“Sometimes, I still am.” He scrubs his hand over his face. “Sorry for sneaking this shit on you after the nightmare of a day we’ve had, but I can tell it bothers you when I mention her.”
It’s only fair I’m honest back. “Hearing her name makes me feel guilty.”
He pats the space next to him, and I take the invitation, sliding between the small space between us and sit down next to him.
“If anyone should feel guilty, it’s me,” he says.
“I obviously played a part in it.”
He didn’t fuck himself.
“And today was not a nightmare. I enjoyed myself,” I add.
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
I smack his arm. “You know I wouldn’t lie about that. I’ll take every chance I can to bust your balls.”
“Point made. I enjoyed myself, too. To be honest, lately, the only time I seem to be in a happy place is when I’m with you.” He lets out a heavy breath. “You took me out of my stressed out, broken world and gave me a good day. Same with the night we spent together. I like myself when I’m with you. I forget about the loss and the hurt. You make me feel alive again.”
I nod. He misses Lucy and will always miss her but is opening up a portion of himself for me to discover.
Keep going.
No, stop. Red light. Don’t drag me down this tunnel if it ends in hurt.
Keep going.
Why can’t I think straight? I need to think with my head, not my heart.
“If I could take it back, I would,” he goes on.
“Take us back, sleeping together?”
“No, take back my behavior. I might’ve not been all there, but I didn’t bring you to my home for a simple fuck. I promise you that.”
I bump his shoulder with mine. “It’s my turn to say you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“Babe, no bullshit. The opportunity for a quick fuck has been open to me several times, but I’ve never succumbed to any advances. Not one. Drunk. Sober. Horny as hell. It wasn’t only my dick that felt a connection with you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself that morning.” He shakes his head. “I’m still having trouble with admitting that you pulled something out of me.”
I wring my hands together. “Yes, there’s an attraction between us, but that’s as far as our relationship can go.” I refuse to be second best to another woman.
He rests his hand on my knee and sucks in a breath. “I know. We’ll stick to staying friends and co-parents. I didn’t say that in hopes of having sex again. I said it, so you’d know I never meant to disrespect you, and what happened that night seems to be what makes us uncomfortable most of the time. I don’t want that.”
“Me either,” I whisper.
“Good. Then, it’s settled.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders. “We’re new besties.”
It’s almost midnight.
Even though we had the no-more-awkwardness conversation, it has yet to leave the building. Everything was fine while we finished eating, when we had to share a toothbrush because there was only one in the vending machine, and even when we watched endless episodes of Cops, which I learned is his favorite show.
Our problem now is going to bed.
We have to make ourselves comfortable and slip underneath the sheets. The lights will go off. There’s intimacy involved in this whether we like it or not.
“You ready to admit, you’re tired?” Dallas asks when I’m on my eleventh yawn. He chuckles. “Come on, go to sleep. You’re not going to miss anything exciting here.”
“Fine,” I groan out. “If you insist.” My shirt rises when I slide down until my head hits the rock-hard pillow. The air in the room grows thinner when I peek up and notice his eyes pinned to my exposed stomach.
He lifts his hand. “Can I?”
I nod in response since I’m struggling for words. My stomach flutters at the same time he presses his steady hand against it. It dawns on me that he’s never touched my stomach like this before. Not even during the ultrasound.
His touch comforts me, the opposite of what I thought would happen, and I settle myself on my elbows to watch him. He’s gentle, treating me like I’m expensive china, and he cradles my skin with his hand in awe.
“I can’t believe we have two babies growing in here,” he whispers.
I smile when he shifts, so he’s eye-level with my stomach.
“It’s beautiful.” He lifts up to focus on me with compassionate eyes. “You’re fucking beautiful.” He lowers his head and places his lips against my stomach. “Fucking perfection.”
I miss his touch as soon as he pulls away and makes himself comfortable on his side. The smile that’s been plastered to his lips since I gave him the okay is still there while he stares down at me.
He’s waiting for me to tell him not to call me beautiful, to make a sarcastic comment, because that’s what I do when conversations get heavy.
“What are you thinking?” he finally asks.
That your touch calms me more than a lavender bath and an expensive massage. That I wish we hadn’t agreed to keep things platonic because the things I want to do with you right now are far from that.
“I’m thinking …” It takes me a second to come up with something. “I’m thinking today is officially the weirdest day of my life.”
He cocks his head to the side. “That’s what’s heavy on your mind?”
I gulp. “Yep.”
“You seemed to be in deep thought about that,” he argues, running a finger over his chin.
“It’s a deep subject.” Oh, hell. Let’s put our attention back on people getting arrested, please.
“Fuck, I wish I could read your mind right now, but I’ll run with your answer.”
I scrunch up my brows in question.
“I’ll act like I’m convinced with the weirdest-day-of-your-life lie.” A grin plays at his thick lips. “Today was weirder than the time one of Stella’s stalkers broke into her house, dressed as a housekeeper, and begged her to wear black lipstick while going down on him?” He chuckles. “And, if I remember correctly, you tasered him before I even made it into the room.”
“Asshole deserved it,” I mutter.
He bursts out in laughter. Real laughter. I feel like I’ve hit the jackpot every time I get that from him.
“I’ll have to call it a tie between the two.”
“I’ll take that and agree that getting stranded with you has been eventful. The plus is, I’ll always remember this. We’ve formed a stronger relationship and learned more about each other in a day than we did throughout years of working together. So, thank you for the good memories and not bailing on me. Eating ramen noodles and watching a Cops marathon all alone wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun.”
I lower my head to hide the cheesy smile biting at me. He needs to stop talking like this if he wants to stay on the just-friends level. I lift my gaze when he scoots in closer, wiping out the small distance between us, and his eyes soften as he drinks me in.
I play with the chain of my necklace. “What are you thinking?”
It’s my turn to ask the questions. Hopefully, he won’t lie like I did.
His jaw flexes. “You want to know the truth?”
“Of course.”
“What I’m thinking is, how bad I want to kiss you right now,” he answers with no hesitation.
Anticipation drives through my body and straight between my legs, but I keep a calm face. “Then, what’s stopping you?”
Adios, platonic, co-parenting plans. Hello, making shit complicated.
At least it’ll come with an orgasm. Hopefully.
He grins. “Good point.”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips at the same time he presses his mouth to mine. He sucks on the tip of my tongue before dipping his into my mouth. I’ve never found the taste of generic toothpaste so delectable. Our lips slide against each other, as if we’d been doing this for years.
M
y heart pounds when he lifts up to move over me, keeping our lips connected, and I open my legs to allow him enough room to slide between them. I take in a deep breath when his mouth leaves mine to trail kisses down the curve of my neck.
He’s slanted over me, careful of my stomach, and all I’m staring at is his erection straining through the thin gym shorts. My pulse races when I remember how big he is and how electrifying he felt inside me last time. No time is wasted before he rubs his fullness against my core to hit my most sensitive spot. I’m close to having an orgasm before we’ve even started.
It won’t take much. I haven’t been touched in forever, and if he’s telling the truth, neither has he. We need to take this slow if we want it to last.
Unfortunately, what I need isn’t what my body wants.
I need to get off.
I need this to last longer.
Why does this man constantly seem to drag out mixed emotions?
“More,” I beg and squirm underneath him. So much for wanting this to last longer. “I need more.”
More touching. More kissing. More of him everywhere.
My back arches when his mouth returns to mine. This kiss is different than the soft one before. It’s greedy. Untamed. Eager.
“Where do you want more?” he asks against my lips.
“Everywhere,” I moan out.
He groans deep from his throat when I run my foot up and down his leg and start moving into him more aggressive than what’s appropriate. I shift until his cock hits me in the perfect spot, and then I grind against him.
He uses a single finger to untie my shorts, and I wiggle out of them in seconds, desire blazing through me. He doesn’t bother removing my panties. Doesn’t see them as a challenge.
Instead, he pushes the lace to the side and gives my clit the attention I’ve been dying for, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.
I gasp when he slowly slips a finger inside me while still giving me the feel of his cock. His thick finger gracefully moves in and out of me. Not how I want it. I move against him harder to tip him off on how I need it.
“Slow down, baby,” he says with a laugh. “You keep doing that, and my dick is going to explode. You probably want this to last longer than a few minutes.”
“I don’t care how long it lasts if I get what I want,” I mutter.
He chuckles and shoves another finger into me without warning. He gives me rough. “That better?”
“God, yes,” I moan out in response.
“I have something you’ll enjoy even more.”
He dips his fingers out of me in order to grab the strings of his shorts.
Finally. This is what I need.
The sound of a phone ringing startles me.
His hand drops from his shorts, and he curses under his breath. My heart beats wildly when he places them in his mouth and sucks on them on the way to his gym bag. I can’t stop staring at the outline of his swollen cock when he opens the bag and grabs his phone.
We were right there.
Right freaking there.
My vagina does not deserve this.
He checks the caller before answering.
“Hello?” He drops down in the chair and expels a stressed breath. “Hey, honey. How’s camp?” he croaks out. “What’s wrong? You’re feeling homesick? That happened to me my first time there, too.” He pauses. “I promise.”
I catch my breath when he falls quiet again.
“You know what helped me? I wrote my parents a letter, telling them all the cool stuff I was doing there. I’ll ask your counselor to mail it out for you, and I should get it before I pick you up.”
I pull my shorts up at the next pause. We won’t be finishing this.
“Good. I’ll be waiting for the postman every day.”
I sit up on the bed.
“Call me if you need anything, okay? Good night. I love you.”
He ends the call and tosses the phone on the desk. His eyes are pinned to the floor while he sits there, looking tortured. His chest heaves in and out, and the only sound is coming from the police sirens on the TV.
“Dallas,” I finally whisper.
He lifts his head, and my chest aches at the unease on his face.
“Shit, Willow. I’m fucking sorry.”
He pushes out of the chair, his erection not as visible as before when he was about to screw me but still there, and then he storms out of the room.
Tears slip down my face.
Another rejection.
I’m done lying to myself.
I’m done thinking he’ll change.
Fuck Dallas Barnes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dallas
I deserve the rain pouring down on me in front of our hotel room. I deserve to get sucker-punched in my fucking face, mugged right here on this sidewalk, and stabbed in the back for how I treated Willow again.
My cock is hard. The taste of Willow’s sweet pussy is on my tongue. My head is not only blasting with thoughts of how turned on I am, but also of how terrible of a man I am.
I did it again—treated her like shit and walked away while in the moment.
Willow deserves someone better than me, someone who isn’t a mess. But why does it kill me to picture her having that someone? Why can’t I get her out of my head and stay in this miserable place, as I promised myself I would months ago?
I shake my head in agony. What would it look like to Lucy if I fell for someone else? That would hurt her memory, show I was a shitty husband, make it seem like she was replaceable in my eyes.
I bang my palms against the motel’s brick wall. But, Jesus, fuck, what about me?
I clench my hands and stalk back and forth, depicting a serial killer.
Would it hurt Lucy if I moved on?
She’s gone.
Hell, knowing Lucy, she’s probably smiling down at me. She begged me to find someone else to love and made me promise I’d eventually move on, for my daughter’s sake and mine. I agreed, lying to her on her deathbed.
But who wouldn’t when time was running out and you didn’t want to waste your last words arguing about giving your heart to another woman?
I never thought it was possible. The thought of touching another woman made my skin crawl.
Until Willow.
Can I stay confined in my miserable bubble? Keep my heart in reserve because I’m terrified of losing someone I care about again?
I tilt my head up to stare at the dark sky.
“Lucy, baby, tell me what to do. Am I making a wrong move or being a fucking idiot?” I whisper while a million thoughts rush through my mind.
The bed is empty when I walk back into the motel room. I look at the window first, like a dumbass, considering the window is right next to the door, and I would’ve seen her leave. The bathroom light shines through the bottom of the door, and I hear the shower turn on.
Lucky for me, the door isn’t locked. My hand is shaking when I open it while taking a deep breath. I make out her breathtaking silhouette through the thin shower curtain at the same time I hear her crying.
Damn it! I’m a fucking asshole.
I take a step into the room and say her name.
She doesn’t reply.
I repeat it, louder this time.
Silence.
I strip out of my wet clothes, and when I climb in across from her, she pushes me back.
“What the hell, Dallas?” she shrieks. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” is all I can muster. Sorry for scaring her, for turning her down, for acting like an asshole. Why am I always fucking up with her?
Her tears get lost in the water. “I’m sick of your sorrys. I’m done, Dallas.” She throws her hands up. “Done with your bullshit games. I refuse to be some toy for you to play with when it’s convenient for you.”
She winces when I stretch my arm out to move her fiery-red hair from her face, so I can see her beautiful green eyes better.
Today was
a good day. We had fun. I told her shit no one else knows. I felt our babies in her stomach for the first time. We kissed. I had my hand in her panties and fingers in her pussy.
Then, I fucked it all up.
“No more bullshit,” I whisper. “I promise.”
“Your promises don’t mean shit,” she says with a snort, throwing my words back at me. “It only makes you look like more of a jackass each time.”
I am a jackass.
“Tell me what you want me to do. How can I make this right?”
“Let yourself live!” she shouts. “Get it through that thick skull of yours that it’s okay to move on, for your sake!” She stabs her finger into my chest. “For your daughter’s sake!” Her finger moves to my stomach. “For my fucking sake!”
I cup her cheeks with both hands. “I’ve tried,” I ground out. “I’ve tried telling myself I shouldn’t do this with you, but maybe that’s where I’m going wrong. I’m not supposed to be fighting it.” I caress her soft skin. “Neither one of us is supposed to be fighting it because the only thing that feels natural is this. Us together.”
“No,” she breathes out. “You only fight shit that you don’t want to happen.”
“Trust me, fighting it means, it’s all I want to happen.” She shakes her head, and I wipe away her tears. “Say the word. Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you want me to leave this shower.”
She breathes in deep breaths and stays quiet.
“Do you want me to leave?” I stress.
She pinches her lips together and won’t answer.
“Or would you rather I did this?”
She gasps when I fall to my knees and inch her feet apart. I run my hand up her leg and straight to the opening of her pussy.
“Answer my question,” I demand.
Instead of pushing me again, she slips her hand into my hair and moans. “That. I’d rather you did that.” Her nails dig deep into my scalp before I make another move. “Keep going.”
And that’s what I do.
I situate one of her legs on the edge of the bathtub, and her body trembles at the first swipe of my tongue.
The taste of her is sweet.
Fucking heavenly.
Just One Night Page 13