The White Chapel: Book 2 in the Steamy New Adult Contemporary Romance Series (The Chapel Series)

by Marilyn Cruise

  “But take a step back and look where you are,” he says. “Sometimes letting go is the best you can do. That’s when you can move forward.”

  “You sound like my best friend, Anne. She keeps telling me to lighten up all the time.”

  “She sounds smart,” he says, lacing his fingers with mine. “I like her.”

  I gently elbow him in the stomach.

  He laughs, his low rumbling voice vibrating through me. I turn my head around and kiss him lightly on the lips, the touch of his wet mouth immediately sending a jolt of desire between my legs. I could never get enough of this man.

  “I’d like to meet this Anne sometime. Do you know her from school? Work?” he asks, pulling me closer.

  “Uh…work.” Which reminds me—shit—I still haven’t told him about me and the whole Samantha thing. I just need a few more minutes of peace before I can tell him. And I will tell him. Or should I? He’ll never find out about it, will he?

  No, Scarlett.

  The right thing is to be honest and open, even though it might cause problems. And I will tell him. Tonight. After the Christmas party at Diane’s house. Then he’ll have a few days to mull it over before he decides whether or not he still wants to marry me.

  “Anne went back home to visit her parents for Christmas, but she’ll be back tomorrow,” I say.

  “Which reminds me, did you want to visit your father before we head to the party tonight?” he asks.

  “Yes.” Should I invite Michael to come with me? He wouldn’t want to go to an old folk’s home on Christmas Day, would he? But I feel we have become so close now, and he did express interest in meeting my father. “Would you like to…come?” I ask, tuning to face him so I can see the answer in his eyes.

  He looks at me with full sincerity. “I would love to meet the man who raised such a beautiful and amazing woman.”

  I could marry this man for real right now. His deep blue eyes peer into mine, the affection in them so thoroughly palpable it takes my breath away.

  He leans his head down and traces his lips against mine. Unable to hold back the overwhelming swell of my chest, I sit up and straddle him. While he sits up, I pull the blanket around me, and suddenly our lips are nothing but a breath apart. He cradles my head in one hand, his thumb stroking my lower lip. With the other hand, he rests it on my lower back, pulling me in close. I move my hips over his as the desire in me awakens yet again.

  “You’re not too sore?” he asks.

  “I don’t care if I’m sore,” I say obstinately. I want him again. “Can you get it up again?” I give him a sly grin.

  His eyes turn pitch black. “For you, Scarlett, I can get it up whenever, wherever.” He exhales a breath as his lips part, unleashing his fabulous tongue through my lips. How does he do this to me? Fill me with so much desire I can’t think of anything else.

  He kisses me softly, and slips one hand between us, grazing my lower abdomen on the way down. He squeezes his fingers between my legs, forces two fingers inside of me, and massages the front wall of my vagina, all the while circling his thumb over my clitoris. Immediately my muscles start to clench in delight, the pleasure indescribably intense. I let out a high-pitched girly grunt, and press my pelvis against the palm of his hand to increase the sensation.

  “God, you’re so wet again, Scarlett. Already dripping.” His breath flutters against my face as he nips at my lips as I feel his erection harden against my stomach. Instinctively, I reach for him and coil my fingers tightly around his cock.

  “And you’re so hard,” I say, feeling the power of him in my hands.

  He withdraws his fingers out of me and slips them into my mouth, letting me taste myself.

  “See how sweet you taste, Scar? Like wild honey.”

  I suck on his fingers, finding it all extremely erotic. Moving my hips back and forth, stimulating my clitoris on him, I need him inside of me again, buried deep, filling me up, stroking me in and out with exquisite slowness. I lift myself up so I’m standing on my knees, and place the tip of him directly in front of my opening.

  “Already?” he says.

  “Please,” I say, the throb unbearable. He thrusts his hips upward and I direct him inside of me as I lower myself on top of him. I lift myself up and down, letting the length of him glide in and out of me, each stroke making him harder and harder. He places his hands on my hips, helping me lift up and thrusts me when I lower myself onto him. Having him guide me in this way is so hot.

  Feeling my legs burn, I pause for a moment. But he doesn’t miss a beat. He starts circling his hips beneath me, grinding himself against my clitoris, the sensation so arousing I can’t help but to move again. He lies down, leaving me still seated on top of him. Taking my hands, he interlaces our fingers, and the base of my palms press against his.

  “Now, you do me,” he says, his fabulous blue eyes ablaze with lust, a smile waiting at his lips.

  Oh. I’ve never really done anyone before. My ex always wanted to be on top with all the control. This is…exciting.

  I slowly rock my hips back and forth, and force him deeper and deeper into me. Oh, shit, oh...this is definitely my favorite position. Ever. Letting the moment take over, I let my head fall back as I let out a sigh.

  “That’s right, baby. Give yourself one,” he says, his voice thick and erotic.

  I start to rock faster, my hips instinctively settling into a wave-like motion, rolling over him, while I squeeze his hands to help steady me. My ass moves back and forth, faster and faster as I ride him hard, his rock solid erection unbelievably stimulating inside of me, the front of his pelvis pressing against my clitoris. I start to pant, and I feel sweat gather below me and on top of his hips, gliding, thrusting, hard, long, in and out.

  Oh…oh…my muscles wind so tightly that it’s just at the edge of painful, and I need to find my release.

  “Come on baby, you’re almost there. I can see it on your face, it’s so fucking hot!” His voice is harsh. Demanding. Raw. It’s just what I need to come, a thousand explosions around him at once.

  Just as I let out a loud moan, he flips me over onto my back again, and pins my hands to the floor beside my head. He drags them up above my head and holds them down with one arm, all the while thrusting inside of me at a furious pace, grunting with each move, his weight bearing down on me so I’m completely immobilized. Crushed. With the other hand, he grabs my nipple and twists it, the sharp pain shooting down and in between my legs, sending me over the edge yet again. He slams harder into me as I let out primal grunts, harder and faster until I come again, crying out in ecstasy.

  “Oh, fuck Scarlett, you’re so hot. I love you!” He buries himself deep inside of me one last time, a sustained shove, pressing relentlessly while a wild groan rises from his lips.

  We’re both panting, our breaths competing with the crackling sound of the flames. He lets go of my hands and lets his head hang toward the ground right beside mine.

  Once we finally come down and have caught our breaths, I start wondering if he realizes what he actually said to me. Did he mean he loves me? Or that he loves to fuck me? Am I ready to hear those three little words that hold so much promise? I’m definitely not ready to say them. There are still too many unknowns, and although I want to trust him with everything I have, and everything I am, I don’t yet.

  He lets his cheek rest against mine a while longer before pulling out of me. He kisses the tip of my ear and slowly slides off me so he ends up lying by my side. He doesn’t say anything, so I assume he didn’t really mean it, or didn’t really know what he was saying in the heat of the moment.

  But it makes me curious.

  Real curious.

  5

  We take another shower, but unfortunately this time, the water has turned freezing cold. Back downstairs in front of the warm fireplace, I watch as he dresses, all the while admiring his other-worldly perfect physique.

  “Do you work out?” I ask, trying not to drool all over myself.

>   “Never,” he says.

  I narrow my eyes at him.

  “I do Cross-Fit five days a week at five in the morning,” he says.

  That would explain the six-pack, the sculpted shoulders, the broad back and chest, and why he doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him anywhere.

  “Would you like to join me sometime?” he asks.

  “I consider any hour before eight a.m. to be part of the night, so…that would be a no.”

  He laughs. “Eight a.m.? Half the day’s gone by then.”

  “The day doesn’t start until noon, didn’t you know?” I tease.

  “If you’re using today as an example, then definitely.”

  Sexy goofball.

  Michael insists he pay the electric bill, but I refuse, and call the automated bill-pay and take care of the damn thing before he can sneak in and pay it for me.

  We drive together to the Mirabella Assisted Living Facility to visit my father. The entire way, Michael holds my hand, and my stomach feels like it’s about to come undone. This is a big step considering I’ve never introduced any guy to my father before. I hope they’ll get along.

  Am I doing the right thing by introducing them? My father will remember right away who Michael is and he might start to grill him. I’m not sure how Michael will respond to that. He isn’t the most approachable guy in the world when it comes to talking about personal stuff.

  Before we left, I put the engagement ring back on my finger. Michael told me he didn’t really care if I wore it or not, but when he sees that I put it on, I notice a proud look on his face.

  The closer we get to the facility, the more anxious I become, and when I feel my hand becoming sweaty, I pull it away from Michael.

  “You seem nervous,” Michael says.

  “Well, I am introducing you to my father, and he already knows about you. He might grill you, you know.” I give him a subtle smile.

  “Will he ask me if I’m any good in bed? A great kisser?”

  My smile widens and I let out a little laugh. “I don’t think so. God, I mean I hope not.”

  “Why? Will you embarrass me and spill all the juicy details?”

  “No.” I give him a shove.

  “Well, anything other than that, I can manage,” he says, stroking my cheek.

  “But my father is a relentless man. He used to be an engineer, and he catches every detail. If he’s in a mood, he’ll grill you to shreds.”

  “And you’re his only daughter, his princess?” he says.

  I nod.

  “If you want me to wait outside, that’s alright, too.”

  “No…I…I want you to meet him. I want him to meet you. I’m just a little nervous I guess.”

  “Well, I was petrified when I took you to see my mother the first time,” he admits.

  “You were? Why?”

  “Well, first of all, I wanted her to approve so badly. Back then it was about the deal, you know. If I were to introduce you now I wouldn’t be nervous at all. I wouldn’t care what she thought. I know you’re the one for me.” His eyes are bright and blue and honest.

  My heart soars, but I sink in my seat. I remind myself again that I will tell him I am Samantha after the party tonight. He has the right to know.

  Michael parks in the parking lot and we walk in together. When we approach the nurse behind the counter she smiles—warmly. What the…? She never smiles when I come in. But of course, I don’t usually bring Michael with me either.

  “Just go on in,” she says. “He’s been waiting for you.”

  I take Michael’s hand and we head to my father’s room. When I open the door, I hear Silent Night streaming from the radio. My father lies on the bed and is reading a book. Scrooge, I’m sure. He would always read it to me around Christmas time. His eyes meet mine, and I stride across the room and bury him in my embrace.

  “Merry Christmas,” I say, hardly daring to squeeze him at all since he’s so thin and frail.

  “Scarlett. What a joy to see you again. Merry Christmas to you, too, my sweetheart,” he says.

  I hold him a few moments longer than I usually do. I don’t know whether I’m feeling extra sentimental because it’s Christmas or because I’m just about to introduce him to Michael. As I let go, I look into his eyes, my tears blurring the wrinkles on his face.

  “I love you,” I say. “So much.”

  “I love you. And who do we have here?” my father asks, his eyes wandering to Michael.

  “This is Michael. Michael, meet my father.”

  Michael holds out his hand and my father takes it. I carefully study Michael’s face to see if he might feel uncomfortable in this situation. But nothing about the old folk’s home or my father’s illness seems to faze him at all. It’s like he fits in here. With me. With my father. I sigh inwardly.

  “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, sir,” Michael says, his smile widening, but a sincere expression of respect in his eyes.

  “The pleasure is all mine, son,” my father says. “You can call me Tom. Or Scarlett’s father, whichever you prefer.”

  We laugh in unison.

  “I hear you know a little about real estate?” my father asks.

  Here we go. My stomach clenches.

  “Well, some. I’ve been in the market for a few years,” Michael answers.

  “Seriously? You’re going to go all modest on me?” I say, my hands hitting my hips. I smirk. “Michael is the best at what he does in all of Oregon, possibly the entire United States.”

  “I know,” my father says. “I wanted to hear him talk about it, though.”

  “Sorry,” I say.

  “So I hear you’re an engineer?” Michael asks.

  “Yes, quite right. Back in the day. I worked for Straton Engineering,” my father says.

  “Truly? I’ve hired them a couple of times to work on some of my projects. It’s a great company.”

  “Yes, it is,” my father says. “So, I hear you’ve proposed marriage to my daughter.”

  He doesn’t beat around the bush, does he? Suddenly I feel my pulse in my forehead.

  “Why did you choose Scarlett?” my father asks.

  Michael doesn’t flinch at all. “She’s the most amazing woman I have ever met. She’s selfless, hard-working, considerate, conscientious, smart, and an absolutely lovely human being. She lives to serve others, and she’s as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. I am the luckiest man alive just to have met her. Did she tell you the story?”

  “Vaguely,” my father says, a proud gleam in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I’m doing this a little backwards, but…I would really be honored if you would give us your blessing,” Michael says.

  “And if I say no?” my father says.

  The room is held hostage by all our breaths.

  “Seriously?” I ask.

  My father cracks a smile. “Of course not. My daughter wouldn’t listen to me anyway. She’s even more stubborn than her mother, and that’s saying a lot. Take for example her school of choice. I told Scarlett to go to Princeton, but she was set on Harvard.”

  Michael gives me a knowing smile. “I would have to agree with your father on this one, Scarlett. Princeton would have been a better choice.”

  I gasp. “You guys are ganging up on me. No fair.”

  “Not at all,” my father says, giving me a scheming smile. “We just seem to agree on some of the more important matters.”

  Suddenly, Michael’s phone rings. He checks the screen. “I’m so sorry. It’s my mother. I’ll be right back.” He steps out of the room, and closes the door.

  “He seems like a good man, Scarlett. Are you sure about him?” my father asks.

  “I am. One hundred percent.”

  “But…?”

  “But nothing,” I say, forcing every doubt, every fear, every lie deep into the back of my mind.

  “Don’t you know by now that I can read you like an open book? There is something you’re holding back, though
I can’t tell what it is.” He squints his eyes.

  I hesitate for a second. “No, I truly love him.” Shivers go through my spine. Do I? Oh, God, I do!

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. You’ve changed, Scarlett. And it happened before you met him. You don’t look me in the eyes like you used to. You don’t have that carefree smile on your lips that told me you were truly happy.”

  “I’ve just been through a lot,” I say, hoping he’ll accept my half-of-the-truth answer.

  “I understand, but that’s not what I’m talking about,” he says.

  What is he trying to get at? I’m not confessing anything. “Maybe I just have matured and grown into a woman.”

  “Mature individuals don’t need to keep secrets from the ones they love.”

  His words sting. “Well, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You’re allowed to have your secrets. Heaven knows your mother had many. But just make sure those secrets don’t hurt the ones closest to you. Secrets can tear your relationships apart, and you will never be able to make amends,” he says.

  I feel all the pressure back on my shoulders, all the lies pummeling down right there, weighing me down. Thankfully, Michael opens the door and steps back inside. The interrogation is over.

  “Sorry,” Michael says. “My mother just wanted to make sure we were still coming tonight. We’re celebrating Christmas at her house. You are more than welcome to come, Mr. Hansen, and we’d be delighted if you accompanied us.”

  “It is a very kind invitation, but unfortunately I am not feeling up to it,” my father says, still giving me the all-knowing eye.

  “But it’s Christmas,” I say, feeling let down. I would hate for him to stay here all by himself with no one to celebrate with. “If you don’t come, I can just stay here.”

  Michael nods.

  “This, having you here and meeting the man you love is enough of a present for me for years to come,” my father says. “And I wouldn’t dream of having you miss a hell of a party just because you feel sorry for me.”

  “But…” I start.

  “No buts, Scarlett. You go and have a good time,” he insists.

  I take my father’s dry, wrinkled hand in mine and kiss it. I desperately hope there will be many, many more years. I look at the clock on the wall. “We should get going. I still have to get ready for tonight.”