by Avery Flynn
His finger traced her jaw, setting off sparks everywhere he touched. The sensation startled her and she opened her eyes. The heat in his gaze went straight to her already drenched pussy. God, why did doing what was right, feel so bad?
“I wasn't lying on the plane. I've fantasized about you since I was twenty-two, wanted you so bad my teeth hurt. That's all I thought it was, lust. But when I saw you lying on that bathroom floor, bloody and half-conscious, the world fell out from beneath me.” He rushed on, “I'm not saying let’s get married tomorrow, but soon. You, me, a houseful of kids and a dog. I insist on the dog.”
Panic sucked all the air out of the diner. The taste of bittersweet irony filled her mouth. She'd longed to hear those words for as long as she could remember. Now that she had, her only choice was to push him away. She couldn’t let her own selfishness hurt another person she loved.
Inhaling a shaking breath, she straightened her spine. Please God, just let me bluff my way out of this.
Her mind reeled, searching for something to say. The idea hit her like a lead balloon. Could she do it? She gazed at him, the hope clear in his tired hazel eyes. She had to brazen it out. It was for the best.
God, she wanted to puke.
“Wow, Hank. I don't know what to say.” His body tensed and she had to blink back the tears threatening to give her away. “There's no denying I'm attracted to you, but I'm afraid that's all it is. Lust. We can be fuck buddies.”
He grabbed her, forced her to turn and face him in the claustrophobic booth. “Bullshit! What I feel for you is different than lust, and you feel the same.”
The truth of his words twisted her heart into a tight knot until she snapped. “You want it all, don't you? The picket fence. The wife and the two-point-five kids. Oh, and let's not forget Fido digging in the yard.” Her nails dug into her palms as she forced herself to go on. “Well, Hank, what you want isn't in the cards for me.”
“What are you talking about? And don't give me any more of that fuck-buddy crap.”
Reaching deep to some well of inner strength she hoped wasn't tapped out, she pushed against his chest. “I need to leave.”
He sat still as a statue made of anger and hurt. The only thing that moved was the vein pulsing at his temple. “Not without me.”
She’d taken it too far, done too much for this to end any other way than ugly. He wanted her. She wanted him. “And if I said tonight and never again?”
Lowering his lips to hers, he hesitated a breath before they touched. “I’ll find a way to convince you otherwise. Before tonight’s out, you’ll tell me your secret, Beth. Have no doubt.”
Chapter Twenty
The kissing lasted through a quick wave goodbye to Chris and Sam, the cab ride to Hank's hotel and most of the elevator ride. Beth didn't come up for air until Hank slipped his room key into the lock, and even then her brain was mired in a lust-induced fog.
Dusk's golden light filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling window, giving the room a soft glow. After what had happened this afternoon, the hotel had given them a suite and moved all of their baggage. Slipping out of her black heels, she felt her feet sink into the plush cream carpet as she sauntered across to the windows and their view of the Spring Mountains. The thick carpet silenced Hank's footsteps, but the quivering sensation dancing along her skin alerted her to his presence a moment before his strong fingers slipped underneath her tacky Vegas hoodie. One foot nudged between hers, forcing them apart until her legs were as wide apart as her shorts allowed.
Reaching around her body, he leisurely lowered the zipper of her hoodie, then pinched both nipples.
Heat seeped into her pussy. The soft cotton came apart as the zipper traveled downward, each centimeter of exposure heightening the anticipation until she moved to yank it off.
“Stop.” His growl stopped her in mid-motion. “We have all night, let me enjoy every second of this.”
“I don't think I can wait.”
“If you can't, I'll have to tie you to the bed to teach you some patience.”
“You wouldn't.” Her clit throbbed at the idea.
Hank whipped the drapes' braided tie-back cord from its hook and pressed it against the window in front of her face. “Are you sure about that?”
Knees weakening with want, she stilled her fingers.
“Hold this.” He thrust the cord into her hand. “A reminder to take it slow.”
The rough tie-back scratched against her palm's soft skin, but any thought of it evaporated the second he spread the two sides of her hoodie wider apart. Facing the window, her breasts were exposed to the revelers ten stories below. She doubted anyone could see her, but sill the idea of an audience ratcheted up her desire.
“I can see how hard your nipples are in the reflection. Does this turn you on, Beth? Should I take your shirt all the way off?”
A shiver skittered down her spine. “Yes.”
In a flurry of movement, the yellow fabric dropped to the floor. His hands cupped her breasts. “I love your tits. God, they're perfect.”
“They're too small.”
He nipped at her shoulder. “No. They're just the right size, an ideal handful.”
Without warning, he released her and took half a step back. His calloused hands glided down her naked back, stopping just shy of the waistband of her shorts, hanging low on her hips. One firm push had her pressed against the cool glass. The contrast between the air conditioned window and his warm hands spanning her waist transformed her already stiff nipples into diamonds. She grasped the tie back as if it would keep her tethered to reality and save her from the ardor flooding her. His fingers found their way to her elastic waistband and he tugged it downward.
Slowly.
She needed more. Now.
His hazel eyes darkened until they were nearly black. “Stay.”
“Why?”
“Please, let me taste my fill.” He exhaled a harsh breath. “Not that I think that's possible.”
Beth glanced out the window and watched the lights flicker on below her, fighting a battle between the immediate gratification of a fast come and a lasting payoff of a sweaty, toe-curling, exhaustion-inducing orgasm. Then, his soft lips touched the base of her spine, knocking out any thoughts of…well…anything. Electricity shot straight up her spine and down to her core.
He slid the soft material of the shorts down her legs. Hands trailed across the outside of her thighs, Hank's mouth worked across the rise of her ass. Never mind thinking, breathing became an impossibility. She forgot about the people on The Strip below, forgot about Sarah Jane, forgot about being lonely and forgot why she'd ever fought this.
Her breath fogged up the window as she leaned her forehead against the unyielding pane, needing to feel something solid in comparison to her jellified body. He molded her butt, one full globe in each hand, squeezing and teasing. Her clit vibrated and she couldn't hold back the tortured moan from a place inside her consumed by want. Fuck it. She'd had just about enough of foreplay.
In the next heartbeat, his tongue traced a line along the underside of her buttocks and fireworks exploded through her body. Moisture flooded her pussy and she arched her back to give him more of her ass to enjoy. His fingers slipped underneath the soaked cotton center of her panties and plunged two long digits into her quaking pussy. The impact nearly brought her to her knees.
“Oh God, Hank.” A plea? A thank you? She had no idea.
He pulled out his fingers to sweep them across her clit, rotating around the tight nub before sinking back inside to press against her G-spot. His left hand snaked up her side until he tweaked her nipple, pulling it taut. The sensual assault continued until the pressure built, higher and higher, pushing her toward infinity. The orgasm undulated within her, a tight explosion with waves of pleasure rolling across her.
Collapsing against the window, Beth gasped for air as the world came back into focus. “That was amazing.” She turned to face him. “Thank you.”
A lazy
half smile curled one side of his mouth as he stood and took a step back. “For what?”
Striding forward, she closed the distance between them. Unable to resist touching him, she brushed the fingers of her non-injured arm down his shirt, still missing a few buttons from their afternoon lovemaking. He was so delicious, so tempting, she craved the taste of him on her lips. But she had to make him understand first.
“Making me see that it was time to let go. My whole life I've held on to things so tightly because I was too scared of letting go and losing everything. I never knew how freeing it was to just be.”
“Oh, let's see what else I can do.”
Her knees shook at the idea. Making fast work of his few remaining buttons, she stripped away the gray shirt, revealing the muscular chest first honed with two-a-days at football camp that he'd never lost in the years since. Her mouth watered at the sight of his defined abs and hard pecs. The pants fell next, a puddle on the floor in the blink of an eye. The fact he'd gone commando revived the lust momentarily sated by her earlier orgasm.
“You're amazing.” She relished his musky smell and ran her fingers down the dark happy trail. The moment she wrapped her hand around the base of his hard cock and stroked, he sucked in a sharp breath.
His hands went to her hair, entwining his fingers with her long brown strands. “Let's call it a tie.”
They lowered themselves onto the bed, scattering the overstuffed pillows, and sank into the plush comforter. Ready to explore every inch of him with her hands and tongue, she started at his broad shoulders, then licked her way south to lap at his flat nipples and trace the lines at the top of his six-pack. She stopped right above where his hard-on rested against his stomach and inhaled the warm, musky man scent of him.
Hank. For tonight, her Hank.
Skipping over the obvious target, she smiled at his frustrated groan. When she flattened her tongue and lapped at his balls, the sounds escaping his open mouth morphed into moans of encouragement. Gently, sucking them, she swirled her tongue around them as she once again stroked his straining dick.
“Beth, that feels so fucking good.” He squirmed on the bed, forcing her to release his balls.
Not content after how he'd tortured her, she drew his engorged head into her mouth, alternately sucking and licking her prize. Salty and smooth pre-cum covered her tongue like the sweetest nectar. He tasted like heaven. She buried her fingers in her wet pussy and took him in deeper until his cock pushed against the back of her throat. With deliberate care, he pumped in and out of her mouth, his hands holding her head steady. His cock pushed her lips farther apart as she opened to accommodate his girth.
The ache in her pussy couldn't be appeased by her fingers. She needed him inside her, filling her completely. His hands slid from her hair as she rose to her knees and rubbed her hands across her tits. A quick shake of her head and her hair fell in cascades across her shoulders. Spurred on by the desire blazing from his eyes and the lust burning inside her, Beth crawled up his body and lowered herself inch by wet inch onto him. She braced her hands on his stomach and adjusted to his size. Her muscles relaxed and she arched her back so his cock delved deeper. Clit nestled against his pelvic bone, Beth rode him as if she'd been made to do it.
His fingers bit into her hips and he met her every movement with a thrust of his own. “I love you, Beth.”
She missed a beat of their shared rhythm and held her breath, waiting for the panic, for the fear to rear up and swamp her. Instead, a new energy spread through her, more powerful than if she'd gobbled a mountain of chocolate-covered espresso beans. Goose bumps dotted her skin and a shiver nearly snapped her spine. Leaning forward, her nipples brushed against the course hair on Hank's chest and she claimed his mouth as only a true lover can.
“I love you, too. Always have. Always will.”
Picking up the rhythm again, their bodies, slick with sweat, came together. Hard and soft. Forward and retreat. Always moving toward fulfillment, toward bliss. It started in her toes, the throbbing radiating outward, encompassing her limbs. The orgasm slid up her back, surprising her with its suddenness. Her head snapped back and every muscle in her body locked as lightning flashed and thunder crashed inside her. With one final thrust, Hank came underneath her with a harsh groan.
Hank woke at peace with himself and the world.
Beth curled into his side, her face tucked into the hollow by his shoulder. Her breath came out in a steady rhythm and her eyes were closed, but something in the tension in her shoulders outed her as being awake, her troubled thoughts as obvious as if she spoke them aloud.
Postponing the discussion ahead, he closed his eyes and stroked her silky brown hair, smoothing it off her shoulders in an attempt to soothe her worries away. It had never been like this with Amanda. The future unfolded in his mind’s eye, their future, the picture so clear it seemed more memory than imagining. Just the two of them at first, then kids with the Layton hazel eyes and her warm brown skin. Family dinners. Coaching their sons’ Pop Warner football teams. Dancing in the living room while the kids slept.
He’d lived a lifetime with Beth before he opened his eyes and admired her naked body stretched out over his.
Perfect.
“Marry me, Beth.”
Her body went stiff.
“I mean it. You’re everything I want, everything I need.”
Tears wet his chest above his heart. “No.”
She pulled away from him, rolled over and lowered her legs off the bed. Shoulders shaking, she stayed there, not making a sound.
Blood rushed through his ears and his lungs ached from holding his breath. “Why?”
She didn’t move, but flighty energy pulsated off her naked form and he feared she’d disappear if he blinked. The longer she sat unresponsive and silent, the more his confusion built. It grew larger and more demanding until it burned inside him, becoming an inferno of anger.
“What the fuck, Beth, you can’t even talk to me now, give me an explanation? This is complete bullshit.”
He threw the sheet off and vaulted from the bed. Storming around to her side, he stood, hands on his hips in front of her. Tears spilled down her cheeks but hurt and anger had blocked out any concern.
“Answer me, God dammit. I deserve an answer.”
She shook her head. “I can’t give it to you.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I know you too well, Hank. I know the kind of man you are, how much duty, obligations and promises mean to you. I won’t have you feeling obligated to stay with me.”
“That makes less sense than a sack of shit.”
“I’m sorry.” She stood, her body only inches from his. Her hand went up to touch his chest, but she stopped just shy of her goal. “I can’t hurt you like I hurt them.”
Shuffling, she stepped sideways around him and gathered her clothes piled on the floor in front of the window.
Enough. He marched over to her and yanked the clothes from her grasp. “What are you talking about?”
“The night my parents died. I’d begged them to stop at Denny’s on the way home. That’s why we were on the road so late. If I hadn’t been so intent on my own needs, so selfish, we never would have been hit by the drunk driver. My parents would be alive.”
The anger evaporated and he folded Beth into his arms. “You were an eight-year-old girl. You aren’t responsible. The other driver is.”
“Intellectually I know that, but in my gut… Hank, I watched my mother die, listened to her gasp for breath.”
“Darlin’, I’m so sorry you went through that and I’d tear the world apart if I could change it.”
“I know you would.” Her cheek rested against him and she relaxed.
“So help me understand why we can’t get married.”
She pushed out of his arms, sliding her clothes away from him at the same time, and took a step back. “Because if I married you, I’d be forcing you to sacrifice your dream life for my happiness. I love
you too much for that.”
“That makes no sense.”
Evidence of an internal battle crossed her face in the way her forehead wrinkled and she bit down on her bottom lip. “I had a hysterectomy. No kids. No family. I don’t know that I’ll ever want to adopt. Maybe God’s trying to tell me I’m not meant to have a family.”
The hazel-eyed, brown-skinned children he’d imagined playing football with flashed in front of him, then slowly faded away. Of all the things Beth could have said, he’d never expected this. He’d always wanted children of his own, always imagined the next generation of Laytons driving down the streets of Dry Creek, a town his family had helped to found.
While he tried to process the unexpected turn, Beth got dressed. She picked up her purse from the nightstand and turned toward the door.
He snapped out of his daze and chased after her. Gathering her in his arms, he buried his face in her silky hair. “Don’t go. It doesn’t matter. We don’t have to have kids or we can adopt or it can just be us. You are meant to have a family. Let me be your family. I love you, Beth.”
She turned in his arms, brushing his cheek with her lips. “I love you too, which is why I can’t do this. Goodbye, Hank.”
His first instinct was to chase, but he’d been doing that for so long now without accomplishing anything but spooking Beth and pressuring her to run.
Paralyzed by hurt, he stood naked next to the bed in which they’d made love and watched her walk out the door.
Chapter Twenty-One
Beth cursed her luck.
The flight from Vegas had been fine, but now the turbo jet between Denver and Dry Creek had been grounded with equipment problems. The flight had been canceled. The five-hour drive to Dry Creek would be tedious, but it was better than feeling vulnerable in a strange city. Contemplating the line of fifty people ahead of her at the car rental desk, she wondered if she should just admit defeat, get a hotel room, and rest her throbbing arm.