Finding Forever

by Nika Rhone

  “Oh, God!” Her hips bucked as he sealed his lips around the sensitive bud of her clitoris and gently suckled. She gasped in a deep breath, certain she was about to die from the pleasure, then let the breath out in a shaky moan when he let up on the suction and gently licked his way back down between her thighs. Never, never had she felt anything like that.

  And then suddenly it felt even better. As he licked back up to her clitoris, the tip of his finger rubbed along her folds before gently pressing into her. The sensation was pure bliss. Unable to keep from moving, her hips rocked against the intrusion, taking his finger even deeper. A second digit followed, and then a third, until finally the whole universe was focused on the place where he was alternately stroking and suckling and licking and thrusting, where between one stroke and the next everything exploded in a fiery ball of ecstasy that had her bowing her back and letting out sounds she only later hoped hadn’t carried past the closed bedroom door.

  The sensation was indescribable. Euphoric. Exquisite enough that she nearly burst into tears. Only knowing Daryl wouldn’t understand they were tears of the very best kind kept her from doing it. She closed her eyes and wallowed in the warm aftershocks that erupted every time he moved his fingers, which were still inside her.

  Finally, slowly, she came down from the stratosphere and settled back into her body. “You’ve killed me,” she murmured, cracking her eyes open to look down her body at him. “I’m dead now.”

  “Oh, no. We’re not even close to being finished.” Withdrawing his fingers made her squirm one last time. As he watched her watching him, he licked the taste of her from each digit. It should have embarrassed her. Instead, it made her blood burn hotter and her body hum again. He might not be finished with her, but she definitely wasn’t finished with him yet, either.

  As Daryl rose to his knees, her eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to where he fisted himself with one hand, stroking along the dark-veined shaft, spreading some of her wetness along his length as he did. The primitive fear of “how can that possibly fit?” poked at the sensual fog that wrapped her brain, trying to find a way through, but she was so languorous under the effects of the very first orgasm that wasn’t self-produced she couldn’t find it in her to get all that worried about it. This was Daryl. He wouldn’t hurt her. She trusted him.

  She trusted him.

  What a heady, terrifying, freeing feeling.

  “I want you.”

  “I think it’s pretty damn obvious the feeling’s mutual.” Grinning, he lowered himself to her, teasing the tip of his erection along her folds, until it was pressed to the entrance of her vagina, which was still pulsing erratically. Suddenly, he stopped, his entire body going rigid. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He lowered his head as though he were in pain.

  “Daryl, what’s wrong?”

  “Protection,” he growled. “I don’t have any with me.”

  She blinked at him, not certain she’d heard him right. “You…what?”

  “I don’t usually plan for sex while I’m working.”

  Didn’t guys always carry one in their wallets? Or was that just something that only happened in books and movies? “Maybe there’s still some left in the bathroom from whenever you were here last?” Because seriously, stopping now was inconceivable.

  “This is my parents’ house. I never brought women here.” He sounded offended at the thought.

  “Sorry.” Patting his shoulder, she wondered briefly if he realized that he’d just included Kim as one of his parents for the very first time. Probably not. There were other, more urgent issues at hand. “Maybe Winona left some…well, no, never mind,” she said when he gave her a look that said “really?”

  “I don’t believe this.” He let out a painful half-laugh. “I’m never…I’m sorry.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I am so, so sorry. I should have—”

  “I’m on the pill.” She blurted it out, cutting off his apology and, she feared, his withdrawal.

  He stilled. “You are.” Not a question but a need to be certain.

  Amelia nodded. “Since I—” She bit off the got engaged part. Talking about going on birth control in anticipation of having sex with another man, even if he was your ex-fiancé, wasn’t exactly the best pillow talk. “Since last year.”

  Daryl seemed to consider the implications. “I’ve never not worn a condom,” he said finally. Meaning he wasn’t at risk from past partners, and, therefore, neither was she.

  “And I’ve never…” Unbelievable after all they’d already done, but she felt her face start to warm at the thought of confessing her virginity out loud. Thankfully, she didn’t need to say the words because he gave a quick nod of understanding.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” She backed it up by sliding her legs around his muscular thighs and pulling him toward her.

  “Are you sure?” he asked even as the tip of his penis probed at her entrance again. “The pill isn’t a hundred percent, you know.”

  “Neither are condoms.”

  “But…”

  She reached up and curled her hands around his shoulders, letting her nails sink in until she was certain she had his full attention. “You. Inside me. Now.”

  He took her at her word. The probing became a gentle thrusting, which reignited the sensitive nerve endings and made the sensations all the more intense. He was gentle, but he was big, she was tight, and it took more than a little patience before he finally made the stroke that seated him all the way inside.

  It was even better than what he’d done with his mouth and fingers. Everywhere he touched her throbbed, and with every inward thrust, he went so deep she felt a small, extra burst of sensation as he touched the very end of her.

  She wanted to participate. Honest to God she did. But she was so bombarded by the sensations whipping through her all she could do was hang on and offer gasping whimpers of encouragement as his tempo increased. She’d never seen a more beautiful sight than Daryl’s stark expression as he held himself above her, his lower body pounding into hers in a dance of muscle and glistening skin while he drove her higher and higher toward another of those amazing orgasms.

  “Oh, God,” she gasped when the pinnacle approached. Like a mad roller coaster ride she fell over the edge and went into freefall, keening her exaltation as she went. Daryl’s shout and the last, deep thrust he gave told her he’d followed her over. He collapsed a minute later, managing to angle his body and not crush her. The sigh he breathed against her neck tickled, making her realize her entire body was now highly sensitized and responsive to his touch.

  “That was…” She had no words.

  “Yeah, that was.” He kissed her neck and shifted a little more to the side to give her more room.

  She wiggled closer in response. The last thing she wanted right now was distance of any kind between them. Putting a hand on his chest, she felt the rapid drumming of his heart. Good to know she wasn’t the only one. Her own heart was beating so fast it felt like a hummingbird trapped beneath her breastbone.

  They lay in each other’s embrace, catching their breath, until finally Daryl said, “We took a big risk. We can’t do this again without proper protection.”

  Part of her was elated that he planned for them to do this again, but she felt compelled to say, “I told you, I’m taking birth control.”

  “I know. I just don’t want to have any surprises. My parents only got married because my mom was pregnant with me. My sister’s in the same damn boat. And I was only a kid at the time, but I think Winnie was a little big for a preemie.” He didn’t sound bitter, simply matter-of-fact. “I thought it might be nice for one of us to break the trend of marrying out of responsibility and trying for love instead.”

  It was both strange and delightful to hear a man talking about love. Usually they shied away from the mere thought, as if to talk about it was like calling Beetlejuice’s name too many times and cursing yourself with its prese
nce.

  “Well,” she said, carefully, “from what I’ve seen, your father and Kim are very much in love. Whether he did or didn’t when they got married, he’s certainly crazy about her now, and vice versa.”

  Daryl merely grunted.

  “I can tell you Winnie is head-over-heels sick in love with Kyle, and I doubt that has anything to do with the baby.”

  “But does he love her back, or will he only feel trapped into marrying her once he finds out she’s carrying his child?”

  A worry Winona seemed to share, since she’d gone to such lengths to keep her pregnancy from Kyle until he popped the question on his own.

  “Like how your father felt with your mother?” She was venturing into dangerous territory. Daryl seemed to consider his mother off-limits.

  To his credit, he gave it some thought before answering. “I think he loved her. Or, at least, he grew to love her. I’m not so sure she ever loved him back, though. Not the way he wanted her to.” He shrugged. “Not that it really matters.”

  Obviously, it mattered very much; otherwise, he wouldn’t be quite so fixated on the issue. But there was nothing to gain from pursuing the matter. Whatever hang-ups Daryl had developed were very firmly entrenched in his earliest memories of a dysfunctional marriage, and nothing she said was going to change them. Besides, who was she to talk about love and marriage, anyway?

  “Can I ask you something?” Daryl rubbed his thumb in slow circles where it rested against her back.

  “Sure.”

  “Why aren’t you teaching? From what I saw the other day, you’re a natural.”

  The unexpected praise warmed her. “I had a job all lined up last year, but then…things happened.” Charles happened. She’d gotten so swept up in him and his whirlwind courtship she’d let him talk her into resigning her position before she ever got started. So she could concentrate on the wedding.

  What a naïve idiot she’d been.

  Well, not anymore. From now on, she took charge of her own life, her own future. Her own happiness. And right now, that meant getting away from any discussion that included her butthead ex-fiancé, and back to the one thing that had the ability to make her very happy indeed.

  Touching a finger to the faint scar that ran along Daryl’s left ribcage, she asked, “How did you get this?” The muscles in his abdomen rippled in response. Interesting.

  “Uh.” He glanced down at the scar as though he’d never seen it before. “That one…a horse threw me into a fence during my first rodeo. Not my most shining moment,” he added with a self-deprecating smirk.

  She winced in sympathy. “And this one?” She caressed the short, thick patch of scar tissue that broke up the otherwise beautiful symmetry of his left biceps.

  “A very pissed off bull who didn’t appreciate me trying to ruin his record as unrideable.”

  “And did you?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Hmm.” Given Daryl’s tenacious nature, she was pretty sure of the answer. She bit her lip and traced a long, pale line that nearly bisected his right nipple. “And this?”

  “Are you going to catalogue every one of my scars?” He grasped her questing finger and brought it to his mouth to nip. “Because if so, we could be here for a while.”

  She shivered at the reaction that tiny bite of pain caused. “I don’t have anywhere else to be, do you?”

  Grinning, he pressed a kiss to her palm before rolling her under him again, his rapidly hardening erection pressed tight to her belly. “So let me tell you about this bull…”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The woman was insatiable.

  Grinning as he stepped under the showerhead, Daryl wondered if all virgins went sex crazy their first time or if he’d just gotten extremely lucky. He tipped his head back and let the water run over his face and soak his hair. Lucky? Hell, he’d hit the goddamned jackpot.

  Of course, he hadn’t realized Amelia was a virgin at the time. Not until it was too late to stop and change their pace, even if she’d been inclined to let him. Which, judging by the sting on his shoulders where her tiny little claws had dug in, she had not. At the time, he’d taken her “I’ve never” to mean she’d never taken a man bareback before. Hell, he’d never taken a woman bare before, either, not even in his wild rodeo days of anything-goes-sex. Just the thought of it had pretty well demolished any ability for rational thought.

  No, the thought of taking Amelia skin-to-skin had demolished him.

  Lathering up, he cursed himself for his own lack of willpower. After that first time, he should have stuck to his guns and not doubled-down on the risk they were taking of relying solely on her oral contraceptive. But they’d not only doubled, but tripled-down, waking up in the early hours of the morning for a slow, almost tantric bout of sex before drifting back off to sleep again wrapped comfortably in each other’s arms.

  Not that he didn’t believe her when she said she was on the pill. Amelia Westlake might be a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. No, it was the overwhelming fertility and consistent bad luck of his entire family that concerned him. While condoms weren’t exactly foolproof either, they were at least one more barrier between a night of fun and a lifetime of consequence. No kid wanted to be reminded they were a mistake.

  That, he knew firsthand.

  But for some reason, the fear of perpetuating his family’s mistakes faded into the background every time Amelia reached for him last night. The only thing he’d been thinking about was the glorious silk of her skin and the welcoming warmth of her mouth. And other places. The sex might have been rather tame and vanilla compared to some of the things he’d done in the past, but it had also been the hottest and most soul-scorching he’d ever experienced. Every touch, every kiss, had been a building block that forged the experience into something he still wasn’t entirely certain he understood the ramifications of.

  Which was why he’d slipped out of bed just a little while ago, leaving Amelia sleeping, her blonde mass of curls a tangled curtain across his pillow. The same curls that had tickled his thighs and balls as she showed him just how creative she could get with that pretty little mouth of hers. For a virgin, his Amy was a damn tigress in bed.

  His Amy.

  He had to stop thinking of her like that. She wasn’t his, and she wasn’t Amy. She was Amelia freaking Westlake. The Princess. The job. But somehow, the reminders that had once worked to keep that illusion of unbreachable distance between them fell flat and useless when he tried to invoke them now. It wasn’t the job or the Princess he’d had in his bed last night. It had been the woman. The one he’d come to admire, and to desire much more than he should. Because they were living in a bubble right now, one that isolated them from the rest of the world and created illusions of false possibilities.

  Once that bubble popped, once they were back in the real world again, everything they’d had between them would be over. Amy would cease to exist. There would be only Amelia, and Daryl had no place in that woman’s life.

  He should have been okay with that. Sex with a beautiful woman didn’t equal a relationship. He’d spent his entire adult life proving that fact. He did hook-ups and short-term only, but even those had been fewer and farther between recently. As much as he hated to admit it, he was getting a little too old to continue enjoying that lifestyle. All he had to do was look at Chaz to know while he’d once admired and emulated the man, Daryl didn’t want to be him. All alone, with no family, and no one or nothing to call his own. Chaz talked a good game, but Daryl had seen the bitter loneliness that lurked just under the clownish smile.

  But that didn’t mean a future with Amelia was an option. He’d treasure these last few days they still had together, storing the memories of last night away like a miser hoarding gold, but come next week, he’d let her go back to her life without doing anything to try and change her mind. After the hell of living with parents who would make Machiavelli cry like a little girl, she deserved to be happy. And much as he migh
t wish differently, that didn’t mean him.

  The shower curtain parted, and Amelia stepped inside, blowing every other thought out of his head as she smiled that naughty smile he was coming to recognize so well. “Hi.”

  He made a noise that wasn’t quite a word, but damn, who could think when faced with the naked goddess who’d intruded on his shower? Amelia didn’t seem to care. In fact, her smile broadened, as though she liked that she could revert him to caveman status. Biting that succulent lip of hers, she glanced down at his cock, which was quickly rising to the occasion despite his decision not to continue taking risks.

  The gleam in her eyes when she looked back up at him was enough to make him throw reason to the wind and swoop down to claim her mouth with his, pushing her against the cool tile wall as he plundered deep with his tongue.

  What the hell. One more time would probably kill them both, but at least they’d both die happy.

  ****

  When the next attempt on Amelia came, it didn’t emerge from the shadows or the dark of night. It came driving down the driveway in a rented silver sedan just before lunchtime.

  Alerted to the approaching car by Manuelo, Daryl was waiting out on the front porch, shoulder leaning against the post near the stairs, phone to his ear when it pulled to a stop. Amelia was tucked out of sight inside the house with his father. She hadn’t liked the order, but at least she’d been smart enough to accept it without argument.

  A minute passed before the driver’s door opened. The man who emerged wasn’t either of the ones who had tried to strong-arm Amy into their car the other day. Daryl stayed where he was, his position on the top step not only strategic high ground, but a statement. The stranger would come to Daryl for anything he wanted, not the other way around.