I wasn’t sure how she would handle this trip. It took days before she felt safe enough to leave the bedroom. I was worried about how long it would take her to leave the house. So we bypassed the casual stroll around the neighborhood and went straight to a transcontinental flight? To meet a gang lord, no less. In retrospect, I want to kick my own arse for going along with it. The list of things that could have gone wrong is longer than the Thames. But she was eager to go, and it’s very hard to say no to her. Not simply because I don’t want to disappoint her, but because deep down, I knew there was a good chance she’d hop on a plane and go herself.
Remarkably, the trip doesn’t seem to have fazed her in the least. In fact, she seems more like her old self: smiling, affectionate, snarky. On the drive from Anaheim to the Four Seasons in Los Angeles, she was non-stop excitement and enthusiasm. She actually wanted to go to a club! Thankfully, I was able to talk her into staying in. She was reluctant, but once she saw the bathroom and spectacular view from our hotel room, she caved.
My mobile rings just as we’re getting settled in the room. I kiss the top of Lily’s head. “I have to take this. Why don’t you hop in the tub?”
“Smashing idea,” she says, attempting an English accent.
I tap her nose. “Better. But then again, it couldn’t possibly get worse.” My mobile rings again. I hold it up. “I’ll be back in just a moment.” As soon as I’m out of earshot, I click talk. “Leo. How are you, mate?”
“Good. Good,” he replies. “I’d love to have time to chat, but I only have a minute. It’s my night tonight with my daughter, and if I don’t get out of here now, I’ll never make it across town in time, but a report just came in and I wanted to call you straight away.”
“Fire away. I don’t want to keep you from your Twilight marathon.”
He chuckles. “I don’t understand how she can watch the same movies over and over, but it makes her happy, so I do it. Anyhoo, the medical examiner’s report came back. After our last conversation, I asked the medical examiner to run a full medical profile, looking specifically at communicable diseases.” I hear the shuffling of papers, then he says, “The only issue Mr. Cortez was facing was cirrhosis of the liver. Lily should be fine.”
Sighing, I lean against the railing and run my fingers through my hair. “Oh, thank heavens. She’ll be so relieved. I can’t tell you how much this was weighing on her.”
“I thought that might take a weight off your shoulders. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a full evening of take-away pizza and teenage angst waiting for me. If only I could remember which one is the vampire and which one is the werewolf. She feels very strongly about one, but I can never keep them straight.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. Good luck with that, Leo. Cheers.” I jog to the bathroom and find Lily buried under a blanket of bubbles.
A full wine glass rests in her delicate fingers, whilst her eyes are closed and Jack Johnson plays from her mobile. “That was fast,” she says without opening her eyes.
I sit next to the tub. “It was Leo.”
“Hmmm? What’s new with the task force? Are they even still doing anything?”
She takes a sip of her wine, and a small amount dribbles down her chin to her chest, leaving a slow trail until it disappears in the bubbles resting in the valley between her breasts. My pulse takes off like a jack rabbit, and my trousers become painfully snug. Shifting so that I may reposition, I fight to keep my libido in check. My heart and mind know Lily is still healing and a long way from sexual intimacy. My todger, on the other hand, sometimes forgets.
“Not much,” I say, trying to get my head on straight. “He got the medical examiner’s report and wanted to share the results with me.”
Setting down the glass, she pulls her knees up to her chest then turns her head to face me. “Do I want to know?”
I pick up the wash cloth, dunk it into the water, then wring it out. “You’re safe. Other than a decaying liver, he was clean.” I run the cloth along her back.
“So I’m okay?”
I kiss her shoulder. “You’re perfect.”
She tucks her chin and presses her forehead against her thighs. “Oh, thank God.” She takes a few deep breaths. “I was sure my punishment was going to be catching some horrible, disgusting thing from him. Then he’d be stuck with me for the rest of my life.”
“Now you’re free.”
She looks over her shoulder. “Not yet, but soon.” She picks up her glass and hands it to me. “Would you be willing to get me a refill? It’s not bad that I’m drinking in the middle of the day, is it?”
“It’s suppertime for us, luv. And is there ever a bad time to drink wine?”
I return to the living room and pick up the bottle of Bordeaux. Turning to return to the loo, the bottle almost slips through my grasp when I see Lily standing before me stark naked. Errant bubbles glide down her toned legs. I should get her a towel. Or a blanket. I should do anything but stare at her, but I can’t pull my eyes away. She’s just so damn beautiful. The air conditioning kicks on, and a blast of cold air makes her nipples pebble and my resolve crumble.
Clearing my throat, I turn my attention to pouring her wine. “You should hop back in the tub before you catch cold.” I watch the wine leave the bottle, captivated by the stream flowing into the glass. Anything so I stop staring at her as if I’m a starving man and she’s the first meal I’ve seen in a week.
She steps toward me. “I’m not cold.”
I put the wine bottle on the table. “Are you sure? You look cold.”
She takes another step. “Nope,” she says, popping the P. “Not cold.”
Wiping my sweaty hands on my trousers, I feel like a pubescent teenager trying to hide his arousal from the pretty girl in class. “Really? That blasted air conditioner feels positively arctic. I could get you a robe from the closet.” I turn toward the bedroom, trying to ignore the fact that she’s standing right in front of me.
She puts her hand on my stomach. “Oxford?”
“Yes, luv?” I reply, my voice cracking the slightest bit, adding to my embarrassment.
“Stop talking.” She puts her hand on my cheek then guides my face toward hers.
She looks at me with hooded eyes, and I’m so confused I don’t know what to think. I swallow hard and try to steady my breathing. She puts her hands on my chest then slowly brings them together to unbutton the top button of my shirt.
“Lily, I—”
She kisses me before I can say another word. “I’m okay,” she says against my lips.
I pull away slightly so I can look in her eyes. “Yes, but just because the test results say you’re healthy doesn’t mean you have to rush into anything. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t feel like you need to push yourself if you’re not ready.”
She unbuttons another button on my shirt then pushes her hands underneath the fabric, running her hands along my chest. “Maybe I am ready.”
“Lil, it’s only been a few days.”
“Yesterday I would’ve thought I was insane for even thinking about sex.” She shrugs. “But… I don’t know. Maybe it’s getting away to a new place, getting out of that house. Maybe it’s the wig and makeup. Maybe it’s that I have a purpose, something to do. Maybe it’s this cowboy getup that’s really freaking hot. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Like I’ve been given a chance to step out of myself for a day. To stop endlessly thinking about what happened. It’s so freaking liberating to not feel the crushing weight of it smothering me. Then you tell me I have nothing to worry about, and I want to celebrate that. It’s so nice not to think. Please, I’m trying not to overthink this. Just let me go with it.”
I brush a damp lock out of her eyes. “I don’t want to do anything you might regret.”
“I want this. I want you, and if I don’t do this right now, I will regret it. Because that’ll be letting him win. Please?”
It kills me to think of the memory of that bastard anywhere
near our bed, but like it or not, that’s our reality. “Dear god, luv, the last thing you need to do is beg me to make love to you.”
I lean forward and kiss her neck, and her whole body tenses. A look of sheer panic flashes across her face.
I jump away from her. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” How could I be so stupid?
Panting and clenching her fists, she says, “It’s okay.” She looks anything but okay. “It’s not you. You did nothing wrong.”
I want to reach out to her, but I’m afraid even touching her might exasperate her anxiety. “Maybe it’s just too soon.”
She releases her fists. “No, that’s not it. I want this.”
“You have nothing to prove. You—”
She shakes her head. “I think,” she says between pants. “I think I need to be in control.” She stares me in the eye, letting me know how serious she is. “Are you okay with that?”
The thought of her taking control drives me wild, but this is different. My emotions are a jumbled mess right now. I have no idea what I’m supposed to think or feel. I reach to touch her, but thinking better of it, I pull back. “Of course. Whatever you need.”
She swallows hard then takes a deep breath. With each tiny step she takes closer to me, my body shivers in anticipation of her touch. She looks me in the eye and gives me a little nod. The panic has washed away from her face and been replaced with a look of determination. I worry she’s doing this out of some stubborn need to prove to herself that she can, and I pray she doesn’t hate herself or me for it after. On the other hand, if this is what she needs, if this will help her heal and move forward, then I want to give it to her. All I can do is listen to her words and her body and trust that she’ll stop if this turns from pleasure to pain.
I want to lean forward and kiss her, but I refrain. She’s made it clear she needs to be in control, so I wait. She unbuttons the remaining buttons of my shirt and pushes it off me so it falls on the floor. Her soft fingertips trace the contours of my abs, and her feather-light touch sends chills through my body. She outlines each muscle as though she’s exploring me, looking at me for the first time.
She kisses my neck softly. I feel her trepidation, the slight tremor in her hand, and the whisper of her panting breath against my collarbone. She’s nervous, but it isn’t holding her back. She runs her tongue down my neck. Her nipples rub against my chest, and a moan escapes my lips. She pulls back slightly and looks at me with a devilish grin as her hands move to my belt. Slowly, she removes my belt, unbuttons my trousers, then pushes them, along with my boxers, to the floor.
She pushes against my shoulders, and I step out my puddled trousers. She continues to lead me backward until my calves hit the sofa. My eyes never leaving hers, I sit. She stands before me in all her glorious beauty. Placing one hand on each inner thigh, she spreads my legs slightly then stands before me.
She takes my hands from their resting place on my thighs and pushes them to the back of the sofa. “Whatever you do, don’t touch.”
I nod to show her I understand.
She straddles me, positioning herself above my throbbing cock. I’m desperate to touch her, not only for my pleasure but to help get her ready for me. She hovers above me for a moment, as though she’s considering if she’s really ready for this. I look into her eyes, trying to offer support and reassurance, but when I feel her arousal trickle down my hardness, my eyes roll back and I almost come right there. She snickers then lowers herself onto me.
She’s tight, oh so fucking tight, her pussy gripping me like a vise. She lowers herself, allows her body to stretch, then pulls up and lowers herself again. Each time, she accepts more of me. She feels so amazing, I lean forward and raise my hips to meet her.
She pushes my shoulders back. “No moving. I need to do this myself.”
Digging my nails into the soft leather sofa, I fight every urge to touch her, to pull her closer, to drive myself deep inside her. Slowly she moves, taking more of me. Her movements are careful, deliberate. Her eyes are pinched shut, and I worry about what she’s feeling. She raises her thighs until only my swollen crown remains inside her. Opening her eyes, she bites her lip. Her eyes meet mine, then she drops onto me, plunging my cock deep inside her.
Being wrapped in the warmth of her pussy makes me feel as if the gates of heaven have opened. Every time she grinds against me, my body screams for release, but I resist the urge to come. Being with her, feeling this connection, is so powerful, so intense, I’m not ready for it to end.
Lily’s moans get louder, and her motions become more urgent. One hand goes to her breast, and the other hand slides between her legs. I can’t count the number of times I’ve fantasized about Lily pleasuring herself, and it’s more erotic than I ever could have imagined. I can’t turn off the voice in the back of my head telling me it’s wrong to be turned on by this, but with her expression of sheer pleasure, it’s impossible not to be.
My inner conflict is drowned out by her whimpers of pleasure. Grinding her pelvis into me, she arches her back, letting her head tip back. Her blond waves bounce with each undulating thrust. Her hands fall away from her clit and her breast.
“Touch me, Gavin,” she moans. “Touch me. Touch me everywhere. Make me yours.”
Not needing to be told twice, I move my hands under her arse and flip her over onto the sofa. I look in her eyes, seeking permission, and the lust I find tells me everything I need to know. I desperately want to ravage her, but I know better. She’s granted me her trust, and I need to keep my wanton desire in check so that I don’t lose it.
I cup her face and look into her eyes. “Do you know how much I love you? I hope you do, because I don’t think I can put it into words. The words for the depth and breadth of my love for you haven’t been invented yet.”
“You don’t have to have the words. You can show me.” She pulls me down and kisses me.
My hand runs down her body as our tongues move together in a seductive tangle. When my fingertips graze her nipples, her head tips back, and she moans.
“I need you,” she begs. “Now, please, I need you.”
She guides my hand between her legs and pushes my fingers into her wetness. I leave a trail of kisses down her body until I reach her core. Gently separating her folds, I taste her. Dear God, it has been too long. Desperate for more, I bury my face between her legs, my tongue licking and laving her clit. She gasps, her back arching high off the sofa. Pulling her hips back to me, I flick my tongue against her bud, and she falls apart.
Her sweat-glistened chest rises and falls as she lies there with her eyes closed. I lean back on my heels and look at her. The serene look on her face is more intense to me than any orgasm.
She smiles. “I hope you’re not done, because I’m not.” She pulls me on top of her.
I brush the hair out of her eyes and stare at her for another moment. I want to remember her just like this, so at peace, so content, so fucking beautiful. Her eyes close and a smile spreads across her face as I push into her. Sweet groans of pleasure leave her lips, and I thrust deeper and deeper into her. My body tightens as my orgasm builds. Knowing I’m close, I reach between us and rub her clit. She’s so sensitive, I barely have to touch her for her to come again. The powerful wave of ecstasy hits me seconds later, and I empty myself inside her.
My body is spent and aching to collapse, but I remain above her, searching her face for any sign of how she feels. Her eyes are closed, and she looks peaceful.
“I’m okay, Oxford. You can stop looking at me like you broke me,” she says, not opening her eyes. “I’m floating in a post-orgasmic high. Don’t be a buzzkill.”
Relived, I fall onto the sofa next to her and pull down the blanket draped over the back of the sofa. “Float away, luv.” I brush the hair out of her eyes then kiss her forehead. “Float away.”
We both drift in and out of sleep for a few hours. I wake as the sun is setting, and I catch her looking out the window at the view of Los Angeles.
“Thank you,” she says. “I needed to do that, to reclaim my sexuality, I guess. Thank you for being here with me.”
“There isn’t any place in the world I would rather be.”
“Not just now,” she says, flipping onto her side to face me. “For all of it.”
“As I said, there’s no place I’d rather be.” My chaste kiss quickly becomes more until her stomach growls.
“Food break?” I ask.
“Nah,” she says, resuming our kiss. Her stomach growls louder and longer this time. “Yeah, okay. Maybe a food break. But I’m not putting on clothes!”
“Deal.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lily
Reclaiming my sexuality is the only way I can think of to describe what just took place. I know Gavin would do anything he could to help me erase the memories, but I’ve come to realize that he can’t do it for me—I need to do it myself.
When he reached to kiss my neck, it triggered a memory, and I never want that with him. I want my time with him to be ours, not haunted by ghosts. But when I was in control, my mind didn’t wander. My thoughts were my own, and it was gloriously liberating.
Was it too soon? I have no idea. Gavin worries that it was, but who’s to say? If I were to sit down with a shrink, I’m sure he or she would find a million things wrong with the way I’m handling what happened. But I feel fine. Great actually. Isn’t that all that matters?
“Have you decided, luv?” he asks, breaking me out of my daze.
I look at the menu again. “‘Dandelion salad with raw buckwheat burger served with sunflower aioli.’ Who the hell eats this shit?” Tipping down the room service menu so I can look at Gavin, I ask, “Takeout?”
He takes the menu and glances at it. “This takes California cuisine to a whole new level. With all the tofu and tempeh on this menu, I’m craving red meat. BOA Steaks is right down the street.”
“I was thinking sushi,” I reply, reaching for my phone to find a restaurant.
He laughs. “Sushi sounds great, and there’s a place not too far from here that I’m sure will deliver. Do you want me to call an order to the concierge?”
When Fates Align Page 27