Save Me

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Save Me Page 27

by Cecy Robson


  “I know it’s not real,” Valentina says. A glimmer of evil casts along her eyes, darkening the soft, angelic innocence she’s playing up. “The woman at the bakery told me Seamus didn’t know who you were. That no matter how you were throwing yourself at him, reminding him of all the events you’d attended together and all the work you’d done for him, he didn’t remember you. But he remembered me.” Her smile widens. “Didn’t you, Seamus?”

  Holy shit. Cara Maria sung like a canary. She must have seen and heard a lot more than we thought. I should have known Cara would do something like this. She wasn’t happy when she showed up at Finnie’s reception to personally deliver the groom’s cake. I blew her off when she told me her and her man were separating, too busy wondering where Allie had disappeared and how bad I wanted her beside me.

  Allie’s bruised expression meets mine.

  “Hot,” Valentina says. “That’s how you described me. Or was it smoking?” She looks at Allie. “Do you remember?”

  Allie’s breathing way too fast, fighting back tears I know aren’t far from falling. Christ. I’d never hit a woman. But for the first time in my life I wish I was a woman, so I could knock Valentina on her ass where she belongs.

  “You’re right,” I say. “I didn’t know Allie. I couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd, would’ve passed her on the street and not thought twice. But I know her now.”

  Allie teeters slightly when I take her hands in mine, her gaze dropping. The music switches to Purple Rain, which I fucking hate. Not because it’s not a great song. But because it’s about something special that comes to end.

  I don’t want Allie and me to end. Not now. Not ever.

  I clench my jaw at the way Allie regards the floor with shame, like it’s all over and everyone will know we never really belonged—that our families will realize we were too pathetic to find anyone worthwhile, even though we maybe wanted to.

  The thought of losing Allie destroys me, like a knife slicing my heart open, every emotion bleeds out of me—everything I feel when I’m with her. Pain, want, love, and maybe hurt. It’s all there, even though I never realized a woman would be capable of doing this to me.

  My body trembles, riding out the tension and tightening every muscle I have. That’s how I’m sure what I feel is real, and how I know I’ve finally found the one.

  I just need the right way to tell her.

  “You changed me, Allie,” I tell her. “I fell for you. More than once, I fell hard.” Her hands shake or maybe it’s me. “From the first moment you really smiled at me, when all the piles of your hair lay in chunks on the floor, to those little moments when you showed up at my place to make sure I had a decent meal and that I was happy, to the day I bared my soul to you.”

  I’ve been quiet lately. Maybe too quiet. For a moment, I’m silent again. The realization of what I feel is awesome and all that shit it’s supposed to be. But it’s also scary as hell. No one ever tells you that piece of it. No one ever says hey, you’re going to doubt everything she feels. You’re going to wonder if you’re good enough for her and what the hell she really thinks of you.

  I tried to show her what she means to me earlier, when I bent to kiss her bare shoulder. She gasped, surprised and showing me actions alone aren’t enough.

  “I . . .” Allie says, except nothing more comes.

  She’s still not talking. Not like I need her to. So, I go for it, placing the final piece that’s missing.

  “I love you, Allie,” I say biting out the words. “I just need you to love me, too.”

  Her slender shoulders rise and fall, her composure dismantling. I’ve said too much. I lift her chin, wanting to see what secrets I can unlock in that pretty face. God, I’m not expecting what I see. Her beautiful eyes meet mine with only sadness. She doesn’t want me. Not like I want her.

  Valentina’s slow clap snags our attention. “Cute,” she says. “Brilliant, even. It’s a shame we know it’s not true.”

  Allie releases me, her steps purposeful as she stops in front of Valentina. “I don’t care what you believe or what you don’t.” She meets her square in the face. “I just need you to know if you ever touch Seamus again, you’re dead to me. Even more than you are now.”

  Valentina’s shock, no matter how brief, shows through her phony exterior. She knows Allie isn’t messing around.

  I can’t imagine ever saying that to one of my sibs. But I can’t imagine Allie not saying it to Valentina. It’s not mean or heartless. It’s self-preservation.

  Valentina was a sister Allie could have gone her entire life without. There was never a kind word, soft touch, or well-meaning intention. She tossed Allie aside from the start, failing to recognize how much Allie loved and needed her.

  Allie walks toward me, unable to meet me in the eyes. “I want to go home,” she says, her voice distant. “Will you take me?”

  I put my arm around her, wanting to spare her from all the nasty looks and judgement cast in her direction, although I can’t be sure this is where my arm belongs. Allie didn’t say anything about us. Not really. All she did was face-off with Valentina.

  It was a good thing. But not enough for me and her.

  We stop at the table just long enough to get Allie’s purse, walking out of the reception hall without a word to anyone. The dark circus theme is still going strong, guests laughing and taking photos with the bearded lady and contortionists in skin-tight black suits.

  We stand beneath the awning in silence, waiting for the valet to pull up with my truck. Lightning splits the night sky and a downpour of rain starts all at once. I shrug out of my jacket, using it like an umbrella to cover Allie, our feet pounding against the deep puddles as we race toward my ride.

  Shitty end to a shitty night. It’s what I’m thinking, but don’t say. I crank my engine and blast the wipers, pulling onto the busy road.

  I catch a glimpse of the Montana Elite in my rearview mirror. It takes all I have left not to roll down my window and stick out my middle finger. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to drive past that snooty place without spitting a curse at it.

  “Are you all right?” Allie asks, her voice trembling.

  I crank the heat when I see how bad she’s shaking. “Fine,” I say, but not much more.

  The world falls into darkness, the only spot of light shining on Allie and all the memories we’ve shared. All our talks. All the time with my family. All those nights we’ve spent alone. No matter how hard I tried, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

  I shouldn’t be pissed. I did my job. I made Allie find the confidence lurking just below the surface. I helped her realize her inner beauty, the one that’s always been there, hidden beneath all those cruel comments her family threw at her.

  Most of all, I gave her hope. The one thing she didn’t have enough of when we met.

  In return, she gave me friendship. In a period full of wedding cakes and walks down the aisle, watching those I most love begin their forevers. It’s what I most needed.

  So why am I so upset? Why am I so angry and in this much pain?

  My grip tightens around the steering wheel. Maybe because as much as I want Allie happy, I wanted to believe she could be happiest with me.

  Thunder crashes and lightning follows, dropping sheets of rain I can only barely see through. I mutter a curse when we reach Allie’s neighborhood and the only available spot is almost a block down the street.

  “Wait for me,” I say, cutting my engine and slamming down my parking brake.

  The moment she’s tucked beneath my jacket, I shove the passenger door closed. We take off down the walkway, the amount of rain falling creating small rivers deep enough to splash against my knees.

  The roof above Allie’s front porch barely shields us as she fumbles with her keys, each second that passes intensifying all the bad feelings I don’t want to feel. When she finally opens her door and steps inside, I can’t take it anymore.

 
; It’s not just what I’m feeling. It’s me not being able to kiss her goodnight or wake up with her in my arms. It’s not knowing if we’ll share another meal, take in another movie, sit down to another brunch with my family.

  I’m not taking what I said to Allie back. It’s true. All of it. But if she’s not willing to act, I can’t force it. She has to want to want me, and maybe need me, too.

  The heels of my dress shoes strike against the concrete steps. I was in a rush to get Allie safely inside, but I’m not in a rush to get home. My jacket, the one I used as our makeshift umbrella, slaps against my side as I lower it, the amount of water it absorbed adding to its weight. It shouldn’t be so hard to hold it up. But everything is that much harder now.

  “Seamus?”

  I stop at the bottom of the steps at the sound of Allie’s voice and glance over my shoulder. She’s just inside the threshold, her dress sticking to her soaked form and her curls plastered against her face. She’s out of breath, like she just ran several miles instead of a small city block.

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “Did you mean what you said?” she asks. “When you told me you loved me, did you mean it?”

  My chest rises and falls with each harsh breath. It shouldn’t hurt to breathe. Except here I am, barely able to contain everything Allie means to me.

  “I meant every fucking word.”

  Her eyes flicker with the start of tears. “I really needed to hear you say that.”

  I don’t remember charging up the stairs. I’m just suddenly there, yanking her into my arms and crashing my lips against hers.

  Allie clings to me, moaning. I barely manage to kick the door closed and lock it before she tugs my shirt free of my waistband and I tear open the back of her dress.

  Our hands are clumsy. Our bodies and clothes so drenched, we have to peel away layers of heavy fabric. Every tug, every article of clothing that hits the floor, makes it all worth it.

  Allie’s naked body slides against mine. She’s freezing, shaking, and wet. Damn, so wet, the tips of her breasts hard and grazing my chest. I drag my hand down to her stomach and between her legs, seeking her warmth. She grunts when I slip my fingers over her center. I circle slowly, my lips sweeping over her throat and my teeth taking small bites.

  I’m trying to take things slow and not overwhelm her. But she likes what I’m doing and doesn’t want me to stop. Her tongue gives my earlobe a generous flick before her teeth nip at my chin. It doesn’t hurt. Everything we’re doing feels right.

  “More, baby,” she whispers. “I want you so much.”

  I push my finger inside her, her thighs locking around my hand and her pelvis rocking to match the movement of my palm as I quicken my pace.

  Whimpers, quiet and reserved at first, morph into louder and needier. I kiss my way down her neck, fastening my lips around her nipple. One gasp. That’s all I allow her before my hands shove apart her thighs and my mouth secures her throbbing core.

  She writhes, gasping from my contact and lifting her leg to give me better access. I shove my face deeper, her soft pained voice begging me not to stop.

  Allie’s back slams against the wall, her hips creating a wild beat as she peaks. Guttural sounds break through on a scream as I pull on the soft flesh, savoring every taste.

  She curls forward, pressing me closer.

  My erection strains, slapping against her leg. I’m painfully hard, ready to enter her. But I’ve waited for this moment for too long. I’ll be damned if I rush it. Every touch, every quiver, every gasp of pleasure she emits—everything is what I’ve wanted.

  Tonight, Allie is mine. I’m going to make sure she fucking knows it.

  One orgasm follows the other, her body convulsing.

  “I need to get down,” she stammers, her voice shaking as another climax draws to an end. “Please.”

  I lower her leg carefully and rise, worried I did too much. Her entire body is rattling. She looks scared. “Baby,” I say, clasping her face gently.

  She drops to her knees. I think she’s falling and I try to catch her. I’m not prepared for her to plunge me deep into her mouth or for the strength of her sucks.

  Heat encases me in a rush and I lose my damn mind.

  I grip the doorway to her sitting room to keep upright, my face scrunching when I see those large, brown eyes watching me. She strokes me slowly, taking deep, hearty pulls with her mouth.

  My fingers thread through thick curls, fisting her hair to keep us in place.

  Moans stir from the back of her throat as that familiar tightness spreads across my lower back and into my groin. My head falls back, the cords on my neck stretching enough to snap.

  This isn’t how I want to come. I need to be inside her.

  My hands reach beneath her arms, hauling her up in one quick motion.

  I swear when I break her strong seal. I mean to carry her to bed. We barely make it onto the couch. Her back bounces off the cushion and her legs land over my shoulders. I ease my way in, carefully stretching her and just short of falling apart when I finally make my way inside.

  I start slow, not wanting to hurt her, but when her face mirrors all the lust and love spreading across my features, I no longer take my time.

  Each thrust, each pound, captures everything I’ve held back. It’s not until her face flushes and her back bows and I start to come that I remember the one thing I shouldn’t have forgotten.

  I pull out, slumping forward as I finish between her breasts.

  Our breathing is nothing more than ragged spurts of air. That doesn’t stop me from kissing her. “Sorry, beautiful,” I tell her. “I should have used something.”

  She smiles, her irises flickering with the remains of her pleasure. “It’s okay,” she says. “I’m on the pill.”

  That can’t be right. “Since when?” I ask

  This time when she smiles, there’s no hint of sex behind it. There’s only that warm smile she’s flashed me so many times before. “Since I realized I love you, too.”

  My eyes round, but my shock quickly vanishes. “You love me?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she admits.

  “I love you, too,” I tell her, and spend the rest of the night proving how much I’ve needed her.

  CHAPTER 27

  Seamus

  We finally make it to Allie’s bed around dawn. We don’t get much sleep. That’s all right. This is what I’ve wanted, to wake up beside her, not as her friend, but as something more.

  The corner of her white sheet barely covers her round ass and the comforter is somewhere near my thigh, I think. I don’t care enough to look. I’m too busy watching Allie sleep.

  We’re lying on our stomachs. While I’m tired as all hell, I don’t want to sleep. Not right now. Instead I want to look at how Allie’s full cherub lips press together and how her large dark curls fall along her face, covering one eye.

  As much as I don’t want to wake her, I can’t help stroking her hair away to better see her pretty face. Her eyes don’t open. Not right away. The first thing she does is smile.

  “Hi, babe,” she says.

  “Hey, beautiful,” I murmur.

  Her thick row of lashes flutter open, revealing eyes glazed with exhaustion and all the happiness I sense surging through me.

  “Is this the part where you kick me out?” she asks.

  “Depends, are you going to pull a knife on me?

  She grins. “No.”

  “Are you due in court?”

  Now, she’s laughing. “No, not today.”

  “Then you we have another hour. Besides, it’s rude to kick you out of your own place.” I pull her to me. “I’m classier than that and as an FYI, it feels good not to have to escape through a window.”

  Allie laughs, her head falling against my arm, her smile fading. “So, we happened, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “Took you long enough.”

  “I was thinking the sa
me thing about you.” She gasps. “I mean, I practically threw myself at you.”

  “Mm, no,” I disagree. “Throwing yourself would mean me finding you in my bed naked. And before you try to argue, I gave you access to my house and my bed and no, I wouldn’t have objected.”

  “You did give me your key,” she agrees. “But I didn’t want sex to ruin us. I wanted something better.”

  “Maybe what we were pretending to be?” I offer.

  She quiets. “Yes,” she admits.

  Allie shakes her head. “I was so worried last night that everything you did was for show. That you were playing that final role to protect me from Valentina.”

  “No,” I tell her. “That was me being real and telling you how I feel.” I frown. “You realize Valentina went out of her way to find Cara Maria and get her to tell her everything she heard?”

  “I know,” Allie agrees.

  “What kind of person does that, takes that much time to find the goods to hurt someone else?”

  “Valentina,” Allie answers simply. She drops her chin as if remembering all the crap Valentina pulled last night. “I don’t know how or when Valentina became what she is. What I do know is my life is better without her. I always wanted to believe she was as good as my family claimed, and that perhaps I was in the wrong for being so jealous. But when she did what she did, I stopped believing.”

  “You mean her cheating with Andres?” I guess.

  She laughs without humor. “I didn’t want to say his name,” she admits. “He doesn’t belong in bed with us.”

  “Damn right, he doesn’t,” I mutter, making a face.

  Allie doesn’t return my sour expression. “As much as I haven’t considered Valentina a good person for a long time, I still hoped to salvage something between us.” She sighs. “That hope completely vanished when I saw her try to kiss you.”

  “Just so you know, I’d never allow that to happen,” I tell her.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  I take a finger and sweep it down the curve of her neck and down her arm. Allie shudders. I never knew how ticklish she is, but I found out last night and can’t wait to discover more.

 

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