Stone Vows (A Stone Brothers Novel)

by Samantha Christy

  Chapter Forty-seven

  His kiss is hard and demanding. Like he’s claiming me. It’s different from the kiss we shared over six months ago. It’s not sweet, seductive, and promising like it was back then. It’s messy. Emotional. Purposeful.

  His tongue comes out, parting my lips as we devour each other. He tastes like whiskey and mint. I’m sure I taste of wine and pizza. He sucks on my tongue. I moan into his mouth. His hands come up to grab my face, holding me in place as if he’s afraid I’ll pull away.

  I won’t.

  Wild horses stampeding through his apartment couldn’t get me to stop kissing him.

  My hands are everywhere. On his neck. In his hair. On his back. On his ass. I can’t get enough of him. I’ve never touched him like this before. Not outside of my dreams—the ones that keep me warm at night and haunt me during the day.

  Once he’s sure I won’t pull away, he allows his hands to explore. He runs them down my sides, then around to my back, and finally up to my engorged breasts. When he grabs them, he cries out, “Jesus, Lex.”

  I’m ripping at his clothes like I want them gone yesterday. He’s pulling at mine as if we share a brain. Shirts come off, pants go down, material gets ripped. We don’t stop until we are completely naked, all the while kissing, touching, and feeling every inch of flesh we can reach.

  I moan loudly when he reaches between my legs, dragging his fingers through my wetness and spreading it over my clit.

  “Kyle!” I cry out when he rubs circles over my pulsating nub. I cry out again when he pushes a finger inside of me.

  Never has it felt like this. Like my body is being worshiped instead of used. Like I’m giving a gift instead of obeying a command. I can’t stand it. I’m building so fast, I feel I’m going to explode.

  I wrap a leg around him and he pulls me up into his arms, holding me by my ass as his penis throbs between us. I’ve never wanted anything so badly before. “Kyle, I want . . .” I can’t even explain it. I can’t articulate it.

  “What do you want, Lexi?” he asks, running his tongue down the side of my neck over to my ear. “Tell me,” he whispers.

  “Everything,” I say, breathlessly. “I want everything.”

  He walks us over to the kitchen and puts me down on the back corner of the L-shaped counter. He holds my stare with his as he carefully lifts each of my legs to place them outstretched on either side of me. Oh, my God. I’m completely on display for him.

  When he looks down at me, before he touches me there, he traces a finger over my C-section scar. I remember what he said last night about delivering Ellie; about being the first one to hold her, and I wonder if he’s remembering it too.

  Then, when his mouth touches me, I shiver. Tingles race up and down my spine as he swirls his tongue around on me. He slides a finger inside me, then two. I grab his hair as he crooks them to find my sweet spot. “Oh, God,” I murmur over and over as his fingers work their magic.

  His other hand reaches around to my backside so he can hold me against him when it gets so intense I feel I need to pull away. I find it completely erotic to look down on him and watch as he does this to me. Purely for me. For my pleasure and mine alone.

  He brings me right to the edge of detonation, and then he pulls back, withdrawing his fingers; his tongue. My body is begging for release. “Kyle, please,” I plead.

  He smiles as he resumes his ministrations. I pull on his hair, hoping he will hurry this along and let me come. I can’t take it anymore. The buildup, the ebb. But I need it to flow. I need it to flow like I’ve never needed it before. “Do it . . . please!” I yell.

  He pulls back once again, looking amused. “Do what, Lex?” he asks with a crook of his finger.

  “Make me come!” I shout. “Jesus Christ, Kyle, make me come already!”

  He snickers, resuming his tongue on my clit where he licks, sucks and laves circles on it, making me pant and squirm. This time, however, when I reach the precipice, he doesn’t stop. He keeps moving his fingers and circling my clit as I buck my hips into him. “Yes,” I breathe, holding his head tightly in place.

  “Oh, God. Yes! Yes!” I scream at the ceiling as wave after wave, pulse after pulse, overcomes me, sending me spiraling off the cliff and into the crashing whitecaps below as they pound against me, toss me around, and churn me under until they finally let up and I can reach the surface and breathe once again.

  I feel like I just ran a marathon. My breaths come fast and my legs are tense. I realize I’m still holding his head hard against me. “Sorry,” I say, releasing him.

  “Don’t be sorry, Lex,” he says, standing up to come face to face with me. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Jesus.”

  He wraps my legs around him and I grab onto his neck as he lifts me off the counter. He walks us across the living room. I think he’s going to take me to his bedroom, but he stops short.

  “I can’t wait another second,” he says, pinning me against the living room wall, devouring my neck and shoulders with his mouth.

  I reach between us to put my hand around his penis. Oh, God. It’s velvety soft. It’s hard as steel. It jumps, thick and ready, under my touch.

  He breaks the seal his mouth has on my flesh to ask a question. “Condom?”

  “I’m good,” I say, running my fingers up and down on him. “Nobody since him.”

  “Me too,” he mumbles, finding my neck again with his tongue. “Nobody since her.”

  I don’t even have the wherewithal to comprehend what that means right now. I’m too busy thinking about what his hands are doing to me. And how his fingers are touching me.

  “Are you on the pill?” he asks, breathlessly.

  Shit! Oh, my God. I didn’t even think. I know I’m nursing, but that’s no guarantee. “No.”

  He puts me down and runs across the room, frantically rummaging through his pants to find his wallet. It’s almost comical to watch. He’s determined. Desperate.

  He races back to me, quickly putting on the condom before he reaches me. I boldly jump back into his arms, needing to feel flesh on flesh.

  “Now, Lex. Please.” His eyes, along with his words, beg me to give him entrance. So I do.

  “Now,” I say, nodding my acceptance.

  He holds me up, pressing me against the wall as he enters me. He takes his time, letting himself get used to me. Letting me completely open myself for him. When he’s fully seated, he quickly pulls out to the tip and then pushes back in. He does this over and over until I unexpectedly start building up again. But I can tell he’s holding back. He’s gritting his teeth. He’s concentrating hard. He wants me to come. Again. Me. Before he’s even had his.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I say.

  I don’t tell him I won’t come this way. That I never come this way. He’s using his hands to hold me up, and I’m too shy to use mine to help myself along.

  “I’ll always worry about you, Elizabeth.”

  I don’t bother to correct him. Maybe I’ll always be Elizabeth to him. I don’t even mind it when he calls me that. It reminds me of some of the best weeks of my life.

  Then my thoughts become muddled and grey as he leans his head in and kisses me. He kisses me hard. He kisses me with tongue and I taste myself on him. It’s strangely erotic knowing where he’s been. His chest presses against my breasts, rubbing them as his thrusts become more demanding. He licks my neck, all the way around to my ear.

  I feel my insides coil. I feel the familiar tug of impending release. Building. Building. Oh, God.

  “That’s it,” he whispers, his hot breath flowing over my ear. “You feel so good, Elizabeth.” He grunts and thrusts. “Come with me.”

  On his command, my body pulsates, burning from within as my walls squeeze him tightly. He shouts out as he explodes inside me, our words of ecstasy mingling together as we cry out in tortuous pleasure.

  His knees buckle and he falls back onto the floor, careful to keep me on top of him. We lie like thi
s, our chests pinned together, our hearts beating wildly, our breathing labored. We lie like this until my eyes grow heavy.

  Maybe it’s the late hour. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the release he gave me—the two releases—that I’ve craved for so long. Maybe it’s a bit of everything. But the last thing I remember before falling off into slumber is him picking me up and carrying me.

  That’s not true. The last thing I remember is how I feel in his arms. I feel safe. I feel loved.

  I feel home.

  Chapter Forty-eight

  I wake up to the sound of Ellie babbling in her crib. As I stretch my arms and legs, I feel a twinge down below. A twinge of soreness that reminds me about last night.

  I smile.

  But then I realize I’m in my bed. And I’m alone.

  So many things are going through my head right now. I look at the clock, wondering if Kyle had to work this morning. I look at the empty space beside me, thinking maybe he’s not in it out of respect for Ellie. I look at the wall that separates my bedroom from his, and I wonder if he’s over there thinking of me.

  I look at my bedroom door, praying he’s not had second thoughts.

  I throw on my robe and go to Ellie’s crib, signing ‘good morning’ before I pick her up and change her.

  I settle into the rocking chair with a hungry Ellie. But I realize I can’t feed her. I never did my pump and dump. However, I’m not sure I want to go out that door to get her a bottle. Right now, I’m in this perfect bubble. Last night was incredible. It was everything I dreamed about. It was more than I dreamed about. I didn’t know it could be like that. I’ve never had a man put my needs before his own.

  And I want to feel like this as long as I can. Because now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure he didn’t have to work today. Which means he’s still in the apartment. And he’s not with me. He’s not in my bed and I’m not in his. So, this perfect bubble I’m in will most likely break as soon as I walk through that door.

  I look down at Ellie. “I’m being ridiculous, right? I mean, last night was great. He probably just didn’t want you to wake up and find me gone. And the bed in here is far too small for two adults to sleep on.”

  I remember the words he spoke last night. ‘Nobody since her.’ Has it really been that long since he’s been with anyone? Maybe he was telling me the truth when he said he was focusing on his career. I find myself hoping that is the case. If that’s all I need to overcome, the odds are in my favor. However, if there’s more to it than that; if he truly doesn’t want me anymore, that may be a harder battle to win.

  But he does want me. Last night proved it. The things he said. The way he worshiped me. It wasn’t just about sex. It couldn’t have been.

  When Ellie starts fussing loudly, I stand up and walk to the door. As I reach for the doorknob, I say a silent prayer.

  I walk out into the living room to see Kyle sitting on the couch. He’s leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees. His shoulders are slumped and his head is hung low. This is not the posture of a happy man. A man who had sex last night. A man who is excited about his future.

  But that’s not even what concerns me the most. It’s what I see on the coffee table in front of him that makes me want to die of shame. Oh, my God! He’s staring at a piece of paper on the table. The crumpled paper I had doodled my name on. The one that reads Lexi Stone.

  He hears me walking behind him. But I only know this because his whole body stiffens. He doesn’t say a word. I walk into the kitchen, my heart thundering beneath my robe. It’s beating so hard, I fear it’s about to break—right along with my perfect bubble.

  He’s not yet started the coffee. That’s unlike him. I do it myself, holding Ellie in one arm. And when I turn around to put Ellie in her highchair, I catch him watching me—staring at me with eyes that are dark and distant.

  Hot tears roll down my cheek as I reach into the refrigerator to get Ellie a bottle. As I place it in the warmer, I keep my back turned to Kyle so he can’t see how his stare has completely wrecked me. I busy myself gathering coffee cups and then I wait silently for the coffee to finish brewing.

  I give Ellie her bottle along with a handful of Cheerios, and then I take some deep breaths before I pick up the two coffee mugs and walk out to the living room. I put his mug on the table in front of him, and then I take the piece of paper and throw it in the trashcan, embarrassed that he found it.

  He stares at the empty place on the table. “It can’t happen,” he says.

  My heart breaks into tiny little shards that rip their way through my veins. “I’m sorry about that,” I say, nodding to the trashcan as I bite back more tears. “It doesn’t mean anything. I was just doodling.”

  He shakes his head, looking intently at the floor. “It can’t happen, Lexi,” he says again. “Not even if we wanted it to. You are still married. Married to him. And since you’re unwilling to do anything about it . . .”

  “Is that what this is about?” I ask. “Me being married to Grant?”

  “Yes. No.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Listen, we were drunk last night. And I take full responsibility for what happened.”

  “Oh, you take full responsibility. Like I had no say in the matter. I was there, too, Kyle. We both made a choice. And you know why I’m still married. I’m doing it for Ellie. Would you really have me risk my daughter just so you don’t have to think of me as Alexa Lucas?”

  “I don’t know what I want, Lexi. I just know this is complicated. It’s too complicated for us to go throwing caution to the wind like we did last night. It was a mistake. I have my career to think about. You have Ellie.”

  “Please don’t use your career as a cop out,” I say. “If you don’t want to be with me, just tell me. But don’t hide behind your career. Plenty of men have powerful careers and a family. I know I hurt you by running away. I know you think you can’t trust me now. Maybe you think I’ll leave again. But I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you want me gone.” My breath hitches and my heart falls. “Do you want me gone, Kyle?”

  He looks over at Ellie, who is now happily mashing Cheerios with her gums while she’s playing with a plastic set of keys.

  “I’m not about to put the two of you out,” he says. “I would never do that.”

  “That’s not what I was asking, Kyle, and you know it. Do you want me gone?” My heart refuses to beat as I frantically hold onto a sliver of hope while waiting for his answer.

  He looks at me. He looks into my eyes for the first time since last night. “No. I don’t want you gone. But beyond that, I can’t say what I want, Lex. I need time. I need space.”

  I nod my head. Needing time and space are things I can understand. I had over six months of time and space. Over six months to think about my life and come to terms with what I wanted out of it. Over six months to realize it only took me a few weeks to fall completely head-over-heels in love with the man who brought my daughter into this world.

  I guess it’s only fair that he have his own time and space to come to the same conclusion. And I know he will. I know, because I felt it last night. I felt the way he wants me. The way he needs me. I may have even felt the way he loves me.

  “Okay,” I tell him. “But if Ellie and I are going to be here, I can’t be walking around on eggshells all the time. How about we start by just being friends, Kyle? No more doodling silly names or talking about things we can’t change. You do your job and I’ll do mine. And sometimes, when you feel like it, I’ll teach you more ASL. Sometimes when I feel like it, you’ll bring me Sal’s.”

  He looks at me again, this time with brighter eyes. “Friends, huh?”

  Ellie drops her toy and starts fussing about it. I get up to retrieve it for her. “Sure, why not?” I ask.

  “I think I can do that,” he says, finally picking up his coffee to take a drink.

  I gather up Ellie and head to the bathroom. When I reach the doorway, I turn around. “But, Kyle . . .
I’ll never forget last night.”

  He nods, looking at the wall where we made love. “Yeah,” he says, blowing out a deep sigh. “Me neither.”

  Chapter Forty-nine

  “How have you been holding up the past few weeks?” Caden asks, digging in for another scoop of spaghetti.

  “Fine,” I say, shoveling another bite of strained peas into Ellie’s mouth. “I’m still in the friend zone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  My brother has come over at least once a week for dinner. Always at my place. Never at his. Just in case Grant is watching him. Caden and I have become close since my return, and he’s well aware of my feelings for Kyle.

  “I kind of figured,” he says, glancing around the room. “You know, because he’s not here and all.”

  “We live this symbiotic life now. Sometimes he cooks. Sometimes I cook. Sometimes I eat his leftover takeout. Sometimes he orders pizza for us. He doesn’t feel obligated to tell me when he’s going out. I don’t always inform him when I’m having guests. We’re living like roommates,” I say, looking over towards Kyle’s bedroom. “It’s torture.”

  “I’m sorry, Lexi. I know it’s hard for you. You need to give him time. Maybe he just needs to see that you aren’t going to leave again.”

  “I don’t want to leave,” I tell him. “But if all we are is friends, surely he’s going to expect me to at some point.”

  “I think we are a long way from getting to that point, Lexi.”

  I shrug negligently. “I hope so,” I say, topping off Caden’s wine. “But, hey let’s quit making everything about me. How are you doing? Why aren’t you dating anyone? Surely there is a plethora of women lining up to date a famous young ball player who isn’t even that ugly.”

  He chuckles at my joke before shaking his head in disgust. “That’s the problem,” he says. “There are so many of them. And they all want something from me. Money. Fame. A baby.”

  “A baby?” I ask, incredulously.