by Wendy Smith
“I’ll put earpods in.”
Slipping out of bed, I pick up my jeans and pull my earpods out of a pocket. Turning on the Bluetooth, I lie back on the sheet as they connect.
“Ready.”
Brad laughs again. “I’m not sure how hot it is when you sound like you’re awaiting instruction.”
“We’re gonna have phone sex, right? Because I am so down for sex of any kind with you.”
“You’re crazy. And I’m crazy about you.”
“I forgot to take my panties off. One moment please, caller.”
All I can hear is his laughter. At least he’s not grumpy with me. Hooking my fingers into the waistband of my panties, I slip them off and throw them on the floor.
“I want to touch you so bad,” he says. “You’ll have to do it for me.”
“You sound practiced at this.”
“I’m not. But I’ve spent the last few weeks with you on my mind, torn about what to do. Constantly. We made new memories, and I want more.”
I sniff. “I want more too. I’m so sorry. I got scared and I ran. And then I hated myself for running. And then I thought maybe it was best if I stayed away, and then …”
“You know you talk too much, right?” There’s nothing better than hearing the bemusement in his voice.
“So this irritating man who used to be my boyfriend says.”
“Used to be, huh?”
I lick my lips. “You’re not exactly a boy anymore, Bradley.”
“Nice of you to notice. Put a finger in your pussy for me.”
His words hit me hard, and before I even think about it, I slide my hand down my body. “Is this how grown-up Brad talks to me?”
“Right now, it is.”
I slip a finger inside me. “Now what?”
“Tell me how wet you are.”
“Maybe a little bit.” I tease.
“I need to hear it.” There’s irritation in his voice, but a sense of urgency.
“I’m wet.”
“Close your eyes.”
I shut my eyes.
“Beautiful Molly. Come with me, baby. Touch yourself.”
I slide my finger up and over my clit. “Brad,” I whisper, opening my eyes again. He needs to be here.
“That’s it. Fuck, I want to be with you. I keep thinking about touching you, tasting you.”
I begin to rub my clit, letting out soft moans as I grow closer to coming. While I hate not having him with me, knowing he’s on the other end of the phone brings my body to life.
“Come for me, Molly. I want to hear it. Fuck, I love the way you look when you come.” He breathes heavily down the phone. “I wish I was there.”
“I wish you were too.”
My fingers slip over my clit again and again. I close my eyes. When I do that, he’s there with me, his beard brushing against my shoulder as he kisses my neck, his strong hand steadying my hip as I touch myself. I shiver.
“Brad,” I moan as the first wave hits. Heat traverses my body, my lower half bucking as my climax overtakes me.
“That’s so fucking hot. I like it when you call my name.”
I tear up, missing him in that moment more than I ever have. There’s no way I can live without him. I was fooling myself to ever think I could.
“I might have made a mess myself.” He chuckles.
Hold. Me. Down.
“So you were …?”
“Yes. It was impossible not to, hearing you moan. I’d prefer to be buried inside you, but I had to make do with my hand.”
Maybe it’s still the alcohol, but while the thought of him with his cock in his hand is a massive turn-on, his words make me giggle.
“Are you laughing at me, Molly Beckham?”
“I’m sorry.” I laugh.
He chuckles again, and how I love hearing it.
“Go and drink a big glass of water, and get some sleep,” he says softly. “Love you.”
“I love you too. I’m so sorry I freaked out and left.”
“Me too. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t have had to do that over the phone.” His voice is so smooth and caring. “I could have watched you come.”
My insides fall apart, and it takes everything for me to hold it all together. I need Brad. I crave him like he’s forbidden.
I spent years knowing he was out of my reach, and it was my own fault.
“Good night, Molly. Don’t think for a moment that I’ll let you go a third time.”
25
Molly
My head thumps.
I open one eye, and everything’s blurry. What I need right now are painkillers and more sleep.
Last night, I drank too much, and yet it doesn’t feel like enough.
A loud buzz sounds, and I nearly jump out of my skin at the noise. What the hell?
It happens again, and again, and again before I finally register what it is.
There’s someone at the gate.
I look down at the pile of papers on the bed. Right on top is a copy of Darryn’s offer that he had couriered to my house. There it is. All I have to do is sign this agreement and I walk away a billion dollars richer. I can run away, leave the country, and never look back.
It’s not what I want, but maybe it’s what I have to do to start again.
Buzz.
Shit. In my hungover state, I’d forgotten there was someone at the gate.
I slide out of bed, and walk to the button on the wall. I put panels everywhere so I could hear if someone was at the gate. It’s convenient when my stomach’s rolling just from moving and the room’s spinning a little.
“Who is it?”
“Molly, it’s me.”
Brad. I swallow hard. “You’re here?”
“Let me in. I need to talk to you.”
I press the second button, the one that opens the electric gate. I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do, or if I can handle the anger he’s no doubt feeling, but I’m not sure if I could say no to him.
He has every right to tell me how angry he is.
Brad on the other end of the phone while I …
Wait. That’s why he’s here. It’s also why I woke up naked.
Desire flickers up my body at the thought of what we did last night.
He’s here for me.
I open a drawer and pull out a big T-shirt, throwing it on. If he’s driven in the gate, he’ll be here any second.
Running to the door, I fling it open. He’s waiting on the other side.
“Brad, I—”
He swallows my words as his lips crash onto mine. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me toward him. I leap, hooking my legs around his thighs, and kiss him back for all I’m worth. Need pours from us both.
When we break apart, we’re breathless, and I drop my legs to the floor.
He presses his forehead to mine. “After last night, I had to come.”
“I thought you did that during our call.”
“Cut the jokes for just a little while, Molly. This is something you can’t run away from.” Brad pulls away. “You left.”
I swallow hard. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Again.”
I nod. Tears prick my eyes, and I close them rather than look at him.
“But I’m not letting you get away this time. Not that easily.”
“Brad.” I open my eyes. There’s so much love written all over his face. I can’t do this again. I can’t reject the man I’ve loved all my life. But are we both strong enough to deal with external pressures?
“I want you. And I know you want me too,” he says.
I drop my gaze.
“Molly, please. There’s nothing in our way. There hasn’t been for two years. And Gracie wants you with us too.”
“She does?” I look back up.
“Lane told her so much about you that she feels like she knows you.”
“The old me.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t see a difference standing here.”
My heart thuds. I’ve hidden away from the world for so long, sheltering my heart. I should have known the minute I stepped back into my old life that the wall I’d built around me would shatter.
I could never hide anything from Brad.
“But your mother—”
“My mother doesn’t get to decide who I’m with. She’s stuck in the past, because she didn’t understand my divorce from Lane.”
I lick my lips. “Was it that bad when I left?”
“I shut myself in my room for six weeks. I didn’t speak to anyone, and only came out for meals. She worried.”
I nod. “I can understand that. She hates me because I did that to you.”
“You did. But now I know why. It doesn’t make it hurt any less, but what hurts even more is you walking away from me a second time when there’s nothing to stop us being together.”
I swallow hard, closing my eyes. “You were just widowed.”
“No, I wasn’t. Lane and me, we were never getting back together. There was never the need for each other in our relationship like I had with you. The end of our marriage was mutual.” He takes a step forward. “We weren’t separated. We were divorced. Gracie got to have both of us, and we got through it.”
“What about Grace? Kids at school can be—”
He grasps my arms, and I fix my gaze on him. “Grace will be fine. She really likes you, Moll. You helped cheer her up on one of the worst days of her life. She’s seven. She knows what death is, and she just lost her mother. But you were there, and you are the closest thing to Lane she has.”
“Brad, I—”
“Quit it with the excuses. Grace knows how proud her mother was of her best friend. She’s grown up hearing all about the great Molly Beckham. If I brought her here, I think her head might explode.”
I can’t help it. I laugh, and he rubs my arms.
“But right now, I want to talk about you and me. It feels right. It feels real. I can’t believe you if you say you don’t feel it too.”
I nod. “I feel it.”
“There’s nothing in the way of us. Nothing. If you need me to, I’ll pack up our life and we’ll move out here to be with you.”
My eyes prick with tears. “You’d do that?”
“Being with you—I can’t even begin to describe what it was like for me. It was perfect, Molly. You and me—we were always meant to be together. I know that now more than ever.”
“You just spent the last two weeks ignoring me.”
He nods. “I didn’t mean to. At first, I was so angry and hurt and worried that I’d say something I’d regret. I’m trying to get our lives back on track, and I knew we had things to work through, but when you left …” He blows out a breath. “I started typing replies to you so many times and fumbling with the words because I wasn’t sure how to feel.”
“And now?” I search his face.
“You’re the one I want to spend my life with, Molly. I can’t imagine being happy with anyone else now we’ve been together again. You running from me was confusing.”
“I didn’t run from you. What your mother said—it hit me hard. I had a panic attack about the damage I could cause you if I stayed.”
He reaches out and wipes away the tears that have fallen down my cheeks. “A panic attack? Since when have you had those?”
“It started when my company took off so fast. That’s why I have Miranda to take care of so much at work. She’s my person. In the early days, she took care of things when I was rocking in the corner of my office.”
Concern crosses his face. “Did you see someone for that?”
I nod. “Yes, but I haven’t had a panic attack for a really long time. But I think the thrill of us being together again, and spending the night with you, and knowing just how deeply I love you and Grace …”
“And then Mom comes and dumps all that on us.”
“I’m so sorry, Brad. I would understand if you didn’t want to take a risk on me.”
He envelops me in his arms, and I close my eyes. He’s with me, and that’s all that matters.
We stand there for what feels like forever before he releases me.
“There’s no risk, Molly. I know the way you feel.” He runs his fingers down my cheek. “I’m sorry. If it’s worth anything, you’re all I want. And I’ll do my best from here on in to make sure you feel safe.”
Hot tears spill down my face. “I’ll do my best to talk instead of run.”
I close my eyes as he pushes hair off my face. His touch is soothing. “We’ll work together. You overwhelm me, Molly Beckham. In the best kind of way.”
He kisses the tears from me as I open my eyes. Lowering his voice, he murmurs near my ear. “Now. I have some pent-up frustration left over from last night …”
“Want to see my bedroom?” I waggle my eyebrows, curling my lips into a smile.
He nods. “I got here as soon as I could. I’m so tired from traveling. I lucked out on the first and only flight out of Nettle Downs this morning.”
I stroke his cheek. “Oh, my poor baby. Does Bradley need a sleep?”
He grins. “Maybe after.”
“After what?”
I screech with laughter as he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. “Tell me where before we end up doing this on your dining room floor,” he says.
“Straight ahead and to the right, up the hallway.”
He follows my instructions, and I keep laughing as he carries me into the bedroom. “Holy shit, Molly. Your bedroom’s huge.” Brad sets me down on the floor. “What on earth is going on with your bed?”
I turn my head and shrug. The bed is littered with papers. Proposals, project plans, financial reports—and that offer. “Nothing. My bed is an extension of my desk.”
“How can one person make so much mess?”
I shrug. “I think the relevant point is that my bed’s been empty for a while.”
Brad laughs, shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Just love me. That’s all I want.”
His eyes flash with desire and love, and so much emotion I want to cry again.
When he pulls back the comforter, the papers go flying. I squeal.
“I hope that wasn’t anything important.”
“Nothing is as important as you putting your cock in me right now.”
He shakes his head. “You are such a dirty talker.”
“It’s all those years spent on the Internet.”
I squeal as he pushes me onto the bed. As if he had to.
“I love you, Molly Beckham.”
“I love you too, Bradley Matheson.”
He screws up his face. “The only other person who calls me Bradley is my mother when she’s angry.”
“Is that right, Bradley?” I laugh.
“Do I really need to find you something else to do with that smart mouth of yours?” He chuckles.
“Yes, please.”
His lips are on mine, his tongue sweeping across my tongue. Kissing him takes me back. He was the first boy to kiss me, and this is even better.
He was right. We do have a lot of lost time to make up for.
I smile at his groan when he lifts my T-shirt. “You’re not wearing any panties. All that time wasted talking at the door when I could have been taking the taste I dreamed about.”
His beard tickles my thighs, and I let out a sigh of contentment. “This is what I imagined last night. It’s what helped me to … you know.”
He chuckles against my skin. “Oh, I know. I heard you.”
My cheeks flush, but I can’t deny it was hot. “We might have to get used to doing that from time to time.”
“Let’s talk about that after we’ve caught up.” He sweeps his tongue over my pussy in long licks. I melt into him. This is perfect. He’s perfect. I have to try and not freak out on him again.
When he settles on my clit, I lift off the bed and I soar.
“Brad,” I cry out.
<
br /> “You taste so damn good,” he murmurs. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He flicks his tongue on my clit, over and over again.
It’s all too much.
I’ve got back the love of my life when I thought all was lost. He came for me when I needed him.
And I need him now more than ever.
Tears roll down my cheeks. “Brad,” I cry.
He stops what he’s doing. “Molly?”
“I screwed things up between us. I love you so much, and I nearly threw it all away again.”
He moves up beside me, enveloping me in his arms as the tears stream down my face. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He plants kisses on my temple.
“I’m so sorry.” I sob, the words coming in between.
“I know you are. I’m right here, Molly.”
This wonderful man I’m still not sure I deserve just holds me in his arms. All I’ve ever done is hurt him. All he’s ever done is love me.
“Take me home,” I whisper. “Once E3 is over, take me home with you.”
“Whatever you want.” He cradles me, giving me the comfort I crave and the strength I need. “I’d give you the moon if I could.”
I sniff. “I don’t want the moon. I want you.”
“You’ve got me. I’m here, Molly. Right where I want to be.”
In his arms, I feel safe, and before I know it, my eyes are closed and I don’t feel anything anymore.
When I wake, it’s warm. So warm.
I open my eyes to find Brad still with me, his body pressed against mine.
“You’re awake.” His deep voice rumbles.
“You’re still here.”
He runs his index finger down my cheek and along my jaw, raising my gaze to meet his. “Did you think I’d leave?”
I shake my head. “No. I thought I might have dreamed you.”
His lips twitch. “Like I told you. I’m right here.”
He is. My heart is full. But not my brain. “My head hurts.”
He smiles. “I’m pretty sure that has to do with the hangover. But I know a cure.”
I snort. “What cure?”
Brad runs his hand up my thigh, and my legs fall apart at his touch.
“So beautiful,” he whispers. “And all mine.”
“Is that right?” I ask.