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Between Him and Us

Page 10

by Nicole Richard


  I admired the man standing before me. His thighs were strong and muscular, but not bulky, his stomach tone and his chest solid. The perfect kind of handsome, and I was dying to touch him, to feel him above me while I writhed below.

  “Easton,” I called to him again, hoping he wasn’t having second thoughts.

  Restraint swirled in his eyes, but it slowly wavered. If I was lucky, he would do me the honor and make love to me—conscience be damned. I needed Easton to make me feel like a desirable woman. Thanks to those few glasses of wine, I felt liberated.

  I sat up straight and hooked my fingers into the waistband of his jeans, letting them linger for just a second before I pulled the button open. It was all the invitation he needed, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away as he freed himself of the last of his clothing. My hands slid around the backs of his thighs, drawing him in closer. I licked my lips and raked my nails along his hot skin before wrapping them around his cock. His eyes met mine, and a fire burned in the depths as I slowly teased him with each stroke. Up and down, working him over, admiring just how gorgeous he really was.

  “Fuck, Lilly . . .”

  “Yes,” I purred and licked the tip. Sucking on the head, I glanced up and smiled when his jaw clenched and his eyes squeezed tight. Tangling his fingers in my hair, he pulled me closer, deeper, until he was buried deep, hitting the back of my throat.

  “Lilly.” He groaned. “Please move . . . please . . . ah, fuck.” His breaths came in short, hard pants, and I smiled again. I couldn’t help it. I was enjoying it a little too much, having power over his pleasure.

  “Hmmm.” I hummed and sucked, hollowing my cheeks, sucking hard as my hands roamed his backside. A string of cuss words rolled off his tongue before he pulled himself from my mouth.

  I shivered when his eyes darkened, and he lowered himself so he was braced over me. He brushed the pad of his thumb across the top of my cheekbone then my bottom lip. “God, you’re beautiful.” His eyes were full of heat, but his expression was soft.

  Nestling himself between my thighs, he leaned forward until he had me lying flat on my back. From his position, mixed with the moonlight filtering in from the open shades, he looked like an angel. My beautiful man sent to rescue me from my own hell and personal destruction.

  The mattress dipped at the side of my head as his free hand skimmed the length of my thigh from hip to knee before pulling my leg up, silently pleading for me to give him the go ahead.

  My mouth watered, and I found it hard to swallow. From the way his eyes grew a shade darker, I knew his control had just about depleted. Trembling in response, I wrapped one hand around his neck and brought his mouth closer, wanting his lips on mine.

  “Lilly,” he breathed into the kiss, and I took more, needing more, needing all of him. I moaned in response and he slid his cock through my wet folds, teasing me, working me up in hopes that he would bring me back down with an earth shattering orgasm.

  Desperate and done with the teasing, I reached for his hips, pulling him into me. The intrusion had me gasping for air. Breaking our kiss, I clawed and caressed his neck, sucking on the soft and salty skin before nibbling my way to the tattoo on his chest.

  The slow burn Easton had ignited earlier with only his words had elevated into a full raging fire, filtering heat through every crevice. My pussy clenched, and with each slow thrust of his hips, a hard wave of lust rolled through me.

  There was no way I could control myself.

  “Easton.” I dug my heels into the mattress.

  “Fuck, Sunshine.” His thrusts were hard and smooth and slow, and a small piece of me hated that he was treating me as if I were fragile.

  Dammit, I needed this. I huffed out my irritation, and he picked up the pace, but not by much.

  “Easton, I’m not made of glass.”

  I lay my cheek to the mattress and pulled his thumb into my mouth, sucking and twirling my tongue around his rough skin. I curled my fingers around his ass, pulling him harder into me and causing my back to bow off the bed.

  “Lilly, fuck!” He panted, dropping his head in the crook of my neck. “What are you doing?” He slid both hands under my ass and mumbled, “Oh, fuck,” as he slid in and out of me in pleasure-inducing hard thrusts. The coiling sensation gained strength, and my clit pulsated. I clawed at his back and shifted just an inch, screaming out as the waves of pleasure took over my entire being. My body quaked, my hips bucked, and I chased every last bit of our sinful indulgence.

  He continued to pump in and out of me with deep grunts rumbling from his chest, finally finding his release as I was still riding mine.

  Easton lay above me, running his hand over my face and my hair, pressing warm kisses on my hot skin. As our heart rates started to settle, he shifted to lie beside me, slick with sweat, resting his arm across my belly. I kept my eyes closed and concentrated on the different emotions and feelings coursing through me as he rubbed soft circles into my sweaty skin. I thought about how good it felt and how much I was desired. And that is when the reality of what I had just done struck.

  We found a comfortable position with my back to Easton’s chest, and he covered us with the thin blanket. He held me tightly in his arms, pressing feather-light kisses against my shoulder and the back of my head. No matter how content I felt in his arms or how hard I tried, I couldn’t find sleep.

  My ever-loving guilt set it, chastising me for having sex with a man other than my husband. No, Tyler was no longer living, but I never thought I would actually move on—even if it were his final wish.

  I listened and waited for what seemed like hours before Easton’s breathing evened out. When I felt it was safe enough to make an exit, I carefully extracted myself from his hold, peeked over my shoulder, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  I stood from the bed and searched for my clothes.

  With my jeans, bra, and panty in hand, I tiptoed to the living room where I grabbed my shirt from the sofa and quickly got dressed.

  The clock on the stove warned me it was close to two in the morning, so I swiped my purse from the counter and quietly let myself out.

  My heart squeezed, already missing Easton, but I had to leave. The wine had given me the courage to act on impulse, and without that courage, I was going to reap what I sowed.

  When I got to the front of the flower shop, I stopped. I had no idea how to disarm the alarm and even if I did sneak out, who would lock the door behind me? I had no clue if there was another way out. I stood there thinking about the floor plan of Easton’s apartment and didn’t recall another exit. And I didn’t even have my car, not that it mattered, I’d just call Leeza to come and pick me up.

  “Fuck!” I grumbled, frustrated with myself for allowing things to get this far. We were supposed to be friends, not have sex. Although, it was really good sex. I had no idea what to do, so I turned around and walked back toward the stairs.

  My eyes slowly traveled upward, tamping down the urge to run back into the safety of Easton’s arms. Rather than giving in, I dropped myself on the bottom step, buried my head in my hands, and broke down, dissolving into a mess of tears. I cried for the man who vowed to love me for all eternity, but who was no longer in my life. Then for the man who was right in front of me, and judging by the last few hours, he wasn’t going to give up easily.

  “Why does this have to be so difficult?” I asked in a tiny voice, afraid of the answer miraculously materializing. “Do I really have to choose?” Then my breath caught in my throat and my body shook as I wished I wasn’t faced with such a tough decision to make.

  The sound of footsteps behind me had my skin prickling. Easton didn’t say a word as he descended the stairs, sat, and wrapped me in a protective blanket of arms and legs, lending the strength I so desperately needed in that moment. He was there in the flesh and could give me more than a memory ever could.

  I gripped his arms and cried some more, hating myself for doing this in front of him.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispere
d, sniffling. “I’m not sure what came over me.” Lie.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the back of my head, quietly holding me.

  “But—”

  “Lilly, I’m a patient man, who happens to be a realist. He was your husband. If you weren’t feeling like this, I’d have to question your loyalty. There is no reason for you to be apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Could this man be for real?

  “Thank you.”

  “Lilly?” The caution in his voice had me ready and wanting to run for the hills, but my knee-jerk reaction was quick lived when he squeezed a little tighter and muttered, “You got me so damn worked up, I didn’t think of using a condom. I’m never that careless . . . I’m sorry.”

  I sighed in relief. I shouldn’t have been relieved with what he just said, but I honestly didn’t think he would put my health at risk.

  “It’s fine. I’m on the shot, and I haven’t . . .”

  “Me, either. I mean, it’s been a while. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “I’m not.” I found it odd that a man as kind and gorgeous as him hadn’t been with a woman in some time, but I didn’t have the energy to question him or read more into it.

  We sat there in the quiet. By the time Easton scooped me up and into his arms and carried me back upstairs, I was too exhausted from crying to protest. I was also too tired to protest when he slipped my shirt and jeans back off, leaving me standing in nothing but my bra and panties.

  “I want to feel the warmth of your skin when I lie next to you.” He carefully laid me on his bed, slid in behind me, and tucked me close to his chest.

  Wrapped in the safety of his arms, my vulnerable self wanted him to hold and reassure me. Tell me he would never let me go.

  “I’ve never been with another man besides him.”

  A single tear slid down the side of my cheek, and I chewed at my bottom lip waiting for him to respond. When he didn’t, I glanced over my shoulder, only to find that his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful, and I waited for further indication that he had fallen back asleep. I snuggled into the crook of his arm and smiled sadly. Tyler should have been my forever, but I had this man who might want to step up to the plate.

  I couldn’t be sure, but just as I crested into sleep, I could have sworn I heard him whisper, “And now you’ll never be with another.”

  Soft music and warm sunlight filtered into the bedroom. I kept my eyes shut while my mind did a recap of last night. In spite of wanting to appreciate all that happened—the wine, the easy conversation, the dancing—I struggled with it.

  Easton did everything right in making me feel like the desired woman I had wanted to be, but it didn’t matter, the urgency to flee still came at me full force.

  Lying there, I tried talking myself off the ledge and pulled the sheet to my chest. Then I smiled at how deliciously sore my muscles were. But as I put more thought into it, I couldn’t quite decide how I felt about the bigger picture, or the hard truth that I had slept with another man.

  “Lord, please have mercy on my heart.” I stared at the ceiling. “You said I should move on,” I quietly argued, thinking about Tyler’s letter. In the light of day I let the guilt settle in—again.

  As hard as this was, Easton awakened something inside me. Convincing me he was real and tangible and would be a good place to land if I needed somewhere to fall.

  After last night and how understanding he had been, I decided I needed to try my best to see where this went. We might hit it off or we would take flight and crash and burn. If it was the latter, I wouldn’t be any worse off than when I started. Or at least, I hoped I wouldn’t be.

  I threw the sheet off and sat on the edge of the bed, my eyes searching the room for my clothes, aside from my bra and panties I had on, they were nowhere to be seen. Summoning the bold Lilly I had tucked away somewhere, I stood, held my chin high, and walked out of the room.

  Nearing the living room, I could hear the tension in Easton’s voice while he spoke to someone, who I assumed was on the phone. I slacked, giving him a minute, trying not to eavesdrop but that proved to be impossible.

  “I’m pretty sure you made up your mind when you said you weren’t leaving New York.” He huffed. “Look, it’s done—we’re done.” He waited a few seconds then hung up. I was a bit surprised by his brash tone. Easton had been nothing but kind to me, then again everyone had a boiling point.

  Seconds later, his phone rang and when he answered it, the smile was present in his voice. “What’s up, dude?” He paused, listening to the person on the other end of the line. “That’s cool, but it sounds tricky, not to mention crazy dangerous.” He paused again. “What does Dad have to say about it?” When he dropped into silence again, I took a step forward so I could see him. Easton stood in his kitchen, shirtless flaunting his hard chest and torso, his hair a sexy mess eliciting a heady feeling in me. His tattoos on full display were an added bonus.

  “Well, make sure you’re careful . . . yeah, I know you are . . . All right, you practice and I’ll see what I can do . . . tell Mom I said I love her and I’ll call soon . . . talk to you later, bye.” He hung up and then turned to me.

  “Good morning, Sunshine.” Easton’s eyes trailed the length of my body, and a slow, appreciative grin curled at the corner of his mouth. That smile could brighten any day, good or bad.

  “Good morning to you.” I pointed to his phone. “Your brother?” He nodded. “For some reason, I didn’t think you called your stepfather dad.”

  “I usually don’t, but when I do, it’s for Kipp’s benefit. I never liked saying your dad. It sounds too impersonal, and that was never a line I wanted separating me from my brother or sisters.”

  “He’s lucky—they’re all lucky to have you.” Easton nodded in thanks, and his smile grew wider as his eyes continued to take in my almost naked body.

  I wanted to laugh. He was trying to be so casual about it when his reaction was anything but. Feeling bold and sexy, I playfully sassed, “Care to tell me where my clothes might be?”

  “There’s a shirt right there you can use.” He gestured his chin toward the barstool where a T-shirt hung off the back. “Or you could stay like that. No complaints from me.” I nodded, taking his sexy smirk into consideration.

  I pushed off the wall and made my way toward him with thoughts of foregoing the shirt all together. Taunting him and parading around his home half-naked sounded like a better idea, but a strange bout of nerves had me deciding against it.

  I grabbed the shirt and pulled it over my head. Soon after the cotton touched my nose, I did a quick inhale of his lingering scent. There was something to be said about a man that smelled like musk and the clean scent of soap that made my insides rev to life. I moved around the island and into the kitchen to stand beside him.

  “What have you got here?” I asked and he pulled me in closer. Being cuddled in his strong arms caused my heart to balloon in my chest.

  “Breakfast, are you hungry?”

  “Um-hmm.” My mouth watered, appreciating him as he stood there in nothing but his boxers, and suddenly I felt overdressed. I placed my palms flat on his hard stomach, gliding them upward over his smooth chest and locking my fingers together at the base of his neck. Our eyes connected, and I held my gaze with his, smiling up at the gorgeous man in my arms.

  “Good morning, Sunshine,” he repeated softly before slowly leaning in and pressing his lips to mine. The faint taste of mint on his tongue mixed with the distinct taste of him was intoxicating. Our tongues swirled wildly, and I was beginning to love the contrast of hard and soft that Easton possessed. He knew how to push and when to pull, making me dizzy with an onslaught of emotions.

  When I was about to tip over the line of dragging him back to the bedroom, I pulled away and pressed my forehead to his, saying, “About last night . . .”

  Easton’s body tensed, and I felt the deep rise and fall of his chest.
r />   The tension expanded, creating a wedge in the tight space between us. He slid a finger under my chin and warned, “If you’re going to tell me you made a mistake—don’t.” He stared at me with hard-pressed eyes, no longer the warm color of honey, and my heart tumbled to the floor. “You cannot—” He swallowed hard. “For one second think what happened last night was a mistake.” I stood still, confused as heck as to the change in mood and conversation. “How? After everything—”

  I cut him off. “Excuse me?” I tried to step away, but he wouldn’t allow it. “Why would you say that?”

  “If you just heard yourself sounding like the bearer of bad news, you would probably be asking me the same thing.” The muscle in his neck twitched. He cocked his head to the side and challenged me with his eyes to tell him otherwise.

  “Easton.” I sighed. “I was trying to . . . what I want to say.” I swallowed a gulp of air. “Is that I like you,” I finally admitted sheepishly.

  His pursed lips gradually tilted upward. “Keep talking.” His left eyebrow rose playfully.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Sometimes, yes, but I’m quickly finding that it’s you who makes me all these different kinds of crazy.” He hoisted me by the waist and set me on the counter, coming to stand between my open thighs. I locked my legs around his firm butt, pulling him to me so he was pressed tightly against me.

  “Thank you for last night and for being patient with me.” I raked my fingers through his hair, getting lost in his warm eyes. He caressed my thighs as his hands inched higher, setting off the swarm of butterflies in my belly and my heart pitter-pattered.

  “Go on.” A mischievous smile crept over his perfect lips.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I like you a lot and was thinking, maybe we should give us a chance.” The words made it out of my mouth before I had a real chance to think about them and the what-ifs hit me. But it was the way his eyes brightened with excitement that I pushed away my unease.

  “Yeah?”

 

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