by Cassie Wild
“Yeah. Fuck.” He looked away.
“I’m…” I groaned, then rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t want to pry, but getting in trouble with the court isn’t going to make things any better, is it?”
I was surprised when he called out my name an hour later when I was walking outside.
Looking back, I watched as he locked the side door and crossed the wide, bricked walkway.
“I’ll drive,” he announced.
I didn’t argue, just followed him to the big garage. I did watch him from the side of my eye to make sure he was walking steady, and maybe I also took a couple of slow, deep breaths in through my nose, trying to see if maybe he’d been drinking.
All I smelled was wood smoke, winter air…and him.
“I haven’t been drinking,” he said irritably as he unlocked an SUV and opened the door for me.
I met his eyes. “I’ve seen you drunk on more than one occasion. Can you really blame me for being cautious?”
He had no response to that.
I climbed inside, half-expecting him to slam the door.
He didn’t, though.
Maybe it was progress. Maybe.
But I wasn’t betting on it.
Sweat slicked my hands as I sat down. I tried to tell myself that the woman sitting in Tracy’s spot was the reason.
Her name was Sierra, and she was a friend of Tracy’s—she’d attended group several times so we could all get acquainted, but it took a while to get comfortable with somebody new.
We’d all known this was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. Besides, I’d thought we’d have a few more weeks. Tracy had called all of us a few days earlier and let us know she’d been put on bedrest for the rest of her pregnancy.
Sean sat in the seat next to mine, slumped low down in the seat with his arms crossed and chin resting on his chest. As everybody else settled into chairs, I shifted in mine and swiped my damp hands down the sides of my jeans.
The empty ache of misery that had hollowed out more and more of me over the past eleven months seemed to be growing, and I didn’t know how much emptier I could feel. It choked me, and the thought of spending Christmas completely alone weighed heavier and heavier with each passing day.
“I know this is a little awkward for all of you,” Sierra said. She had that same sort of smile Tracy did, warm and welcoming and understanding. She was attractive, with handsome features and built like an Amazon, tall and broad-shouldered with the kind of figure that made me think of those that had once graced the prows of ships, full-figured and generous. She looked at each of us, one by one, as she spoke, gaze lingering on Sean’s bowed head only a moment before moving on. “Having somebody come in and take over can’t be comfortable for any of you. Both Tracy and I had planned for me to start joining her at group regularly starting this month, but her baby had other plans.”
“Babies are famous for that.”
Sierra looked at Grace, who’d spoken up. Grace was a quiet, soft-spoken woman. Her lips trembled as she spoke, but the words stayed steady. She’d lost two of her four children as well as her husband in a drunk driving accident six months earlier.
Sierra nodded, that gentle smile remaining on her face as she caught and held Grace’s gaze. “Aren’t they? But they’re worth all that frustration and heartache.”
“Yes.” Grace nodded, then ducked her head.
“Does anybody want to start?”
Without thinking, I swallowed, then started to speak. Pushing my hands into the pockets of the old college hoodie I’d pulled on, I said, “I’m dreading Christmas. I was an only child, and my parents spoiled me like crazy on the holidays. Now that they’re gone…” I stopped and tried to steady my breath.
“Both of them?”
I looked over at Amber. She was blushing like she regretted speaking.
I managed to nod. “Yes. They…we had a bookstore back in Oklahoma. Last January, it caught fire. An electrical problem. I was out with my boyfriend, and we were coming home…” Swallowing, I forced back the tears, waiting until I knew I could talk without choking. “By the time I got there, the whole place had gone up. They think my mom tripped and hit her head, passed out. She died of smoke inhalation. Dad was trying to get to her, but…he might have been able to make it out, but…I don’t think he would have left her. They both died.”
“That’s awful,” she whispered softly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” Lips pressed together, I gave myself a few more seconds before continuing. “Thanksgiving was hard enough. I don’t know how I’m going to handle Christmas.”
“Do you have any friends back in Oklahoma?” Sierra asked, folding her hands in her lap. “Any other family?”
“No.” Briefly, my thoughts turned to Wylie, but I pushed them away. He hadn’t so much as tried to reach out since I left.
“What about your boyfriend?”
The tears spilled over, and a broken laugh escaped me. “We broke up a month after I buried my parents,” I said, dashing the tears away. “He just couldn’t understand why I’d changed so much, couldn’t understand that everything was different for me.”
Twenty-Two
Sean
“I didn’t know about your family.”
I’d barely been able to hold those words inside me until we were wrapped in the relative safety of the SUV. Now, gripping the steering wheel, I stared straight ahead and tried not to think about how her voice had shook, the way her breathing had hitched and caught as she tried not to cry.
What the fuck did you expect? It’s a grief support group, dumb ass.
I shied away from that inner voice of sardonic loathing as I continued to sit there and wait, staring through the windshield because I couldn’t stand to look over at her as I apologized.
“I hadn’t told you,” she said simply. “How could you know?”
Finally, I darted a look at her, but she was doing the same thing I had been—staring out the window. But instead of a determined, blank mask that I used to hide all the anger and guilt, she looked calm and placid. Peaceful, even.
How could you go through something like that and be at peace?
I didn’t understand it.
Yet she sat there looking like the Mona Lisa.
“I…” I stopped, unable to figure out how to process everything going on inside my head. Hell, I didn’t even know where to start. “You haven’t ever asked me about…”
Who I lost. Why I’m an asshole. Anything.
But I didn’t have to say a word.
She feathered her fingers down my arm. Even through my coat, I felt the ghost of her touch, and I had to fight the insane urge to grab her hand and hold on tight.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” she said gently. There was a world of compassion in her voice. “If you ever want to, I’ll listen. But the only person who can make the decision to tell your story is you.”
Those words still echoed in my head nearly forty-five minutes later when we pulled into the cavernous garage. The interior lights came on automatically, dim at first, then slowly going brighter.
Taking the nearest open slot, I hit the ignition button, words trembling on my tongue, but before I could figure out what I wanted to say, Tish climbed out.
I fumbled the door open, determined to say something.
“Tish.”
She’d already reached the back bumper of the car. She stopped, turning to give me a quizzical look. I took my time shutting the door, still wracking my brain for the right words to explain what was in my head.
The problem was I didn’t know what was in my head.
“I…thanks,” I finally blurted out.
Thanks didn’t even touch on what I wanted to say. I appreciated the offer, sure, when I wasn’t pissed off about everything. And it was better than what most people told me—you need to talk. Isabel wouldn’t want this. You’re depressed, Sean. You need help.
Her calm acceptance was like a balm after th
e shit I’d been hearing. Like I didn’t know I was depressed, and fuck, yeah, I knew it would be a good idea to talk, and logically, I even realized that my happy-go-lucky wife would probably not want me feeling guilty.
But none of that shit helped.
Tish didn’t give me any of that.
She just accepted, and if I wanted to talk, she made it clear she’d listen.
For once, all rigid, hard barriers I’d erected around myself seem to buckle and fall away. I was floundering, and the only solid thing around me was her.
My fingers itched to reach out.
Before I could give in, she turned away and walked out the big doors of the garage, heading for the house.
I stared at her back.
It was better this way.
Really.
With a grim sigh, I followed along. As I exited, I thumbed the button on the key fob that controlled the doors. The light from the garage slowly disappeared, and by the time I reached the side door of the house, the only illumination came from the landscaping and a security light near the side door.
Tish fumbled with her keys. I could see her shivering in the thin coat she wore. When her keys fell from her fingers, we both bent to get them at the same time, and our fingers brushed. I picked up the keys, and we rose.
Standing this close, that wave of want hit hard and fast.
She stared up at me, her eyes wide and unblinking. A flurry drifted down and caught in her lashes, followed by another.
A sigh shuddered out of her.
I reached up and cupped her cheek. She’d pull away. I already knew it. She’d pull away, but I wanted to feel the softness of her skin again. That soft, silken smoothness.
She was warm, despite the chill of the night. And despite my expectations, she didn’t pull away.
Not even when I stroked my thumb across her lower lip.
Her lashes fluttered. I didn’t think it had anything to do with the snow that had started to fall softly.
I was going to regret doing this.
But I did it anyway.
Lowering my head, I pressed my mouth to hers.
Tish lifted her hands, curling them into the front of my coat, but instead of pushing me away, her mouth opened.
I took advantage, slipping my hand to the back of her head and pulling her in closer. Tracing my tongue across the lower curve of her lip, I demanded entrance to her mouth.
Any second, I expected her to pull away.
Any second, I expected this to come to an end.
Any second…
Twenty-Three
Tish
This is stupid.
Sean backed me up against the door. Just a few seconds ago, I’d been shivering in the cold, but now, heat surrounded me. I clung to him, my fingers buried in the front of his coat in a death grip. He held the back of my head in a big hand, fingers so warm and strong and certain, and the body pressing into mine was the exact same.
I shuddered as he pushed his thigh between mine.
Need, the kind I’d never experienced before, swamped me, washing through me with the force of a tidal wave and leveling everything in its path.
Sean abruptly tore his mouth away. He pressed his brow to mine, and the hand that held the back of my head slipped down to curve over my neck, fingers kneading the muscles there restlessly.
“Push me away, Tish. Now.”
That was what I should do.
I’d already done it once.
But I was tired and empty and lonely.
And he was right there.
Instead of doing the smart thing, I tugged him back up against me.
Sean swore. He hesitated just a moment, then his mouth crushed back onto mine.
The impact, the sheer, blunt sensuality of the kiss left my knees weak. He bit my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth while he pushed my coat open and slid his hands inside, seeking the curves of my body with practiced, knowing hands. He touched me like he’d been given the map to my body and had committed it to memory.
One hand cupped my breast while the other went to my hip. He held me steady as he moved in against me, tucking his cock against the notch of my thighs.
I whimpered as a greedy fist of want struck me low in the belly, then went lower, centering square between my thighs. Hot, wet desire gathered in my pussy, and I moved against him.
Sean growled against my mouth, then abruptly jerked back.
I reached for him, but he moved to the side.
Confused, I stared at him.
He was glaring down at the door, and it took my short-circuiting brain a few more seconds to catch up—he was unlocking it.
He finally got it open. The alarm went off as we stepped through the doorway, and he paused, punching a code into the panel just inside. Keys rattled as he hurled them on the counter, then he reached backward without looking and unerringly found my hand. He walked through the house, pulling me along behind him.
By the time we reached our destination—I had to assume it was his bedroom—I was out of breath. He made it even worse because the second we were inside, he pushed me up against the wall and kissed me again. At the same time, he hauled my coat halfway down my arms, leaving it tangled at the crooks of my elbows. I groaned, trying to reach for him, but unable to do so.
He reached up and caught the buttons of the blue cardigan I wore, rapidly undoing them. Once he’d finished, he pushed that down my arms as well and dipped his head, burying his face between my breasts.
Finally, he finished stripping away the garments that pinned my arms in place. I reached for him, and just in time because he grabbed me around the waist and hauled me upright. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him, clinging for balance.
Through my bra, he kissed me. Then he caught the strap and dragged it down, exposing my nipple. I gasped, then moaned as he caught it in his mouth and sucked on me, working the tip to a hard, stiff point.
The need arrowed downward. With every pull and tug of his teeth or mouth, it elicited an answering response from my pussy. I found myself rocking against him, needing the friction and hardness of his cock. I was already wet. If I hadn’t been so turned on, I might have been embarrassed at just how wet I was. I could feel the material of my panties slipping and sliding against me as I wiggled and moved.
Then I felt a lot more—his fingers.
He’d shifted to the side and unzipped my jeans, in a smooth deft move so seamless I’d barely processed it. In the span of a couple of seconds, he’d gone from rocking against me to sliding his hand into my jeans, then his fingers were inside me.
I gurgled out a stunned sound, clutching at his shoulders as I rocked up to meet his touch.
“Tish,” he muttered hoarsely.
It was such a raw sound that the fist of want deep inside me tightened even more.
He scissored his fingers, then twisted his wrist. I jolted upward, driving myself more completely into his caress. Catching the blanket beneath me, I twisted my hands in it.
Blood roared in my ears.
Sweat bloomed on my skin.
I couldn’t handle this.
It was too big. Too much—
The climax slammed into me, and I fell apart.
Even as the pieces of me splintered into a thousand shards, Sean moved yet again, kneeling between my thighs and tearing at my jeans, stripping both the denim and my panties away.
I caught my breath, instinctively bracing myself for him.
He caught my hips and half-lifted me, shoving me farther up on the bed.
Then he sprawled between my thighs.
I tensed at the last second, realizing what he was getting ready to do just before he did it. “Sean—” Whatever else I was going to say dissolved in a sharp cry that echoed off the walls as he pressed his mouth to my cunt in a hot, wet, greedy kiss.
The hands I’d been twisting in the sheet now twisted in his hair.
He lashed his tongue against my clit, and I whimpered, rocking and thrusting against h
im as a lightning-intense storm of pleasure exploded inside me.
The climax had started to fade, but as he thrust his tongue inside me, it swelled back up and started all over again. Dazed, lost in that storm, I sucked in a breath and clung to him.
The scrape of his teeth, the driving rhythm of his tongue, his hands on my hips as he lifted me up, the pounding of my heart inside my chest and the burning ache of oxygen trapped in my lungs, all of it rose up and overwhelmed me. It was like I’d been thrown into a tsunami of pleasure, never quite reaching the surface before another wave swamped me and knocked me back under.
Wracked with it, I was limp by the time he crawled up my body and pressed a kiss to my lips.
I would have reached for him, but I couldn’t even find the strength to lift my hands off the bed.
Sean pulled away, and I whimpered, cursing that lack of strength, although I had no idea how to address it. It was like somebody had removed all my bones and replaced them with warm, pliant taffy.
A few seconds, I told myself. I’d give myself a few seconds, maybe a minute. Then I’d sit up and go get him. Or least call him, tell him to come back here.
A minute passed. At least.
Then maybe another thirty seconds.
“Get up,” I mumbled.
“Why?” Sean asked as he slid back onto the bed.
This time, he was gloriously naked. I felt the brush of his hard legs, dusted with hair as he settled between my thighs. His cock pressed against me, thick and heavy and hot. I gasped, and with that sound, the muscles that had been so lax and loose had enough energy that I was able to reach for him, digging my fingers into his biceps.
“You disappeared,” I said dumbly.
A slow, sexy smile curled his lips. “I had to get rid of my clothes…and grab a rubber.”
“Oh.” A blush spread up my cheeks, hot and instant.
He lowered his head, and in an intimate, tender gesture, rubbed his nose against mine.
“You’re sweet,” he muttered, shifting his attention to my mouth, flicking his tongue against my lips, then pushing inside. He reached down and caught my right thigh, dragging it up and opening me.