I look at him pumping above me and can’t believe how incredibly lucky I am. I reach up and place my hand over his heart again so I can feel his heartbeat. His smooth skin feels like a furnace, and his pulse is more erratic but still steady and true. His gaze follows my hand and watches it for endless moments before he looks me in the eyes again and places his own hand over my heart.
I push back against him as he continues to make love to me, both of us with our hands over the other’s heart. Our heartbeats have synced up, and his thrusts match the steady thumping as well. We keep our eyes locked on each other, and the air between us hangs heavily with unspoken words.
I love you, I love you, I love you, my heart calls out to his.
Lawson starts to speed up his pace and, on a particularly heavy thrust, he grits out, “I’m yours.” He punctuates his words with a rapid tapping against my clit and, after a few more heavy thrusts, we reach the pinnacle of our release at the same time.
My back arches at the sweet release, and Lawson continues to thrust, gentling his strokes as my pussy milks him for all he’s worth.
“Wow,” I say.
He chuckles from above me as he pulls out. “I know.”
He starts to move away, but I stop him. I push him down with what little strength I have left and rest my head on his chest as I trace his strong muscles with lazy kisses and fingers.
“I’ve never come at the same time as anyone,” I muse, wonder clear in my tone.
“Me either. You know why that is, right?”
“Why?” I ask on a yawn, the intense orgasms catching up and making me sleepy.
“Because,” he leans down to place a kiss on the top of my head, “we’re a perfect match.”
My face breaks out in a smile at his words as I start to succumb to sleep.
“Lawson?” I ask drowsily.
“Yeah, darlin’?” His voice sounds far off and groggy as well, though not nearly as bad.
Darkness is creeping into my vision and the walls around my heart are falling faster than my eyelids. My words come out whisper-soft and feather against his chest. “I love you.”
25
Lawson
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore. Last night I made love to Mac—a first for me—right before she passed out and whispered the three little words that shredded up my insides with more feelings than I know what to do with. I’m not even sure if she remembers saying them, but her words dragged me out of my post-sex lethargy real quick. I lay there for at least an hour, staring at the ceiling as she slept peacefully against my chest. She ended up staying the night, and in the morning I couldn’t hold a decent conversation so I fucked her roughly in the shower, as if I could simultaneously fuck and wash away her tender words.
I just got back from dropping her off. Although she didn’t say the words again, I can’t get the vision of her sweet, trusting smile and eyes filled with affection out of my head. Right as she kissed me goodbye, she said she had something important to tell me later. She sounded so hopeful and excited. I’m pretty sure she wants to tell me how she feels, and I’m not sure I can handle hearing the words again. I’m not sure what I’ll do if she says them when she’s completely lucid, so I told her I had plans. It’s not that I don’t care for Mac. I do, way more than I’ve cared for anyone before. When I’m not near her, I feel anxious anticipation that’s only soothed when I see her again. She’s my best friend’s little sister and I know her family, so that’s gotta explain my stronger than normal feelings for her. That and the fact she’s the first woman I’ve fucked repeatedly. That must be it.
I don’t know why I got all emotional and shit last night. I basically told her I was making love to her, but I need to stop whatever this is. I’m not looking for anything and don’t want to be tied down, and I definitely don’t want to lead her on. I’m happy being single...right? Right. Sure, I’m gonna miss her; that wasn’t a lie. I’m sure I’ll get over it when I bury myself in someone new. My body immediately reacts, and I try to ignore the churning and self-disgust in my gut at this thought and brush it away before I can dwell on it further.
I’m going to need to find a way to end things as cleanly as possible. I don’t want to hurt her, but I’m not sure how to reconcile everything I thought before summer with the turmoil going on inside my head now. You’re a cowardly, lying piece of shit, my conscience whispers. I ignore that nagging voice and push it away. I’m not prepared for the unknown and need to go back to something familiar.
As I pull back up to my apartment my phone rings, and when I see the name on the screen I see my way to get things resolved. It isn’t my smartest idea, but it’s all I’ve got right now.
“Hello? This is Lawson,” I answer the call. I listen for a few seconds and steel my resolve. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right there. See you soon.”
I hang up and head into my apartment to prepare for what I need to do. I’m in and out quickly, eager to escape the memories of last night that plague me. I ignore my rebellious heart as I drive away and crank the music to drown out my thoughts. This may not be the best way, but I know it’ll work. God forgive me. Mac...please forgive me.
I walk with an extra bounce in my step as I think about all that’s in store for me. I feel weightless and heady with the relief of finally making a decision and putting my fate in my own hands. I’m staying in Starwood, and nothing is going to change my mind. I grin at the thought and feel an extra surge of happiness when I think about Lawson. I’m doing this all for me, and I’m excited to tell him I plan on moving back here. When he dropped me off I told him I had something to tell him later, and I can’t wait to tell him I’m not moving. I want to shout the words from every rooftop here. I’m not going to lie, my stomach flutters with nerves at how he’ll react, but after last night I can only hope he’ll respond positively.
I’m on the back porch at my parents’ home and am putting together mini jugs of cider for the next farmers' market. I am equal parts elated and relieved that I didn’t botch the cider and that it turned out sweet, its rich taste a delight on the taste buds. I’m hoping these little jugs of deliciousness will get the word out about the cider and will help drive business in a couple weeks. I’ve set the grand reopening of the barn for a little over two weeks from now so I can work on getting my life in order and so that I can ready the next few batches of cider. I look out the window and see the trees off in the distance, weeping under the weight of the ripe fruit hanging from their branches. Apple season runs through the end of October and, judging from the sheer volume of apples and cider I’ll be making, there’ll be enough cider to store for winter. My heart races in excitement and swells with joy at the thought of this next chapter in my life. It feels so incredible to be happy.
Just as I’m putting on the last of the Shady Layne Orchard labels on the jugs, my phone rings. I look down and see that it’s Langley.
“Hey girlie,” I answer. “How’s it goin’?”
“Great! How’re you, sugar? You busy?” She sounds breathless on the other end of the line.
“Not really. I just finished packaging some cider for the next farmers' market. Why, what’s up?”
“I need a huge favor, please. I’ll make it worth your while,” she cajoles.
“That statement right there worries me,” I laugh.
“It’ll be okay! I need two things actually but was thinkin’ we could knock out two birds with one stone. I need help takin’ all these pies to the charity auction, and I need a date for tonight. Would you be able to help out and go with me, please? After we get done delivering the pies it should be a good time.”
I think for a second before giving in. I had asked Lawson if he had plans for later when he dropped me off and he said he’d be busy but that he’d see me soon.
“Of course! I don’t have any plans for tonight. When do you need me?”
“In about an hour. Will that work? I can drive tonight, but if you’d like you can come get r
eady over at my place.”
At the mention of getting ready a thought hits me. “Oh God, Langley. What’s the dress code for this thing?”
“Formal. Why?”
“You’ve seen my closet,” I laugh. “I have nothing to wear and an hour isn’t enough time for me to shower and go shopping for a new dress.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “I’ll have a dress for you.”
I’m skeptical because we aren’t the same height, and she’s curvier than I am. “You sure?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve got a dress that’ll look great on you. I got it when I was a cup size smaller,” she admits. “I wish it still fit me, but you can have it as a thank you for helping me and going as my date last minute.”
“Langley, that’s so generous of you. Thank you!”
“No problem. I’m hangin’ up now. I still have to get these damn pies packaged. I’ll see you in an hour and we’ll glam up before leaving. See you soon, sugar!”
“Sounds good. See you soon,” I reply right before she ends the phone call.
I quickly put the cider away and run upstairs to get ready. I catch my reflection in the mirror right before I step in the shower and hope Langley can work her magic.
Two hours later, I’m standing in Langley’s bathroom and am marveling at my transformation. I’ve gotta give it to her, she’s got some serious talent. As soon as I got to her place she yanked me inside and, after we transported the pies to the car, she set to work. I rotate on my heels and check out my reflection. I’m decked out in a beautiful, seafoam-colored cocktail dress that brings out the bluish-green hues in my hazel eyes. It’s elegant and classy, the fit hugging me in all the right places. It turns out Langley and I have the same shoe size, so she also outfitted me in a pair of nude pumps. When combined with the hem of the dress, which hits me just above my knees, they make my legs look extra long. My hair is in loose curls that are clipped over one shoulder, and my makeup is fresh and flawless. I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I look amazing.
“I was going to decline accepting this dress from you, but I think that polite gesture went out the window,” I admit. “I love this dress, Langley.”
“Ha,” she laughs. “Screw being polite. Keep it, please. I can’t squeeze into it anyway, and it’s too gorgeous to stay in my closet untouched. I have another dress in the same color since I love it so much, so I’m good. Besides, I’m sure it looks better on you than it would have on me. You look gorgeous, Mac.”
“Thank you,” I smile. “You look gorgeous as well.”
And she does. She’s in a cocktail dress as well, but this one is the color of rich, ripe plums. The bold color makes her look extra exotic and her lush, black hair falls in a long sheet down her back.
“Thanks, sugar.” She winks at me as she swipes on one last coat of gloss on her lips. “Let’s get goin’! I have the hottest date tonight and can’t wait to show you off!”
We strut out to the car and she drives us to the venue, which is an upscale hotel that was recently built. As we pull up, I look down at my feet and back to the pies that are in the back seat.
“Langley?” I question.
“Yes, Mac?”
“Do you have an extra pair of flats? I don’t want to fall on my face getting the pies inside.”
“Oh, Mac,” she laughs. “Don’t worry. We won’t be taking the pies inside. Our job is to get them here. I was told by the coordinator to give my name to the valet and they’d have some of the event workers come out and grab them. Our job now is to have fun,” she ends with a smile.
She pulls up to the entrance and speaks to the valet and, sure enough, a few men show up a few moments later to grab the pies and take them inside. As they grab them, they shoot us interested, sidelong glances. It’s obvious they’re checking us out. I’m not interested in them, but it’s always nice to be noticed.
We make our way inside arm in arm and wave hello to people we know. We’re greeted by the event coordinator, who thanks us warmly for the pies and for coming before telling us to have a fabulous evening. As we enter the main event space, which is in a huge auditorium, I gasp. The space is decked out beautifully, and the chandeliers glittering above add a little extra pizzazz to the event. I look around at the tall centerpieces made of fresh flowers and feel my blood start to pump at the lively music being played. I’m turning back to look at Langley so I can thank her for bringing me when my eyes land on something that makes my blood run cold.
Off to my right, standing among a small circle of people, is Lawson. He looks delectable in a tuxedo the color of midnight and an emerald green bow tie that matches his eyes perfectly, making them pop more than usual. His hair is combed to the side and his scruff lends him a mysterious, extra sexy edge. However, it’s not just the fact that he’s here that’s shocked me. I shift my eyes slightly to his right and there, plastered against him like a second skin, is Della Du Bois. Della fucking Du Bois. Her bottle blonde hair is pulled back in an elegant updo, and she’s wearing a garish dress the color of burnt oranges. A small part of me feels sick satisfaction that she’s not wearing green like Lawson is but another, much larger part of me, is seething with jealousy and confusion. I wouldn’t think they were together, but the way she’s all over him and the self-satisfied smile and possessive hand hooked around his bicep have me bristling. He’s at a very public event, in our town, with a woman who is clearly his date. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I want to rip her hands off of him and slap him across the face. Again.
I don’t realize I’ve stopped in my tracks until Langley turns back to me.
“Mac?” she asks, confusion clear in her voice. She follows my gaze, and once her eyes land on Lawson she cusses under her breath. “Holy fuck, what’s he doing here? And what the hell is he doing here with her?” she says with disdain.
It’s as if he can feel the intense scrutiny of our stares because at that moment, Lawson turns and looks at both of us. His eyes are unreadable, but they stay locked on mine. I feel like I could tug on the connection between us and draw him to where we’re standing, but he stays still before moving his gaze away from me dismissively.
I’m not sure what’s happening, but I’m going to find out and try to ignore the rapid fracturing of my heart in my chest.
26
If it weren’t for Langley holding onto my arm, I would have marched right over to Lawson and demanded answers. With more muttered curses under her breath, she drags me toward our table. After pushing me down into my seat, she sits in the chair next to mine and scoots closer.
“My brother is a dumbass,” she says bluntly.
I can’t form a sentence at the moment, my mind still running a million miles a second as it tries to process what I just saw.
“Do you know why he’d be here with Della, of all people?”
I shake my head and search my brain for any reason, any at all, to explain why he’s here with someone else. I don’t even try to deny anything in front of Langley because she obviously knows there is something going on between us.
“I don’t know,” I finally manage to get out. “He’s been so adamant about not dating anyone in town. This goes against everything he’s told me. Things were so great last night, too. And this morning. I’m not sure what’s happening.”
I feel cold inside and am thankful that I’m managing to keep it together as well as I have been.
“What happened last night?”
“We made love,” I say in a hushed voice. “I’m sorry in advance for any oversharing on my part. He initiated it, too. He kept telling me he’d miss me. I thought…” I pause, embarrassed at my next words. “I thought we had reached a turning point. He made me feel cared about. Now...I don’t know. He won’t even take me on dates in town because he doesn’t want people seeing. I don’t know why he’s suddenly on a public date with someone else, especially after last night. Now I just feel...dirty.” I can feel my eyes start to shine with unshed tears, so I look up at
the ceiling and try to will them away.
“Don’t let him get to you,” Langley urges as she reaches out to rub a hand up and down my arm. “I know he cares about you, Mac. There’s got to be an explanation. My guess is he’s probably freaking out right now cause he’s a guy and doesn’t know how to handle feelings. I know my brother better than anyone, and I’ve seen how he looks at you. He’s never been happier and he never, ever brings anyone home.”
“He didn’t bring me home, Langley. Your parents invited me,” I say miserably.
“You know what I mean. He would never have acted the way he did last night in front of my parents if he wasn’t serious about you.”
I find it hard to believe in her words because I can’t scrub the thought of Della on his arm out of my mind.
“I don’t know, Langley. Being here with her at this event makes its own kind of statement.”
“We’ll get you answers, don’t you worry. Just try and have a good time, sugar. And whatever you do, ignore him. Don’t let him see that he’s gotten to you. We’re gonna focus on us tonight and show him what he’s missing. If I know my brother—and I do—he won’t be able to stay away for long.”
I smile half-heartedly at her enthusiasm and attempt to cheer me up. I try to follow her advice and ignore Lawson, but I can feel his presence in the room, calling me to him. A few minutes later, we are approached by two handsome men who ask us if we’d like to dance. Before I can decline, Langley accepts for both of us. I try and shoot her a subtle glare, and she just smiles in return as she’s led away to the dance floor.
“I’m Deacon,” the man left standing in front of me introduces himself. “If you’d prefer, we can stay here at the table while our friends dance.”
Sin and Cider (Sweet Sinners Book 1) Page 20