by Sami Lee
His fingers twisted in her hair when she drew his jeans and underwear down his thighs. She gave him what he wanted, what she wanted, and tasted his length with a long, slow lick. She looked up, watching him watch her as she ran her tongue around the circumference of his cock, took hold of the base and eased it into her mouth.
“Oh my God. Sweetheart… Yes. Feels so good.”
His groaned encouragements spurred Penny on, and she relaxed her throat muscles, taking him in as far as possible. She swirled her tongue as she bobbed her head on him, slowly, lovingly. She cupped his balls in her free hand and squeezed lightly until he cursed and his hips gave a reflexive jerk.
“Jesus!” he panted. “You make me want to fuck your mouth.”
Penny moaned, knowing he would feel the vibration of it on his shaft. She increased the pace of her maneuvers, letting him know how much his words turned her on. Greg’s grip on her hair tightened, and he thrust into her as she wanted him to, embedding himself deep into her mouth over and over.
“Incredible…God. Stop, sweetheart.” His command was raw and desperate as he used his grip on her hair to draw her off him. “I’ll come this way.”
“I want you to.”
“I want your cunt,” he said frankly. “Is it wet for me?”
His direct language made dampness rush out of her. Heart pounding, Penny stood. Greg’s attention never left her as she slipped her hand into her lace panties and through her sodden folds. When her fingers were coated with her juices, she lifted them to her mouth. She held Greg’s gaze as she licked her own taste from them.
“Fuck.”
He grabbed her wrist, his grip taut, and transferred her fingers from her mouth to his. He sucked on them, looking deep into her eyes as he moaned his pleasure. Penny’s nipples were as hard as rocks, her clit swollen and desperate for the feel of that tongue gliding over it. In the end it was she who closed her eyes. Gazing at him only made the love that had planted itself inside her expand until it hurt more than she could bear.
She felt the air shift as Greg removed his clothes and got on his knees, held her breath in the heartbeat before he tongued her clit through the flimsy lace of her underwear. Penny gasped a grateful yes and held his head to her, rolling her hips to the frantic rhythm of his strokes. He lifted her left leg and hooked it over his shoulder, opening her pussy to him. Penny held on, whimpering with carnal response as he shifted her panties to one side and buried his tongue in her channel.
“Oh, baby. Yes. I need you.” Her hips gyrated as he fucked her with his tongue. She wanted more. She wanted it deeper, harder. She needed it. She repeated her words, referring to more than an orgasm. “I need you.”
Greg withdrew his tongue and used it to tease her exposed clit a few more times before resting his forehead on her stomach. His breath shuddered out of him. “I need you too.”
Penny’s heart clenched. “Then take me.”
He pushed her down on the bed. He pulled her panties down and off. Penny hooked her feet around his hips and used them to draw him forward. Greg all but fell on her, resting his weight on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush her. Then he took her in one sure plunge.
Penny cried out. It was astoundingly good, incredibly right the way he filled her. Like he was a piece of her that was missing until they were locked together in this most primal of ways. She grasped his hips, her fingernails digging into his ass, inciting his deep strokes.
“Penny.” He took her face in his hands and kissed it everywhere—her cheeks, her jawline, her mouth. He kissed her full and hard, tangling with her tongue, before coming up for air and snagging her gaze with his. “Together. I want us to come together.”
She wanted that too. “Yes.”
His jaw bunched as he slowed his strokes. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
A laugh barked out of her. She’d been ready the second he’d hauled her into his arms on the porch and demanded she show him how she felt. “Since when have I ever needed time? Love me hard, baby. I’m close.”
“I love it when you call me that,” he growled, his eyes bright as he drove into her the way she liked. His pelvic bone massaged her clit with each plunge, and Penny soon felt the tightening in her core, the telltale beginning of the end. “Say it again.”
“Baby,” Penny breathed, willing to say or do anything he asked in that moment. “So good. Give me what you’ve got, I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Penny threw her head back as the spasms began, but Greg urged her to keep still. “Look at me.”
Penny did, knowing he might see everything in her eyes as the climax gripped her. She gasped and swore and thrashed beneath him, and Greg watched it all. Then he groaned his own release and let her see him be taken away by it, his handsome features painted in stark lines of bliss. His hips jerked as he spilled himself inside her, his motions reckless, his face unguarded. They were both exposed as they stared at each other, their panted breaths mingling as the sharp points of ecstasy smoothed out. The rocking of their bodies became a gentle sway and, finally, stillness.
With fingers that trembled, Greg brushed a wayward strand of her hair from her face. “Penelope Irving,” he said, his expression so intense it made her heart flip even before his words were out. “I love you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Penny’s sharp intake of breath punctured the evening quiet. She grew still beneath him and her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Oh, Greg…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he rushed to tell her, thinking, Shit shit shit! Too much, too soon. She thinks you’re nuts. “I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just… After what just happened I had to tell you, that’s all. I love you, Penny. Nobody’s ever made me feel the way you do.”
In the low light, Greg saw the way her usually open green eyes shuttered. “What about her?”
“That was different,” he said, knowing she was talking about Rochelle. “This is different.”
“Oh, baby, of course it is.” She reached up to stroke his cheek. “She was your fiancée and I’m the transitional woman.”
Greg frowned. “You’re the what?”
Penny sighed and pushed on his chest until he had no choice but to acquiesce and release her. She sat up and reached down to the floor for her shirt. “You’ve known me what—three weeks? You told me yourself that a three-month courtship with Rochelle was rushing things. Don’t you think this is rushing things?”
She was only pointing out all the solid reasons he’d had for cooling things down with her—not that he’d managed to do that anyway, not with her kissing him and defending his honor and sucking his cock like she never wanted to stop—but Greg didn’t like hearing them from Penny’s mouth. “I don’t care.” He sounded ridiculous, petulant. “I know what I feel.”
She pulled her shirt over her head and rounded on him. “Do you? Because if there’s even the slightest doubt in your mind, I don’t want to hear you say you l-love me. It means too much, Greg. This hurts too much.”
To his horror he saw she was crying again, only this time it wasn’t in frustration or anger. Her paled cheeks and terror-filled eyes told him she was deeply afraid. Distressed to find himself the cause of any upset Penny might feel, Greg tried to reach for her, but she stood and slipped out of his grasp. “Penny, listen to me.”
“No, you listen to me.” She whirled around, tears glistening on her cheeks. “Did you or did you not have a minor freak-out at the movies because you couldn’t stop thinking about your ex-fiancée?”
Stinging heat filled his cheeks at how accurately she’d pegged his thought processes. “I wasn’t thinking about her in the way you’re implying.”
“I’m implying you were turning your wedding day over and over in your mind until you made yourself crazy wondering what you did wrong to cause the utter failure that it was.”
“Oh,” Greg said. “Then
I was doing that.”
“Of course you were,” she said sadly. “Because you feel responsible for everything that’s not right in the world. You’re also a man who believes in facts and evidence. And the fact is, all the evidence points to you not being over your ex-fiancée.”
“Penny, I don’t love Rochelle anymore,” he said as he grabbed his underwear and his jeans and dragged them on. “I love you.”
“You’re grateful to me because I’m so damned awesome in bed.”
It was such an outrageous statement that Greg laughed. It was a sound devoid of mirth. “Of course I’m grateful. Every guy in the world is grateful for every blow job he ever gets. And hell yes, you’re awesome in bed. I can’t get enough of you. How does that equate to me not knowing how I feel about you?”
“It was just sex. We said that from the start.”
“It’s never been just sex for me, I told you that tonight. Hell, I’ve shown you that. I like you. I care about you. I crave you, so much that when I’m not spending time with you I can barely stand it. If that’s not love, what is it?”
“Healing,” Penny told him. “You’re healing from a bad wound, but you’re not healed yet.”
Greg threw up his hands. “You are the most frustrating, exasperating—”
“I want to get married.”
Her blurted statement brought him up short. “What?”
“I said I want to get married. I know I come across as unconventional, but inside there’s a staunchly traditional girl who wants the whole shebang. I want a dress and a cake and a church wedding with my sisters to stand up for me, and I want a man who is willing to declare in front of the whole world that he’s going to love me forever. Does that frighten you?”
It was all Greg could do not to hyperventilate at the thought of standing at another altar, waiting for another girl. The blood drained from his face, but he said, “No.”
Her lips twisted mirthlessly. “Liar.”
He wanted to refute the term. He wasn’t lying about what he felt, and he wasn’t delusional. Hadn’t he been thinking this evening that he could see himself married to Penny one day? But you wanted to elope, Danvers. The thought of going through with everything Penny just listed makes you sick.
“You’re not over it, Greg.” Her voice was gentle and so full of truth that Greg couldn’t deny it. “Much as I wish you were, you’re not. You need to sort yourself out before you can move forward. I think…I think you need to go see Rochelle.”
He stared at her, incredulous. “You called her a perfectly horrible bitch.”
“That she might be, but she’s a bitch who has some kind of hold on you.”
Greg could hardly believe what he was hearing. He’d told her he loved her, and she was telling him to go see his ex. Not the reaction he’d been hoping for. He ran his hands over his face, trying to make sense of his emotions. It was difficult to do when his mind was still shattered into a million pieces from their bout of incredible, emotion-charged lovemaking.
How could Penny still throw the words “just sex” at him after what they’d shared? He could have sworn she felt something as powerful as he had, something so overwhelming the words had simply insisted on coming out. Of him anyway. He couldn’t help but notice Penny hadn’t responded in kind.
He loved her. He knew it. He felt it. He felt something on her end too, despite her not saying the words. Yet he couldn’t deny the logic of her arguments. It did seem too early in their relationship—could you even call their affair that?—for major declarations. He’d known that earlier in the car before she’d totally derailed him with her irresistible Pennyness. He’d known it a week ago when he’d first recognized how deep his feelings ran, and had decided not to scare Penny by revealing them. He’d assured himself he’d tell her he loved her only when she was ready to believe him.
Instead, he’d blurted it out in the aftermath of a mind-scrambling orgasm, which went contrary to plan. Everything would have been fine if he simply hadn’t said those three, explosive little words and made Penny bring up marriage and church weddings and…
His throat grew tight. Those were some high expectations, and Greg had no idea if he could live up to them. He’d been trying to be the kind of man she deserved, but he’d had no idea about the church-wedding thing. He hadn’t thought Penny would harbor such traditional fantasies.
The fear that he simply wasn’t enough for her made him cold all over. The chill infiltrated his voice. “If it’s too soon for I love yous, it’s a bit soon to put down ultimatums about marriage.”
“It’s not an ultimatum,” she countered. “I’m in no rush to get married. But you ought to know what you’re getting into. I can’t keep settling for men who sort of like me. I want someone who’s willing to go to the ends of the earth. Someone who’d get a tattoo for me the way Ty did for Summer. Someone who’d wait ten years for his chance to love me the way Aaron did for Jasmine—”
“I’m not a tattoo kind of guy,” Greg cut in sardonically. “But if it proves something to you, I’d get one.”
“I don’t want you to get a tattoo! Don’t take me literally. I don’t want to literally get married yet either, but I can’t be with someone who flat out doesn’t want to, someone who doesn’t think relationships outside familial ones are even necessary.”
Lord, he’d never regretted a statement more than he regretted making that one on the beach that morning. He’d believed it at the time. Now he saw it for how ludicrous it was. He wanted more with Penny, he needed her, despite insisting that day he didn’t need anybody. He’d changed since then. Loving Penny had changed him.
Maybe he could change his aversion to weddings too, given the right motivation. He was certainly motivated, if his prize was Penny’s heart. What of the method? Could Penny be right? Did he need to exorcise the ghost of Rochelle once and for all?
He needed time to think that through. The thought of coming face to face with Rochelle was daunting. If she told him the honest-to-God truth about why she jilted him, would he like what he heard? What if the thing that had sent her running was something about him he couldn’t change? Something that would eventually send Penny running too?
Maybe he simply sucked at being in a relationship. If that were the case, he had nothing to offer anyone.
“Okay, you need time. I get that.” Maybe she was right and he needed time too, time away from her where he wasn’t clouded by how much he ached to be inside her. “I think I should leave.”
He couldn’t deny he was disappointed when she didn’t contradict him. Instead, she opened the door to her bedroom and stepped aside to let him out. Greg had to swallow over a jagged lump that formed in his throat. Granting them some time and distance might seem like the sensible thing to do, but it sure did suck.
Greg stopped in front of her on his way out. “Penny, we’ll work through this when you’re feeling less emotional.”
“Ha!” She lifted her head and pinned him with her watery stare. “I’m the only one who’s not letting their emotions run away with them. Maybe one day you’ll appreciate the effort, and how…hard this is for me.”
The catch in her voice almost did him in. He wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her, even though she was the one who’d thrown his words of love away as if they meant nothing. It’s possible she simply doesn’t have feelings for you, Danvers. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time his love had been rejected.
It was that thought, the ghost of past rejections, that had Greg stalking out the door without another word.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Greg parked in his garage, the sense of having been kicked in the stomach giving rise to a vague nausea. The feeling only intensified when he walked into the house to find something wasn’t quite right. A light emanated from the study, when he was positive he hadn’t left a lamp on in there.
The hairs on
the back of Greg’s neck stood to attention and his skin chilled. Carefully, he slipped out of his shoes and crept across the living room, sticking to the shadowy walls to ensure he didn’t alert whoever was inside. For someone was inside his house—he could hear the rustling of papers and the sharp report of one filing-cabinet drawer slamming shut, the glide of another one opening.
Heart hammering, his hand on his phone ready to call the police, Greg sidled up to the study door, which was ajar. A wedge of light spilled out, and in the illumination Greg saw his brother rifling through his personal files.
Relief calmed his heart rate somewhat, but anger kept it in the above-normal range. He stuck his phone in his back pocket and pushed the study door all the way open. “Bryan. What the hell are you doing here?”
Bryan leapt back from the file cabinet and whirled around, his eyes wild. “Shit. You scared me.”
“I scared you?” Greg repeated, stepping into the room. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling. Then your phone was disconnected.”
Bryan laughed, but it wasn’t a joyful sound. It was high-pitched and tinny, almost maniacal. “Yeah. Phone companies.”
A response that explained nothing. Greg took another step into the room, surveying his brother’s appearance. His brown hair fell to his shoulders, unkempt and seemingly unwashed. A week’s worth of stubble shadowed his jaw and his clothes—jeans and a button-down black shirt—were wrinkled. Bryan had always preferred the casual look, but he put it together with attention to detail to make it look like he’d simply thrown clothes on his body. Tonight that didn’t look affected.
And his eyes…his eyes were two dark points of desperation in a face that seemed to have aged years in the last few weeks.
“Bryan,” Greg said carefully. “Why are you looking through my file cabinets?”