Coalescence

by J. C. Hannigan

  I was tired of wondering, tired of replaying every touch and wondering if they meant as much as they felt like they did. I had him, but not completely, and I needed to know if there was hope.

  “Grant Hernandez was there.” I don’t know why I brought his name up. I told myself I wasn’t interested in playing games, and I wasn’t, but it’d get back to him sooner or later, anyway.

  “The engineer?” Alaric questioned, recognizing the name. His frown deepened. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I have a feeling it was my mom’s idea. My dad probably told her that Grant asked me out the other day—”

  “Hold up,” he interrupted, and I turned to look at him. “Grant asked you out? When?” His jaw ticked with aggravation like he was mad that I’d withheld the information from him.

  “Yes…” I trailed off, my brow creasing. “He asked me Monday afternoon when he stopped in to go over some paperwork with my dad.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t think it mattered.” I shrugged, watching him.

  “What did you say?” he asked, moving across the garage with sure strides, the heat in his gaze enough to warp metal.

  “I turned him down,” I replied, my heart rate increasing with every step he took. He stopped in front of me, cupping my chin and guiding it up.

  His blue eyes darkened with desire, and he brushed his thumb across my lips. “Why did you turn him down?”

  Alaric

  My question hung between us, and the only answer she gave was the sharp intake of breath. Without thinking, I leaned forward, capturing her soft mouth in a kiss, and my free hand drifted to her waist. When I pulled away, her eyes shone with confliction—heat warring with indecision.

  “None of this feels very casual, Alaric,” she finally said, avoiding my gaze.

  “No, it doesn’t,” I said softly, moving even closer to her. I cupped her chin, tilting it up so she had no choice but to look at me.

  “It kind of terrifies me,” she added, her eyes tight with concern.

  “Me too,” I confessed.

  “What now?” she asked, her frown deepening.

  Although Cheryl had waved the first white flag, that truce might vanish if she took an issue to me seeing Gwen. It could be another easy excuse for her to alienate me further.

  But I’d let Cheryl control the narrative for far too long. I’d allowed her to keep me in chains, and I did it out of fear.

  Fear that didn’t seem to exist around Gwen.

  I took a breath.

  “I don’t really know,” I replied a moment later, speaking honestly.

  “Right,” she breathed, nodding once like it was the answer she’d expected, but it still pained her. She took a breath, her eyes fixed on mine. “I get it. When we started this…arrangement, it was with the understanding that things would remain casual.”

  Something shuttered behind her gaze like she was trying to put up walls between us. I wouldn’t let her erect them; I pulled her against me, bringing my lips close to hers. Her lids fluttered shut, and she exhaled. I breathed her scent before continuing. “I want this, Gwen.”

  Her eyes snapped open, and she smiled but with a wisp of sadness. “And what, exactly, is this?”

  “It’s not casual, that’s for damn sure,” I responded, almost growling. The knowledge that another man had asked her out—that another man had joined her for dinner with her parents—spurred me into facing the truth; I didn’t want to let her go, and I didn’t want to have to.

  “You sound frustrated,” she remarked, looking away, shielding herself.

  “I am,” I admitted, swallowing. “I wasn’t counting on…you. On this turning into…this,” I gestured between us, meaning everything from the connection we had, to the amazing sex, to the possessive streak that slashed out every time I thought of her with someone else.

  I wanted her for myself, and I was afraid to lose her.

  Gwen deserved a relationship or at least the promise of a future, and if I didn’t give that to her, it wouldn’t be long before some other guy—like Grant—did. The knowledge sat heavily in my stomach. I couldn’t let that happen.

  “I wasn’t either,” she said quietly, her eyes locked on mine.

  “I guess life doesn’t give a shit about plans.” I chuckled lowly.

  “I don’t want to get hurt again,” she added, pulling away from my embrace and dropping her gaze. She put her hand up as if warding me off. “I don’t handle getting cheated on very well, and my trust is shot to shit.”

  “We have something in common then.” I kept my distance, although all I wanted to do was reassure her that she had nothing to worry about there.

  “You got cheated on?” she asked, eyeing me with disbelief.

  “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “Because look at you. You’re the ultimate package.” She shook her head like she couldn’t fathom what my ex had been thinking.

  “So are you,” I told her, my hand twitching at my side with the urge to reach out and touch her, but she was still holding her hand between us, and there were still a lot of things left unsaid that needed to be spoken. I cleared my throat, looking over her shoulder because I dreaded her answer. “Speaking of the whole package…Sawyer.”

  Gwen bit her lip as if considering her thoughts. She stepped toward me, her hand pressing lightly against my chest, and peered up at me. “I know she’s your first priority, and I get that. She’s a part of the ultimate package.”

  I nodded, the pressure easing in my chest. I’d known Gwen long enough to see she was telling the truth; if she were bothered by the fact that I was a father, we wouldn’t be standing there talking it out.

  “So how do we do this?” she whispered, her vulnerability unmasked.

  “We take things slowly, do this right,” I suggested, stroking the side of her jaw with my thumb. “We’ll keep it between us a little while longer. Just until I figure out a way to handle my ex that doesn’t make her spiral out of control.”

  “Okay,” she said, nodding slightly as she thought it over. “Okay.” Her lips turned up in a smile when I nodded, and she pressed them to mine, tasting me, her mouth moving ardently.

  My hands dropped to her hips, and I pulled her against me. My cock throbbed, aching to push the hem of her dress up and take her on the nearest surface—my workbench.

  Still kissing her, I lifted her legs until the skirt rode up her thighs as they locked around my waist. I pressed into her pelvis desperately. She nipped at my bottom lip as her hands tangled in my hair.

  I walked forward, setting her on the edge of the workbench. Gwen’s low hiss as her hamstrings touched the cold metal morphed into a moan when I tugged her panties aside to slide my finger against her slick entrance, gliding it up and down before sinking slowly inside her.

  Sucking on her bottom lip, I worked my fingers against her, pumping in and out until I felt her clench around them, her legs trembling with her release. I removed my fingers, gripping her panties and tugging them down her thighs before reaching into my back pocket. I’d long since learned that when it came to Gwen, it was better to be overly prepared. My need for her was insistent.

  While I was busy grabbing the condom, Gwen unbuttoned my pants and pushed them over my hips with her black heels. I fisted my cock and rolled the condom on, watching as her tongue swept across her lips, moistening them.

  Gwen

  We were laying in his bed, the tangled sheets the only thing covering us. Sunlight streamed through his bedroom window, patches of light hitting the dark hardwood flooring.

  I’d only left the warmth of his bed—and his arms—long enough to use the washroom and brush my teeth, owing a serious amount of gratitude to Renly for ensuring I had an emergency hygiene kit in my car.

  It was a little disarming, how comfortable I felt. But Alaric had assured me with his touches and the way his eyes would linger on me. He wanted me here, and I wanted to be here.

  “Tell me about
him.”

  “About who?” I asked.

  “You haven’t said much about your ex, but from what you have said, I’ve gathered that he hurt you.” Alaric ran his hand along the side of my body.

  My teeth sank into my lower lip, desire coiling in my core at the feel of his hands on me. But I couldn’t let myself get distracted by his magical cock again.

  I took a deep breath, turning my face to him, my eyes searching his. “There’s not much to tell. We met in college, started building a life together, then he cheated. I found out and threw him out, and here we are.”

  It was a challenge to hold his gaze, especially with my anxious mind puttering along in the over-analyzing lane.

  “He sounds stupid,” he responded with his lips against the side of my neck. I tilted my head, giving him complete access, powerless to his touch. It eased everything, leaving desire and something else in its place—something fluttery and light.

  “He was,” I shivered, goosebumps erupting in the wake of Alaric’s kisses. My hands ran greedily up his abs.

  “Did you love him?”

  I froze, my eyes focusing on his. “I thought I did,” I answered honestly.

  “But now?”

  I bit my lip, shaking my head. “Now I know I didn’t.”

  “How do you know?” The corner of his lip kicked up, and his eyes were playful.

  “I think you know how I know,” I murmured, my eyes searching his.

  His gaze grew serious, and he nodded, lowering his head to press his lips to mine. His tongue stroked along the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, and I willingly gave it to him.

  The butterflies took flight, swooping in my belly as the kiss consumed me. Alaric’s cock jumped beside my thigh, and he grinned against my mouth.

  Hot breath fanned the side of my face, and I turned my head. Tig stood beside the bed, tall enough to hold his muzzle above the mattress. He whimpered, tilting his head questioningly.

  I laughed, gently pushing on Alaric’s chest. He rolled off with a soft chuckle, his cock still rigid. “I guess we’ve been in bed long enough,” he sighed, stretching.

  “We could always come back to it,” I reminded him, wrapping the sheet around me as I stood, peering around for my clothes. I stilled when Alaric pressed against me from behind, my body going lax against his.

  “I’ll hold you to it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my earlobe. “I think your dress is in the front hall.” He reached around me, retrieving a pair of sleep pants from his dresser. He pulled them over his hips and opened another drawer, grabbing a t-shirt. In two steps, he was back in front of me, holding the shirt out to me.

  I dropped my arms, letting the sheet fall to the ground. His eyes thirstily roamed my body. He bit his bottom lip and exhaled deeply when I took the shirt from him and tugged it over my head.

  Freeing my hair of the collar, I glanced at him, biting back a smile. “So, what now?”

  “Are you hungry?” Alaric asked, and Tig barked loudly twice, wagging his tail. “I make a mean omelette.” He cocked a brow.

  “I’m a little hungry,” I said modestly, just before my stomach audibly growled. Alaric grinned and touched the small of my back. He guided me forward, and we left his room, Tig leading the way down the stairs. “I’ll meet you down there.” I branched off toward the bathroom.

  Closing the door, I rested against it, drawing in a sustaining breath.

  17

  Famished

  Alaric

  Opening the back door, I let Tig out for his morning pee before heading into the kitchen. I grabbed a frying pan, set it on the stovetop, then reached for the refrigerator. Pulling out the eggs, and milk, I deposited them on the counter before going back for the cheese, spinach, and green onions.

  While the skillet warmed, I chopped up the green onions, spinach, and cheese, cracking the eggs off the side of the pan and dropping them in one by one before sprinkling in the rest.

  I hadn’t made breakfast for a woman since Cheryl, but by that point, she was already three months pregnant with Sawyer.

  Everything about this situation with Gwen was different. Having her in my space should have felt constricting, it should have made me uneasy, but instead, I felt balanced, like for the first time in a while, everything was right.

  For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to see a future different than the one of just existing until my next weekend with Sawyer.

  Gwen descended the stairs, heading straight for the mudroom to open the door. Tig cantered in, and a moment later, he bee-lined it for the kitchen, his tail wagging hopefully, carrying his food bowl in his mouth while Gwen’s laughter followed him.

  “I think he’s a little hungry,” she remarked, walking into the kitchen. “I can feed him if you want.”

  I carefully flipped the omelet. “His food is in the tote under the counter in there,” I told her, lifting my chin to the mudroom and watching while she disappeared. Tig, the smartest dog I’d ever met, followed her with his bowl, his tail wagging happily. I heard the cupboards opening, and the sound of kibble pouring into Tig’s tin dish.

  “Uh, Alaric? He’s not eating.”

  “You have to give him permission,” I replied over my shoulder.

  “Seriously? All right. Uh, Tig—I formally invite you to eat. So, eat.” Half a second later, the extremely audible sounds of Tig inhaling his breakfast reached my ears. I glanced up, following Gwen’s movements as she joined me in the kitchen again. “Can I help with anything?”

  “Just stand there and look pretty,” I joked, the corner of my lip curling up in a smirk as my gaze raked across her body. She smiled, her dimples deepening, and leaned against the island.

  “You think I’m pretty?” she teased, batting her lashes at me.

  I adjusted my erection, giving her a pointed look while I moved over to the coffee maker. Whenever I wasn’t inside her, I was hard her for her—especially when she was standing in my kitchen in just my t-shirt.

  “I think you’re gorgeous,” I replied, filling two mugs and placing one in front of her. I kept my eyes on hers while I put the sugar down, unsure of how she took her coffee.

  Gwen reached for the sugar bowl, her fingertips brushing lightly along the side of my hand, and pulled it toward her. Opening the lid, she took the sugar spoon and deposited three large scoops, flashing me another one of her signature smiles as she grabbed the milk.

  “I think you’re gorgeous, too,” she said, biting down on her lip as her eyes traced the planes of my stomach.

  I grinned, turning back to the stove. She leaned against the island, her hands wrapping around the mug, and watched while I cut the omelet in half and lifted the pan, sliding one half onto each plate.

  “So…do you have plans today?” she questioned.

  “Not really. Do you?” I asked, holding out a plate to her and arching a brow. She took it, biting down on her lip before releasing it with a pop.

  “Not really, no,” she confessed, staring at the omelet for a moment before shaking her head and setting it down.

  “Well, if you’re looking for something to do…I figured I’d take Tig for a hike. It’s a little overdue,” I told her. Tig lifted his head, hearing his name, his tail happily thumping against the ground.

  Gwen’s face lit up. “I’ll have to go home for a change of clothes…and shoes. Can’t wear heels on a hike.”

  “That’s true.” I laughed, stealing a glance at her while I lifted my mug to take a sip of coffee, eyes still appraising her. “We’re pretty close to the trails here, but you’ll still want something more comfortable.”

  She nodded, taking a bite of egg. “Ohmergawd,” she said, still chewing, her eyes wide. “You do make a mean omelet.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “By this point, I shouldn’t be,” she sighed, biting back a smile. “It’s almost unfair how perfect you are.”

  “I’m far from perfect,” I told her, my brows creasing. She gave me a ste
rn look over the top of her glasses. With her dark hair piled atop her head in a messy bun, she looked like the embodiment of a naughty librarian.

  She smiled slowly, picking up her mug and taking a gradual sip while studying me with a straight face. My entire body buzzed in response to her, my dick stiffening with yearning.

  “Are you going to shush me?” I asked, leaning forward, my lips shaping a playful grin at her sharp intake of breath.

  “I have many ways of shushing you, Mr. Petersen. You’d do well to remember them,” she said demurely, setting her mug down and standing from the stool.

  I watched her walk around the counter, watched her run her slender fingers along the marble countertop. Her eyes were dark and seductive, and when she stepped up to me, cupping the side of my face with her hand, I drew in a ragged breath.

  She considered me, standing on her tip-toes to slide her lips across mine, her free hand brushing purposely against my erection.

  Still holding my mug in one hand, I pressed my free hand against the small of her back, tugging her to me.

  She smiled, breaking the kiss, and stepped away. “You sure do.” I managed thickly.

  Gwen

  I headed home to grab a quick shower and a change of clothes before driving back to Alaric’s for the remainder of the weekend. My overnight bag sat beside me in the front seat of my car, and as I looked at it, my heart pounded erratically in my chest.

  Sure, I’d been screwing Alaric for weeks now—hungering for his touch, thirsting for any bit of attention he saw fit to give me—and here we were. Official-ish, anyway. We still had the hurdle of telling both his family and mine, but we’d mutually agreed that what we had couldn’t be described as casual.

  That was good, right? So why did I feel so nervous?

  Chewing on my bottom lip, I opened the door and grabbed my bag, telling myself that if Alaric wanted space, he wouldn’t have told me to go home, pack an overnight bag, and get my ass back as quickly as possible for that hike.