Felicity Found (Rogue Series Book 6)

by Lara Ward Cosio

  I have more motivation than usual to go slowly because I not only want to make sure I arouse her as much as possible, I also need a little time to recover myself if I’m going to make love to her the way I want. I kiss the side of her neck and her shoulder as I gently play my fingers over her damp panties. I want her to need my touch. To need me.

  Pulling her onto her back, I finally do what I’ve wanted for a while now by easing off her panties and spreading her legs wide. I lean over her, my cock pressing down on her belly, and kiss her chastely until she’s the one who thrusts her tongue into my mouth. There it is. There’s the passion I’ve been missing.

  I break free so I can move down the length of her body, kissing her reverentially as I go. She doesn’t believe it, but I still think she’s sexy as hell. When I’m where I want to be, my face between her legs, I go slowly, savoring the taste of her desire. And I get the reaction I wanted as she fists my hair and a moan escapes from her mouth.

  I realize I haven’t had this pleasure since very early in her pregnancy. The thought gets me hard all over again as I suck on her clit. Her thighs quiver when I push a finger, then another deep inside her while tonguing her tender spot.

  “Con,” she whispers breathlessly.

  And then it’s over. She’s trembling and pulling on my hair, and then she slowly goes slack.

  I trail kisses over the inside of her thighs, on her hip, along her belly and up to her full breasts. They’re not just large, but firm from needing to nurse. It means I’ll have to have a light touch. I kiss around the outline of one breast and circle my tongue over her nipple, biting the tip gently.

  “Sweetheart, maybe not—”

  “I know, honey. It’s okay. We’re just getting—” I stop when the baby monitor lights up and the sound of crying comes out of the tinny speaker. “Started,” I say with a sigh.

  She smiles at me in the pale light of the room and touches my cheek.

  “I want more,” I say, letting my head fall to her shoulder. “I need more of you. I need you.”

  “I know, Conor.” She says this while stroking my hair. While now both babies are crying.

  I nod against her and then pull away, giving her the space to get up.

  I had wanted her to need me, but I realize that I’m the one left wanting.

  21

  When I wake it’s with the sense that I’ve been sleeping well past my usual time. The bedroom is bright, even with the drapes closed. Felicity is not in bed with me. I was out cold when she came back from nursing the babies. And it seems she’s let me sleep until after ten o’clock. Stretching, I turn over on my side and reach for the remote control on the bedside table, manipulating the buttons to open the drapes. It’s a clear, sunny day and I wonder if I have time for a quick run before I need to get to the studio.

  Felicity’s accusation from last night comes to the forefront of my mind: You aren’t there when it matters.

  That motivates me to jump out of bed and head straight downstairs to see if she needs my help with the babies.

  I find Romeo in his exersaucer in the living room and he squeals when he sees me.

  “Hey, big man,” I say and pull him out of the contraption.

  He’s a sturdy fellow and feels so good in my arms. He’s started to do this cute thing where he nuzzles his head into my shoulder. It’s a mixture of shyness and lovey-ness. It kills me every time, including now.

  “Where’s your sister, then? And your Ma?”

  He, of course, has no answers. But I do get a big smile as he gazes at me with a kind of wonder. I had imagined I’d love my kids, but I had no idea it would feel like this. This is a love that is all-encompassing and unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I’d do anything to ensure my kids have everything they need in this life.

  I wiggle my eyebrows and contort my lips, earning a hiccup of a laugh out of my boy.

  There’s a noise coming from the deck, so I take Romeo with me to see if that’s where Felicity and Ella are. Turns out it’s Lizzy with Ella. She’s got her in both arms, bouncing her lightly and humming.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  She turns to me and starts to speak but stops abruptly. It’s only when she slowly takes in every inch of me that I realize the only thing I’m wearing is form fitting boxer briefs. I imagine what she sees when she examines me is my mostly naked body, including the defined muscles of my abs and the sculpted ‘V’ leading into my low-slung underwear. In my haste upon waking to get downstairs I hadn’t dressed. And I hadn’t thought that Lizzy might be here, though I should have known better. She’s been getting here every day but the weekends by nine.

  “Hi baby girl,” I coo to Ella. I catch Lizzy reacting for a second as if I had addressed her. Her face lights up in a smile and she leans toward me. But as I go to her and lean in to kiss my daughter, she seems to realize her error and stands stiffly, waiting for me to be done with this routine.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I tell Lizzy with a small smile.

  “Good morning.” She gives me another quick once-over. “Em, it’s such a beautiful day, I just wanted to give Ella a look.”

  It’s not sunny but the clouds are high, and the air feels good. The view of the sea in the near distance is mesmerizing.

  “Yeah, of course. Is Felicity here?”

  “No, she stepped out about ten minutes ago. Said she had a coffee date with a girlfriend.”

  “Ah, okay.” Must be her recurring “appointment” with her therapist friend. “Well, I should probably get dressed.”

  I’ve turned to go back inside when I hear her say softly,

  “Oh, please don’t.”

  I smile but keep walking.

  * * *

  I shower and dress in anticipation of going to the studio. Gavin’s already texted, saying he thinks he’s got a solution on Christian’s song. I decide, at the risk of interrupting Felicity’s coffee date, that I’d better phone her to be sure she’s okay with me spending the day away. After last night, I have no idea how she’ll react. But I don’t see how she would be in favor of me sitting here in the house without her just for the sake of it.

  She picks up after the second ring.

  “Honey, sorry to bother you,” I start.

  “No bother.” Her voice sounds light, untroubled. It’s a stark contrast to how she sounded during our conversation last night.

  “So, I really need to get to the studio today. I wanted to make sure you’re okay with that.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  This baffles me and I’m silent for a moment. I have the sinking feeling her nonchalance is just a pretense and that I’d better tread carefully.

  “Because of what you said last night,” I tell her gently.

  “It’s fine, CQ,” she says. “You’re going to do whatever you please anyway, won’t you?”

  I shake my head in frustration. She has a tell that exposes when she’s trying to distance herself from me. It’s using the nickname “CQ.” I had thought we were well past that. Now it’s made a timely reappearance.

  “Tell me what I should do,” I say as calmly as I can. “I need to get some work done. Lizzy is here with the babies. You’re doing your thing.”

  I wait, but she’s silent. I have no choice but to push through.

  “I’ll ring you later, then. Maybe we can do a late dinner together?”

  “Sure,” she says, “if you can find the time for that.”

  There’s a sting that lands with that comment. It pushes me where I don’t want to go, and I lash out.

  “What do you want from me, Felicity? I’m trying to wrap up this album so I can be around more. Can’t you see that?”

  The line is quiet again except for some ambient noise from where ever she is. Then, she replies, “I will see you whenever it is you get home.”

  She disconnects before I can say anything more and I’m fuming. I throw my mobile hard against the wall. It falls to the floor, its screen a spiderweb of c
racks and bits of the frame scattered.

  “Fuck me.”

  22

  Felicity

  My hand is shaking when I set my phone down. Amelia is watching me but I can’t look at her. I’m at a loss. I cannot understand why I say these things, why I’m pushing my husband to be someone he’s not and penalizing him at every turn.

  Oddly enough, I had woken in a good mood. I’d cast off the despair I’d felt when I was home alone the night before with two inconsolable babies. I’d pushed aside the accusation I leveled on Conor, taking heart in his quick rejection that I meant it. Because I didn’t mean it. Not really. It was just my fatigue and frustration coming out in a way he didn’t deserve. And then after we had that intense exchange of orgasms, well, I thought we were good.

  I think it was the careful tone he used when pretending to ask for my permission to go off to the studio for God only knows how long that set me off. He’s still tiptoeing around me, acting as if he thinks I’ll fall apart at any moment. And sure, I’ve given him reason to worry about that with the one very bad night I had when he came home to find me practically catatonic. But that was one bad night. I’ve got a handle on things now. I don’t even need therapy.

  “Everything all right?”

  I look up to find Amelia eyeing me.

  “Oh, sure. It was just Conor saying he’s off to the studio. Yet again.”

  She smiles sympathetically. “His time away seems hard on you.”

  “He says he’s trying to wrap it up so that he can be around more, actually.”

  “Well, that will be nice.”

  “Only, he and I both well know that once they do finish the album, he and the lads will be busy with media appearances, and rehearsals, and touring. So, it’s really a false promise.”

  “I get the sense you’re dissatisfied with the way your husband’s job keeps him from being as present as you’d like.”

  I laugh. “That’s a diplomatic way to say it, I suppose.” I pause, trying to sort out my thoughts. “The thing is, I knew this is what I’d be getting. I knew this was his life. And I still jumped in and pretended I’d somehow be okay with it.”

  “What bothers you most?”

  “At the moment, it’s that we had a bit of a row last night about this very thing and exactly nothing has changed.”

  “A row?”

  “I was home with the babies after Lizzy left. Conor was at the studio, of course. An hour after I got them down, Ella woke. And then Romeo woke. And I couldn’t settle either of them. This went on and on to the point where I was in tears myself. Conor will never understand how truly painful it is for me when I have these episodes where I am incapable of soothing my children. I wouldn’t wish the self-loathing it triggers on my worst enemy.”

  “All that because you couldn’t settle them for a bit?”

  “It wasn’t for just a bit. It was for over an hour. I fed them, burped them, changed them—walked them all over the house, put them in their swings, took them outside to get fresh air, gave them a bath with lavender scented soap but nothing worked.”

  “Sounds exhausting.”

  “It was. Which is why Conor came home to find me crying right along with them. His concern was for the babies. It’s always for the babies first.” I take in a shaky breath. “As it should be, of course. But I can’t help feeling jealous because I just want someone to rush in and take care of me. I realize, though, that this is terribly selfish. And so, that gets me even more upset. It was all this that had me accusing Conor last night of not being around when it matters. I think I broke his heart a little bit with that.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me I didn’t mean it.”

  “Did you?”

  “No, not really. I mean, the reactionary part of me did. But if I think about it, I know it’s not really true.”

  “Did you tell him that?”

  “No, not exactly.”

  She nods her head and waits for me to go on.

  “We fell asleep. For a while, anyway.”

  “The babies woke?”

  “Em, no. He woke me up when he was, well, you know.” I raise my eyebrows and hope she takes my meaning. After a couple seconds, she gasps and then tries to nod seriously to cover for her reaction. “So, I helped him out. And he helped me out. And it all felt very good. I sort of thought he would be satisfied then. That we could just move on from the row.”

  “But then he called.”

  “Then he called. And it was this overly precious way of checking in with me, trying to get my permission for him to go to the studio. And I just reacted badly.”

  “What would you have wanted him to do instead? Put off the studio to stay home to care for you and the babies?”

  “I—” I stop and take a deep breath. “I wish I knew what it is that would ease this anxiety I feel. But I don’t. I don’t want to fault my husband. He’s good to me. And he’s good to the babies. I fear I’m pushing him away, like he said I was.” I have to stop again as tears rush to my eyes.

  “Why do you think you’re pushing him away?”

  She deftly hands me a napkin and I dab my eyes. Shaking my head, I shrug. We are quiet for several minutes as I try to compose both myself and an answer. Finally, I say, “I’m sure it’s to do with this sense that . . . no matter what he says, in the end, he’ll find that I’m not enough for him.”

  She nods and lets that admission hang in the air between us for a moment. And then she connects the dots for me, saying, “Which is the way things ended with your first husband?”

  This strikes home and I take in a sharp breath. My mind starts racing with thoughts of how the stakes are so much higher this time. Because now we have children involved. It would be one thing if Conor rejected me and our marriage, but I couldn’t stand for him to in some slight way also reject the babies. To walk away. The way my father did.

  Amelia’s phone vibrates. It’s on the table and she grabs it quickly just as she has done before. I catch a brief smile crossing her lips before she clears it away.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” she says.

  “No, I’m glad for the interruption,” I say. And I am. I need something else to think about. “Is it him?”

  “Him?”

  “Your phone fella?”

  She laughs. “It is.”

  “Answer it!”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Oh, it kills me that you won’t speak with him.”

  She shakes her head slightly, but with a pleased smile.

  “It’s romantic, isn’t it?” I suggest. “That he keeps up with these calls, despite not getting a response from you.”

  Though she tries to hold back, she can’t resist agreeing. “It is. He’s . . . persistent, that’s for sure.”

  “And he’s here in Dublin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mightn’t you run into him sometime? Ah, I love the very idea of it. That you two would meet on the street somewhere, lock eyes, and just know without saying a word that you are meant for each other.”

  Laughing, she says, “You do have a very romantic vision of this. It’s much more complicated than you can know.”

  “Tell me. Oh, please, Amelia. Tell me all about it, just as I’ve told you all my troubles.”

  She opens her mouth to speak but stops short when her phone chimes to signal she has a voicemail.

  “Oh, or better yet, let me listen to what he’s said!” I suggest.

  “I’d never—”

  “I know, I know. But you can go ahead and listen. I don’t mind.”

  There’s only a moment’s hesitation before she pulls up the message and puts the phone to her ear. I watch her as she gazes out the window, intrigued by the emotions that cross over her face. She’s by turns delighted, intrigued, and amused—even laughing out loud at one point. When the message is over, she holds her phone in two hands and looks at it wistfully.

  “God, it’s so obvious you’re still in love with
him,” I say with a grin.

  “I don’t think I’d go that far. I told you, we never had a traditional relationship, so—”

  “Is he married?”

  “What?”

  “I mean, I just assume that’s what’s kept you apart. I’ve got no judgement against it. I understand how tricky these things can be—”

  “No, he’s not married,” she says firmly.

  “Oh, okay. I just thought, with all the secrecy it was the likeliest explanation. And really, I wouldn’t hold anything against you—”

  “He was my client, Felicity. That’s why I can’t have a relationship with him. We were never together because it’s not appropriate.”

  That has me sitting back in my chair in surprise. I never expected this explanation.

  “I lost my professional objectivity when it came to him, if you want to know the truth. I mean, I do believe I was able to help him. But we got too close. So, I’ve been trying to impose boundaries, to get back to the training I had. Though, I can’t say that I’ve been all that successful with it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just that it’s going to take some time and better discipline.”

  Silence overtakes us as she picks at her donut—back to lemon meringue this time—and I turn my now cold coffee in circles.

  “Thanks for telling me, Amelia,” I finally say. “I hope you know that as your friend, you can share anything with me.”

  The smile she gives me is conflicted—both grateful and full of regret. I wish there was more I could do to ease her mind. And then something occurs to me.

  “Wait, he’s not currently your client?” I ask.

  “Em, no. Not for some time.”

  “Then, isn’t it okay now?”

  She shakes her head. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Sometimes what’s right isn’t what you need. Sometimes, you just need to listen to your heart.”

  She sighs. “That’s easy to say.”

  “It’s what I did. I slept with Conor when he was still engaged to another woman. I wanted him but didn’t think he’d choose me. My heart pushed me to try anyway. And it worked out.” I take a deep breath. “Now, look. Here I am, ever so happily married to him.” I’ve put on a big smile and my tone is overly cheerful. It makes her laugh, which was my intention.