Love on Hold

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Love on Hold Page 12

by Mia Miller


  I wasn’t very surprised, but didn’t interrupt him.

  “I mean … I never wanted them to. I never needed them to. But with you … everything with you is different.”

  He cupped my head and brought my face closer to his. Our foreheads touched, and I closed my eyes.

  “I think this is one of those moments people want to remember forever.”

  “Yeah … Sweetness.” He inhaled deeply, his breath fluttering my hair, which had fallen around us like a curtain.

  I sat up and pinched his chest lightly.

  “Aren’t we just two inadequate people with matching scars who found each other?”

  “So what if we are?” he asked, rolling me over and covering me with his large body.

  “I don’t mind one bit,” I said, and that was the last thing I got out.

  His lips were on mine, his tongue invading me, his hands roaming my skin. Enveloped in his heat, I felt safe. I never wanted it to end.

  Twenty-Eight

  “Do My Beard.”

  LEONIE

  We spent an amazing weekend with my aunt in Healdsburg. Wine tasting and window-shopping antiques with Aunt Theresa. I’d taken Joel hiking near the Russian River. The nights with Joel had included very little sleep. We kissed like time would end and we depended on each other’s air to survive. In a tacit agreement, neither of us had tried something beyond second base while in my aunt’s home. We were back to the reality of campus life, catching a stroll.

  It was a new week, though, and Joel was getting ready to charm a source he’d found at Child Protective Services, the next morning. We had no idea what would happen after graduation, and both of us pretty much avoided the topic, or at least I was avoiding it. But for the remainder of months until the summer, I would soak up all the little moments of happiness Joel Thomas could give me, and give him just as many in return.

  “You know, I have the keys to the barbershop all to myself tonight. I was the last on my shift. “I can give you a complimentary, professional shave, get you ready for tomorrow.”

  “I think, Sweetness, that works just fine for me.”

  We raced to the parlor, and I made sure to lock the door behind us before leading him to the room in the back. It held just two chairs and a makeup table with mirrors and light bulbs all around. His heat hit my back, and I did what my initial instinct told me to do that day when he’d first come here. I tilted my head all the way back, silently asking him to kiss me. He did. I felt his hands safely holding me in place, secured around my waist. I felt his tongue parting my lips, tasting the cold from outside, the sweet from the candy, the spice that was all him. When his large hands started tracing my ribs, up toward my breasts, I moaned into his mouth and pushed my ass into him.

  “I thought we were here for business, Joel.”

  He let me go on a sigh.

  “Fine, do my beard then …”

  I grabbed my tools while he made himself comfortable in the chair next to the makeup table, playing around with the lights. I slathered oil onto his face and neck before I wiped my hands clean, grabbed my phone, and played Rhianna’s “Love on the Brain.” Then I straddled his waist, placing the foam holder between us. When the brush touched his neck, I could feel him swallow. I worked the white substance onto his cheeks next, lifting myself enough to place a chaste kiss on his forehead. He reached to my sweater and pulled it off me, leaving me in just a spaghetti strap tee.

  “I thought you were getting hot in here.” He winked at me, and I laughed.

  “I was. But now I need you to sit still for the pièce de résistance.”

  I reached for the straight razor.

  “You know how to use one of those?”

  “Trust me.”

  “Sweetness, I do.”

  As if to prove it, he laid his head completely still on the headrest.

  I stroked softly and evenly, moving with the grain, not against. He closed his eyes. I felt his hands on my ass. With each stroke, his face would light up in all the right angles. He’d never worn anything but overgrown stubble around me, but right then, with clean and fresh skin, he was perfect. Adonis would have killed for a jawline as straight. As soon as I was done, I pressed my lips against his.

  “You done?” he groaned, his hands traveling to the small of my back. I was plastered against him just as I had been on Halloween.

  “I have to apply after-care.”

  “Leonie. Later.”

  He stood, taking me with him, placing me on the table, his mouth already teasing my nipple through the fabric of my tank top.

  “But the oil …”

  “Later, Leonie.”

  His mouth covered mine, demanding and filling. My fingers clutched his strong arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He pushed against me and groaned when I lifted his tee and grazed his stomach with my fingernails. He let my mouth go for a breath, pulling his tee up and throwing it away in that adorable way only men can get undressed.

  I stared at his naked torso, which was every bit as perfect as it had been in the first picture he had sent me, and leaned forward. I wanted to taste him, so I did, running my tongue over his taut skin, pulling him closer, closer, closer. He made short work of taking off my pants and panties.

  “You’re so good at that. Let me try.”

  I undid his belt and his jeans and slid my hand in so I could hold him in my palm. Or try to, anyway. He was so hard, so large, that he was almost intimidating. I pressed on him, curling my fingers around him, which made him release a hiss into the air between us before he finished yanking his clothing off. He was huge, and I licked my lips looking at all this gorgeousness of a man, for me and me only. It was going to my head and making me feel dizzy.

  He just grinned as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along my neck, sucking and licking it at the same time. One of his hands cupped my breast and the other sank between our bodies to touch my pussy with barely-there pressure. I arched, rocking my hips, needing friction.

  He gave me that, his fingers on my pussy no longer stroking, but splitting open, plunging, going deep. I heard a deep moan. Me. I heard a troubled sigh. Him.

  “So wet, my baby.”

  I couldn’t talk, I was simply making these small sounds I’d never heard myself make as I stroked him. He gave me more, his thumb going in circles over my clit, spreading the wetness, teasing, loving.

  I felt my pussy clamp against his fingers and then he was gone, leaving me panting and desperate.

  “Wait for me.”

  He made a condom appear from his jeans on the floor and covered the head of his cock in a slow movement. My fingers joined his and when we reached the base of his cock, I gave a small squeeze. It seemed to tip him over, his hand slid around me to hold me in place as he pressed kisses on my shoulder, tilting us almost to my back while he plunged inside me. I felt full as he pushed deeper, demanding more. More of me, more of us. I watched where our bodies came together, and he righted himself, grabbing my waist with both hands, his thumbs pressing slowly against my navel.

  “Fuck me back, Leonie,” he whispered, pulling himself out so only his head remained in. If it meant he wouldn’t stop, I would do whatever he asked. I started moving my hips fast, my pussy taking his cock deeper and deeper with each of his thrusts.

  “Fuck!” he exclaimed.

  He looked up at me, his eyes swimming with lust before his hand slid up my body to cup my chin and turn my attention to the mirrors surrounding us.

  “You are so damn perfect.”

  Me? If I was perfect, he was a god. His athletic body over my small one, the length of my calves around his magnificent ass as I pulled him harder against me with each of his thrusts. His mouth drew me back, claiming my lips as his tongue swept inside, tangling with mine in cadence with his cock inside me. His thumb was back to circling my clit in fast, sure movements. His ass clenched, and the view, the movements, his sounds from deep in his chest—everything tipped me over. For the second time in my life, I came
from the acts and the body of a man. And came and came and came. My head fell backward, and through the haze, I heard him joining me. I was his, he was mine. That sense of belonging to someone that made my skin crawl when Daniel mentioned it? Was everything I’d ever wanted from Joel.

  Twenty-Nine

  “Just Visiting.”

  JOEL

  I was late to the discussion with that CPS guy that day. I went to the parking lot and Hastings was there, waiting by my car, circling it and studying it as if he’d needed it to pass an exam.

  “What the fuck do you want, man?” I asked. I knew he didn’t live anywhere near Oak Creek.

  He raised his palms and waved them in the air.

  “Just visiting! Dropping by to tell you I’m not done with you and Leonie.”

  “You bet your ass you’re done with Leonie!” I bellowed and threw the folder I was holding to the ground. Hastings watched it drop as if it was a cockroach.

  “Whoa, no need to be drama—” My right fist connecting with his jaw silenced him.

  For a slim guy, he held on to his feet pretty well, for he didn’t fall. He just touched his lip, his eyes going wide when he saw the smudge of blood I’d caused to trickle down his chin. He came at me like a madman, his arms flailing around uncoordinated and missing me three times before I decided to end his misery. I clipped him real hard, near his temple, and that time he lost his balance. He went two feet backwards, his back propped against my car.

  “Keep your grubby hands to yourself, psycho!” I yelled and heard a car pulling up. I thought it would be Levi, or a neighbor, and I turned.

  It was my father.

  “Is this why you moved to California? To brawl? You couldn’t find a decent fight club in New York?” he asked mockingly, as he rolled down his window.

  Hastings used the break to scramble off.

  “I’m not done with you!” I yelled after him before turning to Dick. “Why are you here? Did you come to deliver the news in person?”

  His face looked more tired than I remembered it, and he winced at my question.

  “News? What news?”

  “You know, about how you managed to find out about another interview I have? That I don’t have a chance of getting hired anywhere without your approval?” I bellowed.

  His gaze frosted over.

  “I came here to give you news, but not about that.”

  “Man, you should really take a hint. I do not want one thing to do with you!”

  “Yeah? Well don’t think you will make it on your own.”

  “You aren’t making any sense. I have my trust fund.”

  “I have more means than that offers you, and you know it, Joel.”

  “I. Do. Not. Want. Anything from you!” I yelled at him again.

  “Well, maybe I want to give it to you!” he yelled back, getting out of his car and slamming the door harder than it needed to.

  I let out a breath and pinched the bridge of my nose, praying for patience.

  “No.” I dropped my hand and looked right at him. “No. I don’t have time for this.”

  He made a small gesture to stop me but I swatted his hand away. The car he was driving blocked mine. Just as I planned a way out, I heard a bike rumbling near and, sure enough, Levi pulled his hog in park, close to us. He took off his helmet and raised his eyebrows at me. I just had to lift my hand and he threw me the keys to his roaring beast.

  Thirty

  “Are You Kidding Me?”

  LEONIE

  I had opened the barbershop early and started an early shift. Soo after my break, I saw Tania make wide eyes at me. I looked toward the window. Hard to be believed, but out stood Daniel with his father. Daniel looked at me and waved as if the fight on Thanksgiving had never happened. His father glared as if annoyed to be there, and behind them, someone waited in the back seat of their town car.

  I took off my apron and walked slowly toward the door, ignoring Tania’s questioning looks.

  When I pushed out onto the sidewalk, I froze. Daniel had a fat lip and the beginning of what looked like a very ugly black eye.

  “Yeah, that’s right, your boyfriend did this,” Daniel whined.

  I opened my mouth to speak but he spoke over me.

  “Don’t worry, we won’t press charges …”

  And just like that, any trace of guilt I felt seeing his wounds evaporated and was replaced by fury.

  Daniel and his dad exploded at the same time.

  “Maybe you won’t press charges, but I might,” I stated firmly, holding up my wrist, which was still several shades of purple and blue from when he’d grabbed me.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. I may even add stalking and harassment while I’m at it.”

  Daniel didn’t say anything more, he just swallowed and looked at the pavement.

  “Why are you here, Mr. Hastings?”

  I directed my question toward Daniel’s father, hoping for a hint of maturity above what his son was manifesting these days.

  “I’m here as a concerned parent. I’m here because my son is telling me you are not interested in pursuing your relationship with him, and I am here to discuss the ramifications of that choice.”

  “Ramifications? Do you mean my having my freedom and not getting beat up, because those sound great.” He didn’t even blink, and I heaved out a deep breath. “Are you kidding me? This is a joke, right? Like an extended hidden camera thing?”

  They both scowled at me as I went on.

  “Your son is a grown-up, Mr. Hastings. Or he’s supposed to be one. He doesn’t get a pass for bringing a concerned parent into a situation that should have been resolved four years ago.”

  “You’re forgetting the kind of life we would be able to offer you.”

  “What makes you believe I want anything from your son?”

  “Listen, young lady …”

  “Leave Leonie alone.”

  Deanna’s calm and reassured voice came from behind us. So she was the third person in the back of the car. I should have known. At least she appeared to be on my side.

  “Mr. Hastings,” I said, trying to maintain my calm. “I am not trying to do anything to your son.”

  Deanna touched my elbow, and I felt like leaning into her, but I didn’t.

  “I came here with you two because I was curious as to what you were up to. I expected more from you both, and for different reasons. Lance, you’re an adult and should know better than to act like this and try to threaten a woman. Daniel, I overheard part of your conversation with Leonie on Thanksgiving, and I was appalled to realize that my son, the young man I raised, would treat a woman like that. I came here in the hope that you would come to your senses and apologize. Not for this.”

  Daniel’s face blanched.

  “But, Mom—”

  “Shut up, Daniel,” his father hissed before turning to his wife. “I will not have this girl ruin my son’s life!”

  Oh, the look she gave him could have frozen continents, but apparently, either he was very stupid or had very little self-preservation, because he kept going. “When her aunt needed financial help for the doctors, I spent money on this girl. I won’t have her turn her back on my son!”

  “You haven’t spent a dime from your money, dear. I do what I choose with my finances. And, Daniel, if I ever hear of you pulling something like this again, I will disown you.”

  Deanna spoke clearly and slowly, her tone unwavering.

  Both men took a step back as if she had struck them. This whole exchange was like watching a car wreck that I couldn’t possibly stop, and I couldn’t look away.

  “Am I clear enough?”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this!” Daniel screamed, his face contorted in an ugly mask of fury. His voice was thinner than I’d ever heard, and it made me suppress a giggle.

  He stomped his foot—actually stomped his foot like a child—and followed his father, who’d already given up on this fight and started toward h
is town car.

  “Don’t you worry about them, child. I’ll set them straight.”

  I took Deanna’s hand in mine. “Thank you for having my back. I don’t even understand what happened here.”

  “What happened was that two idiot men thought they could bully you into something you didn’t want. They can’t, and I’ll make sure to remind them of that.”

  She offered me a sad smile and went on her way. I breathed a smile of relief. It really was good to have someone as strong as her at my back.

  Not wanting to go back into work, I texted a quick message to Amaya to let her know what was happening and decided to stop by and see Joel. I needed his hugs.

  Thirty-One

  “You’ll Do.”

  LEONIE

  The door opened, and a stranger looked back at me. It wasn’t a stretch of imagination to see the family resemblance—the same dark hair, tanned skin, and jade green eyes that Joel had.

  But where Joel’s eyes shined, this man’s were clouded. The corners of his mouth were cracked, and his lips were bracketed by deep wrinkles as if he’d kept them pursed his whole life. His cheekbones looked puffy and hollow on the inside, his forehead was lined. Drinking had ravaged his features.

  “Hi,” I said, peeking over his shoulder to see if Joel was behind him.

  “Hello.” The single word held a heavy New York accent.

  “Is Joel here?”

  “Ah, so you are Joel’s.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “I’m Richard Thomas,” he said. He pushed his hand into my space, forcing me to raise mine to shake his. He didn’t care if I spoke or if he made me uncomfortable and had no problem showing it. His looks might have once resembled Joel’s, but his demeanor couldn’t be further from his son’s. Joel filled a room with his energy, but Richard Thomas had a rawness about him that made my skin prickle.

  “Leonie Marsh. Nice to meet you, Mr. Thomas.”

  He looked me up and down, making me feel exposed and very, very uncomfortable.

  “You’ll do.”

  His lips barely moved as he muttered the insulting words. That was what Joel had meant when he told me his father spoke through his teeth as a means to intimidate.

 

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