The Last Goodbye

by Sarah Mayberry

  “Why did you come here tonight?”

  It took him a moment to answer, and when he did he was deliberately offhand. “I don’t know. I needed to get out of the house.”

  She shook her head, refusing to let him retreat. “You said yourself you could have gone to the pub. Or you could have left, gone back to Melbourne. You have friends there, I know. You could have done a million other things. But you came to me.”

  He stared at her, his gaze intent. She stared back, unflinching.

  “That’s why I kissed you, Tyler. For the same reason you came to me.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You said you weren’t interested.”

  “I did say that.” She offered him the ghost of a smile. “You should probably know that I don’t have the greatest track record when it comes to making decisions in my personal life.”

  “Ally, I need…” He shook his head, unable to articulate what he needed, what he wanted. Why he’d come to her.

  “I know. That’s what I need, too.”

  Even though it scared the living daylights out of her.

  She leaned forward and kissed him again and this time his mouth opened beneath hers and his arms encircled her. His kiss was demanding, consuming, undeniable. Which was fine with her, because she didn’t want to deny him. Not anymore. She wanted to hold him close, for him to be a part of her body. She wanted to love and comfort and soothe him.

  She made an approving noise and clutched at his shoulders, her fingers digging into the warm flesh of his back. Tyler answered by intensifying the kiss, scooping her body closer so that she was positioned between his open thighs, her breasts pressed against his chest.

  The kiss deepened, grew more fiery. Hands began to rove, sliding beneath T-shirts, gliding over skin. Ally groaned as his hands found her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples. Tyler started drawing her tank top up her torso, muttering something against her lips.

  “Sorry?” she said.

  “I need to see you,” he said, and she lifted her arms obediently as he tugged her top over her head.

  His gaze fell on her breasts, hot and needy. She reached behind herself to undo the clasp on her bra. Her bra loosened, then slid down her arms. Tyler’s gaze swept from one breast to the other, then his hands slid up to cup her bare flesh.

  “Beautiful,” he said, his voice low with desire.

  She tugged at his T-shirt. “Fair’s fair.”

  He had it off in seconds, and the next thing she knew she was on her back on the rug, Tyler on top of her. His chest was hot and hard against her breasts, the press of skin on skin satisfying and arousing all at once. She could feel his erection against her belly, could feel how ready he was, and she instinctively parted her thighs. He came to rest between them, his hard-on pressing against her through the soft fabric of her yoga pants. She shifted her hips restlessly, increasing the pressure, then he lowered his head and took a nipple into his mouth and she arched away from the floor, moaning low in her throat as sensation shot through her body.

  Her fingers wove into the thickness of his hair and gripped tightly, holding him in place as he licked and sucked and tongued her breasts. She shivered, desire building on desire until the craving to have him inside her overcame every other consideration.

  “Take your jeans off,” she panted, reaching for the stud at his waist.

  She worked it free, only to find more buttons. She groaned with frustration and tugged the buttons free from the soft denim with impatient hands. She pushed his jeans and underwear down his hips and he lifted his hips obligingly, taking his weight on his elbows while he kicked off the pants. She pressed her palm flat against his chest, then slid it boldly down the plane of his chest and belly until she encountered the thick length of his erection. Her fingers wrapped around the velvety skin, stroking, learning the length and breadth of him.

  Tyler swore under his breath, then she felt a tug at her waist as he rolled away from her and started peeling her yoga pants down her legs. Within seconds she was naked and he was on top of her again, his erection nudging at the slick wetness between her legs.

  Her hands found his backside, urging him closer, but he resisted.

  “Condom.” He started to pull away, reaching for his jeans.

  She shook her head, halting his retreat. “I’m on the Pill. And I trust you.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust her hips forward in silent invitation. All hesitation was gone as he slid home in one long, wet glide. Ally gave a little whimper at how perfect and hot and hard he felt.

  Even though she wanted—needed—him to move inside her, even though she could feel the quivering tension in him, he remained still, buried to the hilt. He kissed her, his tongue teasing hers, his lips demanding, his arms banding tightly around her as he marked the moment indelibly in both their memories.

  The first time they became one. The first moment of intimate connection.

  He broke the kiss, using his elbows to take his weight as he pulled back enough to look into her eyes. He framed her face with his hands, tracing her cheekbones with his thumbs as they lay chest to chest, belly to belly, hip to hip.

  “Ally.”

  Only then did he start to move, setting up a slow, inexorable rhythm, inviting her to join in. And all the while he stared into her eyes.

  She got lost in the myriad silvers and grays of his irises, lost in the thrust and withdrawal of his body and the crazy-making friction building between them.

  It didn’t take long for need to overwhelm everything else. There was too much fire, too much longing, too much emotion. She started to pant, clawing at Tyler’s back, making inarticulate noises as her climax swept toward her. He lowered his head and pulled her nipple into his mouth, his other hand sliding between their bodies to find the damp curls at the juncture of her thighs.

  She tensed as his thumb brushed over her. Her body clenched around him. Then he caressed her again and she came, his name on her lips, her body bowing off the rug.

  He murmured encouragement near her ear, riding out her orgasm, milking the last shudder from her. Then and only then did he give himself over to the moment, his thrusts becoming wilder, more urgent. She urged him on with her hands and her body. He thrust deeply one last time, then he pressed his cheek against hers and his breath came out in a heated rush as he climaxed.

  For a brief moment he was deadweight on her as he relaxed against her. Then he stirred and started to roll to one side.

  “Not yet. Stay with me,” she said.

  He stilled, looking into her face. “I’m not exactly a lightweight.”

  She smiled slightly. “I like it.”

  His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t try to withdraw. He pressed his cheek to hers again, his weight settling on her. She flattened her palms against his back and smoothed her hands over him, mapping the breadth and strength of his shoulders, tracing the long, lean muscles either side of his spine, curving her fingers over the resilient roundness of his backside. The hair on the backs of his thighs was crisp and soft, the muscles there very firm, while the skin over his hips was as smooth as silk.

  He was beautiful, inside and out. Masculine to the bone, with a big, finely hewn body, his outward strength matched only by his tender, generous soul.

  She rested her hand in the center of his chest, feeling the thump-thump of his heart and the rush of his blood as his body cooled. She could smell their mingled sweat and the earthy scent of sex and, beneath that, the sunshine warmth of Tyler’s skin.

  “I’m an idiot,” she said very quietly.

  He turned his head to look at her. “How so?”

  “If I hadn’t been so stupid, we could have done this days ago.”

  “Ah.”

  She waited for him to say more but he didn’t.

  “That’s all you have to say? Ah?”

  “I’m being diplomatic.”

  He was smiling, his eyes warm, his body relaxed and loose.

  She smoothed a lock of
hair from his forehead, glad that, for the moment, the shadows were gone from his eyes. He deserved a little lightness, a little happiness after the darkness of his recent past.

  “You know what would make this moment perfect?” she said.

  “What?”

  “Ice cream.”

  He laughed, then slowly the smile faded from his lips. “Ally Bishop. Where have you been all my life?”

  She smoothed his hair again, her chest aching with emotions she wasn’t even close to being ready to acknowledge. “Waiting.”

  Then she nudged him gently and he rolled to the side.

  “Nuts About Chocolate or raspberry ripple or both?” she asked, her tone deliberately light as she pushed herself to her feet.

  “Is that a trick question?”

  She smiled and went to find the ice cream.

  TYLER WOKE TO THE SCENT of vanilla and spice. A warm body curled beside him on the bed, soft and rounded in all the right places.

  Ally.

  They were spooned together, her back to his front, his arm around her waist. He could feel the regular rise and fall of her breathing, and for long minutes he simply lay there, enjoying the intimacy of close human contact, the comfort of skin on skin.

  She’d saved his sanity tonight. He’d been half out of his mind after the fight with his father. The urge to follow his father into his room, to grab him by the throat and force him to acknowledge his own brutality had been almost overwhelming. But Tyler had never used violence to get his own way. So instead he’d found himself on the street, his keys in hand, thoughts of escaping to Melbourne and his home and his life in his mind. He’d made it into the truck, put his seat belt on—but he hadn’t been able to make himself start the engine.

  He’d been utterly lost then. He couldn’t go, he couldn’t stay. Somehow, he’d wound up on Ally’s doorstep. From the moment she’d opened the door, her calm, ready acceptance had been like a balm. She’d simply waited and the words had come.

  It was the first time he’d told anyone about his child hood. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but she hadn’t reeled in horror or broken down in tears or insisted on calling the police. She’d listened. She’d asked all the right questions. And when he’d lost it, she’d offered him the wordless comfort of her arms.

  Humiliating to admit how much he’d needed it. He was a grown man, with a life of his own. All this stuff with his father had happened years ago. The old man should have no power over him anymore.

  Yet Tyler hadn’t been able to drive away.

  That was the part that got him the most. The tears he could live with. Just. But for the life of him he couldn’t understand why he felt compelled to stay, why, even now, lying in his lover’s bed, a part of him worried that his father was in the house alone when he wasn’t fully recovered from his operation.

  Because Tyler was weak? Because his father still had some kind of hold over him? What kind of man took so much crap and still refused to walk away?

  The tension had returned in his chest and belly. Ally stirred in her sleep and he realized he’d tightened his grip on her. Gently he eased away from her, rolling onto his back. One hand propped behind his head, he stared at the ceiling, trying to understand himself.

  “Roll over and I’ll rub your shoulders.”

  He turned his head to find Ally watching him, the concern in her big brown eyes discernible even in the dim light.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  “I can sleep anytime.” She reached out and smoothed a hand over his chest. “It’s not every day I offer ice cream and a free back rub. It’s a pretty good deal.”

  He smiled faintly, catching her hand and lifting it to his mouth. He kissed her fingers. “Some other time, thanks.”

  He was way too wound up to relax into a massage, his brain churning.

  “I know you’re not big on talking, but sometimes it does help.”

  “Women always say that.”

  “Because it’s true. Crying helps, too, but I know I’ll never get you to concede on that one.”

  “No kidding.”

  She didn’t say anything more, simply pressed her body alongside his and rested her head on his shoulder. There was nothing demanding or expectant about her silence—she was simply there, available and open. After a long few minutes Tyler took a deep breath.

  “I wanted to go tonight. Wanted to get in my truck and drive and leave him to work it out for himself. But I couldn’t. And I don’t know why.”

  “Don’t you?” Ally shifted so she could look him in the eye. “Do you want me to tell you?”

  When he didn’t say anything, she reached out and ran a finger along the stubble on his jaw, her touch light. “Because you couldn’t drive off and leave an old, sick man on his own. That’s why.”

  He knew it was true, but he didn’t like it. “I should be able to. After everything he’s done. He deserves worse. He deserves to die alone.”

  “I’m sure he does. But you’re not like him.” Her eyes were depthless, soft as velvet. “You’re a loving, compassionate man, Tyler Adamson. It’s a miracle, given what he did to you, but you are. You’re a good, good man.”

  There was so much warmth and emotion in her gaze. Tyler looked away, uncomfortable. Growing up, being hard had been the only value worth aspiring to, both to withstand his father’s attacks and to prove to himself that he wasn’t a victim. As a grown man, he’d prided himself on needing nothing and nobody and solving his own problems, righting his own wrongs.

  “You think being compassionate is a sign of weakness, don’t you?” Ally asked.

  He shrugged noncommittally. Ally might not be a trained psychologist, but she was bloody good at putting her finger on the heart of things at times.

  She pressed a kiss to his mouth. “It takes great courage and strength of character to be generous when you have every reason to be otherwise. You’re the strongest man I know, Tyler. I wish I was half as strong.”

  He traced the delicate arch of one of her eyebrows. What she was saying was flattering but it went against every lesson of his life. She turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm.

  “I know there’s nothing I can say to convince you. But I hope you believe me one day.”

  Because he didn’t know how to respond, Tyler rolled toward her and slid a hand up her belly toward her breasts. She made a small, pleased sound as he cupped the warm weight of her in his hand.

  She had a very sexy body, soft and curvy, full-breasted. Her skin was smooth and clear, her nipples a pale pink, like the blush inside a seashell. He circled them with his thumbs, watching as they hardened to arousal.

  “You’re setting a dangerous precedent here, you realize. Twice in one night,” she said.

  He smiled. Then he set himself to the task of proving to her exactly how dangerous he could be.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ALLY WOKE AT EIGHT TO find the bed empty beside her. She blinked, then a slow smile spread across her face as she remembered last night.

  Tyler, making love to her. Insatiable. Intense. Gorgeous.

  Then she remembered the catalyst for their encounter and her smile faded. Last night had been…incredible, but it hadn’t changed the world. Bob was still next door, and he still needed care. Tyler’s ordeal was far from over.

  The difference, though, was that she knew now, and the days of keeping her distance were over. She would do whatever she could to ease Tyler’s burden. Whatever it took.

  A footfall in the hallway drew her head around. Tyler appeared in the doorway with a glass of juice and a plate of toast. She blinked in surprise. She’d assumed he’d gone next door.

  “I didn’t know whether you’d prefer jam or peanut butter, so I did a piece with each.” He was wearing nothing except his boxer briefs and she tried not to stare too obviously.

  Last night, she’d been too busy ripping his clothes off to truly appreciate how beautifully he was put together. Now, her gaze ran over his square sh
oulders, well-defined pectoral muscles, flat belly and narrow hips. His thighs were muscular without being ridiculous, his calves a triumph of proportion. He was easily the sexiest, most masculine man she’d ever been with.

  She swallowed a lump of pure lust.

  “I like both. But you didn’t have to make me breakfast.”

  “I was hungry. It seemed a little rude to pig out solo.” He sat on the bed and passed her the juice.

  She straightened and took a big mouthful. “What are your plans for the day?”

  His gaze dropped to her breasts for a gratifyingly rapt second before he selected a piece of toast. “I need to check on Dad. And I promised Gabby I would get these designs to her by the end of the day.”

  “You can work here, if you’d like. I know you find it hard to concentrate over there.” She took another gulp of juice. “And if you need me to, I’ll sit with your father while you drive to Melbourne this afternoon.”

  He gave her a searching look and she knew he’d detected the effort she’d had to make to keep her tone neutral when she’d mentioned his father.

  She reached for his hand. “He’s not simply the nice old man next door for me anymore. To be frank, I’d be happy to never see him again. Or to have a chance to give him a piece of my mind. But I know that both those things put a burden on you. So I’ll keep going next door and doing what I can to help. Whatever you want. But I want you to know I’m doing it for you, not for him.”

  She knew that for some people, Bob’s illness and advanced years would be automatic grounds for a get-out-of-jail-free card for past behavior, but not for her. Tyler hadn’t said much about his mother, but she understood that he’d had precious few people on his side in his lifetime. Well, Ally was on his side, and she was fiercely determined that he knew it and that all her comfort and understanding were for him. He deserved to have one champion in his life, one person who put him above anybody and everybody else.

  Perhaps if Bob had sought to reconcile with Tyler in some way, she would feel differently. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d attempted to blame Tyler and twist the truth.