by Casey Hagen
With his hands cupping her waist, he pulled her body toward him as he pressed into her. She arched up under the unfamiliar stretching.
“Oh,” she breathed.
Buried deep, he stopped. She concentrated on getting the air in and out of her lungs, but for the love of God she needed him to thrust. Craved it.
“God, I wish you could see you the way I see you right now.” He pushed her shirt up and traced his finger down her spine, dipping it right between her cheeks.
“Jack?”
“Hmmm,” he murmured.
“You didn’t get me naked.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Are you going to?”
His big hand slid to the back of her neck. He turned her a bit, exposing the side of her face on the mattress. There was nothing sexier than being trapped there, with him holding her to the mattress, wondering what he would do to her next.
How he would pleasure her next.
“How committed are you to this shirt?”
“It’s just a shirt.”
“Good,” he muttered. He let go of her neck, her body jerked, fabric tore, and she laughed, freer than she had ever been before.
He flicked her bra, then wrapped his arm around her and raised her up, staying inside her the whole time as he settled back.
His hand reached for that tight bundle of nerves between her vibrating thighs as he began to slowly thrust in and out, in and out.
His other hand pulled the dangling bra from her breasts, the straps dragging down her arms.
He held her, straddling him while he was on his knees behind her, his right hand circling faster and faster, his left teasing and tormenting her tight nipples as they faced a wall of windows overlooking the ocean.
Moonlight danced on the water as waves kicked up with the storm. It thundered overhead, pounding with her heart.
She couldn’t help but grip his thick forearm and hold on as he worked her into a frenzy, everything inside her stretching impossibly tight. He growled low in her ear, his harsh breathing only fueling her fevered blood as he increased his pace, going deeper.
“Jack,” she whimpered.
“Can you take more?”
“Yes, God yes!”
He lifted her clean off of him, the drag of him as he slid out of her so jarring that she screamed.
He flipped her onto her back and froze. Raised up over her, his hard, hair-dusted chest rising and falling with his labored breath, his gaze traced over her and something about it bordered on a kind of worship she hadn’t seen in a man’s eyes before.
She fought to not squirm.
“I think first, a kiss.”
“I could go for a kiss.”
“Could you?” he winked, curled his hands around her thighs, and buried his face in the heart of her.
He sucked that bundle of nerves between his lips, coaxing, teasing, and then licking until a burning heat robbed her of the ability to move.
Her nails bit into the sheets. Her skin slicked with sweat. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, that the assault was too much, just when she reached out to stop him, he took his mouth away from her, grasped her hips, and took her.
It took just one stroke to have her screaming into the darkness. The orgasm tore at her from the inside out. Her eyes welled with tears at the wonder of the most all-consuming sensation dominating every single cell, leaving her boneless and exhausted.
He let out a shout above her before collapsing over her. His lips rained kisses over her temples, her cheeks, and her mouth.
“That was one hell of a kiss, grandpa,” she gasped out as tears of relief rolled down the side of her face.
“Yeah, not bad for an old man.” He rolled to her side and propped his head up on his hand.
His finger danced over her skin, not arousing but soothing, and after what he’d just done to her she needed it.
“I’ve never had someone make me feel like that.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
She wrinkled her nose and turned her face to his. “But I didn’t do anything.”
“You trusted me enough to let me lead. You trusted me enough to come here.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
For the first time that night, she questioned it. Because the one thing she hadn’t trusted him enough to do was to tell him the truth, that she had a son.
She didn’t trust him to give them a chance despite it.
The longer she didn’t trust him, the longer she could hold on to him.
“Can you stay tonight?”
She nodded. “For tonight.”
10
Jack walked on air. There was no other way to put it. Cheesy, but with every step on the balls of his size-twelve feet he bounced his way through the morning.
A long night of incredible sex after one hell of a drought did that to a man. And he had proven, three times, that he may technically be a grandfather but he could give any teen a run for his money at any time.
Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
He took Laura to her car bright and early so she could get home and get ready for work. He made sure to get her phone number this time. There was no way in hell he was going to keep hoping to bump into her.
He also bent her over her hood and kissed her senseless.
He swatted her sweet ass, too, making her grin from ear to ear.
In the back part of his sex-soothed mind, way back, a tiny little voice reminded him he had some serious shit to deal with. He wasn’t ignoring it. Really, he wasn’t, but for the first time he’d been fully honest with someone about his past and he’d lucked out because she didn’t condemn him for it. She accepted.
Now he had someone he could open up to, and the weight of his past, of his mistakes, all of it seemed a whole lot more bearable than ever before.
This newfound relief couldn’t have come at a better time, because if he turned out to be a viable option for Sophie he had some unpredictable waters ahead, and it helped to know that he had someone he respected to share that with. He bounded through the door to the construction trailer, marched over to Roseanne’s desk, and picked her right up off her feet in a big hug.
“Well, what the heck has gotten into you?” He set her back down and she grabbed his cheeks. “Or should I say, who did you get into?”
“Adult sleepovers are the best.”
“Don’t I know it, but if you care about me at all, spare me the details.”
“Anything for you, Roseanne.”
She glared at him. “Are you going to be able to work like this?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get in the way of my work then. Close the door, and the window blinds. Your smile is freaking me out.”
He laughed and did just as she asked. An hour later, he still hadn’t gotten anything done. Exhaustion had started to take its toll, and the coffee that usually fueled his day fell short.
He grabbed his keys and headed for the door. “I’m going to The Donut Hole for espresso; you want anything while I’m there?”
“Yes, please. I’ll take one of those cinnamon coffee rolls. Thank you.”
“No prob—” His phone vibrated in his pocket. His stomach rolled when he read the screen. It was the P.I.
“Jack Stephenson speaking.”
“Hi Jack, it’s Alan. I’m not going to pussyfoot around. We got the results. You’re a match. A damn good match.”
Jack didn’t recall moving his feet but he must have, because the next thing he knew he dropped onto the folding chair next to the coffee station.
“Jack, you there?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his thick throat. “I’m here.”
“The hospital is hoping to get you in within the next week if you can make time in your schedule.”
He caught Roseanne’s concerned face and gave her a distracted smile. “Whatever they need. Uh, whatever she needs. Set it up for as soon as you can.”
“Perfect. Chris will be happy to hear that.”
Jack’s heart threatened to beat right out of his chest. He put his hand there as if just the act could slow it down. “Alan, has he said if he wants to meet me yet or not?”
“Uh, no, he hasn’t. Look, it’s not that unusual. It may have nothing to do with you. He’s battling for his little girl. He’s taking it one issue at a time.”
He focused on the floor. “No, I understand. I was just curious.”
“I’m going to call Chris and the hospital and get things set up. I’ll call you shortly with the details.”
“Sounds good.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“You’re welcome. Bye.”
He hung up and found Roseanne studying him. “You’re a match?”
“Yeah, a good one apparently.”
“He’s not ready to meet you?”
“No, not yet.”
“You know, he has a lot he’s dealing with right now. He has to focus on her health and, who knows, he might have more than just one child, and a wife…it’s a lot to handle.”
“Yeah, that’s what Alan said.”
She patted his shoulder. “And the man is right. Look, you go on and get that espresso. When you come back, maybe he’ll have called to let us know what we need to do about your calendar.” She took his elbow and pulled him up. “Now, you go on. And you know what? Get me some of those custard donuts, too. Three of them, you got that?”
He knew what she was doing and he loved her for it. He kissed her cheek and smiled. “I’ve got it. I’ll be back soon.”
He wanted to call Laura. More than anything else, he wanted to hear her voice. Calling as he made the drive was a bad idea so, five minutes later, when he pulled into The Donut Hole, he dialed her number. It went to voice mail.
He left her a message and headed straight for the front door. He must have arrived at just the right time since there was only one person ahead of him. Already tucking their change into their pocket, the customer stepped off to the side and Jack stepped up.
He thought he ordered the right thing. He wasn’t sure. His own voice didn’t even register in his own ears with all the thoughts in a tangled mess in there.
“That’ll be $12.47.”
He gave the girl behind the counter a twenty. When she handed him the change, he dumped it into the tip jar.
“Wow, thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he said absently while checking his phone.
“Hey, Mommy, look. Over there. It’s my Jack!”
Recognizing the voice, Jack looked over the tables to see Bryce waving his hands at him. Maureen and Laura sat on either side of them, surprised looks on their faces. Interesting. Small world, them knowing each other.
“Well hello, Bryce.” He ruffled the boy’s hair and gave him a fist bump; something Bryce had taught him a couple castle-builds ago. “Ladies. I didn’t know you two were friends.”
“Uh—” Laura squeaked out.
“Well…” Maureen began.
“They’re not friends, they’re sisters,” Bryce proclaimed by thrusting his donut in the air. Cream slid out from the center, rolled over his hand, and landed with a splat on the edge of the table.
“Oops. I’m sorry, Mommy,” Bryce said.
Only he wasn’t looking at Maureen.
He was looking right at Laura.
Jack narrowed his eyes.
No goddamned way.
No. Fucking. Goddamned. Way.
This was not happening right now. All that time they’d spent together and she’d never said one word about having a kid.
This kid.
Son of a bitch!
“Mommy?” Jack said, giving Laura a hard look.
He couldn’t say anything else. He couldn’t do anything else. White-hot rage filled him, and if he tried to say anything more he’d lose his shit right here in the fucking Donut Hole and get his ass arrested.
His faceless granddaughter popped into his mind.
He’d hold his shit together. He didn’t know how, but he’d do it.
All this time she’d had a son and hadn’t said one word about it. It’s not like he hadn’t made his feelings on the matter perfectly clear. He’d been crystal clear since day fucking one.
Laura had been smoke and mirrors.
All lies.
“Was any of it true? Ken? The accide—”
“Shhhh, damn it,” Maureen said as she slapped her hands over Bryce’s ears. “Look. I’ll stay here with him. You guys need to take this conversation somewhere else.”
Jack shook his head, determined to get the fuck out of there. “No need for a conversation. Looks like I know everything I need to know. Finally.”
“Jack, wait!” Laura grabbed his wrist.
He yanked his arm free, grabbed his bag, grabbed his espresso, and headed for the door.
“Jack, will you give me a damn minute? Please?”
He pushed open the door and didn’t care if it swung back at her. It hurt to look at her. She stood there, pleading with him in the same pants she'd worn the night he met her. Fury twisted in his gut as he rounded on her. “You lied to me. There’s nothing else to be said.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. Funny how familiar he was with all of her that morning while she slept in his arms, and now it was like looking at a stranger. She had this whole other life he knew nothing about.
“I didn’t tell you about my son, because why would you want to know? You have no interest in kids.”
“I had a right to know before we became involved,” he growled.
“We’ve spent a few evenings together; it’s not like we were getting ready to walk down the aisle.”
Well, if that wasn’t a swift kick in the balls. “Last night was an important night. Apparently more important to me than you. I had every right to know about something like this before I fe—” he stopped. There was no way he was going to tell her he was in love with her. No way. He’d swallow that nugget of truth and bury the fucker in concrete so it never slipped out.
Her eyes widened with words. When he didn’t finish his sentence, her gaze fell to the ground between them. She wiped at her cheeks and he knew that she had started to cry.
Fuck his goddamned heart for giving one shit.
Her tear-filled eyes met his. “My job is to protect him first. You can’t understand that after giving up your own son for the same reason?”
He took an angry step toward her and leaned into her face. “Don’t you dare compare what you did to me with what I did for my son.”
She took a step toward. “You’re just pissed off that I’m right. My sister told me about you and Bryce. I didn’t know it was you. But she told me how you are with him.”
He backed away when she reached for him. “Don’t go there, Laura.”
“You know what the worst part of all of this is? I could meet a good man, he could play with my kid, be really good to him, even nice to me, and still he doesn’t have one damn shot at making me feel an ounce of how you make me feel. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
He circled around to the driver’s side of his truck, Laura hot on his heels. “I don’t care what you do with it. You knew why this mattered so much. From the first few minutes of our meeting, you knew.” He yanked open his door and climbed in. He didn’t even put on his seat belt. He just wanted out of there.
“Jack, I wanted a fair shot. You never would have given me one if you knew I had a son.”
“You wanted a fair shot? It would have been nice if you’d given me one! At least I was honest. You don’t know what I would have said. I may have been interested enough in you to give it a shot, but I never got that chance because you stole it from me.” He slammed his door, forcing her to jump out of the way. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done. We’re done. That message I left you, ignore it. Go ahead and lose my number altogether.”
He tore out of the parking lot, knocking his espresso onto the floor. He’d f
orgotten what bone-deep misery felt like. All those years he’d carried the sorrow of giving up his son. At least he thought he had. Turns out he hadn’t carried shit, because the pain coursing through him now was the closest thing to the agony he’d suffered then.
He was bone-fucking-tired. Physically and emotionally. Just last night his life had been everything he could have hoped for, and now every last positive thing had crumbled to dust.
Well, except for his granddaughter. That’s all he could do now, focus on her and pray she got well. And maybe, if things went well enough, he’d meet his son.
He thought back to his last time on the beach with Bryce.
Before he could put the brakes on, his mind put all the fucking pieces together. What he might have had if this had all worked out the right way. What Laura stole by lying to him.
He’d had a shot at a second son.
A shot he could no longer risk taking.
11
Laura fought the tears. She had to go back inside, to her son. The last thing she needed was for him to see her falling apart. She had just told herself last night that she was screwing this up. She knew after their time on the beach that she needed to say something at some point. She couldn’t envision the right time, which was a clear indicator that the time had passed.
She had waited too long.
And now Jack hated her.
She found Maureen at the table, the mess cleaned up, everything thrown away, and Bryce entertained with her tablet.
“How did it go?”
Unable to say the words without losing it, Laura bit her lip and shook her head.
“Well, shit.”
“You said a bad word,” Bryce said.
“Yes, well, you just pretend you didn’t hear it. Don’t be a potty mouth like your auntie,” Maureen said, pinching his cheek. “Now, why don’t you say goodbye to Mommy so she can go to work, and you and I will head to the park and burn off that army of sugar invading your tiny little body.”
Bryce giggled, hopped off his chair, and hugged Laura. “You look sad, Mommy.”
“Maybe a little bit, baby. I’m sad I’ll miss the park,” Laura lied.
“Jack didn’t say goodbye to me.”