by K. C. Lynn
Whimpering, she shifts on her knees, her hand reaching under her dress to touch herself. Her eyes close in ecstasy, almost shattering the little control I have left.
Somehow, I find the strength to pull back. “Stand up.”
With flushed cheeks and swollen lips, she pushes to her feet.
“Turn around.”
She doesn’t hesitate, following the order.
My chest crowds her back as I splay my hand on her stomach and inch us forward a few steps, stopping at the end of the bed. Her shoulders rise and fall with quick breaths as I slide the straps of her dress down her arms, the material pooling at her feet.
The heavy weight of her full breasts generously fills my hands, her stiff nipples scraping across my palms. Moaning, she hooks an arm around my neck, arching further into my touch.
“Remember the things I used to do to your tits, Alissa? How hot you would get when I’d fuck them before sliding into your mouth? Then I’d come all over them.”
“God, Christopher.” My name falls on a sexy whimper as she pushes back against me.
Smirking, I press a kiss to her temple and coast one hand down her flat stomach, slipping my fingers into her wet panties.
Fucking soaked.
A harsh cry parts her lips, her knees buckling when I stroke her clit.
“Does your pussy ache, baby?”
“So much,” she moans.
“Crawl onto the bed.”
She shivers at my breath in her ear before doing what I tell her.
When I see she’s wearing a thong, her bare ass pointed up for my taking, it’s almost enough to bring me to my fucking knees. Growling, I grip her hips, keeping her in place.
She stills, her breath racing as she waits for my next move.
“You have the best ass and it’s all fucking mine.” My hand glides over one bare globe before delivering a light slap.
Her gasp penetrates the room as she pushes back, seeking more.
“You wanna be spanked, baby?”
“Yes.”
I deliver another one, my hand landing with a resounding smack.
The sound of her pleasure rushes through my veins, my cock aching as I watch her flawless skin turn pink.
My hand dips between her legs and I trail my fingers along the wet satin to the crevice of her ass, stopping at the scrap of material there. “I want this,” I tell her, my voice rough. “It’s the only place I haven’t had you yet and I want no part of you untouched by me.”
Her response is a fiery whimper.
“Is that a yes, Alissa?” I ask, needing the assurance.
“Yes. Every part of me is yours. It always has been.”
The words not only feed my hunger but also soothe the regret I have when it comes to her.
I walk over to my nightstand and retrieve the bottle of lube then move back behind her. Anticipation hammers through me as I finish ridding myself of my jeans then tear the scrap of silk from her hips.
A shiver racks her body, her ass lifting, begging for what I desperately want to give her.
Opening the bottle, I squeeze, drizzling a generous amount over her backside. My fingers glide from the top, all the way down to her pussy.
The sexiest noises escape her as I work my way back up to the spot I need more than my next breath.
“We’re going to take this slow, baby,” I tell her, penetrating the tight barrier with my finger.
“Oh god!” Her breath hitches, filling the air with stark need.
“Relax.” I work her over, each stroke preparing her for more.
Whimpering, she pushes back along my finger, making my cock ache to be in its place.
“More?”
“Yes.”
I stroke my shaft, getting it nice and slick before breaching her tight hole with just the tip.
She cries out, her body tensing.
“Easy, baby. I got you.” Reaching around her hip, I massage her clit.
Her face drops into the mattress, the covers muffling her moans as she accepts more of me.
“Good girl. Take me, Alissa. Feel the burn, baby.”
My hand glides up her soft back, coaxing her with ease. Once I’m fully buried, I still, my head swimming with pleasure as I give her time to adjust.
“Goddamn, you’re perfect,” I grit.
“You feel so good like this,” she whispers, lifting her face for me to hear her.
“So do you, baby.” Gripping her hips, I thrust slow and steady, each one deeper than the last.
“Oh god!”
“You good, Lis?”
“So good. Give me more.”
Growling, I surge forward, harder and faster, my hips slapping against the supple flesh of her ass.
“Yes!” She claws the sheets, her screams of pleasure burning within my blood.
“My dirty girl,” I groan. “You like my cock deep in your ass, don’t you, baby?”
“So much. Don’t stop.”
“Never. I’m never going to stop, Alissa, because you’re fucking mine. Every piece of you belongs to me.”
“Yes. Always.”
Damn straight!
“Stroke your clit, baby. Play with your pussy while I fuck your ass.”
Whimpering, she reaches between her legs while my cock remains relentless.
“I’m going to come.” The warning pushes past her lips.
“Do it, baby. Fucking scream for me.” I deliver another smack on her ass and it gives her the push she needs.
She hurdles over the edge, my name tearing through the room and ricocheting off the walls, filling the deepest part of me.
I follow along with her, diving headfirst into the release we both seek, because in our world, we always finish together.
Our sweat-slicked skin melds together as we fight to catch our breaths.
“You okay?” I ask, praying I didn’t take it too far.
Her body twists beneath me, gracing me with her pretty face. “I’m more than okay.”
Relief fills my chest as I rest my forehead on hers. “Good. I’d never be able to live with myself if I hurt you like that.”
“You could never hurt me like that, Christopher. You don’t have it in you.”
If she only knew what I was capable of she’d never look at me the same way again.
Shoving the painful thought aside, I lift her into my arms. “Come on, baby. Let’s shower.”
We take our time soaking under the hot water. Her soapy hands pass over every scar I bear, the old and the new, grief striking her eyes.
One of the reasons I got the tattoo along my ribs was to cover the jagged marks that were left on me by the razorblades my father hid in my soap, the sick bastard loved to inflict pain.
Whenever Alissa saw them, she hurt. So I covered them, more for her benefit than mine.
“I hate that you have more,” she chokes out.
If she only knew… the scars she sees now are nothing compared to the ones that mar my tarnished soul.
I pull her in close to comfort her and she loves every wound with her lips, healing them more than time ever will.
Once the water begins to cool, we finish up and dry off. Minutes later, we’re back in bed. Comfortable silence fills the room as her head rests on my chest.
“Do you remember the first time we made love?” she asks softly.
“Yeah. It was the best ten seconds of my life.”
Her laughter penetrates the air and fuels one of my own. She turns over onto her stomach, propping her chin on my chest with her fist. “It was beautiful.”
“I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.”
“You knew more than I did.” Her laughter trails off into a beautiful smile, her voice softening. “We were so young.”
“But our love was strong,” I say, finishing the line from my song.
She reaches out, touching my lips. “It sure was.”
The word was breaches the easy moment.
“I have to tell you something
you’re not going to like to hear,” she starts nervously.
My stomach twists, not liking the sound of that. “What?”
“Ryan was at the harbor today when I was there with my dad.”
My muscles tense. “What did he do?”
If he touched her, I will fucking kill him.
“Nothing,” she rushes to assure me. “He just apologized for what happened the other day.”
I’ll just bet he did, and I’m sure he did it with a fucking hug. Rage coils in my body at the thought.
“Then I told him it wasn’t me he should be apologizing to. That if he was truly sorry he’d say it to you.”
I don’t want his fucking apology. I just want him to disappear.
“He also said my mom misses me,” she continues, a hint of sadness entering her voice. “Said she’s been crying and wants to see me.”
“And what do you want?”
She lifts one slender shoulder. “I feel like it’s pointless. My whole life I’ve wanted that special relationship that every mother and daughter should have, but I don’t think she’s capable of it. Not when she can’t respect my decisions.”
“Maybe you should give her another chance,” I say, solely for her benefit and not her mother’s.
“I need to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth. No matter what, okay?”
“I’ll always be honest with you, Alissa.”
She peers up at me, something battling in her gaze. “When we were together all those years ago, did…did my mother do or say things to you when I wasn’t around?”
I hesitate; not wanting to answer the question because I know it will only hurt her.
“Christopher?” she prompts.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does. Now please answer the question,” she says, voice firmer.
“It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”
Her eyes close, despair washing over her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it didn’t matter.”
She opens her eyes again, the pain in them striking me to my core. “How can you say that? It matters to me. I lost you because of her,” she says, her voice rising.
I flip her to her back, settling over top of her. “No! She had no bearing on us. It was me, Alissa. I couldn’t leave and expect you to wait for me. I couldn’t let you give up the best school in the country when I wouldn’t even be here.”
“I would have waited for you,” she confesses on a sob. “I would have been here for every return. You were all I wanted.”
Grinding my teeth, I attempt to suppress the grief threatening to take me. “If I could change the past, Lis, I would in a fucking heartbeat, but I can’t, and it’s a regret I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.”
She holds my gaze, and I will her to see the remorse I carry. Reaching behind my neck, she pulls me down for a kiss, her tears and flavor mixing on my tongue.
Groaning, I pin her hand over her head. She shifts beneath me, spreading her legs, and I enter her once again, the heat of her warming every cold place inside of me.
For the rest of the night we lose ourselves in each other, pretending the last five years never happened.
CHAPTER 20
Christopher
Sweat trickles down my bare back as I sort through the hay bales, stacking them one by one against the barn.
“I’m the queen of the world!” Mia announces, standing on the highest bale with her arms in the air.
“You mean princess,” Ruthie corrects her. “You’re too young to be a queen.”
“Right.” Mia nods. “Princess. And this barn is my kingdom.”
“Who’s your prince?” Alissa asks, walking out of the said kingdom, her smile lighting up the whole damn world. She looks up at Mia, her hand shielding the sun from her face.
My eyes rake down her body in appreciation, admiring the way she looks in her cutoff jean shorts and tight tank top that shows off her slender curves.
Ruthie punches me in the shoulder as she walks past me, her chuckle trailing behind her.
Busted.
“Hmmm.” Mia thinks about it long and hard. “Kistipher.”
I grunt.
“Aw shucks!” Alissa swings her attention my way, her eyes doing some traveling of their own. “I was hoping he’d be my prince.”
I’ll be anything she fucking wants me to be just as long as I can see her smile like that every day.
“Okay, you can have him. I’ll take Daddy.”
“I want the Big Guy,” Ruthie says. “Can we share him?”
“Sure. You can have him on the weekends.”
Alissa bursts into laughter while I shake my head and wonder how we got on this topic to begin with.
“Or you could take Parker,” Ruthie suggests with a knowing smile.
“No way!” Mia’s small arms fold over her chest but I don’t miss how red her cheeks turn.
What the fuck is that all about?
“Okay. It was just a thought.” Ruthie shrugs, climbing onto the four-wheeler.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To pick up Annabelle.”
“Oh, can I come?” Mia’s expression is hopeful, her eyes pleading.
“Sorry, little sis, but I only have room for one. I promise I’ll take you for a ride later, okay?”
Her shoulders slump with disappointment. “Okay.”
Ruthie blows her a kiss then starts up the four-wheeler. The loud engine roars to life, the sound fading as she drives off.
“How about you show me around your kingdom and tell me about your horses?” Alissa suggests.
Her big brown eyes light back up. “I’d love to.”
Walking over to the bale she stands on, I reach up and catch her as she leaps off. I toss her in the air, catching her as she flails back down.
“Again,” she squeals. “I want to touch the sky.”
I throw her higher than the bale, her laughter echoing through the pasture.
“You better be careful or your brother might throw you so high you’ll never come back down,” Alissa teases.
Mia wraps her small arms around my neck, hugging me tight. “He’d never let that happen. Huh, Kistipher?”
There’s so much trust staring back at me. More than I deserve.
“Never, kid.”
The sound of a vehicle pulling up interrupts the moment. Looking over my shoulder, the entire world comes to a standstill, blood roaring in my ears as I recognize the white car parking in front of my house.
“Who’s that?” Mia asks.
I’m unable to answer. Unable to move from the ache scorching my chest like a ball of fire.
“Christopher?” Alissa says softly, tentatively resting her hand on my shoulder.
I flinch, the touch yanking me back into myself. Ignoring the concern in her eyes, I hand her Mia then push forward, each step bringing me closer to a reality I have to face. One I have avoided for far too long.
Gina climbs out of the car, and the sight of my best friend’s wife brings all the guilt that I’ve tried burying bubbling up to the surface.
“Hi, Christopher,” she greets me with a wobbly smile.
“Hey, Gina.”
She lifts her glasses on top of her head, her pain revealed, and it’s as powerful as mine. “Sorry to show up announced like this.”
“Everything okay?”
I mentally kick myself for asking the stupid fucking question. Of course it’s not okay and it won’t ever be. Not without Billy.
“We’re okay. Hanging in there.”
“How’s Christin?” The name slices my throat like a thousand razorblades.
If he’s going to be the coolest kid around he has to have both of our names.
I push aside the voice in my head, my body already in too much turmoil.
Gina’s sad smile transforms into one of pride. “She’s good. Getting bigger every day. She’s even walking.”
“Whoa.”
“She’s a determined little girl.” She chuckles but it quickly fades. “Not surprising though. She’s Billy’s child after all.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you guys.”
She waves away my apology. “Don’t worry about it. We’re not your responsibility.”
They are. I made a promise and I broke it because I’m a fucking coward. Because I couldn’t face her.
“Anyway. The reason I’m here is because I have something for you.” She reaches into her purse and retrieves a yellow envelope with my name on it. “It was in a shoebox in our closet. There was also a note, telling me to make sure I give you these.” Reaching back in, she pulls out his dog tags.
I practically jump back, the sight of them setting fire to my already tortured soul. “No. You keep them.”
She shakes her head. “He wanted you to have them. The note said only the most honorable man can wear them and that’s his best friend.”
Grief swallows me whole, pulling me down into its black abyss.
When I continue to refuse them, she steps forward, forcing them into my hand. The clink of metal is a painful reminder of just how unworthy I am.
“I waited to read his letter,” she whispers, tears forming in her eyes. “Don’t wait to read yours.”
I stare down at the envelope, my mind and body reeling from the pain I have tried to keep buried.
“I need to ask you something.” The overwhelming grief in her voice has my burning eyes lifting to hers. “Did he suffer?”
The question brands me like a hot iron, driving it straight into my chest.
“Please, I need to know,” she says, sorrow twisting her expression. “I’ve been having these horrible nightmares where I can hear him screaming. Begging for me…for his life.” A sob tumbles past her lips. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me he didn’t suffer.”
Every breath I try to inhale is more painful than the last. For the first time in my life, I look someone in the eye and lie through my fucking teeth. “He didn’t suffer.”
“Oh thank God.” She falls against my chest, soaking it with her tears. “I miss him so much.”
My arms come around her, regret raging inside of me. “I’m sorry, Gina,” I choke out, even though the words are meaningless. “So fucking sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
If she only knew the truth. She’d never forgive me, and I wouldn’t blame her because I’ll never forgive myself.