Trinity Falls

by Regina Hart

  Ean planted a butterfly kiss behind her ear. “Your skin is so soft.”

  Megan sighed. The third button came undone.

  He stroked his tongue along the side of her neck. “You taste so sweet.”

  Megan moaned. The fourth button released. Ean trailed kisses to the curves of her breasts. As he peeled the jacket from her, her bra snapped free. How . . . ? Who cared?

  Ean kissed and licked his way across her breasts, then opened his mouth and took her nipple.

  Megan gasped. The fire at her core burst into an inferno. She cupped Ean’s head closer to her as his teeth grazed her nipple. His tongue licked. His lips tugged. The pull carried deep inside her to echo between her legs. She needed to end this pressure. She wanted to feed this ache. She offered her other breast for Ean’s attention. Her hunger swelled.

  “Ean.” She panted his name. “Protection?”

  Ean raised his head. Through the fog of her desire, Megan noted his tense expression and the glow in his olive eyes. He was hungry, too.

  “My wallet.”

  “Get it. Now. Please.”

  He’d been confident. Thank God.

  They made quick work of kicking off shoes and stripping the rest of their clothes. Megan was mesmerized by the strength of Ean’s passion. Her nipples tightened. Her body moistened in response.

  Ean took the condom from his wallet with hands that weren’t quite steady. He turned to her. He wanted to take it slow. He wanted this to be a night to linger. He ached to touch and taste her . . . everywhere. He wanted to learn what she liked. He wanted to deepen her pleasure. But he didn’t think he could last that long. Just looking at Megan’s long, graceful figure drew him to the edge. He loved her small, perfect breasts, her hands, her feet. But it was her eyes that drew him. He could gaze into those large chocolate pools for an eternity.

  Megan took the condom from him, then dropped to her knees. Ean’s eyes widened. He’d never expected this. His pulse quickened. His muscles grew even more tense. With her gaze locked with his, Megan guided him into her mouth. It was hot and wet. And hot. Megan’s tongue slid along his length. A tremor rolled from his toes to the top of his head. Straining for control, Ean closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He needed to rest his hands on her shoulders to steady his shaky legs. His body moved as she drew him into a rhythm with her lips and her tongue. Her hot, wet tongue. His breathing became ragged. His body began to burn.

  No! Not yet. Ean forced himself to step back, freeing himself from her mouth. “No more.” His words were a desperate gasp for control.

  Megan stood and grinned at him. “Can’t you handle it?”

  Ean was surprised he could laugh. It helped him gain some control over his arousal. “I want to come inside you.” He took the condom from her, then lifted her into his arms. “But not yet.”

  “Where are we going?” Megan glanced around as he carried her toward the staircase.

  “That floor doesn’t look all that comfortable for what I have in mind.” Although it was torture, holding Megan naked in his arms when he was fully erect. He should have thought of that before he’d let her make love to him with her mouth. Ean groaned.

  Megan kissed his neck and whispered into his ear, “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’ll show you.” Ean mounted the staircase.

  Megan chuckled. “Lucky for you, my room is right at the top of the stairs.”

  “Thank God.”

  Ean released her beside her bed, letting her skin rub against his. Megan climbed onto the mattress, drawing him with her. Ean lay beside her. He touched each breast, then trailed his fingers down her abdomen to her hip. “You are so beautiful. Perfect.”

  “I want to touch you.” Megan raised her arm.

  “Not yet.” Ean caught her wrist and drew her arm above her head.

  He lowered his mouth to graze and suckle first one breast, then the other. Megan squirmed beside him until he stopped. Ean rolled away, quickly securing the condom before returning to her side.

  His hand hovered above her nest of curls. Ean traced his index finger through the soft patch, pressing against her core. He fed on each gasp and moan as he explored her. Each tremor.

  Megan spread her legs wider. “Ean, come in me.”

  “Soon.” He kissed each nipple again, then slid down her body. With his eyes holding hers, Ean separated her folds, then he licked her treasure.

  Megan’s hips shot off the bed. “Ean!”

  He kissed her deeply. And continued kissing and licking her as her muscles grew tighter and tighter in the palms of his hands. Her hips pumped in his grasp. A fine sheet of sweat glistened on her naked body. Her breaths panted. Her body twisted. Her passion flowed. Ean’s erection hardened to an almost painful point. When her body began to shake, he sought his own release. Ean raised himself above her, then slid deep inside her core. Megan gasped. The sound surrounded him.

  Ean groaned, hanging his head as he braced his weight on his arms. She feels. So. Damn. Good. He savored the feeling washing over him. It was what he’d been looking for. What he’d been wanting. Home. He’d never made that connection during lovemaking before. Somehow he knew he never would again. Ean raised his head to meet Megan’s gaze. The wonder in her chocolate eyes told him she’d felt it, too.

  He picked up their pace, arching his back to sink farther into her damp secrets. Megan pressed her hips against his, harder, matching him thrust for thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist to hold him tighter, still. Her eyes closed. Her cheeks flushed. Ean dipped his head and suckled a pebbled nipple into his mouth.

  Megan stiffened. Her muscles tightened around his erection. Ean felt her quivering deep inside as her pleasure burst. She pressed her head back into the pillow and screamed. He cut off the sound with a deep, hungering kiss. Ean gathered her close as the waves crashed over them.

  Much later, Megan lay on her back in the bed, pressing the comforter to her breasts. She met Ean’s gaze as he sat on the edge of the mattress. His magnificent body was clothed again—more’s the pity. He set his palms on either side of her shoulders.

  “No regrets.” His rough voice sent shivers down her spine.

  Megan traced the chiseled lines of his cheek, then let her hand drop. “Only that you’re leaving.”

  He touched his lips to hers, hard and quick. Too quick. “I don’t want people talking about us, at least not yet.”

  She arched a brow. “You don’t think they’ll know what we did tonight?”

  Ean stood. His movements were gratifyingly reluctant. “If I leave now, they’ll wonder. If I spend the night, they’ll know.”

  “If you say so.” Megan tossed off the comforter and rose from the mattress. The chill air puckered her nipples. “I’ll walk you out.”

  She stretched her arms above her head and arched her back.

  “You’re killing me.” Ean sounded as though he were choking.

  His reaction wasn’t a surprise. She’d wanted it. Megan glanced over at him. His hot, hungry gaze followed the profile of her figure. Her skin burned where his eyes touched her.

  “You don’t have to leave.”

  Ean pivoted from her and crossed to the door. “Yes, I do.”

  Stubborn man.

  Megan grabbed a robe from her closet and hurried after him. Ean was shrugging into his coat when she entered the foyer.

  “What time are you moving into your townhome tomorrow?”

  “First thing in the morning.” He pulled her close to kiss her again.

  It was an urgent meeting of tongues. A touch to remind them of the hours they’d just shared. A taste that would sustain them throughout the rest of the night. Megan groaned low in her throat. Why wouldn’t he just spend the night? To hell with chivalry. She’d tried reasoning with him earlier, but his mind had been made up by the time he’d rolled out of her bed.

  Ean stepped back. “I’d better go.”

  “Don’t expect me to dream about you.” Megan crossed her arms un
der her breasts and pouted. “I guess, then, I’ll probably bump into you sometime tomorrow.”

  Ean gave her a half smile. “I’ll cook dinner for you.”

  She gave him a dubious look. “Takeout?”

  He laughed. “I can cook.”

  She poked his flat abs. “You’re on.”

  “Sleep well.” He pulled the front door open and started down the stairs.

  “You too.” Megan locked the door and leaned against it. Regardless of what she’d told Ean, she would dream of him. Hopefully, she’d have many more opportunities on which to base her dreams . . . even long after he’d left Trinity Falls.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Does Quincy know you’re his new neighbor?” Darius grunted.

  Ean glanced briefly at his friend as Darius helped him carry his black leather sofa into the tan-and-white living room of his new town house Friday afternoon.

  “I didn’t tell him.” Ean wiped the sweat from his brow and straightened away from the furniture. It looked good in its new surroundings. What was even better, he’d only had to keep the furniture he’d brought from New York in storage for just over a month.

  “Are you going to tell him?” Darius dropped onto the sofa.

  “I’m sure we’ll run into each other sooner or later.” Ean sank onto the sofa’s other end.

  He and Darius had been working, more or less nonstop, since seven o’clock that morning. It was close to lunchtime, and they were almost done.

  Darius rolled his head on the sofa’s back to face Ean. “What are you going to say to him when that happens?”

  Ean swung his right ankle onto his left knee. “It’s not as though Trinity Falls has a lot of housing options.”

  “That’s true. You had only two choices—my condo development, where there’s no drama, and Quincy’s townhome complex, where you’ll have nothing but drama.”

  Ean spread his arms. “What’s he going to do? Have the management office kick me out because I broke up with the woman he’s in love with?”

  Darius shook his head. “It would go better if you confront the situation, instead of waiting for Quincy to trip over you.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.” Ean stood. “We’re almost done. Let’s get the rest of the stuff so we could finish before lunch.”

  Darius pushed himself off the sofa. “Now remind me again how this works? I take the day off from work to help you move your stuff, and you take Megan to dinner. Do I have that right?”

  Ean ignored Darius’s tone. “Who helped you move in and out of your dorm every year?”

  “That was ten years ago.”

  “My back has never been the same.” Ean led Darius outside to the driveway and well-manicured lawn. “But what are friends for?”

  “I could at least get an invitation to dinner.”

  “Three’s a crowd.”

  “Has anyone told Ramona you’ve moved?” Darius bent his knees to lift his end of the coffee table.

  Ean carried the table’s other end. “I’m not worried about Ramona.”

  Darius grunted. “Maybe you should be.”

  As he guided Darius back into the town house, he wondered whether his friend was right.

  When Ean opened his front door later that afternoon, he found his mother on his doorstep.

  Doreen lifted the bag of fast food and a drink carrier with two containers. “I come bearing gifts. Have you eaten?”

  With a grin, Ean stepped back to allow his mother to enter. “Perfect timing.” He locked the door behind her before escorting her farther into his new home.

  Doreen slowed to consider the newly furnished living room. The black leather sofa’s dominance was rivaled only by the large flat-screen black television.

  His mother nodded toward the TV. “That’s new.”

  Doreen’s voice wasn’t as disapproving as he’d expected. Ean’s parents had discouraged watching television. When he was growing up, his family’s set had been so small, if he’d actually wanted to see a televised sporting event, he’d had to go to Quincy’s house.

  Ean rubbed a hand over his mouth to mask a smile. “You’re welcome to come over to watch a football game anytime.”

  She inclined her head. “I may take you up on that.”

  Ean’s jaw dropped. Was she serious? How should he respond? He was still thinking about that when she walked away.

  His mother circled the heavy mahogany coffee table. She traced the matching end table beside the sofa. Its twin stood on the opposite side. Each table supported stone lamps in modern designs.

  His parents had helped him pick out his living-room set from a furniture store in Long Island. His father had saved him from his mother’s selections. Every set she chose had screamed, “My mommy decorated my condo.” Was she remembering that day? He’d never forget it.

  Ean cleared his throat. “That was a good day.”

  “Yes, it was.” Doreen gave him a soft smile over her shoulder. “Your things suit your new home perfectly.”

  “Yes, they do.” It was as though he was meant to be here.

  Doreen wandered toward the dining room and another furniture set on which he and his father had outvoted her. She unpacked the fast-food bag onto the table. “I brought your favorite—burger, fries and soda. Although, how you can eat this stuff and not get fat is beyond me.”

  He held the chair at the head of the table for his mother, then sank into a seat on her right. “I exercise. Besides, I don’t eat like this every day.”

  Doreen’s gaze remained fixed on her burger as she unwrapped it. “I’m concerned that you may have felt forced out of the house. You didn’t have to leave, if you weren’t ready.”

  Ean released his still-unwrapped burger and covered her hand with his. “I was ready, Mom. I’m thirty-two years old. I need a place of my own.”

  And so did she. Ean had heard footsteps creeping down the stairs the previous night after he’d settled into bed.

  “Are you sure?” Doreen’s brown eyes were dark with concern.

  “Positive.”

  A smile touched her eyes. “Good, then I can enjoy my meal.”

  Conversation about his move into the town house, her morning at Books & Bakery and the paperwork he needed to complete to establish his law practice carried them through their meal.

  “Another reason I like fast food.” Ean stood and crushed the remains of their lunch into the restaurant’s paper bag. “No dishes.”

  He crossed to the kitchen, which was a cozy nook beside the dining room, and stuffed the garbage into the large, black heavy-duty bag he’d designated for his move-in–day trash.

  Ean turned back toward the dining room—and paused. He rested his shoulder against the threshold between the kitchen nook and the dining area. He studied his mother, who was still seated at the table. “Mom, I’m glad you asked about the reason I moved out.”

  “So am I, Ean.” She shifted in her chair to face him.

  Doreen looked as though she’d turned back time. Her dark brown hair’s soft-layered cut highlighted her classic features. Her wardrobe—hot pink jersey, light blue jeans and powder white sneakers—was even more youthful.

  He took a deep breath; then he realized he was stalling. “I don’t like this awkwardness between us.”

  “Neither do I.”

  She sensed it, too? Was that bad or worse? “How do we get past it?”

  Doreen sighed. “It’ll take time, Ean. Frankly, your moving out will help. We haven’t lived together in fourteen years. You were a kid when you left home. You’re an adult now. We have to become reacquainted.”

  Ean’s eyebrows shot upward. “‘Reacquainted’? I’m your son.”

  Doreen smiled. “We were bound to have some conflict simply because our relationship will have to change now that you’re older.”

  Ean leaned more heavily against the wall. “I guess some changes aren’t so bad. I hadn’t realized when I returned to Trinity Falls, I’d open a practice here. I think it
was the right decision.”

  “I agree.”

  Was there reticence in her voice? Ean swallowed his disappointment. He pushed away from the wall to sit beside her again. “Then why do you sound like you don’t?”

  “Ean, I am happy for you. But you don’t need me anymore. Your father’s gone. What’s next for me?”

  The sadness on his mother’s face stabbed him in his heart. “What do you mean?”

  Her tormented brown eyes stretched wide in frustration. “I’m single again after more than forty years. That’s a lifetime. All of the decisions I used to make were as part of a couple. Now I have to make them by myself. I don’t know who I am anymore or what I want to do. I’m still trying to figure out my next step. And the biggest decision—what do I want to do with the rest of my life—I thought I’d already made. I wanted to spend it with Paul.”

  Doreen buried her face in her hands and dissolved into muffled sobs. Ean was undone. He sprang to his feet and frantically scanned the area. He hadn’t unpacked. He didn’t have any tissues. What should he . . . ?

  Ean jogged into the bathroom and returned with the liberated roll of toilet paper. “I’m sorry.”

  Doreen accepted his offering with both hands. “This is fine. I don’t even know why I’m crying.” She used the quilted tissue to dry her eyes and blow her nose. “Your father and I built a good life. We raised a wonderful son.” She squeezed his arm and gave him a watery smile as he towered above her. “He’s not in pain any longer. I don’t have any reason to be sad.”

  Ean dragged his chair closer before sitting. He took both of his mother’s hands in his. “You’re crying because you miss him. I miss him, too.”

  Doreen drew one hand from Ean’s grasp and cupped the side of his face. “He was so proud of you.”

  “And I’m proud of both of you. Look at what you’ve already accomplished, Mom. The bakery’s a huge success.”

  “A bakery is a thing, Ean. It doesn’t need me. If I walked away from it tomorrow, no one would notice.”