Harder Than Words

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “What was there to say? I got pissed off and scared you.”

  “Yes, you got pissed off because that asshat hurt your business, hurt my family’s business, and made lewd comments about me. That pissed me off, too. Did you scare me? No.”

  He shook his head. “I saw the look on your face.”

  “You saw me look startled for a moment. I walked in to hear that prick saying shitty things about us, and then you hit him. I’m surprised you didn’t hit him harder.” She narrowed her eyes. “I grew up with the Montgomery boys and Maya. I’m used to using fists when words would work. However, this time, I don’t think words would have worked. I don’t like the fact you might get in trouble because he’s the type to make waves, but I’m not upset over that.”

  Finally, he let himself cup her face. She leaned into his hold and turned to kiss the center of his palm. He swallowed hard, his body on edge. He wanted her, but if he took her now, he’d be too rough.

  “You flinched, Meghan.”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t your fault.” She met his gaze, even as she moved closer. Her hand went from his chest to the top of his sweats.

  Jesus Christ, he wanted her touch.

  “Richard never hit me. He only hurt me with his words, his actions. I’m not afraid of men. I am damn lucky that I’m not. I know I have issues, and we’re both working on those. You’re helping me so much with the whole thing, in fact, by you just being you. However, I don’t have a problem with what you did today. Maybe another woman would, but not me.”

  “I…I don’t know what to do with you.”

  “Just be you, and you’re everything I need you to be.” She tugged on his waistband, and he reached down, gripping her wrist.

  “Meghan,” he warned. “I won’t be gentle. I’m not in a sweet kind of mood.”

  “I don’t need you to be sweet. I need you to be you. I already told you that. The whole point of this…relationship is for us to be able to take care of each other. Isn’t that what you told me? Well, you’ve spent most of it taking care of my problems. Let me take care of you.”

  He ran his thumb over her lower lip. When she bit down, he let out a little growl. “And touching me, letting me have you, will take care of me?”

  “I think you need to let go, and I’m here to make that happen. If you want to talk more, I’m here. Don’t think that because I feel weak you need to treat me as such.”

  He let out a breath, lowering his forehead to hers. “I’ve never once thought you were weak. You’re the strongest woman I know, Meghan. I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret.”

  She pulled away, her gaze on his. “I want you to fuck me, Luc. Make love to me. Have sex. Do it all. I want you to do what you need to do because it’s want I need, too. We have all the time in the world for words, and I know they’ll be said. But right now? With you mostly naked and all sweaty in my arms? Now I need you to be with me.”

  Right then, he saw the light in her eyes that reminded him of the temptation known as Meghan he’d once loved. He thought it had all but burned out. If he could give her that fire, that fight, he’d do anything.

  “Tell me what you want, sugar,” he said, his voice a growl.

  “I just did.”

  He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and tipped her head up with his thumb on her chin. “In detail. Tell me what you want me to do to you. What you want to do to me. Tell me all of it.”

  “I thought you were the one who couldn’t go slow.”

  He lowered his head and nipped at her lip. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give you what I think you need. It won’t be slow. It’ll be hard and fast. You okay with that, sugar?”

  “God, yes.”

  He grinned. “Good. Now tell me.”

  “I want to suck your cock until you’re shaking. Then I want you to fuck me hard on the kitchen counter. How does that sound?”

  She gave him a siren’s grin, and he reached down between them, squeezing the base of his dick through his sweats so he wouldn’t come. Holy hell, he loved it when she talked dirty. There was a vixen hidden beneath the layers of protection she wore, and he wanted to strip her down until she was bare to him in every way possible.

  Bare to only him.

  He pulled back, his hand still on her neck. “Then get my dick out and suck it. I’m going to fuck your mouth, Meg. So you better keep it wide so you get all of it.”

  She went to her knees immediately and pulled down his sweats. He kept his hand tangled in her hair, wanting her to know he was there, in control. Though as soon as she sucked on the tip of his cock, he had a feeling he’d lost the upper hand.

  “Holy shit.”

  She hummed against him then worked him, swallowing as much as she could while using her hands on what she couldn’t take in. She pulled back, hollowed her cheeks, and then flicked her tongue along the slit. As her head bobbed, he sucked in his stomach, trying to keep from coming down her throat. As much as he wanted to, he needed to come inside her instead.

  He pulled at her hair, and she looked up at him, his dick in her mouth; she looked so fucking hot he almost exploded. “I’m going to fuck your mouth. Keep your jaw wide.”

  She hummed again, and he thrust his hips, tiny little movements until he hit the back of her throat. When she didn’t gag, he kept moving, taking care not to go too far. He didn’t want to hurt her, but holy fuck, she felt so good around him. When his balls tightened, he pulled away then lifted her up into his arms. He crushed his mouth to hers, even as he moved so she sat on the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist, his cock pressing against the seam of her jeans.

  “I need a condom. Don’t move,” he said with a curse then pulled away, sliding out of his sweats fully before running to the bathroom. His dick slapped against his belly as he ran back into the kitchen, only to come up short at the sight before him.

  She’d sure stripped naked quickly. Meghan pulled up her legs so she sat spread out, her hand between her thighs, her fingers working hard in and out of her.

  “Couldn’t wait,” she panted.

  “Holy fuck. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” He quickly tore off the package and slid the condom over his dick. “I’m going to need to keep condoms in all parts of the house from now on.” Or maybe they’d go without one day. Not the time to talk about that though.

  He kissed her, his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth. She moaned, her hand moving from between her legs to his cock.

  “Get inside me. Please, for the love of God, fuck me.” She squeezed the base of his cock, and his eyes crossed.

  “Hands on the edge of the counter. I’m going to fuck you hard, Meg. Don’t want you sliding off.” With that, he gripped her hips then slid into her in one thrust. They both let out a groan, her pussy clenching around his cock. He hadn’t prepared her, hadn’t tasted her, yet she was ready, so fucking wet and waiting.

  He kept his eyes on her as he fucked her, sliding in and out, hard and fast. Their breathing synced as they panted in shallow breaths when they both came hard. He pulled her close, keeping his cock inside her, even as he spilled inside the condom. Her cunt squeezed him like a vise, her body shaking as she came down from her high. He brushed her hair from her face, his own hands shaking.

  “Too hard?” he asked.

  “Never,” she whispered, kissing his jaw. “Again?” she asked, her smile warming him from the inside out.

  “I’ve created a monster. Give me a minute and we’ll do it again. Maybe on the table this time.”

  She leaned into him, her legs still wrapped around his waist. “Anything you want. I like it. Though I don’t know how I’ll feel eating in your kitchen now.”

  “What? You don’t think you’ll be able to eat where we fucked? Because I plan on fucking you on every piece of furniture and counter I have, so you’ll have to get over that.”

  She rolled her eyes, her hands running down his sweat-slicked back. “You doing better?”

  “With yo
u in my arms, sugar? Hell, yeah. Sorry I was an ass.”

  “I’m sorry you had to be an ass. But don’t pull away, okay? I…I’m not good with that.”

  He cursed himself then kissed her temple. “I’m sorry, Meg. So fucking sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I know you.” She smiled up at him. “I really do, you know. I know you.”

  He nodded slightly then rested his head on hers. She knew him just as he knew her. Meaning they were both going to fuck up again. They couldn’t help it. They’d been friends for so long it was inevitable they’d make mistakes. But that didn’t mean things had to end because of it. And, next time, he’d do his damned best to remember that. Because the woman in his arms was it for him. He didn’t want to let her go.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sometimes, if she let herself go, she could imagine that her life held the perfection she needed. At other times, Meghan knew that wasn’t the case. It didn’t matter, however. Today, she felt like things were going her way, and she needed to embrace that for all it was worth. She wrapped her arms around her waist and took a deep breath that ended on a happy sigh.

  Contentment, dare she say happiness, rolled through her, and she closed her eyes, letting the memories of Luc’s embrace and touch settle her. Seriously, if she had a freaking notebook, she’d draw little hearts on it with their initials. That’s how giddy she felt at the moment. There hadn’t been talk of love, and she wasn’t ready for that as it was, but sincere like was on the table.

  Okay, so she might sound like a high schooler rather than a mother of two in her thirties, but right then, she didn’t care. Luc made her smile, made her remember that she was a woman with needs, with feelings, and she could never repay him for that. What made it better? He said it was her, not him, who’d done that. As if she had that inside her all this time but had buried it.

  That could be true, and if she really thought about it, she’d like to have that be the case. It didn’t matter where it came from though. The smile on her face was well worth the worries as to whether she could keep it up. She was happy. She might not have all the answers—might not know where the future led—but she didn’t feel as overwhelmed.

  Boomer barked, and her kids screamed over something, and Meghan closed her eyes once again.

  Okay, so she might be overwhelmed, but this time, it was something she could deal with. It wasn’t that she’d needed a man to complete her, but the idea that someone wanted her for who she was, rather than what they wanted her to be, made all the difference.

  “Is everything okay?” she yelled from her room. She needed to finish putting the laundry away then work on the countless other chores before they headed to see her parents. The kids had pent-up energy because of the rain and were not happy about it. They’d been doing okay together playing in the living room for a little while, but a whole day with just each other was a lot to take. Hell, it was a lot to take for her as well.

  “Cliff won’t play dress up!” Sasha yelled. She ran toward Meghan’s bedroom, the sound of her little feet getting closer and closer. “Why won’t he play, Mommy? What did I do?”

  Meghan blinked at the words. What did Sasha do? Those words sounded so freaking familiar, except it was always, What did Meghan do? Had she’d shown her baby her own personal scars?

  Damn it. Meghan set down the laundry basket and went to Sasha. She kneeled in front of her baby girl and cupped her face. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Cliff simply doesn’t want to play because sometimes he wants to play something else. Nothing you did caused that.”

  “But you always say it’s your fault. So it’s mine, too.”

  Pain. Sweet pain like a dagger slicing through her heart. What had she done? What had Richard done? She should have left the man long before she did. All his taunts and threats of keeping the children since he was the one with an income had been for naught. He hadn’t fought for custody when he left and sure as hell hadn’t done anything in their lives since.

  Meghan took a deep breath, knowing if she didn’t tread carefully this could blow up in her face. She might be just getting used to who she was now—thanks to herself and Luc—but she’d be damned if she’d let any of that mar her baby girl.

  “It is not your fault,” Meghan said firmly, her hands on Sasha’s shoulders. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cliff and Boomer walk up behind Sasha, but she didn’t move her focus from her daughter. “What I said before? About things being my fault? That wasn’t always the case. If you do something that actually results in hurting someone, then yes, that is your fault. But if something doesn’t happen in a way you want it to, or in a way that others want it to, it doesn’t make it automatically your fault. Do you understand me?”

  Sasha nodded, her eyes wide. Cliff reached forward and put his hand over Meghan’s, and she sucked in a breath. She met her son’s eyes, and he pulled away. That small touch though, that had to mean something. It had to.

  “I’m going to do my best to not make everything my fault,” Meghan promised. She tucked a strand of hair behind Sasha’s ear. “We’ve all been through a lot, and I know it’s been tough, but we’re getting better, right? We’re happy?”

  “I’m happy,” Sasha whispered.

  “Cliff?” Meghan asked, afraid of his answer.

  He gave a small nod but didn’t say anything. She let out a relieved breath. It was progress.

  Boomer’s tail thumped loudly on the floor, and Meghan couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “I guess Boomer is happy too.”

  She leaned forward and kissed Sasha’s forehead before reaching out to Cliff. He hesitated a moment then wrapped his little arms around her shoulders. She sucked in a shaky breath and hugged him. Not too tightly, but just enough so she knew he was there. Sasha hugged her on the other side, and Boomer stuck his nose between them.

  Family.

  This was her family.

  God, she loved them. Add in Luc and what he brought out in her, and the happiness slid right through her once again. Things were good. Finally.

  Someone rang the doorbell, and she frowned. She’d planned on meeting her family at the main house in a couple hours. Since she had her dad’s truck, she didn’t need a ride. Maybe it was Luc stopping by instead of meeting them there. Although, now that she thought about it, he said he was having lunch with his family before coming to dinner with the Montgomerys.

  She made her way to the door and opened it without looking through the peephole.

  Stupid fucking mistake.

  Her stomach tightened, whatever was left in her stomach threatening to come back up. Her palms went sweaty, her shoulders immediately hunching forward.

  “Richard.”

  That wasn’t her voice. Not the voice she’d heard in the past couple of months. No, that was the voice of the woman he’d made, the woman she’d let him make. Why was he here? Oh God, why?

  He’d slicked back his hair, the sneer on his face more pronounced than before. He’d also lost some of the weight he’d put on. In fact, it looked as though he was taking better care of himself than he had before.

  Or another woman was taking better care of him than she had.

  No. Stop that, Meghan. You did nothing wrong. Richard is the fucking abusive prick. You are not a doormat.

  His gaze traveled over her jeans, tank top, and shrug. She’d been cleaning and doing other chores that morning and afternoon. She was planning on changing later, but right then, she looked out of place compared to his suit and tie. No, fuck that, he was the one out of place. He was the one who had forced her to move to this not-so-great neighborhood.

  It didn’t matter what she wore because he had no right to an opinion. He’d been out of her life, out of her children’s lives for a year.

  Her children.

  Shit. She moved so she stood between the crack of the door and the rest of the house. She would not let him hurt her children. Hers, not theirs anymore. He’d lost that right when he’d feigned interest and not bothered to try for cu
stody during the divorce proceedings. Instead, he’d taken their money and moved on.

  Yet he was here.

  “What do you want?” she asked, praying the kids didn’t come and see who was at the door.

  “Mommy?” A tug on her shirt.

  Shit.

  Richard’s expression didn’t change. Instead, he kept his gaze on Meghan’s rather than looking down at Sasha, who had inserted herself at Meghan’s side.

  “Go back to your room, Sasha,” Meghan whispered.

  “Daddy?” Sasha asked, her voice quiet as a mouse. Her daughter was never that quiet. Damn this man. “Daddy?”

  “I need to speak with you, Meghan. Do take care of the children.”

  That tone. That fucking tone. She hated that tone. “No, you will not speak with me. This is my house. If you want to talk with me, you can talk to my lawyer.” She went to close the door, but he put his hand on it, keeping it open. Her heart raced for just a moment, and she pulled Sasha behind her.

  “Go to your room, Sasha.”

  “Mommy…”

  “Now.”

  “Come on,” Cliff whispered behind them, and she heard, rather than saw, the two of them head to the back of the house.

  Boomer rested on her leg, and she calmed somewhat. Her dog wasn’t an attack dog, but he was big enough to help her feel slightly better.

  “Get your hand off my door, Richard. There is nothing I need to hear you say.”

  “I have visitation rights, Meghan. You know as well as I do that you can’t keep them from me.”

  Meghan snarled. “You didn’t even fight for them. Don’t think for a minute I think you care.”

  Richard just smiled. “Actually, that’s exactly why I’m here. My fiancée, Ambrosia, and I are talking about children.”

  Fiancée.

  Ambrosia.

  What. The. Ever. Loving. Fuck.

  “Cliff and Sasha, to be exact,” Richard continued. “Do I really need to discuss this on your porch like a common salesman?”