Cherry Grove (The Cove Series Book 1)

by Leaona Luxx

  He needs to understand something. “I’ve lived a tough life, but I won’t live with regrets. You’ve been given everything that I had to work my ass off for. Money doesn’t make the man; the man makes the money.”

  One stares at me and I can’t help but wonder if he’s about to tell me I’m full of shit, but that never comes. Instead, he tells me, “I’ve hardly ever been defined by my actions, only my assets.”

  Walking over to stand closer to him, I speak softly, “Well, no one ever took the time to see you. No one has ever seen me for who I am, but I don’t allow that define me.”

  Cocking his head to the side, he assesses me. “Maybe you don’t let it define you in business because you know who you are in that sense; however, you do as a woman because you have no clue who you are, Hadlea.”

  He sees me. Who I am and who I’ll never be, and yet, I can’t help but want him, need him.

  I’m afraid. I am! I know nothing lasts forever. One will get tired of the novelty and move on eventually. I know he will. He is too successful and too well-known for the likes of me. I know who I am; I've been reminded of it most of my whole life.

  "Hey. Where did you go?" he asks, his concerned eyes staring down at me.

  "I'm here, just thinking"

  "Well, quit it… I don’t like that look on your face."

  I shake my head and lift my lips in a smile, pushing the bad back to the furthest recesses of my mind.

  Winking, he traces a finger down my cheek. "That's better. Are you hungry?" I nod and he grabs my hand, pulling me into the kitchen. "Let's see what we can rustle up."

  “You’re cooking?” I gasp in shock.

  His delicious, crooked, panty-melting smile appears on his face. “Yes, I know how to do stuff like that.”

  “Why? I mean, why would you cook for me instead of asking me to cook for you?”

  The quizzical expression he adopts mars his face. “Why wouldn’t I cook for you, Hadlea? When two people care anything about one another, they do things for the other person. Even friends. Although I hope you understand I want to be more than your friend.”

  After making some omelets, we sit side by side enjoying the food and each other’s company. Admittedly, this is nice. I’ve never really been on any dates or out to dinner. As a young mother of three boys, men usually ran the other direction whenever they saw me. It just wasn't in the stars for me due to my responsibilities; not that I didn't want to go out with someone, even friends. In my experience, men usually just wanted sex anyway.

  Maybe not all men. My eyes drift to One, heat growing almost immediately, the ache of wanting overwhelming me. Wetness drips into my panties making me slick and ready for him.

  Heat flares in his eyes too, but instead of taking me, he starts cleaning up from our meal. What the hell? Sitting there for a moment, I decide if I can’t fuck him, join him and begin drying the dishes he washes. Standing side by side, quiet and comfortable.

  "Check it! We did well," I announce, smiling at him, and he chuckles. "What? Are you laughing at me?" I try to hold a harsh expression, but I’m unable to hold it and start laughing.

  One grabs me around the waist, pulling me tight against his chest as his mouth crashes on mine. Oh! This is so good. We stand there kissing and exploring, our desire and need growing. Should I tell him that I’ve never been kissed this way? His mouth nipping and tugging at my lips. His tongue fights mine, wrapping, licking, tangling with one another. I’m on the verge of melting where I stand.

  His hands touch me anywhere and everywhere as he devours my mouth. They settle on my ass and begin to knead me. Gripping me, he lifts and hitches my legs around his hips. I moan.

  Breaking away, he mumbles breathlessly, "Woman, you drive me crazy. Always so responsive, down to those zipper-busting moans of yours. Fuck, you turn me on." Talk about turning someone on! I became a lit matchstick.

  But then he’s gone, and I’m left bereft gaping at him in bewilderment. What’s happening?

  “I have to go,” he whispers, his breath still erratic.

  Snapping out of my hormone-induced state, I search his face for something, anything that will tell me this is some kind of joke. "Umm, okay." I begin to mentally curl into myself.

  “Hey, stop that. I'll be back, but after our talk, I think it’s best if we slow down a little, get to know one another, and try to avoid any more misunderstandings,” he explains and brushes his fingers along my cheek.

  I lean into him, running the tip of my tongue across his bottom lip in an effort to entice him. He groans, biting my tongue, and making me snicker. I want him.

  "Naughty girl. I may have to teach you a lesson."

  I press myself against him and grab his lower lip with my teeth.

  He doesn’t take the bait. “Walk me to the door.” His feet take him to the backdoor first where he flips the lock, and then he returns to me and holds out his hand. I’m trying to hide my disappointment. “Now, what's that about?"

  I shrug feeling petulant. "I thought you might stay, I haven't you seen in days."

  A rugged smile spreads across those gorgeous features. "Can't get enough of me already, huh?"

  I roll my eyes giving him a small shake of my head, scrunching my nose. In response, he reaches behind me, tangling his fingers in my hair, and pulls my face close to his, "Woman, do not keep things from me. Do you understand?" I stand there, shocked, and a little shaken. "Do you understand me?”

  Where has this come from? Although I think he's overreacting, I also feel as if this is something he needs to hear. Can I give this to him? Maybe.

  “I understand, and I promise that I’ll try not to keep things from you, however, you have to understand that this is who I am. I’ve always had walls and felt the need to protect me.”

  His ridged muscles relax and his fingers uncoil from my hair, but he remains close and speaks in a more subdued tone, “I'm sorry. Old habits. We’ll work on it together, okay?”

  He's right, we need more time. What am I thinking? I promised to try and not keep things from him, but I have so many secrets that could destroy more than just us. Saying a silent prayer that I can keep my demons at bay, I nod in agreement and take him by the hand.

  Pausing at the door, he bends down to whisper in my ear, “I know we both have a past. I want you to know that as long as we are honest with each other, this can work.”

  I take a deep breath and say, “Okay, but this may take me some time.”

  For some reason he finds that funny and barks, “Gee, you think?”

  His laughter makes me giggle. This is going to take some getting used to, but something bothers me. How am I going to tell him things I have a hard time accepting and admitting myself?

  “Hey, where are you?” he asks, pulling gently at a wayward strand of hair.

  I force a small smile. “I’m here. I just hate that you’re leaving.”

  His smile grows. “I promise I’ll be here tomorrow.”

  We kiss and when he pulls back to walk out to his truck, I feel a little empty. So much I never expected is happening, and I don’t know how to react. I came here to start anew, to create a better life. I can’t fathom how I’m supposed to work One into this new life of mine. The truth…no one knows it except me. Why would a man like One want me? What could I possibly offer him? I have secrets, too many secrets— ones I honestly hope to take to the grave if I can.

  ***

  After tossing and turning for hours, I give up on slumber only to decide to get up and take a walk down to the beach. Looking out over the ocean, the sun begins to rise on the horizon. The medley of colors contrasts with each other, while at the same time playing off one another. Nature has painted the picture of my life. The night sky is dark and fights to remain as the light sun banishes the darkness giving way to reds, yellows, blues, and purples. The sky itself appears as if it is vying for space with the ocean, the waves trying to steal space from the sky. The blackness of the night sky is like the bad things life throws
at me, but then the sun comes and dawns a new day, and yet, everything is new, different, unscripted. Everything can and will change— some good and some bad. Change never really sat well with me internally.

  I know deep down that I deserve to be happy, but I also know that life gets in the way. Besides my children, I haven’t experienced much happiness in my life. Instead, my life could fill a novel with angst. I have a serious decision to make. Can I allow One to be in my life? Should I allow him, knowing that it can’t go any further than what it is now?

  We can spend time together, sure, but if anything were to go beyond that, I would feel like I have to end it. He wants to know about me, my life, and that’s impossible. Not even my children know certain things, which is how things need to remain. There are too many things that could hurt too many people, including One.

  Why am I even considering this? I’m allowing myself to hope after learning a long time ago girls like me don’t get happy endings. The most I could hope for was that my children would have a better life than I had. They deserve it.

  I’m letting myself get carried away and it has to stop. I can’t allow myself to get involved, not with him. It’s as though he can see into my soul. One can read me; no one has ever been able to before. I thought I hid everything better than that.

  Returning to the house, I see that One, Hardy, and the crew are already hard at work. Good. That means I have a little time before I have to talk to him. I need time.

  Going to the back door in order to avoid One, my plan fails. “Good morning. I was beginning to worry. I’m assumed you were at the beach?” He apprehends me on my way in.

  Unable to look him in the eye, I drop my gaze to the ground, nod once, and give him give a simple, “Uh huh.” Did I really think that would be enough for this man?

  He grabs my arm as I try to skirt around him, spinning me around to face him. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  I refuse to look him directly in the eyes, his brilliant blue eyes. “Umm, what do you mean?”

  His stance shifts as he tries to capture my gaze. “You’re acting…different. Are you upset about me leaving last night? When I left, I thought you understood my point. I don’t want to stop; I just want to slow this down. There’s no need to rush, right?”

  I somehow manage a small smile for him. “I understand, One. It’s fine.”

  Reaching up to grasp my chin, he forces it up so that I have to look at him. “Something’s wrong. Talk to me.”

  “I’m good,” I brush him off. Based on what I’m seeing in his eyes, his tense stance, he knows. How? I still don’t understand how he has me pegged so well. Am I getting rusty? I try again to reassure him, “Sweetie, I’m fine.”

  His eyes bore into me, seeing deep into my soul before he finally gives and lets it go. With no more than a small nod, he leaves the room, and I release a slow ragged breath.

  I know he didn’t believe me, however, I can’t continue to dwell on it all. Grabbing another box, I begin unpacking in the last bedroom again wondering what the weather in Serbia is like this time of year.

  I evade him all day, running the moment I catch a mere glimpse of him, and when it is Hardy that comes to talk to me about progress and such, I realize One has figured it out and sent someone else to deal with me.

  The laundry room has been completed, and I can start using it for more than just a washer and dryer. I begin loading up the shelves, making notes of what I need to get from the store. His presence is felt before he has to make himself known, and he presses himself against my back trapping me between him and the washing machine. His breath tickles my neck as he whispers my name, “Hadlea.”

  I shudder, stumbling over my words. “Ye-yes?”

  He runs his hands up my thighs, pulling my sundress upwards. Higher and higher, until it leaves my ass exposed to him. “I thought I was clear last night?”

  “A-about what?”

  “About you not keeping things from me. I know that you’re keeping things from me, woman.”

  Oh, fucking hell. Think Lea, think. You need to make a coherent sentence and get the hell away from him, I tell myself. “I’m not keeping anything from you, One,” I lie.

  “Yes, you are. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing. Really. I was mad that you left me last night.”

  One grabs my panties in his fist and tugs, ripping them off of me. I’m aroused and that tiny barrier is gone. Before I have time to think, his hand snakes around to my clit beginning a torturous rhythm: slow, steady, without too much pressure. Just enough to make me a whimpering mess craving more. Pressing me against the machine, I moan with arousal and he chuckles, “Oh, you like that do you?”

  “Yes,” I moan again.

  He increases the pressure on my clit and moves his finger faster, and in response, my body bucks and grinds against him. Suddenly, everything stops. The hand that had been giving me so much pleasure just a second ago pushes me forward so that I’m bent over the washing machine. It holds me down as the other one rubs my posterior. I want more, and he seems to know exactly what I want based on my cries and the way I try to press my ass against his bulge.

  “Oh, baby, no need for that. I’ll give you exactly what you deserve.” His low deep laugh runs through me like an electric current setting me on fire.

  I brace myself against the machine, prepared for an onslaught of punishing thrusts, but they never come. I try to look at him over my shoulder, but the hand on my back shoots out and forces my head down. His voice is dark and dangerous, “Woman, I told you not to hide things from me, didn’t I?”

  “Y-yes,” I stammer.

  “Why did you do it then?” The hand on my butt lifts and then slaps my right cheek.

  “I don’t know.”

  Another solid hit lands, this time on my left. Each slap I receive is followed by a slow rub of the abused area. “Yes, you do.”

  I hate to admit it, but this is turning me on and I want him inside me. “I can’t,” I practically plead.

  Another two whacks and then he shoves two fingers into me. “So hot and wet. Do you want to come, Hadlea? Do you like being spanked? Woman, you love my hands on you.”

  His words and fingers make me shake, sending me close to the edge.

  “Tell me now, why and what are you keeping from me?” he demands, removing his fingers, leaving me wanting.

  “I can’t tell you. Please, One.”

  He growls, “Tell me!”

  Fuck!

  “Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you!”

  “Well?” he prompts when I don’t say anything.

  “I-I-I can’t allow myself to get close to you. I don’t deserve you,” I mewl, tears falling from my eyes as I admit one of my secrets.

  He takes a small step backward, but that only lasts a moment. The pressure on my back returns and he growls in my ear, “How about you let me decide what I want and deserve myself. I’ll also prove to you and show you exactly what you deserve. Understand?”

  I nod, unable to speak.

  His head drops to my shoulder and he speaks gently, “Hadlea, baby, I’m here now. I know you are afraid and want to be in control of everything you can be, but you no longer need utter control over everything. I’ll protect you. I am never leaving you. Do you understand why I’m spanking you?”

  My head shakes back and forth. I didn’t understand, not really. Maybe an inkling.

  “Hadlea, damn it! Answer me! You know why!”

  Again, I shake my head because I really don’t understand.

  “Because you need me and refuse to admit it. You keep pushing me away! Don’t you understand that I want to take care of you? I want you. All of you, good or bad. I’ll take it all. Now, I’m going to allow you to come, not because I can, but because I care about you and want to see to all your needs. I want to be the last person that ever makes you come, and you know you want that, too.” Shoving his fingers back into me, he growls his order, “Come! Come now!”

  And I do. His demand
s set off a chain reaction and I’m pushed over the edge, shuddering my release, screaming like a banshee.

  Still reeling from my orgasm, I feel boneless trying to catch my breath. The washer is supporting me, but he is what is keeping me from falling to the ground.

  Slowly, he pulls my dress off of me and spins me around so that I’m facing him. With his own shuddering breath, he wraps me in his arms and buries his face in my neck, mumbling, “Hadlea, you madden me. Are you okay?”

  I should be mad and upset, but I’m not. I can’t bring myself to be pissed off at him right now. “I’m fine.”

  Pulling back, his eyes roam over my face. “So it would seem. At least now you’re looking me in the eyes.” His voice changes, turning harsher when he demands, “Care to elaborate as to why I don’t deserve you?”

  No. Not at all, I think to myself. Aloud, I say nothing.

  “Hadlea, damn it! Don’t do this to me or us!”

  Lifting my eyes to meet his, I see a storm brewing behind that ocean blue. “I’m not the girl for you. I never will be.”

  Heat flashes in his eyes, and I think he’s about scream and yell when he surprises me by wrapping his arms tighter around me and holding me close. “What the fuck has he done to you?” His voice is so soft, if he weren’t speaking right next to my ear, I might have missed it. How did he know?

  I’m tired of fighting— for now. Melting into him, I feel accepted and complete for once.

  “Will you tell me? Tell me who made you feel that you’re not enough? That you don’t deserve love? Who hit you?” he pries.

  Shaking my head, I refuse to tell him anything else. It’s bad enough that I have to remember, the memories burned into my mind. Who I am, what I am, where I’ve been…they are all there. I can’t forget. Speaking it aloud will make it more real, allowing the past to completely intrude, and I don’t want that. It’s bad enough I’ve allowed someone to control who I am and will be from now on.

  I don’t know if I can do this. One is already demanding things from me, and I refuse to be dictated to. The last man that did that took over my soul and still lingers within me.