Happily Ever Hers

by Delancey Stewart

  This was two people locked together in an exploration of the possibility that united, they were each more—stronger, freer, more entirely themselves even as they were part of another.

  When Jace began moving inside me, I was already lost, my mind having detached in its futile efforts to categorize and understand the wild unfamiliar sensations rocketing through me. I was nerves and skin and breath, heartbeat and hot, wet need.

  I moaned as the joy and want mingled and built inside me—a helpless passenger along for the ride. Jace brushed the hair from my face, stared into my eyes, and then kissed me, his body pumping into mine as every thrust ratcheted me higher.

  With my legs wrapped around him, my body more open and accepting than it had ever been, I was wild, I was unbound. I was his.

  I was arching up to meet him, my body and heart a swirl of sensation as I felt myself nearing some terrifying abyss, some place I'd never seen or imagined. But I knew that wrapped in Jace's arms, connected to him, it would be safe to fall, safe to let myself go completely. And when his rhythm began to break down, the grunts coming from him becoming more urgent, less controlled, I dug my fingernails into his back and held on with everything inside me as we flung ourselves together from the edge.

  And my life shattered into pieces that flew out far and wide in a burst of light and air and sound, as my body exploded. And then, in a tangle of breath and sweat and sheets, it came back together and I felt myself release in a different way, letting go of so many things I'd held onto for far too long, letting go of things that would make it harder for me to hold Jace.

  Jace's head was bent next to mine, his body still around me, over me, inside me, as he regained his breathing. His hands still held me, his skin pressed to mine everywhere in a slick constant kiss. After a few minutes, he slid to one side and I turned with him, not wanting the separation I knew would come.

  We lay facing one another, our eyes open and hands moving slowly over skin for long silent minutes. Jace traced fingers over my lips, my cheek, down the length of my nose, making me smile.

  I let my fingers explore his neck, the dip of his collarbone, the bulge of his shoulder. The beautiful Celtic knot inked into his chest.

  Finally, I found my voice. "Are you okay?"

  His eyes, always intense, had lost some of the pain I'd seen there earlier, and they met mine as he said, "yeah."

  "Your family?"

  "Not as good." In whispered tones, he told me then. He told me about his little brother, about seeing him broken and beaten, suffering through withdrawal. About his mother coming to the hospital and collapsing in a desperately sad pile next to her younger son's bed. About holding them both and feeling like they were already lost.

  "Don't say that," I told him, thinking about what it would be like to find Tess that way. My chest ached.

  "I don't know how to help him. But I've got to try."

  "Will they put him in some kind of rehab while he's in jail?" I asked. "Or give him time to go through a program before, maybe?"

  Jace's hand stilled on my arm. "I don't think it works that way. Maybe in prison they have something like that. I don't know."

  I thought about the little house in Brentwood, about Jace's mom, and took a chance, knowing the proud strong man in my arms might accept my help if I could phrase it the right way.

  "I don't know what to do about your brother," I began.

  "Me either."

  I put a finger on his lips, wanting to get the rest out before he stopped me. "But maybe your mom would be better in a safer neighborhood. Maybe she could move somewhere you wouldn't have to worry about her, somewhere closer. What if—"

  He pulled my hand away from his mouth and gave me a sad smile. "I can't afford more, Juliet. I'm doing everything I can for her. I reinforced the window locks and replaced the deadbolt yesterday."

  I wanted him to listen, to let me help. "I have a house in Brentwood. A cottage really, small. Two bedrooms. I don't use it."

  "No." His face turned hard.

  "It's just sitting there empty. It's a great neighborhood." I didn’t understand his refusal.

  "No." He dropped his hand, began to move away.

  "Wait, Jace." I pulled him back to me, stared at his face until he met my eyes again. "Please let me do this."

  "Juliet—"

  "Listen," I said, my voice harder than I'd intended. "I'm like this ineffectual flower kept in a box. I can't do anything, I can't affect anything. My life is about pretending—that's my job. And my job makes it so I can't have a real life—I can't leave my house, I can't have any real influence on anything important, I can't do anything. But I can do this. I can help. Will you let me? Please?"

  He stared at me, his eyes unblinking for long seconds, and then he closed them and let out a breath. "No, Juliet. I can't let you do that."

  "What would your mother say? Would she say no?"

  I watched his brow crease, his eyes squeeze harder as he thought about her, and I knew he was close to saying yes.

  "Don't be proud, Jace. Please let me help. If your mother was in a safe place, you could both focus on taking care of your brother." I waited for his final answer, feeling like everything depended on his words.

  "I pay you rent," he whispered, his eyes still shut.

  "No, don't—"

  "I'll do it if I pay you rent," he said, opening his eyes to fix me with a determined stare. "I can't handle charity. I know you have a lot to give, that you support those women’s shelters. But I’m not like that … I can’t be a charity to you.”

  “You’re not, Jace.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “I want to say no, but I can’t. It’s my mom. So please let me pay rent. I know I can't pay what you'd rent it for to someone else. But it can't be free."

  "Okay, sure." I tried not to let the relief I felt turn into a wide smile. He was going to let me help—I was going to be able to actually DO something. Something real.

  He sighed, and the fight all went out of him. I felt it in the way his limbs loosened, the eyes lost their fire. "God I'm tired," he whispered.

  And for the rest of the long night, I held him, sensing that as much as I'd needed to feel powerful and capable for once, Jace needed to feel like he could finally let down his guard.

  We spent the night in a kind of reversed state of being, and I guarded him fiercely, keeping him close in my bed and warding off whatever demons might keep this strong capable man from the sleep he deserved.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jace

  I awoke in Juliet's bed, sunlight filtering in like fairy dust through the thin gauzy shades over her window. The night before rushed back, the pain, the worry, the fear, and finally the release I’d found in Juliet, in her understanding. Her companionship.

  Juliet was facing away from me, her back rising and falling in a soft steady rhythm as she snored.

  I pushed myself up on an elbow to consider her. She was delicate and fine, soft and gorgeous. And she snored like a squirrel trying to suck chocolate pudding unsuccessfully through a straw. Loudly. With a lot of saliva involved somehow, making the sound especially wet and slurpy.

  A smile pulled at my lips as I thought about the incongruity of that—perfect Juliet sounded like a drowning rodent when she slept. And I loved it.

  I closed my eyes again, remembering what she had looked like beneath me, my arms still tingling at the feel of her there between them. She was soft and forgiving, but when I thought about our conversation before we'd gone to sleep, I realized she could be fierce too. And I'd drifted to sleep in the circle of her arms, feeling guarded and watched over. I hadn't felt that way since Mom had sat next my bed when I was a kid. Like it was someone else's turn to keep watch. Like I could finally breathe easily.

  The slurpy snores halted and I opened my eyes. When they didn't start again, I turned my head, worried. Was Juliet suffering from sleep apnea? Had she quit breathing?

  I dropped a hand onto her shoulder softly, rolling her to her bac
k so I could see her face.

  But Juliet's eyes had opened and she was smiling at me, a lazy beautiful smile full of sleep and memories of the night before. My heart filled with warmth.

  The snoring sound began again.

  And then the snoring turned into a snarfing, slurping sound that morphed into a low-throated grumble. And it was most definitely not coming from Juliet as she said, “Good morning."

  I moved close to her side, glancing over the side of the bed as I did, and finally remembered Elvis was here. Snoring. The sound was far less charming when I realized who was actually making it. I wrapped an arm around Juliet and tugged her tightly against me. "Morning."

  "Sorry about the snoring," she said. Her voice was light and soft, and I let it wrap around me like a warm blanket, reassuring and sweet.

  "I thought it was you, actually," I told her, my lips at the shell of her ear.

  She stiffened in my arms. "Seriously? Jace!" She laughed, and her body relaxed again, little shivers moving between us.

  "I forgot your narcoleptic pug was in here." I nibbled softly on the flesh between my lips.

  She released a little moan, breathy and so fucking hot, before she managed, "I don't snore, do I? And if I did, it wouldn't sound like that."

  "I wouldn't know," I reassured her. "I slept more soundly last night than I have in years."

  Juliet made a little noise in the back of her throat that sounded like satisfaction. I wasn't sure if it was because she was glad I'd slept well, or if her pleasure was coming more specifically from what my fingers were doing between her legs, as I'd just slipped them down her hip.

  She moved her ass against me as I stroked her, pressing herself against my throbbing cock, which had woken up about the same time I had, both of us delighted to find that we were still in Juliet's bed.

  I kissed and sucked at Juliet's neck as my hand continued its exploration, and I enjoyed the feeling of having her trapped against me, my arm caging her against my chest as she moaned and squirmed up against me. The little noises she was making were doing all kinds of things to my body, sending shivering spikes of excitement through me and making my balls draw up tightly as I remembered what it had felt like to plunge inside her the night before.

  "Mmm," she moaned. "More." Her voice was languorous and low, her word stretched out on the unfilled minutes of a morning with no schedule before us. I was only too happy to comply with her request.

  I let my hand slip from her mound, sliding it over her hip and behind her to grasp my needy cock. I fisted it a few times, letting her feel the motion against the skin of her naked butt, and then I released myself, using my hand to press her gently forward, halfway onto her stomach. When she'd rolled a little, I let my fingers slide around to her hot wetness, and she lifted a knee, laying almost on her stomach and opening herself to me from behind.

  She muttered something sleepy and sexy, her face pressed into the pillow as I fingered her.

  This. God, I could do this every day, I thought, as dirty thoughts and images flickered through me, sending my want for her shooting higher.

  My cock was heavy and full and aching with the closeness to Juliet, to her waiting willingness. I rolled to the nightstand, where there was another condom, and rolled the rubber over myself. I took my cock in my hand again and rolled nearer to her, sliding down enough to notch myself against her waiting entrance. And when I began to push inside her from behind, the mound of her perfect ass at my stomach, I nearly lost it right then. She moaned and whimpered, and once I'd pressed myself fully into that hot tightness, I leaned forward to take her mouth again. Her head was turned so I could kiss her over her shoulder, and as I did, I let my hand slide around her waist again, and then lower, finding the spot between her legs waiting for my fingers.

  She cried out when I found it, and I moved in and out gently, my own hand locking her body to mine in the perfect position beneath me.

  It didn't take long for her to find her release, and once I was sure she'd come, I clamped my hand around her soft stomach and drove into her as hard as I dared. The angle kept her legs together between mine, and it was like being inside a tight wet clamp, wedging myself into a delicious space that was just barely big enough to accommodate me. And it was so fucking hot I only needed a few more thrusts before I felt everything in my body stiffening, tightening, coiling for release.

  "God, yes," she moaned, feeling how close I was. "Do it, Jace."

  Those last words sent me right over the top, my whole body shuddering my release as her body lay soft and firm beneath me, her entrance gripping me tightly as I came.

  We both lay there for a long moment, breathing each other in, letting our bodies and minds unspool. It felt like being caught in a time apart from the real world, and we both knew that once we got up, once our feet hit the floor, reality would rush back in.

  And I was no longer sure what my reality should look like.

  Were Juliet and I together? What did that mean for her agent's plan for Ryan McDonnell?

  And if I was going to allow her to take care of my mother, give her a place to live out of the goodness of her heart, what did that say about me? And how tightly did it bond me to Juliet? If something went wrong between us, what would happen to Mom?

  It was too hard to think about those things while Juliet lay wrapped tightly against me. I kissed her shoulder and rolled away, nearly stepping on a pile of Pug as I dropped a foot to the hardwood floor. He dodged with a grunt and I muttered, "Sorry, Elvis."

  "Did you step on my dog?" Juliet asked, her voice lacking any real concern. The evidence of Elvis's continued existence could be easily heard. He was on his feet, whining and slurping his desire to be escorted outside.

  "Negative," I said. "He's here, in all his pugly glory, waiting to go out."

  She rolled over and shot me a brilliant smile, her pink cheeks framed by all that golden hair, and my heart stopped beating for a moment as I looked at her. "I'll take him out in a minute," she said. "But first, tell me you're okay." She sat up, and her brows pulled together over those deep ocean eyes. Juliet was worried about me.

  It had been a while since anyone worried about me.

  "Yeah, I'm okay." I stood, pulling my jeans back on. "Maybe a little unsure about all this." I gestured between us.

  She nodded, her eyebrows pulling together. "Let's just enjoy it?"

  "I did enjoy it," I assured her. "I guess I'm just not sure what it means. If it means anything."

  "It meant something to me," she said, scooting close to take my hand and hold it between hers. "It meant a lot to me."

  My steely determination was nothing in the face of her soft skin, her shining eyes. "To me too."

  "Then let's just see where it goes," she said. "I like you Jace. I like you in a way I maybe haven't ..." she trailed off, leaving me desperate to hear what might have come next. "I just don't know ..."

  "Your life is complicated right now." I suggested this, waiting to see if she'd tell me what was on her lips or if she'd take the out.

  "It is. So is yours."

  The eager excitement I’d felt about the thought that we were on the same page dampened a bit. "Maybe it's not the best time to do ..." it was my turn to trail off.

  "Jace," she said, her voice nearly a whisper. "There will never be a good time. And being with you has been the first time I've felt like I'm really myself in ... maybe years. Can't we just let it be whatever it is? Enjoy it?"

  God, I wanted to do that. But everything I'd ever done had been planned, strategized. There was a purpose to my actions, and those actions led to a result I'd pre-determined. And this thing? This living breathing desire I felt for Juliet Manchester? I didn't have a strategy to manage it. I didn't even know what it was.

  "Don't overthink it," she suggested. "Please don't. Because if you do, I'm terrified you'll decide it's too hard, too uncertain. And I don't think I could take it if you told me that," she said.

  "Okay." My mouth agreed before my mind even eng
aged. Because clearly, my dick and maybe my heart were driving my mouth. My brain was like a good friend who we'd stopped consulting because he just made things too damned difficult. He was the guy we didn't call when we were planning a fun night out. He was the wet blanket.

  Elvis let out a pained groan, and Juliet slipped out of bed, pulling on light grey sweats and doing something magical with her hair and hands that resulted in a perfect messy little bun on top of her head. I stared at her, amazed. In about thirty seconds, she'd gone from sleeping beauty to awake, upright, and gorgeous.

  Juliet Manchester had some kind of magic. And I wanted to understand it better.

  Later that day, I was at Mom's house. She'd packed her clothes into duffle bags and suitcases, and now her hands were fluttering as she coughed and paced, watching me pack up the boxes I'd brought in the back of the Uhaul.

  "I don't understand," she was saying as I wrapped dishes in paper and stacked them in the box. "Did you win the lottery Jace?"

  In a way I had, I guessed. "No Mom. Just figured out a way to keep you safe. To make things better for you." It felt like a lie. Juliet's money was going to make things better for Mom. And even though I’d tried, I realized I couldn't turn that down anymore than I'd been able to turn down a chance to take her to bed.

  "But Brentwood? Jace, I'll feel like the lady from the stix over there. What will the neighbors think?"

  In a way, it felt right. Like Mom should be in a nice place, should be somewhere that would make her own family jealous. "I don't care what they think. I care that you're safe." The kitchen was the last room I needed to pack, and as I finished up, a knock sounded at the door. "Jace?"

  Jack, one of the other guards from Juliet's, had agreed to help me move the furniture. "Hey Jack," I said, calling through the locked security door. I moved to unlock it and let him in. "Thanks for helping, man. This is my mom, Renee."