The Road to Rose Bend

by Naima Simone

  “That doesn’t make you a coward.” Her eyes roamed his face. “It makes you human.”

  Instead of arguing, he scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “We can agree to disagree, but either way, I don’t want to mislead you about what I’m offering. Sydney, while you’re right about love, you’re also wrong. I want you.” Her sensual demands still rang in his head, and the residual desire flared brighter, hotter, deepening and roughening his voice. He shifted closer, dipping his head to ensure she could look directly into his eyes. See as well as hear the truth. “I may not be able to give you a heart that no longer exists, but I can give you pleasure. Intimacy. Orgasms.” He inched closer until his nose nearly bumped hers, until their breaths mingled. “It would be not just your pleasure, but mine to give that to you, baby girl.”

  The echo of their jagged breathing filled the room. For several long moments, they just stood there, neither speaking, neither moving. Shock and an answering lust darkened her eyes, and it required every scrap of his control not to cup the back of her head, grip those curls and devour that sweet, sinfully pretty mouth. Sate himself and finally trace the graceful length of her collarbone with his tongue. Then discover for himself if those beautiful breasts would fill his hand. Determine how heavy they were, how sensitive. Find out if she could break and come for him just from his mouth and hands teasing and sucking her nipples.

  He bet she could.

  He wanted to test the theory.

  “You don’t mean...” she breathed.

  “Mean it?” he finished, dipping his head an inch lower. When he spoke his lips ghosted over hers with the merest of caresses. Now that he’d admitted his desire not just to himself, but also to her, he was greedy for her. A leash had been loosed from his restraint. Hell, from his mouth. It was...freeing. “Baby girl, I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean. Especially when it comes to this. I’m asking you to accept this proposal, this plan, this protection for you and your daughter. And I’m offering you my body for whenever you need, for whatever you need. If you want my cock, I’ll give it to you. As often as you want. How you want it. If you need me to warm you through the night and be there for you to hold, that’s yours, too. Let me do all of this for you. Let me be all of this for you.”

  “Cole.” Her lashes fluttered, lowered.

  “Say yes, Sydney.”

  His heart pounded in his chest, mirroring the throbbing in his flesh. Waiting. Waiting...

  “Yes.”

  Relief poured through him, and like a match to gasoline, it set him afire. With a dark, ravenous growl, he tunneled his fingers into her hair, grasping the thick strands and angling her head back and to the side. Like the night before, she clutched his wrists, steadying herself, bracing herself.

  Just before he took her mouth.

  Captured it.

  Conquered it.

  On the tail end of another rumble—or maybe the same one—he thrust his tongue between her lips, claiming her mouth with a lick, a stroke and a suck. And it still wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get deep enough. Couldn’t taste fast enough. Just couldn’t get enough. He was a beast freed from its cage. And he was intent on consuming.

  Without lifting his head or removing his hands, he used his bigger frame to guide her backward across the floor to the couch. Later he might question his dexterity, but now, with her tongue dancing with his and her sexy-as-hell whimpers disappearing into his mouth, he just thanked God for it. Shifting them, he sank to the cushions, cupping the backs of her legs and arranging her in a straddle across his thighs. With rough hands, he grabbed the hem of her hoodie and jerked it up and over her head, tossing it to the seat beside them.

  Her breasts plumped against his chest, and the swell of her belly pressed to his abdomen. The lush flesh with the taut, beaded tips. The hard bump that protected the baby she was willing to sacrifice it all for... The curves screamed what kind of woman she was—soft, giving, selfless, nurturing. He tore his mouth away from hers. Dragged it over her jaw, down the line of her throat, paused to indulge in finally worshipping the strength and grace of her collarbone before lowering his head to the mounds pushing over the top of her black tank.

  Reverently, he swept his lips back and forth over one breast and then the other. Inhaling her rich orchid scent. It emanated from the shadowed cleft that beckoned him, and he followed, trailing that line with his tongue. Her nails bit into his shoulders, a delicious whimper escaping her. She squirmed on his lap, her sex rocking over his cock. Even though her shorts and panties separated them, he swore her heat seared him. He shuddered beneath her, his fingers digging into her hips, helping her ride him, urging her to work harder. Faster.

  “Is that what you want, baby girl?” He grazed one nipple with his lips, then with a hint of teeth. Her breathless cry had his hips grinding between her legs over that so soft, undoubtedly sweet flesh that he’d only sampled in his dirtiest dreams. “Tell me. Give me the words. Is this what you need? Do you want more?” He punctuated the hoarse question by capturing the other peak between the edge of his teeth and tugging. Then treating it to a short, greedy suck.

  She bowed tight, her hands flying to his head. Trying to push him back down to her chest.

  “The words, baby girl,” he ordered, holding her still and rolling his erection over her. He could take her full-body shiver as an answer, but he needed her voice. Needed her assent. Needed to hear that he wasn’t alone in this.

  Yeah, he was a greedy bastard.

  “Yes,” she said. “More. Give me more.”

  That’s all he needed. Drawing hard on her, he lashed the rigid tip with his tongue, and she tipped her head back on her shoulders, her hold on him a vise grip. Another of those needy sounds tore from her and vibrated against his lips. Another. He hungered for another. And another. In this moment, his life’s mission became eliciting more of them.

  Releasing one hip, he brushed his hand over her lower belly and slipped his fingers inside the low-hanging top of her shorts. He paused, waiting to see if she would object. Taking her whimpered “please” as permission, he dipped lower until his fingertips encountered soft, drenched flesh. Oh fuck.

  “You’re so wet, baby girl,” he murmured, sliding between her folds, dampening his fingers then returning to that swelled button crowning her sex. He circled it, teasing, taunting, his touch gentle. “For me?”

  “Please,” she pleaded again, and that word, that tone...

  Hell, she could have the damn world right now. She undulated over him, her movements jerky, uncontrolled. He loved that he could do this to her.

  “I promised you, didn’t I? I never go back on my word,” he snarled.

  He firmed his caress, drawing tighter circles, stroking and rubbing. Cries spilled from her and she became frantic, bucking and twisting over him, chasing his touch, chasing pleasure. Beneath his fingertips, her clit stiffened, and a feral satisfaction bloomed in his chest. So close. This was his first time with her like this and already it was as if her body was as familiar as his own.

  Lifting his free hand, he yanked down the edge of her top, baring her breast to him. Opening his mouth wide, he sucked the flesh into his mouth, curling his tongue and tugging. Savoring. Feasting.

  Feverishly shaking her head, she choked back a scream, went rigid and came. With a curse, he worked her sex, giving her every measure of the orgasm. He whispered praise against her breast, urging her to take it all, not to hold back. As if the words spurred her on, she bucked and writhed until her body sagged against his, her face buried in his neck.

  His body ached with unfulfilled lust. His dick throbbed, loudly demanding to be buried in the sweet flesh his fingers had just enjoyed. But he did nothing to provide that relief. Because he might not have satisfied his physical needs, but contentment hummed within him.

  Gently, he stroked a hand down her back, nuzzling her hair. And he shifted his other hand to the
small bump of her stomach. He felt her tension, but he cradled her belly, sweeping a thumb back and forth. Slowly, the rigidity seeped from her, and once more she relaxed, curving her body into his.

  His.

  She’d agreed to be his. To place herself and her baby under his protection, even if it was in name only.

  He closed his eyes, and a trickle of unease infiltrated his peace.

  Please let him be doing the right thing.

  For all of them.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SHE’D DONE IT.

  She’d married Cole Dennison.

  In front of God and country. Well, at least the small part of the country that gathered at The Glen. Yep. She and Cole had held their wedding and, now, reception, in the midst of the motorcycle rally. Family, friends and bikers and vendors from all over the country had witnessed their union.

  Elation. That’s what should be rushing through her, lifting her as high as the group of balloons that bobbed over the crowd of vendor booths. Oh, what she wouldn’t give right now to describe this pressure steadily gathering against her rib cage as elation.

  But she would be deceiving herself as well as the people gathered to celebrate her and Cole’s nuptials. The least she could do was admit that anxiety and unease coursed through her. No matter how big a smile stretched her face. That was for show so no one else guessed that inside she trembled with worry.

  Worry over Cole regretting his decision.

  Worry over if her parents and his family would accept this marriage.

  Worry over her rash behavior.

  The last one caused her smile to waver for a moment before she firmed it up. How many times had her reckless and impulsive choices affected and hurt those she loved? Carlin. Because of her refusal to donate part of her kidney, her sister had died. Her parents. Carlin’s resultant death had destroyed their family. Daniel. She should’ve never married him in the first place. She’d been too young.

  And now, possibly her baby.

  Cole’s arguments in favor of this marriage of convenience—Jesus, she couldn’t suppress a disbelieving chuckle even as she thought the words—had swayed her. They’d been valid. Marriage to him would counter Daniel’s reasons for seeking custody of their baby. She possessed zero doubts Cole would make a good husband. After all, he’d been loyal, kind and loving to Tonia.

  And wasn’t that the crux of why her stomach churned while she’d recited vows to love, cherish and honor him? He’d sworn these same vows years ago to the woman he loved. He could never honestly give them to Sydney. As he’d admitted in his living room a week ago. She was consigning herself to a future of being second in someone’s heart. Oh no, he would never neglect or hurt her. At least not intentionally. But all her life, she’d never been a priority. Not for her parents—true, Carlin’s illness and medical treatment had come first, and rightly so. And unless Sydney was giving blood, tissue or an organ, she’d always felt like an afterthought, a Plan B, for her parents. And with Daniel, his career had taken precedence.

  She didn’t know what it felt like to be a priority in someone’s life. In their heart.

  But oh God, had she always dreamed about it.

  Craved it.

  It wasn’t meant for her. Because when it came down to it—when the choice was between her needs and her baby’s welfare and happiness—there wasn’t a choice. Her daughter came first.

  So, she’d agreed.

  She’d settled for affection and sex.

  Her cheeks heated and standing amid the hundreds of people celebrating their nuptials and the rally, she forced herself not to fan her face. Just the memories of how he’d kissed her, touched her...

  Jesus.

  She’d lit up like a torch dipped in kerosene as soon as his mouth crashed to hers. Desire and embarrassment collided and she sipped from the glass of cold lemonade Cole had pressed into her hand just after they finished taking pictures.

  Desire, because, whoa. The kiss the first night of the rally hadn’t prepared her for the conflagration that had leveled her on his couch. She’d experienced good sex—even great sex—with Daniel. But what amounted to heavy petting had obliterated her preconceived notions of “great sex.” And Cole hadn’t even been inside her yet.

  She might not survive that “yet.”

  Her fingers tightened around her glass and her thighs tightened around the empty ache.

  Embarrassment, because she’d shown her hand, revealed her vulnerability to him. She’d begged him to touch her. Now he knew how much she wanted him. She couldn’t deny it. She’d basically just given him her weakness.

  With her safety, her protection, her child? She unquestionably trusted him.

  But with her feelings? No.

  And she knew with a clarity that carried heavy resignation, that the more she had sex with him, was intimate with him, the more she placed her own heart in jeopardy.

  But again...her daughter was worth any risk.

  And Sydney had to guard her heart. Remember who she was fighting for. And believe Cole when he told her he couldn’t be more than her friend and lover.

  “You okay? Do you need to sit down?” Cole murmured in her ear. To an onlooker, it might appear as if he were whispering something sweet to his new wife. And for the sake of her pride, she hoped that’s how it seemed. If anyone knew the truth... Jesus, she couldn’t handle the pity or being the topic of hot gossip.

  Well, any more gossip.

  “No, I’m fine.” She turned the wattage up on her smile. “I can’t believe you got all of this together in such a short amount of time. I mean, even a photographer?”

  He winked. “I’m mayor.”

  “Which means, what exactly?” she teased. “You have the goods on everybody to make them comply with your wishes?”

  “That’s called blackmail.” He arched an eyebrow. “Besides, in a town this size, where everybody knows everybody’s business, I couldn’t find any dirt that isn’t already common knowledge.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “True.”

  “To answer your question, though, I have six brothers and sisters and wonderful parents. The people I don’t know, they do. Between all of us, we got the impossible covered.”

  “Do they know about...us?” she asked quietly. Leo did. Sydney couldn’t have held that truth back from her friend. The other woman had been mad as hell at Daniel and surprisingly accepting of the “arrangement” Sydney had decided to enter into with Cole. Hell, Leo had even insisted on standing up with Sydney as her maid of honor. So, yes, Leo knew.

  But the rest of the Dennison clan...

  He hesitated, then pinched her chin and tilted it back. “Yes,” he said, his voice incredibly—terribly—gentle. “I was honest with them because they love me and had questions and concerns. And because they love you, too, and want to be our support system. I had a difficult time convincing Moe that she could not drive down to North Carolina and ‘handle’ Daniel, but after that crisis passed, everyone was adamant about being in this with us. You’re family, and no one comes for family.”

  She blinked back the sudden sting of tears and turned her head away, breaking free of his grasp. Hormones again. Yep, that’s what caused the swell of emotion. Definitely not the joy and sadness that battled it out in her chest. The Dennisons had formed a united front behind Cole, even if they might not agree with his choice, and therefore, they backed her as well. How sad was it that she hadn’t confided in her parents about Daniel’s visit or the truth behind this hasty wedding? Unlike Cole, she couldn’t count on their acceptance, their unconditional support. Call her a coward, she’d told them over the phone. She hadn’t been up to staring their disappointment in the face. To them, their daughter was making another impulsive decision. Fresh out of one marriage and jumping into another. Hell, until she’d walked down that makeshift aisle where Cole waited in front of a gazebo
with Wolf and the minister, she hadn’t even been sure her parents would show up for her. But they had. And well, she took small victories where she could.

  Scanning the crowded field where people were decked out in their Sunday best, or wearing jeans and T-shirts, she quickly located her parents. They stood talking with Moe and Ian and another older couple. As if sensing her attention on them, her mother glanced in Sydney’s direction. Her mother’s smile wavered, then firmed. That phone call last week had been the first they’d spoken since Sydney had visited the boutique. The strain between them hadn’t lessened, the distance yawning wider.

  One she feared even a whole armada of ships couldn’t cross.

  “We should go over and speak,” Cole murmured. She peered up at him, surprised to see a tiny muscle jumping along the hard line of his jaw.

  “Cole?” She pressed a hand to his abdomen. And cursed herself for noticing how ripped the muscles were beneath her palm.

  He glanced at her, and shadows darkened his amber gaze. “I’d like to introduce you to...” He didn’t finish, but cupped her elbow and guided her over to the small group.

  Several people stopped them along the way, congratulating them. By the time they made it to their destination, her face cracking in half from the constant smiling and laughing seemed an imminent possibility.

  “Hey, Moe, Dad.” Cole leaned forward and kissed his mother on the cheek and drew his father into one of those manly hugs that included back and shoulder slapping. “Luke, Patricia, thank you for coming.”

  “Of course,” Luke said, shaking Cole’s hand. “We wouldn’t have missed it. Sydney, you look beautiful,” he murmured, and her mind—or her desperate heart—must have conjured that hint of chafing in his voice.

  “Thanks, Dad.” Clearing her throat, she turned to her mother. “Mom. I’m glad you guys came.”

  Her mother nodded. “Where else would we be? You’re our daughter.” For several moments, she searched Sydney’s face. “This is sudden, but... I hope you’ll be happy.”