by Emma Roman
“I’m on the pill. It’s fine,” Laurel whispered, her tone dark and needy.
“Are you sure? I’m clean, I promise. I don’t sleep—”
“Yes. I’m sure.” She thrust her hips up, taking the first inch or so of him inside her.
She was so tight. God, it wasn’t enough. He needed all of her. Every sexy inch.
“More? I need you to tell me, Laurel.”
“Yes, please,” she murmured, burying her face in his arm and arching her body ever closer.
He didn’t hold back. Didn’t hesitate. He joined them together and found heaven on earth. She was everything he’d ever wanted. Brilliant. Kind. Beautiful. Her body fit to his. Every curve, every part of her made his soul complete as she took him all inside.
Mick threaded the fingers of his right hand with her left and pressed it down flat against the mattress. Her fingers curled over his hand, nails digging into his flesh as she got closer and closer. The tension in her core threatened to send him careening over the edge already. But, he pushed deeper. Harder. His only goal to get her to that place where the world fell away. Where trouble didn’t exist. No worries. No pain. Only pleasure.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Look at me.”
“Mick.” She was breathless. Then she imploded, a soundless scream parted her lips and he drove home again. He claimed her mouth again, growling as he joined her on the journey to bliss.
She was an amazing gift. One he would treasure every second of every day.
12
The annoying buzz of his phone roused Mick from one of the best nights of sleep he’d had in years. He slid his arm out from under Laurel’s naked body and rolled toward the edge of the bed to peer at the screen. Chuck Rieves. Strange. He slid out of the bed, trying not to wake Laurel and hissed when his feet hit the cold wood floor slats. He yanked on his boxers and grabbed the phone. “Something wrong, man?” he growled in a low voice as he exited Laurel’s bedroom.
“Yeah, that lady you called us to help move her stuff…Laurel.”
“What is it?” Mick’s chest tightened, worry settling it’s claws into his lungs.
“Linda just got a hit on—” His friend’s hesitation only made Mick’s imagination run wilder.
“Spit it out man.”
“A sex tape.”
What? “What do you mean?”
“Like a home movie. It’s really ugly, man. It’s not a constant video. And it’s been edited to look bad.”
“You watched it?” Anger surged, spreading through his body like a river of fire.
“Piper got the story from the paper. Her boss told her to write a piece for the front page. When she realized it was your Laurel she told me to call. She wanted you to know what was happening, in case you could give Laurel some type of warning or heads up.” Chuck’s tone dipped, sincerity and pity thick with each spoken word. “This is gonna be nasty Mick. Piper says it’s already all over social media and some of the big Dallas buzz feeds are picking it up too. I’m sorry.”
“Your wife can’t write about Laurel in the paper. Can’t Piper refuse the story? What kind of asshole does something like this?” Laurel didn’t deserve this. No one did. Her ex must be a real piece of work. His brain raced, working through scenarios where Laurel didn’t leave town and disappear from his life.
“Mick?” Laurel’s voice carried through the doorway from the bedroom.
“Coming,” he answered back, without thinking.
“You’re with her?” Chuck’s tone shot up a notch. “I thought you had some date with a fancy chick from Dallas last night.”
Good God. Nothing in this town is a secret. “How the hell, man?”
“I’m married to a gossip columnist. I know way more about the people in this town than I care too. Plus Edie saw you in the Boiler Room.”
“I’ll talk to you later. You tell your wife to hold off on writing anything. I got a better story for her and I’d rather her out me than make things worse for Laurel.” Mick ran his hands through his hair and sighed.
“Out you for what?”
“Just tell her to wait.”
“I’ll try. But she’s got to put something up by tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll call her later today. And thanks for the heads up.”
“No problem. Sorry, man.”
“I don’t think sorry is going to cover the fallout on this.” He tapped the red button on his phone screen and groaned inwardly. How the hell was he supposed to tell—
“He released the tape didn’t he.” Laurel’s head poked around the doorframe into the hallway. Her hair was tousled and she looked adorable…until he met her gaze. She knew?
“Laurel, I—” There were no words. He stepped forward and pulled her close. Her tears wet his chest, but she didn’t come apart. She didn’t scream or rant or run. At least not yet. “I’m trying to get Piper to stall the story. I’m going to let her interview me about winning the contest and everything. It might be enough to at least keep your name out of the local paper.”
“You’d do that for me?” She looked up at him and smiled a sad beaten smile that made Mick want to drive up to Dallas and punch the ever-living shit out of whatever the hell her ex’s name was. “You know it’ll only delay it. Then your secret will be out. You’ve tried so hard to keep that part of your life private.”
“It doesn’t matter. Today. Tomorrow. It was foolish of me to hide it at all. I see that now. But, tell me…I don’t understand why your ex would do this—”
“I’d hoped Lance wouldn’t sink to this level, but he’s angry.” The words hiccupped out of her between soft sobs, each one yanking on Mick’s sense of honor.
Why would a man hurt a woman he’d once claimed to love? This guy had been married to Laurel. She wasn’t spiteful or cruel. Everything he’d witnessed in the short time Mick had known her shouted the exact opposite. “What could he possibly be angry at you for? Wasn’t he the one that—” He still couldn’t believe that a man would be stupid enough to let a woman like Laurel slip through his fingers.
Lucky for him the bastard had, or he wouldn’t have met Laurel at all. He wouldn’t have just had the best sex of his life. Or be contemplating the best way to convince her to stay in bed with him the entire day to forget the nastiness the outside world could conjure.
“Why, Laurel? Do you know?”
“I won’t give him the password to some client files. It was petty and I wanted him to sweat. I should’ve known better. It doesn’t matter. It’s out and I’ll let the chips fall where they will.” Laurel stepped back and tugged Mick’s hand. “Come back and hold me for a few minutes, please. Unless you have to leave—”
His heart twisted in his chest. So brave and strong. Faced with humiliation and the aftermath that would follow, she merely sought comfort in his arms. That he could do. Refusing her would be impossible. Hell, he’d take the rest of the weekend off if she asked. Probably still would even if she didn’t.
Mick followed Laurel back into the bedroom and climbed into bed next to her, pulling her tight to his body. Her curves. Damn. She felt so perfect against him. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.
“That I can’t get rid of this for you.”
She nuzzled her face deeper and the flutter of her eyelashes against his chest made him smile. Her lips pressed a soft kiss to his skin and blood rushed south. “You not freaking out is more than I could ask for. Most guys would’ve joined the shaming-name-calling crowd. You convinced a reporter not to print a story. I’m still not sure how that happened.”
“She owes me. I introduced her to her husband.”
Laurel chuckled, the laughter releasing some of the tension from her stiff body. “Well well. I’ve got some competition in town after all, Mr. Matchmaker.”
“I’m pretty sure all my friends are married now. So Mr. Matchmaker is officially out of business.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Laurel’s head and inhaled the sw
eet floral scent of her silky hair. “Why don’t I run into town and get us some breakfast? Possibly move down the way to my house where the heater works better and there are blankets.”
“You don’t want to turn blue with me any more?”
“I’d much rather see a nice pink covering you from head to foot,” he answered, sliding a hand down to cup her ass. “Or a Valentine red. But honestly, I’m starving. I didn’t eat anything at the restaurant before coming here last night.”
“I don’t have much in the pantry.”
“Other than the bottles of wine and some crackers…yeah, I noticed.” Mick gripped her chin and lifted it gently until he could kiss her. “Give me an hour or so,” he said, stealing a quick kiss. She was so soft against his mouth. Tasted so good. He wanted to have her all over again. Mick slipped a hand along the curve of her waist and pressed his fingertips into the meat of her ass.
She laughed and rolled out of his grip. “Alright. Go hunt us some breakfast. I’ll be ready to switch beds when you get back.” Laurel wrapped herself in the sheet covering her bed and motioned with her hands for him to vacate the mattress. “If you don’t go now, you won’t leave ever. And now that you’ve mentioned food, I’m starving too.”
“Fine.” He chuckled and slipped out of the bed on the opposite side. He gave her a wink after pulling on the rest of his clothes and then made his way downstairs and out the front door. There would never be such a thing as enough of Laurel Hart. She deserved the world. At least as much as he could give her.
First he could start with delivering a first-class Valentine’s Day she’d never forget. Then he could begin the process of claiming her so completely she couldn’t remember her life without him in it.
A car door slamming closed outside roused Laurel. She grabbed her phone from the side table where it lay and tapped the home button. The clock lit up. Three hours! She’d slept for three more hours after Mick left? Guess breakfast had taken longer to prepare than he’d guessed. She hopped out of bed and tiptoed over to the window looking out to her front yard. Sure enough, his big truck was in the drive.
He got out and looked up at her with that adorable grin and her insides melted.
She yanked on some sweats and twisted her hair up into a loose bun before hurrying down the stairs to the door. Her body was so relaxed she nearly lost her footing twice. That man sure knew how to make a girl feel satisfied and hungry for more all at the same time.
Her front door swung open, revealing Mick in a royal blue flannel shirt, worn jeans, boots—he had to have gone home at some point and changed—and a single crimson rose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. In the midst of everything, she completely forgotten it was Valentine’s today. She gave him a wide smile and shook her head in disbelief as she took the offered rose. And he’d called her—sweetheart?
His endearment rattled loose more of the fortress she’d erected around her heart. She’d set him up with Felicity, tried so hard to “make a go of her new business” that she’d ignored every signal her body had been screaming. Broke the cardinal rule of being a matchmaker—falling for her client. But if she was truly honest with herself, he’d fallen for her well before she’d decided to match him up with someone else.
It’d been a losing battle from the start.
One she should’ve given into a lot sooner.
It would’ve at least prevented the heartbreak over wondering whether Mick had like Felicity or not. Of course, she knew now how ridiculous that match had been. If she hadn’t been so keen on him being her first client…everything would’ve gone so much smoother these past couple of days.
He curled one arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest and kissed the top of her head. “Please don’t cry. I have all these plans for you today and none of them include tears.” He nuzzled his bearded cheek against hers and nipped at her lips until she opened her mouth, allowing him to sweep his tongue through her mouth.
She threw her arms around his neck and crushed herself against his body. They melded and moaned and became a cohesive entity, moving in sync. His arms circled her body, lifting her by the ass and grinding her down against the hard length filling out his jeans. Her body ached with unsatisfied want.
Laurel wrapped her legs around his waist, freeing up Mick’s hands which went directly to the back of her head where he untied the bun holding her hair in place. He cupped the back of her head, angling more and more, deepening his kiss. Claiming more of her.
“Not. Making. It. Out,” she panted against his mouth.
He groaned, pinning her against the foyer wall. “Nope.” Mick unfastened her jeans and pushed on her legs until she released his hips. His mouth traveled down as he bent, pushing the waistband south. Down her neck. To her collarbone. He latched onto one of her pebbled nipples through the fabric of her shirt before continuing his journey. His teeth nibbled at her flesh, not caring that he had shirt fabric in his mouth. Tingles of pleasure shot through her body with each scrape and tug.
Then he was kneeling on the floor in front of her. Her pants. Her panties. Both on the ground and his face mere inches from her bare mound.
“God, you smell like heaven, Laurel.”
She looked down into his heated expression and trembled, waiting for him to move again. Would he stand? Would he stay where he was? What was next? The twinkle in his eye said she wasn’t going to remain in wonder very long. His hot breath caressed her slick folds and she leaned against the wall, letting it support her wobbling body. She was so close. One well-placed touch would probably send her spiraling into bliss.
His tongue swept along her slit, moving slowly up toward the throbbing bundle of nerves begging to be stroked. “Please, Mick. Please.” A shudder slid from her chest and she threaded her fingers through his hair, gripping it desperately as her climax swelled inside. His lips closed around her and the gentle suction set her off. Her hips bucked against his mouth and a scream tore from her lips. And he just kept going, ringing every wave, every pulse from her body until she was no more than a limp rag, holding herself upright by sheer force of will.
13
Mick glanced over to the passenger seat of his truck where Laurel sat curled against the window, staring out into the threadbare branches of the neighborhood oak trees. He could still smell her arousal. Still taste her on his lips. It’d taken every shred of willpower to pull her pants back on her and carry her moaning-post-orgasmic body out to his truck. All he wanted to do was drown himself in her. Forget what Linda had shown him online. He’d protected Laurel in Somewhere, at least for now. He couldn’t block the internet, but Linda had promised it wouldn’t be written in the paper.
It’d been the least he could do and he’d have done more if he could. But short of driving to Dallas, finding her scum ball of an ex and beating the ever-living shit out of him until he agreed to a public apology, Mick was at an impasse. And he knew the last thing Laurel would want was more contact with whatever-the-fuck the douchebag’s name was.
Forward. Look forward. Forward to having her in his bed. To being inside her again. To being with her each and every free moment of the rest of his life.
Holy shit.
The rest of his life.
Was he caught up in the moment? Or was he really considering—after such a short time—that she was it?
He pulled into his drive and parked close to the porch steps. His home was similar to the one Laurel had purchased. A little bigger. More updated—mostly because he’d updated it slowly over years of living there.
“Your house looks like what mine dreams of being,” she said, a smile brightening her tone from the sexy rasp it had been only a few minutes previous.
He chuckled. “It used to look like that too. Just had a bit more work and a few more coats of paint applied.”
“You expecting other company?” Laurel nodded toward the rearview mirror. A maroon sedan pulled into the driveway behind him and a man in a
slick gray suit popped out of the driver’s seat with a large manila envelope.
Mick shook his head. “Not that I know of. Stay in the truck. I’ll be right back.” He got out and headed for the stranger, his steps as hard as the line his mouth formed. “Why are you on my property?”
“I’m trying to find Ms. Hart. She’s with you, yes?” The greasy black-haired guy in a suit that probably cost more than Mick made in a month craned his neck to try and look at his truck.
Mick shrugged. “Nobody’s here unless you tell me who you are in the next three seconds. Right now I’m gonna walk back to my truck, pull the shotgun out of the back seat, and let your car have it before I aim it at your head.”
“Winston. Winston Gritton from Hale & Marks in Dallas. We’ve been informed that Ms. Hart has broken her non-compete. This is a court order dictating that any matchmaking business she’s opened in Somewhere Texas is hereby shut down. Non-compliance will result in an immediate lawsuit and hundreds of thousands of dollars I’m sure she can’t afford.”
Fuck. He wasn’t going to be able to fix this for her either. “Laurel,” he called, raising his voice loud enough she’d hear it from inside the cab of the truck.
Her door opened and closed. A few moments later her warm body was leaning against his side. “What does Lance want now?” she bit out at the lawyer like a venomous snake. Mick couldn’t help but be proud. She was one tough little cookie. Still didn’t mean he’d have rather dealt with this mess for her.
“We were informed that you’ve broken your non-compete, Ms. Hart. The storefront you leased in town is within the two-hundred-mile limitation placed on your signed agreement with Mr. —”
She took a step forward and shook her head. “No, I checked before I leased. It was two hundred and three miles from Dallas. Wait…informed? Who informed you?”
The slimy bastard smirked, giving Mick a sick feeling in his stomach, and handed Laurel the envelope. “No, ma’am. It is only one hundred ninety-eight miles from Love Swept Matchmaker INC headquarters to the address listed for your Matched business storefront here in Somewhere. The sheriff has already been advised of the situation and legal action will be put into place if you do not comply with the shutdown. The informing party requested to remain anonymous.” The lawyer added the last sentence with a self-righteous sneer.