by Ash Harlow
His fingers opened and closed at the suggestion. “Ah, no, Lulah, that’s not going to work.”
She cocked her head, suggesting that it would work, one way or another.
“You see, that would entail my co-operation,” he continued, “and some pretty persuasive talking on your part.”
“This here, is my sales pitch.” She waved the condom at him.
“Lulah, I won’t let go, that’s a promise okay?”
“You keep talking in that low, sexy voice, Vince. Works fine for me.” She started a slow, backward crawl down his body, raising her hips to skim over his erection before settling back on him, midway down his thighs. She looked at his erection for a few too many seconds, then back to Vince. His hands were clenched around the slats, and for the first time she worried about the sturdiness of her bed.
“Lulah,” he said, his voice rough, “can we speed this up a bit?”
She went back to his cock. Ran the knuckle of her index finger from the base to the head. “Is this all for me, Vince?”
“Only if you hurry,” he muttered through his teeth.
She brushed her thumb over the head, through the wetness that gathered there. His hips rose to meet her hand, trying for more contact. She waved the condom at him. “Hope this fits.”
“I’ll make it fit, okay? Why don’t you give it to me?”
She shook her head and held the condom out of reach. In a flash he’d snatched it from her, pushing her hand away, and rolled it on.
“You’re meant to be holding the headboard, Vince.”
“We’ll go back to that another day, right now, you’re killing me. I’m going to blow an artery if I’m not inside you in the next five seconds.”
“I see you still need to work on your impulse control.” Positioning herself over him, she started to rub her slippery entrance across the head of his cock. He grabbed hold of her hips.
“Take as long as you want, imp, but all moves are in one direction now.”
She pulled back a grin, as she started a long, slow settle over him. He was big, hard, and it had been a while. “Slowly,” she whispered, easing him inside.
Vince groaned. “Don’t move.”
To be honest, she didn’t know if she wanted to. The look he gave her was hot, scorching hot, and she would happily stay awhile with him burning her up, inside and out. But she wanted to watch him lose control, wanted to hear her name on his lips, and she started to ease up the length of him, gaining some satisfaction as she drew her name from his mouth.
With a tight hold on her hips he pulled her back down on him. “Christ, you’re like a hot, wet furnace. You keep gripping me like that, I’m going to come in seconds.”
She loved the idea of taking him over the edge, and once seated deep within her, she squeezed her muscles again, enveloping him as he tried to withdraw. “Do you like that, hot guy?”
His response a mere sound, harsh and inherently male as he pulled away to push harder and deeper into her. He took his hands from the bed head, taking one to her hip, one to the top of the shoulder. “You can punish me later, but right now, I have to do this.”
Lulah threw back her head, her back arched as Vince filled her over and over, his hips rising to meet her as she rocked against him. With a final lunge, his control snapped. When he cried out her name, she relinquished her own barely curbed constraint and fell upon him, trembling, covering his face with kisses and murmurs of pleasure.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Vince spent the morning building a transport crate for the carousel dog. The truck was due late that afternoon to make the pick-up to take it to Seattle for Friday’s fundraiser. He was pleased with the way the Justice replica turned out and hoped it would be well-received at the auction.
Almost as amazing as making love to Lulah the previous night was the fact that he slept the night with her without the intrusion of nightmares.
Fucking incredible, and unintentional because he could never have consciously risked harming her again. After a long shower, they’d returned to her bed and as he held her, intending only to stay until she slipped into sleep, he had fallen asleep too.
Back in bed, Lulah rolled him to his stomach, straddled him, vowing to finish that massage she’d started all those weeks ago. With a gentle inquiry she asked about his scars, his tattoos, allowing him to tell bits of each story without interruption or asking for more than he was capable of sharing. The compass tattoo on the back of his shoulder she ignored until last, and he’d tensed when he knew the question would be coming as she traced it with one fingertip, drawing over each point and the letters of each associated name. She kissed each one, long, drawn-out kisses, before lying full-length over his body, her cheek resting on the tattoo.
The few words he’d managed about his friends, memorialized on his back, were enough for her and they’d stayed that way, Lulah draped over him, protecting him, breathing with him, until at some stage he’d rolled her to her side, holding her close against his stomach, soothing her to sleep.
He’d woken a little after five a.m. Lulah tucked tightly to him, her hand wrapped around his wrist in a manner that tugged at his heart. When he stirred, Lulah woke, too, so they spent the next hour exploring each other’s bodies. He’d started at her feet, kissing, touching, small bites and smaller caresses, never staying in one place too long so that new bundles of nerves were teased awake and abandoned before they became accustomed to his touch. Too soon, the dogs butted in with their demands to go outside.
They’d made breakfast together, bumping into each other as they worked within the small kitchen space, shared spontaneous touches that were so easy they required no thought or apology. He’d sat across from Lulah at breakfast and honestly, he hadn’t wanted to move. Hadn’t wanted Lulah to move, either. Is this what it could be like for them? This quiet harmony and unbelievably hot sex?
“What do you mean ‘he’s gone’?”
“There.” Lulah pushed the scrap of paper across the table to Adam.
“Break. His safeword.” He handed it back to Lulah. “Any ideas?”
“Nope.” Lulah folded the note, over and over until it became a tiny scrap, and stuffed it in her pocket. She shrugged. “Just that one word, you know: all big shouty caps, jammed under a rock at my door. No explanation.” She exhaled. “Jesus, I do deserve an explanation, don’t I?”
“Depends on the terms of the safeword.”
“The terms are: no explanation required. Damn safeword. Something bad’s happened, Adam, I know it. On Wednesday we had this bit of a drama at dog training because Taryn, his ex-wife, turned up for class. We worked through that and everything was good.” Her cheeks heated when she recalled exactly how good it was. “He stayed over.”
“Big relationship shift, huh? Was he okay this morning?”
“Oh, yeah, he was better than okay this morning.” Lulah managed a smile. “But seriously, he wasn’t running scared, or anything. A little bit nervous about the speech tonight but certainly not saying he didn’t want to do it. In fact, quite the opposite. No matter how much it bothered him to stand up in a crowded place, he was determined to make the speech and help the people understand the program.”
“Is there anything else going on in his life right now?”
“Apart from making some progress within himself, nothing. Work’s coming in, and for his daily stuff he’s found Calliope invaluable. Counseling is positive, and we were, you know—”
Adam raised his hand. “Spare the details.”
“I honestly thought we’d reached a point where he wouldn’t need a break. If anything cropped up, I presumed he would come to me and we could work through it. When I left this morning, we were all sweet for today. We’d arranged to meet at the cabin at lunchtime, have a bite to eat, and take a leisurely drive up to Seattle. I can’t believe he’s taken off. I’m so…” What was she? Angry, frustrated, and let down. So very let down.
“Come here.”
She closed her eyes as Ada
m wrapped her in a hug. The urge to bury her face in his chest and let the floodgates open tempted her, encouraging her to give in this once, but she would conquer it. She always had.
“Let it go, Lulah.”
She shook her head. “Can’t,” she mumbled into his shirt, drew a deep breath and pushed off him. “This is what it’s like, isn’t it, for all the partners and parents of people with PTSD out there? They live day-to-day with this unpredictability. I can’t do that, Adam. I grew up like this and coming back here today, expecting Vince to be here—because, I’m sorry, but, it’s a really fucking important event—and instead he’s vanished. Well, it’s a timely reminder before I fell too hard.”
“So I guess you’ve tried his phone, looked for clues, all that sort of stuff.”
“Yup. The phone’s turned off, or out of juice. His pickup’s gone. At least he has Calliope with him.” She faced Adam. “I guess we should go. Thanks for fitting me in with you guys, I don’t feel like driving right now.”
Adam did some shuffling, arranging for Dave and Cody to travel to Seattle with Mike, leaving room in the car for her, with him and Marlo. “Get yourself into the car and I’ll bring your bag.”
They drove in silence for a short while before Lulah started to realize the impact of Vince’s vanishing act. “Guys, this Vince thing isn’t good. For a start, how is it going to be for Dave and Cody? It may knock their confidence because it will appear to them that even though Vince has practiced with Calliope for much longer than they have, having a service dog hasn’t improved his life. If they think Vince has lost it and Calliope couldn’t help, they’re not going to be too confident around their own dogs.”
“Mike’s going to talk to them and explain that something major has happened to Vince. The only other thing we can do is promise them we’ll let them know as much as possible about what went on, so that they can see it is an unusual set of circumstances.”
“Okay, so what do we do about tonight? Vince is in the program for giving a speech and for the Justice model. When people find out the star of the show has disappeared, they’re hardly likely to support a cause that is failing in its first outing.”
“Is there some way we can skirt around it?” Marlo asked.
“No.” Adam replied. “No denying it. If the real story emerges we’ve lost credibility forever. If we’re honest about it we can move on from there.”
They turned onto I-5, now in a convoy with Mike.
Lulah’s anger was entirely misplaced. Whatever had happened to Vince, he hadn’t wandered off to be annoying or because he hadn’t given it much thought. Even though he must have had a really good reason, accepting it was difficult.
Her disappointment grew because she thought they’d made so much headway and even more, she thought she’d made a difference in his life, making it better for him. Somewhere along the way, when she wasn’t watching, she’d slipped into rescuer mode. Time to pull back.
Lulah watched the countryside blur past the window. Her mouth was dry and the onset of a rare headache threatened. That was when she had the idea. “I’ll make Vince’s speech.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I can do it. I’ve listened to it enough I almost know it by heart. Of course, they were Vince’s words and they needed to come from him but I think I can use the essence of what he wanted to say, and turn it a bit, so that it explains why Vince isn’t there.”
“Have you done any public speaking?” Adam asked.
“Absolutely…”
“Great.”
“Absolutely none, to be honest. But I can do it for the program. We can’t fail at this point.”
“If you’re sure, otherwise I can fill in with some stuff. But really, it would be way better to have something from you. Let’s go straight to the hotel and you can practice what you want to say.”
“Right now I want to kill Vince so I’ll use the rest of the drive demolishing that feeling so that I can get on with saying nice things.”
The place was crowded. Vince’s banner behind the stage was spectacular, drawing again from Lulah that bewildering mix of anger at him and concern for his state of mind. The banner image of a dog and a man—Vince and Calliope loosely disguised—sharing a private connection would stir the emotions of the most hard-hearted among the guests. It hung as a testament to both Vince’s talent and his early training in commercial graphic art.
Following Adam and Marlo through the maze of tables and the rumble of voices, she couldn’t help scanning the room, hoping that maybe Vince had made it here and wasn’t going to let her down after all. She could see Mike already seated at the main table where they were headed and he stood to greet her, coming around the table to take her elbow and show her to her seat.
“You look stunning.”
Maybe. She had to agree that the effect of the dress surprised her, but the effort had been for one person who hadn’t been able to return the favor. This kind of thinking was no good for her. It was disappointment, hurt, and her own fault for going against instincts.
She sat and thanked Mike for the compliment. A grand occasion such as this, was foreign territory for her, so she’d make sure to enjoy herself. Scanning the room with a new attitude, she noted people from CRAR, and their president, Mae, who was Marlo’s guardian through her teenage years.
The guests who filled the room seemed to be a mix of minor celebrities and the screamingly rich, sometimes both. At Dog Haven Sanctuary they never had much contact with the money side of CRAR, who funded them along with a string of other sanctuaries throughout the country.
Staying away from the financial side suited Lulah because these types of people brought her insecurities to the surface and now, thanks to Vince’s no-show, she was about to make a speech to them.
She leaned across the table. “Marlo, I think I’m going to be sick. How many people are here? And they all look awesome and fabulous, and any moment now I’m going to collapse to the floor and start flapping about because I’m totally a fish out of water.”
“Lulah, you look amazing.” She turned. “Tell her, Mike.”
“I’ve told her once, but I’m happy to keep at it.”
Marlo nodded at him. “Thank you.” She faced Lulah. “All you have to do is encourage them to part with their money.”
“Now you’re making me sound like a hooker.”
“You’ll charm them. We have faith in you, otherwise we wouldn’t let you do it.”
“Oh, good, so no pressure. I’m not going to be able to eat. Do you know that? And I bet the food will be wonderful. Why couldn’t they have the speeches and auction first, dinner after?”
“You’ll eat, you’ve never been known not to.”
“I’ll probably drink too much, and face-plant as I negotiate the steps to the stage in these ridiculous heels. My nose will whack the top step and blood will pour down the front of the only decent dress I’ve ever worn. When I finally make it to the podium, I’ll have to make the entire speech with my head tilted back, pinching the bridge of my nose.”
“Perfect. Imagine the sympathy. They’ll be bidding like philanthropic billionaires.”
“Everyone will see up it!”
“What?”
“My nose.”
“No,” Marlo shook her head, “there’ll be too much gore; they won’t be able to see a thing.”
“Not helping. Distract me, Marlo. Where’s Adam?”
“Fussing. Making certain everything is perfect. Schmoozing the pretty people. He’s scarcely been in the country and he appears to know half the people in the room. He’ll know them all by the end of the night.”
“They like his cute accent.”
“Yeah.” Marlo smiled. “So long as that’s all they like.”
Lulah had to ask. She’d gone two hours without asking and she’d messed with her phone so many times it now had a dead battery. “Any news of Vince?”
“You’ll be the first to know when there is.”
She caught herself
scanning the ballroom again. Pathetic, but she couldn’t help it. The room had completely filled now and when she checked her watch she saw they were five minutes from dinner being served.
At the next table sat Dave and his wife, with Bravo, Dave’s dog settled quietly at his feet. Cody and his parents were alongside, and his dog Alpha placed two paws up on Cody’s lap. Cody stroked him, mouth tight, gaze flickering about as if he’d rather have his back to the wall with a clear view of the exits. Lulah nudged Mike. “Does Cody need some encouragement?”
Mike stood. “Yeah, he’s wired. I’ll go and have a word.”
The wait staff served dinner by the time Mike returned to the table. After one mouthful of the fish, Lulah discovered her appetite was intact.
“See, I told you your appetite wouldn’t desert you.”
“The butterflies need feeding,” Lulah added between mouthfuls.
“More like the worms,” Marlo suggested.
Everyone laughed. “Oh thanks, that really helped a lot.” Way too soon for Lulah’s comfort, Adam left the table and mounted the stage. When he stood in front of the podium the noise level dropped to a simmer before finally silencing completely.
Lulah leaned over to Marlo. “Adam in jeans and a t-shirt is pretty hot, but put that guy in a suit and he’s devastating. You’d better haul him to the altar quick, because about half the women in the room appear as though they’d happily ditch their husbands for him.”
“He’s not going anywhere. It breaks his heart to even leave me at the table.”
Marlo was right, and despite the fact that she had a speech to deliver in front of a couple of hundred people—an act that made her knees weak in a disturbing way—she couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to be so adored. To have a guy who had your back, cared for you, encouraged you to grow, and looked freaking amazing. She’d enjoyed bits of that for a short while, and she admitted that over the past couple of weeks she’d wanted more.