When Love Happens

by Darcy Burke

  Stop it.

  None of it mattered. They weren’t some star-crossed couple like they’d thought. Life had thrown enough crap at them to tell her that loud and clear.

  She dragged herself out of bed and paced until the coffee was ready. After half a cup, she felt considerably more human. Maybe she should go for a run. There was a great trail nearby. She walked out onto the back deck and looked up at the muted gray sky. A chill shook her shoulders, and she realized it was really cold—maybe even cold enough to snow. She went back inside and checked the weather on her phone. Yep, slight chance of snow. It looked and felt like more than a chance, but it was barely mid-October, for heaven’s sake.

  Resigned not to take a run, she went back inside and finished her coffee, then started up the shower in the single bathroom on the main floor. The pipes squealed as the hot water kicked on. Everything in this cabin was a good forty years old. It was past time to renovate. Maybe she’d do that for a fun distraction. She could even add on, since the property covered five acres.

  Her mind churning with ideas and much-appreciated excitement, she stepped out of the shower feeling better than she had in days. She dried and wrapped the towel around her midsection before stepping into the small hallway between the two bedrooms.

  The smile fell from her face as she realized Sean was standing in the center of the main living area, staring directly at her. Though she was practically naked, the heat that typically crept into his eyes after seeing her in such a state failed to appear. Tension spiked over her shoulders and twisted her insides.

  “What are you doing here?” She planned to kill her meddling family later.

  “I came to give you what you want. You can have your divorce. Do you want to file, or shall I?”

  Her head felt light and her knees weak as adrenalin rushed through her. Now he’d give her the divorce? “I see. Now that you have what you really wanted, I can have my divorce. How magnanimous of you.”

  He stalked toward her, his eyes dark and sad. “What I really wanted was you. I love you.”

  She began to shake but attributed it to standing in the cool hallway when she was only half dry and her hair was dripping wet. “You love me? You abandoned me when I needed you most. If that’s your brand of love, you can keep it.”

  She spun on her heel and went into the bedroom. Grabbing the door handle, she tried to swing the door closed, but his flat palm slapped against the wood and stopped it.

  His eyes were wide, incredulous. “I abandoned you?”

  The shaking worsened, and the ugly emotions she’d buried for so long reared up. They threatened to choke her as she realized why she’d shut herself down. It wasn’t because of Alex—not entirely. It was because Sean hadn’t been there for her in the months following his death. “Yeah, you abandoned me. My brother killed himself, and you took off to Europe for six months. That’s the very definition of abandonment.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  SEAN COULDN’T PROCESS what she’d said at first. He stood there, his palm still resting against the smooth pine, and simply stared at her. He’d abandoned her?

  His mind traced back over what had happened when Alex had died. That morning, she’d flown home. He’d offered to go with her, but she was too upset and said it obviously wasn’t the right time to spring her new, surprise husband on her grief-stricken family. He’d understood, and he hadn’t argued. That hadn’t meant he hadn’t wanted to be there for her. On the contrary, he’d texted her repeatedly to show his love and support. She rarely responded.

  He’d asked to attend the funeral—not to meet her family, but just to sit in the back and be there to support her. She’d vehemently declined and at that point had told him she had to focus on her family for a bit and to please give her some space.

  He dropped his hand from the door, letting it fall to his side, and took a deep breath to calm his anger and frustration. “I was there for you. How can you possibly think I abandoned you? You pushed me away. It took me weeks to even get you to respond to me in person.”

  She clutched the white towel around her middle. “You went halfway around the world. How is that not abandoning me?”

  “What was I supposed to do? Tell my boss, ‘No, I need to stay in LA on the off chance my estranged wife decides I can be with her?’ He would’ve fired me. Anyway, that doesn’t even matter, because when I told you about the job, you said, ‘That’s great, now I won’t feel guilty for keeping our marriage on the down-low a little longer.’” That sentence had been burned in his mind since March. Every time he thought he might be able to get her back to where they’d been, he remembered what she’d said and reminded himself that she was perfectly happy for him to be out of her hair.

  Anxious, angry lines creased her face. Her shoulders shook. He realized she was an emotional wreck and probably had been for months. She’d hid it very well. To him, she’d seemed an ice queen bent on keeping him as far away as possible. But now he saw that wasn’t the case. His frustration and hurt dissipated and were replaced with confusion and an overwhelming sense of loss.

  “Tori.” He took a tentative step into the bedroom, keeping his voice low and calm. “I wish you would’ve told me you wanted me to stay.”

  “You just said you couldn’t have anyway, so what would it have mattered?”

  “I would’ve known that your feelings hadn’t changed—have they?”

  She blinked at him, and her shaking increased. “They have now. I don’t want to be married to you. I don’t want all of this . . . turmoil.”

  He closed the distance between them and cupped the side of her face. “Don’t. Don’t push me away. It’s not going to work anymore. I’m on to you. Let it out. Please. You have so much inside of you that you’ve kept from everyone, from yourself, from me. I do love you. Let me help you.”

  She tried to pull back, but he clasped her arm and held her fast. He kept his grip light, but firm. He wasn’t letting her go. Not this time.

  She looked up at him, her eyes moist with anger and fear. “It’s so much easier if I pretend everything is just fine.” Her voice was scratchy, raw, and so low he might not have heard it if he hadn’t been hanging on her every word.

  “I know. And it’s not. But it will be.” He cupped her face again. “I’ll leave if you want me to, but I hope you don’t.”

  For a long agonizing moment, she stared up at him. He had no idea what she was going to do.

  Then her arms were around his neck, the towel fell between them, and she pressed her damp body against his. She kissed him, her head angling as she arched up and pulled his head down simultaneously. She nipped at his lower lip and thrust her tongue inside, claiming what she wanted, and thank God it was him.

  He cradled her neck gently, his thumbs caressing the underside of her jaw as he licked at her mouth and feasted on her heat and desire. Kissing her like this brought back every delicious moment they’d shared and made his heart soar with joy. He hadn’t known if he’d ever experience it again, and now, having her in his arms . . . It surpassed every fantasy he’d nurtured the past eight months.

  He slid his hands down her neck, over her collarbones, and lower until he grazed her breasts. He had to pull back to gain access, but the second his palms skimmed over her nipples, she gasped into his mouth and dug her fingers into the back of his neck.

  She felt so good in his hands—so familiar and yet so new. He cupped her, brushing the pads of his thumbs back and forth, teasing her nipples until they formed hard peaks.

  Little noises of urgency and lust spilled through their kiss. He was aware of her every touch and sound, of her scent and taste, of his escalating need.

  He shrugged his coat from his shoulders, and she helped him push it off. She whimpered as he took his hands from her. Desperate to feel her against him, he clasped her waist, pulling their chests and hips flush.

  He broke the kiss briefly. “Put your legs around me so I can take you to the bed.”

  She complied almost before
he’d finished talking and claimed his mouth once more. Was there anything better in this world than the Tori he remembered, the Tori he’d fallen in love with? If there was, he didn’t care, because for him, ecstasy ended and began right here.

  He opened one eye to gauge the distance to the bed. The room wasn’t large, so they reached it quickly, and he set her down next to it. She slipped her hands from his neck and unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands were quick, deft. She dragged her mouth from his and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss against his collarbone, sucking his flesh briefly before continuing her downward trajectory.

  Sean closed his eyes and focused on her mouth caressing him and the light strokes of her fingertips as she freed the last of the buttons on his shirt.

  “Not fair, you’re wearing a T-shirt under here,” she murmured.

  “Not for long.” He dropped his shoulders, and she stripped the button-down from him, letting it fall to the floor. He pulled the hem of his T-shirt up and hadn’t gotten it over his head before her hands and mouth were on his chest. Her palms splayed against his pecs while her tongue trailed down his sternum. He sucked in a breath as she tweaked his nipples and sucked on his flesh, using her teeth and tongue to drive him to the brink of sanity.

  She dropped onto the bed as her fingers flicked the button of his jeans open. Oh God, she wasn’t going to . . . She lowered the zipper and slipped her hands inside, moving to the outside of his hips and clasping him as her mouth worked its magic on his lower abdomen.

  She shucked his jeans down his thighs and didn’t seem to care if they stayed there as she transferred her attention to his boxer briefs. Tucking her fingertips inside the waistband, she pulled them down to where she’d abandoned his jeans. His cock sprang free, but she caught it with her mouth as her hand clasped the base. Blood and heat rushed to where she sucked.

  Eyes closed, he let his head fall back. There was nothing but darkness and Tori’s wet, hot mouth pleasuring him. She cupped his balls and held him firmly, her lips and tongue expertly coaxing his cock into a whirlwind of need and lust.

  She sucked him deep, his tip sliding against the back of her mouth, and he jerked as his orgasm threatened. Christ, he’d been too long without her . . .

  He brought his head up and opened his eyes. That nearly did him in—the vision of her long, damp hair caressing his thighs while she fucked him with her mouth. Her other hand dug into his hip, guiding him to thrust and retreat . . .

  “Tori,” he rasped. He pushed his hands into her hair and pulled her away before he spilled himself down her throat. “It’s been too long. If you don’t stop . . . ” Another rush of need pulsed through him. He gritted his teeth, unwilling to give in to his body’s demands.

  She leaned back and opened her eyes. She stared at him, her blue-green gaze clear with stark admiration as she perused his body.

  He kicked off his shoes and pushed his clothes down his legs, leaving them in a pile on the floor. She scooted back across the bed, her eyes slitting as she watched him.

  Stripping his socks off, he followed her, putting one knee on the mattress and then the other. He reached for her, clasping her waist and rotating her so they wouldn’t run out of bed—it was only a queen, and with that width, he’d fuck her right off the other side of the bed. He knew because he’d done it to her in Vegas that first night, when the hotel had screwed up and given them a double queen instead of the king he’d booked. “No matter,” she’d said, with the sexiest come-hither look. “More beds, more better.”

  He could still see her stretched over the side, her hair grazing the floor, her eyes closed as she cried out her release. Careful, Sean, or you are going to come right now.

  He forced himself to breathe, desperate to make this last.

  Tori slipped her legs around his waist and pulled him down on top of her. “Sean, I want you inside me.”

  They’d stopped using condoms after their second weekend together back in January. They were both clean, and she took contraceptive shots. He doubted she’d been sexually active since he’d seen her last. Just thinking she had put a wet blanket on his lust.

  She must’ve sensed it, because she laid her palm against his cheek. “What is it?”

  “I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

  “I know.” Her gaze was direct and pure. “I haven’t either. I still get shots. And anyway, I don’t have a condom, do you?”

  He shook his head. “This was the last thing I expected to happen today.”

  She winced. “Is it . . . okay?”

  “This is the most okay thing ever.” He kissed her quick and hard, drawing on her lower lip with his teeth. His cock surged between her legs, seeking her heat. “Which is why I want it to last. Tell me, Tori, is this really what you want?”

  She pulled him down to her open mouth and thrust her tongue deep into him, devouring him and giving him everything she had. When she ended the kiss, she rotated her hips against his. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone more. Please, Sean, make love to me. Now.”

  TORI HAD KNOWN he was close to orgasm; she remembered the taste of him just before he came. If she’d gone like two more strokes, he would’ve lost it, and God, how she loved when that happened. She felt so amazing, so powerful. Giving him pleasure, feeling his satisfaction had been more gratifying than she’d ever imagined. She’d had a handful of other partners, but none as exciting and . . . thorough as Sean. He was never done until she was a boneless mass of contentment. And she wanted nothing but the same for him.

  But instead of giving her what she wanted, he reached back and guided her legs from his hips. He pressed her thighs into the bed and pushed them wider. Then he brought his hands up, one knuckle grazing her clit as he went, sending a shudder through her frame. He knew just how to touch her to make her wild with want.

  “Sean, you’re very cruel.”

  He arched a brow as he looked down at her, his gaze taunting but oh-so-sexy. “Am I? I think you’ll find I’m the opposite by the time I’m finished.” His words held such dark promise that she shivered again without him even touching her. “You remember, I see.”

  Her breathing quickened as her heart rate sped. “Don’t tease me.”

  “You like it when I tease.” He slowly traced circles over her stomach and hips, his fingertips coming agonizingly close to her breasts and clit.

  She did. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, giving herself over to the sensations he created. His touch remained light, his hands caressing her arms, her shoulders, her thighs. Need pulsed in her core, and her hips starting rotating in tiny circles, her ass lifting slightly off the bed as her body cried for him to increase the pressure, to touch her, to take her.

  Wet heat draped her breast as he took her nipple in his mouth. She moaned and arched off the bed, her fingers grasping the hair at his nape.

  “Uh-uh,” he said against her, leaving her cold and frustrated. “You know the rules. No touching.”

  He enjoyed torturing her, making her keep her hands on the bed—she usually wound her fingers into the sheets and practically ripped them to shreds—or securing her wrists to the headboard as he’d done that one night at his condo. God, that had been hot. He’d blindfolded her and used an ice cube . . . Shit, now she was going to come.

  “This is a great bed to tie you to.” He reached up and clasped one of the two slender horizontal logs that made up the headboard. He glanced down at her with that devilish grin—and right now, he did remind her of some sort of demon sent to torment her, which she totally deserved after the way she’d frozen him out.

  “But,” he said, pressing her hands back onto the bed, “I think I’ll save that for later.” He lifted a shoulder. “Touch me, if you must.”

  She was desperate to, but she dug her fingertips into the quilt. “What I must do is feel you touching me. Now. Stop talking, for crying out loud. You always did talk too much.”

  He laughed, and the sultry sound aroused her almost as much as his
mouth and hands. “You like when I talk to you during sex. When I tell you what I’m going to do. Open your mouth, Tori, so I can tongue-fuck you.”

  Another dark shiver raced from the back of her neck to the tips of her toes. She did as he asked, parting her lips as he ravaged her with his mouth. The kiss was deep and brutal, and she grasped the quilt, pulling it up off the bed as she fisted her hands. His hands cupped her face and neck as he held her captive to his lips and tongue.

  Sucking her lower lip, he drew back. “More? Or should I continue to something else? Tell me what you want. Your breasts?” His fingertips grazed her nipples then pinched, eliciting a gasp from her kiss-bruised mouth. “Or maybe your sweet cunny? That’s an old-fashioned word, but I like it. How about you?”

  She didn’t care what he called it, so long as he touched it. Her chest thudded with her excitement. “Both?”

  He chuckled darkly. “You’re such a greedy thing. But your wish is my command.”

  His mouth dropped to her breast, and he drank her in deep, his lips and tongue lavishing heat and pleasure with every stroke and suck. She had to work to keep her hands on the bed, but it wouldn’t last much longer. And he knew it. She always capitulated, and he reveled in it.

  Then his hand was between her thighs, his fingertips gliding over her damp folds. His touch was gentle for only a moment, then his thumb went to devastating work on her clit. Round and round he stroked her, all while he drove her to the brink of orgasm with what he was doing to her breasts. He’d moved to the other now, holding her firmly while he suckled her.

  He pushed his finger into her, and she bucked off the bed. He withdrew, went back to her clit to torture her some more, then entered her again with two fingers. White lights began to spark behind her eyelids. She moaned and gasped and just generally made the most humiliating noises, but she didn’t care. She lost every inhibition she’d ever possessed when she was with Sean.