I stop moving, gently turning her cheek back toward me. I kiss her and then whisper, “Tell me.”

  Holding me tight, she lets out the smallest of smiles and says, “My first, Hunter. You’re my first.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes… really.”

  I’m elated, if not still confused, and I kiss the tip of her nose, feeling both more and less pressure to be just the right amount of gentle but not so much that she doesn’t get what she needs. I lift my hips, pulling halfway out of her, then slowly, gently plunge back into her warmth.

  And, god does she feel good.

  She bends a knee, sliding her smooth leg against my side, then slips her other leg over the back of mine, just that movement making me desperate to spill into her. But I hold out, wanting to make this last, feeling the weight of her choosing me to be the man she has her first time with. I continue to love her, kiss her, to be honored by her choice, and connect with her in ways, both emotional and physical, I’ve not felt before. For her sake, I want to go for as long as she needs me, but I get to a point where I can’t hold out any longer, and I allow myself the luxury of looking into her deep brown eyes as I come, as I empty everything I’ve got into her before I can even think of pulling out. When I finally do, it’s only because I’m afraid I might be hurting her, even though she doesn’t complain, doesn’t say anything at all.

  Is she okay?

  Did I hurt her?

  Already, I can’t stand to be apart from her, so I ravage her with kisses and pull her body close to mine. I say, “I love you,” meaning it with every fiber of my being.

  She smiles, and parts her lips, and I’m desperate for her to tell me she loves me just as much.

  Chapter Eleven

  ALLISON

  “I love you too.” It’s easy to say because it’s so very true.

  He grins, almost crookedly, his smile showing off his white teeth. “You do?”

  “Of course I do. Did you think it was one sided?”

  “I couldn’t be sure. I was beginning to think I was un-loveable.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  He shrugs those broad, lightly freckled naked shoulders of his. “I promise I’m not trying to get pity… but yeah… maybe.”

  “Nothing could be further from the truth. I find you perfectly loveable.”

  “That’s all I need then, for you to love me.”

  We lie there for a while just kind of reveling in one another. I love the way he strokes my naked skin with his big, warm hands, and that he isn’t afraid to kiss every single part of me. I could let go, let myself fully relax having just experienced sex for the first time with a man I absolutely love, but there’s still something I need to tell him, to explain why I was a virgin before I walked into this bedroom. I’m not keen on rushing my honesty though—I want a little more time to just be with him, to lie in our afterglow without having to bring in the past.

  I’m allowed that time, me falling asleep in his arms, then waking up with his light still on. It’s completely dark outside, and I almost expect that Hunter will be gone, but he’s right next to me and grips my shoulder when I stir.

  “Hey, sleepy head,” he says as I turn to him. “I was getting lonely without you.”

  “Sorry. I guess you wore me out.”

  “Don’t be. You needed your sleep, and I just woke up ten minutes ago.”

  “What time—”

  “Just past midnight.” He slides his finger across my lips. “Plenty of time to talk if we want to.”

  “Before I have to go to work,” I say, wondering just how I’ll answer Sheila’s questions c
ome morning. “I’ll have to stop at the condo—I don’t even have a change of clothes here.”

  “We’ll figure it all out. But right now… this is our time.” He places his hand over my stomach, so very close to my center. “Are you okay? Sore?”

  Physical discomfort wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when I woke up, but now that he mentions it, I have to admit that for all of the pleasure he’d given me, there’d been some pain. “Yeah, I’m okay, but a little sore too,” I say.

  Hunter’s size came as a bit of a shock, but then maybe the true shock was just seeing it up close and personal. Even being a virgin and the daughter of an Episcopal priest, I wasn’t blind to the mechanisms of sex or how varied the sizes of the male member were. I’d done my due diligence in learning about sex, reading articles, looking at pictures and watching videos because I wanted to be knowledgeable, to be prepared. The preparation had been for Wyatt who doted on me, held me and kissed me and told me I was perfect and beautiful while making it clear I’d remain innocent until our wedding night. Innocence was one thing, but I hadn’t wanted to be clueless too.

  “I’m sorry,” he tells me with eyes that show real concern.

  “Don’t be. It was wonderful.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Your first time,” he says, like he’s still figuring out why in his head.

  “You want to know why, don’t you?” I ask. No sense in putting it off now.

  His brows rise. “Only if you want to tell me. I’m curious, but your past belongs to you, Alli.”

  I smile, might even laugh a little.

  “What?”

  “It’s just, when I first came to Seattle, I would have never imagined something as sensitive as that coming out of your mouth.” Not that I would have imagined in a million years I’d lose my virginity to him either.

  “I’m a pretty good actor then.” He attempts to cover that with a laugh of his own, but there’s something… tragic… beneath there too.