by Lisa G Riley
Kendra undulated beneath him, her head pressing back into the cushion and exposing her neck. He bent and kissed the smooth skin.
“Sloan?” she mumbled.
“Hmm?” He continued to kiss her neck.
“Will you shut up?”
Chuckling, Sloan raised his head. “Why, Kendra. I’m surprised at you. Dry humping on the couch is so high school and so…unsatisfying.”
“Then take your clothes off,” she suggested and proceeded to do it herself, her hands going to the placket of his jeans.
Still laughing, he wrapped an arm around her waist and sat up, turning so that he was sitting with her facing him astride his lap. He looked into her eyes and that loopy feeling came over him again. “You’ll be Mrs. Johnson, my wife, in two short weeks,” he said.
Kendra smiled tenderly and caressed his face. “And you’ll be my husband, my one and only.”
“I’d better be,” he commanded.
“Sloan?”
“Hmm?” Sloan palmed her behind and pushed her against him so that her thighs widened even more.
Kendra gasped and ground herself against him before saying, “Are you sure you’re ready to be married?”
Sloan stopped what he was doing and lifted his head to look at her. The worry lurking behind the lust in her eyes made him scowl. “What kind of question is that? You know I’m ready to marry you. I’ve only wanted to since forever.”
“Ummm,” Kendra said and undulated against him again. “I like this position much better. Now,” she said and slowly licked his lips and then his chin. “Let’s get your clothes off.” Her hands went to his jeans again.
Sloan’s head was swimming, and he captured her mouth with his again and even toed his shoes off before taking hold of her chin so he could look into her eyes. “What are you afraid of, Kendra?”
“Nothing,” she swore. “I’m just a little nervous; that’s all.”
“About what? Me? Still?”
“I just love you so much, Sloan, and I just want you to be sure.”
“And I love you, and I am sure,” he assured her before kissing her ravenously. He unbuttoned and unzipped her cutoffs, then slipped a hand into her wet warmth. Her breath caught and then started up again, only to turn into little keening noises when he opened her slick folds to fondle her clit. He was surprised when she right away started making her usual high-pitched sounds, signifying that she was on her way to orgasm, because they’d just made love that morning. Twice. But his ears were actually ringing. He felt her stiffen and knew that she’d be screaming her release any second. Damn, he’d have to take her like this more often. Obviously she liked the position.
“Sloan! Stop!” Kendra said urgently.
She pulled at his wrist, and frowning, he raised his eyes to hers. “Damn it, Kendra!” He felt like he was coming out of a fog. “What?”
“I said stop!” she repeated. “The doorbell is ringing.”
“What?”
Sighing, Kendra took his face in her hands and, looking in his eyes, slowly enunciated, “The. Door. Bell. Is. Ringing.”
“Ignore it.”
“We can’t, Sloan,” she said with regret and moved to get off his lap.
Sloan held her there. “Yes, we can. It’s probably just that nosy Ms. Weingarten from down the hall. She’s the only one who comes over unannounced.”
“The doorbell is the announcement, goofy. Now let me up. And besides, she might have that recipe she promised me. She’s a nice woman who’s a little lonely since her husband died. She’s retired and bored, so cut her some slack.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I said no,” Sloan repeated. “Damn it, Ken, this is supposed to be our time alone together.”
“I know, baby, and I’m sorry. Just let me get rid of her. She saw me when I came in earlier. It would be rude not to answer.”
“It’s been a little while since she rang the bell. Maybe she gave up and—”
Kendra laughed and rose when he was interrupted by the sound of the bell. “Just give me a minute. It won’t take long. I swear,” she promised over her shoulder.
“Zip up your shorts,” Sloan reminded her morosely.
“Oops.” She tucked the large T-shirt into the front of the shorts, buttoned and zipped them. “Just a minute,” she called and hurried when the sound of the bell pealed through the apartment again.
Sloan watched her plaster a big smile on her face and pull open the door.
“Hi, Ms.—Mom! What are you doing here?”
Camille looked at Kendra, unsure of her welcome. She’d been ready to turn around and leave, when Kendra had suddenly called through the door. She’d almost been relieved when she’d thought they weren’t home, because she didn’t want to be there. It had taken hours of convincing herself that it was time she patched things up with Kendra, and once she had, she’d gotten in her car and driven over before she could talk herself out of it.
She hadn’t called first because she was tired of the stilted and forced phone conversations with her daughter, and she’d wanted to see her. She missed her child. It was as simple as that. She wanted things to go back to the way they were before the whole therapy announcement, and she was willing to do what was necessary to make it that way, even if it meant pretending.
“I hope you don’t mind my coming up without ringing first, but Theresa said it was okay,” she began and clutched her purse in both hands to prevent herself from pulling Kendra into her arms. A kiss on the cheek was all she got these days. “She recognizes me, of course, and said that she thought you guys were in.” When Kendra remained quiet, Camille studied her, taking in the sloppy ponytail, the disheveled clothing, the flushed skin, and the lingering lust that mingled with surprise in her eyes.
Camille’s eyes widened in embarrassment and shock. Oh God, she’d interrupted them. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the thought that her daughter, grown or not, had been having sex. Already uncomfortable, she fumbled with her purse and said, “I need to talk to you, Kendra, but I guess I shouldn’t have just dropped by.”
“It’s all right, Mom, honest,” Kendra said and stepped back to let her come in. Kendra bent to kiss Camille’s cheek. “How are you? What brings you by?” She shut the door.
Camille heard the wariness in her voice and was sorry for it. She hadn’t come for an argument, or even to discuss the therapy if she could help it. She’d just come over to make up. “Well, I’ve been thinking about you and wanted to see you. I’d like to talk.”
A hopeful gleam entered Kendra’s eyes. “Okay, Mom. But, um, Sloan and I just finished dinner a little bit ago, and I was going to…uh… I’d like to go freshen up,” she stuttered as she led Camille into the living room. “Sweetheart,” she said to Sloan, “Mom’s here.”
Sloan stood. “Hello, Camille. It’s been a long time.”
“Sloan.”
“Have a seat, Mom,” Kendra said. “I’ll be right back.” She looked over at Sloan. “I’m going to go freshen up.”
Camille sat in one of the chairs that flanked the coffee table.
“Would you like something to drink, Camille?” Sloan asked. “Water, wine, pop?”
“Water would be good, thank you,” she answered. “It’s pretty hot out there.”
“Yeah, well, Chicago in August,” Sloan said over his shoulder as he left the room. “The month came in as one big heat wave as usual.”
Camille knew that he was angry with her. Well, angrier than usual. She didn’t believe there was a time when she hadn’t felt anger or resentment coming from him. She was sure that the anger now was because of his perception of how she was treating Kendra.
“Here you go.”
Camille jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to look at him. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard him return. “Thank you,” she said and took the glass of ice and bottle of water from him.
“So we missed you at Venetian Night last month,
” Sloan said and paused. “And on the Fourth of July. Well, heck, Camille, we just haven’t seen much of you at all this summer, have we?”
Camille finished pouring the water over her ice, put the bottle on a coaster, took a sip from her glass, and sat back before she looked at him. Yes, he was angry and wasn’t bothering to hide it. “Yes, well, you know how it is. We all have things to do.” She watched as skepticism flashed in his eyes.
“Let’s cut to the heart of the matter, okay, Camille? You’re mad because Kendra’s in therapy. That’s your problem and your prerogative. What it isn’t, is your right to make her feel guilty about it.”
“This is none of your business, Sloan. But I will say that I knew you were responsible for her being in therapy. I just knew it.”
“Now, Camille, let’s give credit where credit is due, shall we? You and your ex-husband win the prize for that. I had nothing to do with it.”
Camille felt her anger coming to the fore. It was precisely this kind of so-called manly arrogance that made her dislike men. “This is between my daughter and me, so stay out of it.”
“Well, your daughter happens to be the woman I love, and I’m not going to stand by while you continue to manipulate her feelings and hurt her.”
Outraged, Camille sputtered, “How dare you! I would never manipulate my daughter. You don’t know what you’re talking about, so like I said, mind your own business.”
“Kendra is my business, Camille. You’re a smart woman; you should have realized that by now. All evidence points to that fact, and it has for the past four years. You just prefer to ignore what’s right in front of you.”
“She’s my daughter. Mine,” Camille stated vehemently in a soft, cold, controlled voice. She felt threatened, and she was so angry now that she was close to tears. She refused to lose her daughter to this…this…man. “I love her, and I want what’s best for her.”
“So you say. Just remember what I said, Camille,” Sloan stated with finality before rising and leaving the room.
*
Kendra looked up as the bedroom door opened. She smiled. “Hi, honey. I’ll be right out. I’ve just finished with a quick shower,” she said as she pulled a half-slip over her hips. “You didn’t kill my mom, did you?”
Sloan walked into the room and pulled her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and buried his nose in her neck. “I left her alive and well and gulping down water,” he said. He smoothed his hands over the silky chemise that covered her torso.
Kendra stepped back out of his arms, her eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter. “Don’t start that again. I don’t want to have to take another shower.”
“I don’t know why you did in the first place,” Sloan countered.
“Because, Sloan, my mother is here, and it was fairly obvious what we’d been doing before she came.”
“Yeah, and it’s too bad she did before we had a chance to. Five more minutes and I would have been too happy and satisfied to care who was at the door, including her.”
“Sloan!”
“Whatever, Ken. And I still don’t see why you took a shower.”
“Would you want to sit around your mother smelling and looking like you’d just had sex?”
He winced. “I told you before, Kendra. Those two words don’t belong in the same sentence together. My mother doesn’t even know what that phenomenon is. The stork brought my sister and brother and me. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it,” he insisted when she rolled her eyes.
Kendra just laughed and shook her head. She stepped into a skirt, pulled it up, and reached for a sleeveless tank.
Sloan watched her pull the shirt over her head. “Listen, babe. I’m going to take off. I think I’ll take a walk on the beach.”
Saying nothing, Kendra put her arms through and tucked the shirt in. She slid her feet into flip-flops and smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her skirt. Finally she looked at him. “Okay.” He never stayed around long when her mother came to visit, and she hated it. They’d fought about it countless times. The arguing came partially from her feeling guilty that her mother’s attitude drove him out of his own home.
“I just thought I’d give you guys some alone time; that’s all. Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not leaving because I’m angry. I’m leaving because I really do think you two need to talk without me around.”
“All right, but you’re lucky I just happen to agree with you this time.”
He kissed her lips. “I’ll be back in an hour or so, okay?”
“Okay,” Kendra said as she followed him out of the room. “I’ll see you later, then.”
“I love you,” Sloan said and kissed her again.
“I love you too.”
Kendra locked the door behind him and went into the living room. “Hi again, Mom. Sorry I took so long.”
Camille had moved to the couch, and she looked up and smiled. “It’s all right, Kendra. You look beautiful.” She patted the cushion next to her. “Come sit beside me.”
Worried, Kendra sat and looked at her mother. “Is everything all right?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean are you sick? Is there a problem with your job? Are your friends all okay?” Kendra wanted to get all other possibilities out of the way, just in case she’d misinterpreted things when her mother had first arrived. Maybe Camille wasn’t there to mend the breach between them.
“Of course everything is all right, Kendra,” Camille began and then stopped. “Actually everything isn’t all right. At least not between the two of us, and it’s been that way for most of the summer.”
“Yes, it has,” Kendra agreed, surprising herself when she didn’t immediately follow the words up with an apology. It was unusual for her, but she didn’t feel the need to.
Camille was surprised as well, and it briefly showed. “I want things to go back to the way they were between, us, Kennie,” she said, using Kendra’s childhood nickname. “I hate that there’s this rift between us.”
“So do I, Mom. I’ve missed you, but you made things difficult, and it wasn’t fair.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. Can’t we start over?”
Kendra smiled and hugged her. “Yes, of course, we can. I love you. Things can’t go back to the way they were, though.”
Camille held Kendra tight, but then pulled back to look at her. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I’ve evolved, and to keep evolving, I’ll have to change the way I relate to certain people and things.”
Fear pulsed visibly through Camille’s body. “Specifically…”
“Specifically I can’t keep harping on how Dad left, and that means I can’t keep listening to you talk about it, and I especially can’t keep subjugating my feelings to yours.”
Camille stiffened. “I wasn’t aware that you were.”
“I know you weren’t, Mom—at least not consciously.” She hurried to explain when Camille threw her a look that demanded she do so. “For instance, I hate it when you lump Sloan in with Dad and talk about how he’ll leave me just like Dad left you. You know that, but you do it anyway, and I let you.”
“What do you mean you let me? Last time I looked, I was a woman full grown.”
“That’s not what I mean, and I think you know it,” Kendra chastised softly. She gripped Camille’s hands more tightly when she felt her trying to pull them away. “Please just listen to me.”
“I am listening to you, Kendra. And what you’re saying is not fair. My pointing out things to you is only my way of trying to help you. I love you.”
“I know you do, Mom. But you have to let me go. If you really feel like I’m making a mistake with Sloan, don’t keep reminding me of it. It only hurts me and makes me feel angry and insecure. If it is a mistake, then it’s mine to make.”
Camille let the tears she’d been holding back fall. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, Kendra. I was angry because I felt like I was losing you. When you told me you were
going to therapy, it was like Sloan had won, like men had won.”
“Oh, Mom,” Kendra said and hugged her again. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense. I hope you know that. There are no sides here. I love Sloan, and I love you. I want you both in my life. I need you both in my life.”
After a long pause, Camille sighed with resignation. “All right, then, sweetie. You’ve got me.”
“Good.” Kendra knew that her mother still didn’t agree with her going to therapy, but decided not to say anything. Camille was too stubborn and her perspective was too warped for her to listen to logic. Kendra wished that weren’t true, because based on their conversation, she felt more than ever that Camille would benefit from a few therapy sessions of her own.
Camille pulled back again. She took her handkerchief and starting wiping the tears from Kendra’s face, smiling when Kendra rolled her eyes. “I’m still your mother. Allow me this one little bit of motherly duty.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“There,” she said with satisfaction when she’d dried the last tear. “Now, I’m a little late to the game, but catch me up on the wedding planning.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Sloan looked at the faces surrounding him at the dinner table. He and Kendra had decided to take the members of their wedding party out to narrow down a few more details regarding the individual parties and the wedding, and to simply thank them for participating. Connor, Mozell, and Victoria, whom Kendra had picked up at the airport earlier, were all there. The only one missing was Kyle. The wedding was seven days away.
“Stop worrying, darling. Kyle will be here next week.” Kendra whispered the promise in his ear.
He turned to look at her. “How’d you know I was thinking about him?”
“Because I know you,” she whispered back. “He’s fine.”
“I know. I just get this feeling every time I think about him, and it isn’t a good one.”
“Poor baby,” she crooned as she stroked his thigh. “I understand how you would feel that way. It’s Kyle, and you’re used to worrying about him. But he’ll be here. He promised, and you said he’s never broken a promise before. He’ll be here. He’ll show up at the wedding all hale and hearty with a woman he’s picked up on the plane. She’ll be as loose as he is, and we’ll all have a blast. Either that, or he’ll pick up a loose woman left over from your bachelor party the night before the wedding.” Here, she gave him a knowing look.