If I Love You

by Tmonique Stephens

  Fuck! The entire scene played out in his mind. Living that shit down in a town this small couldn’t have been easy. Yet, he had to ask, “Do you still love him?”

  Disgust flashed across her face. “Oh, God, no! I hated him, but I don’t even feel that anymore. I just want…” she paused, her gaze shifted to the wooden beams overhead.

  “Tell me, Kensley. Tell me what you want.” He needed to know, had to know.

  Her gaze dropped to his. Those green eyes of hers, he could stare into for hours focused on him and not the past.

  “I don’t want to be the object of speculation. I can’t stand the whispers when I enter a room or walk by. I can’t stand the pity. If I stay in this town, that’s all I’ll ever have.”

  “Is that all you want?” He pushed for more.

  She bit the corner of her lip, but her gaze stayed locked on him. Slowly, the pain on her face faded, replaced with a simmering passion. “No,” she whispered. “I want…” She paused, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. “Hell, I want it all.”

  And that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

  Nineteen

  Kensley did want it all, everything that was out there, in the world waiting for her. Finally, she said it out loud, spoke her desires. Somehow, voicing them made it real. She wanted to be happy, be loved. Someday, she wanted children. And she did want to leave Sessory Corners, not because she was running away, but because she’d outgrown it. There was a world waiting out there. While she left for school, she came running back at the first opportunity. Her grandmother had been fine until she fell, and an aneurysm ruptured in her brain. She had a quick death, not a lingering disease that required someone to attend her. Kensley came back to her small-town life because the world was too big, and she was afraid.

  Kevin wasn’t afraid. Her brother feared nothing. Not even death. Yeah, his life was cut short. But he had a life that he loved. Friends that he loved, and she knew, without a shred of doubt, he died saving those friends.

  Noah sat back in the chair, completely relaxed, king of his domain. His brow furrowed and his head cocked to the side. “You came all this way to ask about Meghan?”

  That would be no. The question about Meghan slipped unbidden from her subconscious without a filter. “I came to apologize.”

  “Oh.” His brow shot to his forehead, and again he planted his elbows on the table and leaned forward, eager for more.

  “I kicked you out of my home when I shouldn’t have. I lumped you and my father together when I shouldn’t have.”

  One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “You were upset and had every right to be.”

  Upset put it mildly. Her father brought out the worst in her. They were at opposite ends of the spectrum. Always had been. Her last living relative and they couldn’t be in the same room. “I also came to thank you for the bail money. Thank you.” She poured all the sincerity she could into those two words. “No one has ever done anything close to what you have.”

  Noah stood and held out his hand. He gave her a choice. Going or staying. She took his hand, then wavered between pulling away and what? Staying? For what? More disappointment? From birth, every man who has ever been important to her had let her down. Her father leaving. Her brother dying. Her fiancé cheating.

  She studied her host. The way he stalked her with an easy grace had her blood simmering. She wanted him, couldn’t deny it. But to let him in again risked losing herself. A bad habit she had with men. A habit she swore not to repeat.

  Except, she wanted Noah. Her throbbing nipples and the ache in her pussy wouldn’t let her lie, not to herself. Could she risk it? Should she?

  No. It wasn’t worth the risk because Noah wouldn’t be any different. In the end, her heart would be in her hand, bleeding out.

  Yet, she allowed him to pull her from the chair. “I should go,” she whispered, and didn’t move from her spot. How could she with the charge zipping up her arm, across her nipples and down to her pussy all from his proximity?

  “You just said you wanted it all.” Low and deep, his tone was another blow to her resolve.

  Of their own accord, her fingers threaded through his. He brought her hand to his lips to brush his mouth across her knuckles. The softest touch, and there went another blow.

  “I’m not stopping you, but I don’t want you to go. Stay.”

  That crash at the back of her mind was the last of her resolve tumbling. She took a single step forward. Noah erased the distance between them when his free hand landed on her hip. A gentle nudge and they had full frontal contact. The heat of him, the hard body cushioning her, hell, the impact of her breast to his chest, her stomach to the bulge in his crotch, all of him set her aflame.

  Her gaze locked onto his mouth. Those full lips had peeled back from his teeth in a lusty scowl. He fought the attraction as did she. He must’ve realized it was a bad idea. Good, she wasn’t alone in her practical conclusion.

  Seeing the lust swirling in his chestnut-colored eyes, knowing it mimicked the fire storming her body… Kensley was many things. A coward wasn’t one of them.

  That’s why she rose onto her tiptoes and brought him to her. Because she had too.

  His lips were firm and warm, tasted of beer and gravy. Her head tipped back, and she giggled at the absurdity of him, tasting like dinner. His head dipped to her ear as he released her hand in favor of gripping the back of her neck. He trapped her against him. She wasn’t going anywhere, and she didn’t mind. Not. At. All.

  “Share the joke,” he breathed in her ear, sending a tingle down her spine, and heat to her core.

  Instead of sharing, she licked the seam of his lips and moaned. “You taste so good.” His nostrils flared, then their lips met, openmouthed, firm against soft. The time for laughter was over.

  He scooped her up, and all she could do was wrap her legs around his hips and hold on. Each slide of his tongue was punctuated by the hard grind of his hips. The bar of his cock rubbed right over her clit. She moaned, pleasure spreading through her system.

  He carried her from the table, up the stairs, to his bed in the loft. He unraveled her and let her slide down his body until her feet touched the ground. No permission asked, he yanked her sweater off and shoved her pants down. He paused to appreciate the view, the body, and the lacy black matching set. She wore them as if she knew they would be on view.

  The hunger in his eyes… Oh, shit, he was about to wreck her world. The image of him ripping her underwear took front page in her head. That two-second pause was all it took for her to be tossed onto the bed, face down, ass up. Her panties stuck to her crotch, she was so wet. Her breath caught waiting for him to follow through and rip the clothes off her willing body.

  A finger traced from the crack of her ass to her swollen lips, teasing her when she needed skin on skin, dick in pussy. That finger settled over her clit, circling…circling. She reached behind to yank her panties down and got her hands slapped for the effort.

  “Hands above your head.”

  Instantly, she obeyed and curled her fingers into the comforter. That finger of his went back to stroking her clit through her panties, driving her wild. She tried to spread her legs, give him complete access, but her knees were trapped in her jeans. She couldn’t move the way she wanted to, not her body, not her hands, and that made her hornier and desperate. She rocked her hips, trying to create the friction she needed to take her over the edge. The bastard lightened his touch.

  About to beg, he grabbed her panties and slid them off her ass and down her legs. The finger returned at the top of her crack and trailed down to her soaked lips, teasing again.

  Struggling to free her trapped limbs from her pants and underwear, Kensley whipped her head around and snarled, “Take my pants off.”

  Two fingers parted her flesh and pumped deep into her pussy. She sighed, finally content, only to be jarred by a sharp slap to her ass. The sting on her ass combined with the thick fingers twisting against her wall, she moaned and stuck he
r ass out for more.

  He leaned over her. Fingers invading her, yet she felt the hard length of his cock pressing against her ass, his front touched her back and his breath on her neck. “No one tells you how to suck cock. No one tells me how to play with my pussy.”

  His pussy. “Yesss.”

  He eased off her and took his magic fingers with him. She whimpered from the loss, then gasped at the first touch of his tongue on her sensitive flesh. He delved inside her folds, parting her with a single slide of his tongue. Pleasure rolled through her, and she twisted her hips, chasing the object torturing her with every swipe. He took no mercy on her quivering flesh, each lash of his tongue caused her hips to buck and writhe until a hand connected with her ass again and ordered her to, “Be still or I’ll stop, and I know you don’t want me to stop.”

  I’ll be good. I swear. “Don’t stop,” she whined, not recognizing the husky lilt of her voice.

  “You taste so fucking good. You know that?” he growled against her flesh, kicking off a wicked spasm, resulting in a gush of wetness. Panting, trying to hold off the inevitable, she rolled her hips through the pleasure. Tension strung her nerve endings tight. She didn’t want to come, not yet. It was too soon, she’d never come so fast, but he had her there, about to tip over into the ether.

  “Baby.” He went wild, lapping, slurping the flood, and filling her pussy with two fingers.

  A hard stroke of his tongue lashed across her clit, ripping a cry from her throat, then she lost the ability to speak, to think, as she orgasmed in sweet ripples spreading from her core. Her back arched, and Noah peeled her lips opened and speared her with his tongue while his thumb continued to work her clit, a maestro fine-tuning his instrument. She was the instrument, and he could play with her all day and all night long. He rung every last shudder from her pussy as she buried her head in the bed and slumped, not an ounce of energy left in her limbs.

  Noah followed her down and continued to lap up her cream. He fed from her as if she were his last meal. No recovery period, not a second to catch her breath, he kept her desire balanced on a scalpel’s edge until she sobbed for him to fuck her. “Please God, please, Noah. I need you. Now!” she pleaded on a moan.

  Quickly, her boots were unlaced and pulled off her feet. Her pants, panties, and bra were treated the same. Then she was back on her knees, legs spread wide with Noah between them. She peered over her shoulder. He had his thick, hard cock fisted while rolling a condom over the angry length. Their eyes met, pure unadulterated lust swam in his depths. One hand gripped her hip while the blunt head nudged her entrance, then slid home in one powerful thrust. She gasped at the wounding fullness as she stretched around his cock. Finally, the emptiness was gone, and she was blissfully filled.

  She moaned and ground her pelvis against his. A sharp hiss and he pulled out, his pace unhurried as he sunk deep into her. “Yes, Noah.” With a precise rhythm, he drove into her, ending with a grind on the downstroke against her womb. It was incredible, mind-bending. No one had ever been so deep he was a part of her.

  He groaned thickly, his hands clamped on her hip. He pinned her to the bed. She couldn’t move, didn’t want to. She wanted him to move, desperate for the friction only he could provide. One the verge of begging, he pulled back. The loss of his thickness was acute, leaving her with a hollow ache until he thrust back inside.

  Biting her lip, she swallowed her relieved cry. He needn’t know how close she came to sobbing for his cock. She threw her hips back and fucked him, hard. Together, they created a symphony of flesh meeting flesh, groans and soft cries morphing into sharp pleas and grunt as the pleasure blasted through them.

  Kensley gripped the sheets, buried her head in the fabric, and screamed. Exploding into a billion fragments, she shattered. Her orgasm, so intense it verged on pain, she collapsed.

  Noah wasn’t done. His thrusts erratic, his weight pressed her into the mattress, but he didn’t stop sliding into her quivering pussy, drawing her orgasm out until it doubled back on itself and she came again in sweet blissful waves. “Noah,” she cried as pure sensation blanked her mind.

  He stiffened, his entire body a hard slab of muscles, his breath harsh on her nape until her name was nothing but broken syllables as his cock kicked deep inside her. He reached between her and the mattress to find her clit for a final fluttery ripple of her core. He was trying to kill her. Death by orgasm. She wanted that on her headstone.

  Before his weight registered and the lack of oxygen became an issue, he pushed up onto his elbows and eased out of her body.

  She lay there, sweaty, panting, heart banging against her ribs, the last remaining flutters of her orgasm teasing her. Sprawled on her right, Noah was in the same condition.

  Now comes the awkward moment.

  He rose from the bed and padded down the stairs. She heard him in the bathroom and took the opportunity to climb out of the tangled sheets. Panties and bra, that’s all she’d managed when he returned gloriously naked with two beers. His gaze swept over her, a frown drawing his brow together.

  For the first time, she felt self-conscious, naked in a way completely different from the absence of clothing. Bile rose, burned the back of her throat. She snatched up her pants. They didn’t go through the awkward moment the last time they were together. He was gone when she woke, out for coffee and pastries. That awkward moment happened fully clothed and in her driveway.

  She peeked at him from under her lashes and fumbled with her jeans. “I’m gonna get out of your way.”

  Without a word, Noah dropped the beers on the nightstand. She turned away, giving him her back while she fought to keep her eyes dry and stuff her foot in a leg.

  He tackled her, scooped her up. She yelped, struggled. “What are you doing?” she demanded, secretly pleased. He tossed her back onto the bed. She bounced once, then he had her jeans stripped from her legs and flung over his shoulder.

  A sensuous, yet playful smile graced his lips. Like a predator, he caged her between his arms until she stopped moving. Anticipation had her hands curling over his shoulder to bring him even closer, close enough to count the tiny black flecks mixed with the chestnut of his eyes.

  “It’s snowing outside.” He ran a finger up the inside of her thigh.

  Nervous, not quite knowing what to make of the man in front of her, she smiled, tentative about the excitement bubbling in her veins. “So? It’s February.”

  He traced a lazy design over the crotch of her panties. Her mouth dried as the pleasure began all over again. He slipped his finger under the edge of her panties and dipped back into her wetness. “Do you know what lovers do in February when it’s snowing?”

  She bit her lips and all thoughts of leaving—left. Wait… He said lovers.

  Her panties went the way of her jeans. Her legs parted of their own accord, and Noah settled right back between them. Surrounded by his heat, his strength, he cupped her face and looked deep into her eyes. “They make love all night long.”

  Twenty

  Bacon and coffee teased Kensley’s nose. Her stomach rumbled. She rolled over onto her back, but sleep continued to cling. She didn’t want to wake, not yet. Not when warmth cocooned her in a snug embrace. Plus, her body ached in the most delicious way. Her breasts and between her legs tingled. How many times had she orgasmed? She’d lost count and wasn’t that how it should be?

  The bed shifted, and before she got her hopes up, a wet nose shoved against her throat, followed by a long, sloppy lick.

  “Bear.” She tried to hide under a pillow, but that just excited him to hunt for her. One hundred and twenty pounds of dog burrowed under the covers. It was easier to give in than fight a losing battle. “Alright. You win.” She flung back the covers giving the Malamute freedom to smother her with doggie kisses. Between licks, she glanced at the digital clock on top of a crate that doubled as his night table. Seven a.m. on Saturday. The office opened at ten. No need to rush.

  “I think I have competition.”

/>   She heard Noah before she saw him, then he was there, cresting the stairs and striding across the room with two plates of food and two mugs of coffee. Bare-chested with a pair of sweats hanging low on his hips, he was the food she wanted, needed.

  “Off, Bear.” He commanded. Bear whined, then stepped on and over her to hop off the bed. He didn’t go far, not with the prospect of food hitting the floor.

  Noah dropped the mugs on top of the crate while she shifted into a seated position with the pillow propped behind her back and the comforter hiding her nakedness.

  “Good morning.” He passed her a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

  “It is a good morning,” she said with a sly smile as she took the plate. It was the best morning she’d had in a very long time. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  “My pleasure. I have a vested interest in keeping your strength up.” His grin was heavy on the innuendo, and she loved it.

  “I have to work today.” She ate a forkful of eggs. They were good. Fluffy with cream and cheese, her new favorite.

  “Yeah?” He looked a bit disappointed. “How long?”

  “Saturday hours are ten to four. Today it’s my turn.” Unfortunately. She wanted nothing more than to stay in bed all day, with him keeping her company. She grabbed her mug and took a sip. He’d done a good job. It had the perfect amount of sugar and cream.

  “That means we have a couple of hours to play.”

  And she had a list of games she wanted to try and never had the courage. ’Til now. “Hey, what do you do for a living or are you independently wealthy?”

  Just like that, his mood changed. With half his food left, he placed it on the floor for Bear to finish. “Medical discharge from the military and a small inheritance from my paternal grandfather.”

  He dragged a hand through his hair, down his neck and over the puckered scar on his ribs. His head hung loose on his neck, and he seemed to vanish within him, to someplace she couldn’t follow. “I’m not a deadbeat. I’m contemplating what my next step is.”