by Cari Quinn
“Most weren’t boyfriends.”
“I feel better. Not.” He tipped up her face to his. “Time for number three.”
“What?”
He picked her up, hitching her legs over his hips as he turned toward the tiles. She figured he’d just decided to break her in his way—trial by fire—until he hoisted her higher up the wall. Luckily, these ceilings were pretty high, higher than the usual bathroom, but holy shit. Was he going to—
“Grab that shower rod and hold on tight. Legs too.”
Her legs were now around his neck. His neck, for God’s sake. Her head was practically bumping the ceiling, so she ducked, leaning over him, fumbling to hold onto the shower rod and not freak the fuck out at being in such a precarious position.
Then his tongue was there, taking away everything but him. His mouth was everywhere, eating her with a ferociousness that made her gasp and arch and beg. She didn’t even know what she said. The deities she made promises to.
Water sluiced over them, still warm, adding one more layer of sensation as he lapped at her clit and shifted her until he could slide his tongue all the way inside. Jesus. Her thighs were already shaking, and he still had no fucking hair to grab on to.
So she grabbed his ear to direct him, making him choke out a laugh. He didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down. Maybe he’d been reluctant to explore this part of sex—selfish fucker—but he was learning fast. In fact, she’d have to say he was ruining the curve for everyone else.
Anyone else, ever.
Her fingers slid off the slick shower rod and she scrabbled to hold on as her back bowed. There wasn’t time to warn him, but he had to know. Her body was at his mercy. His tongue was like a freaking spear, filling her just right while he bounced her up and down just enough to give her the friction she needed.
Then he sucked on her clit and she jolted upward, hitting her head on the goddamned ceiling as her climax blasted through her. It would’ve buckled her legs if she hadn’t had them wrapped around his head.
She screamed. That might’ve been from the pain in her head too, but it was mostly from the O spinning through her limbs and sparking stars through her vision.
He didn’t even give her time to recover before he was dragging her down his body and turning her around, parting her slick thighs and thrusting so deep inside that she came again, just from a single searing stroke.
“Christ. Fuck. No condom.” He started to pull out, but she dug her nails into his hip, rocking back on him as she turned her head to kiss him frantically.
“I’m on the Pill,” she panted when she finally needed to take a breath.
“Thank God.” His lips raced over hers, moving down to the pulse point just below her jaw. “Hang on to me.”
She already was.
He was relentless, driving her up again with short, churning strokes. His thumb found her clit and she bucked back against him, turning her head so he could feast on her neck while he ravaged the rest of her. If anything, he was even wilder than he’d been the night before. More desperate. His other hand came up to squeeze her breasts and for a second, she was sure he must have five of them. It seemed as if he was touching her everywhere at once. Enveloping her in the best freaking way.
“Can’t hold on,” he growled into her ear, trying to pull back again.
“In me. All in.” No way was he wasting it on her back or her belly or her breasts. She was greedy enough to want every drop inside her.
“Shit, you feel so—Ricki.” His teeth grazed the side of her neck and that combined with the grind of his thumb right where she needed it sent her over one more time.
Shuddering, crying out, she dragged him right along with her.
They crumpled against the wall, his heavy weight pressing her still-tight nipples into the warm tiles.
When she could breathe again, she turned her head. “Don’t think I’m any cleaner yet.”
He laughed and the sound made her grin. She could become addicted to that too.
Every part of him lured her, more and more.
“No, you’re a fucking dirty girl and I love it.” He smacked her ass and picked her up again, plopping her down in front of the now cool spray before drizzling body wash between her breasts and over her pussy. “Hate cleaning you up before I’ve gotten my mouth on you again.”
She sucked in a breath. “Speaking of fucking dirty…”
“Problem?”
She tipped her head back and grinned at him. “Only that we didn’t do this two years ago.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Mal had never spent half a day decorating and ho-ho-hoing before—well, not since he was a kid. Somehow he had even enjoyed most of it. His grandparents had spent the bulk of their time with them, except when they had chores to do. But his patience was at an end.
Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion Ricki liked his snark. She always seemed to be ready with some of her own to throw back at him.
“I think this is probably enough lights now? And decorations?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm as he gestured around them at the assorted blow-up creatures filling the pasture. “And fucking everything?”
“Almost done.” Ricki reached around a giant inflatable snowman with a jaunty red scarf and flicked some button on his ass that made a tinny rendition of Elvis’s “Blue Christmas” fill the air. She moved back and clapped her gloved hands, wincing a little with the motion.
She’d only grabbed the gloves off the shelf in the gift shop at his insistence. For an incredible guitarist, she did a shit job of protecting her instrument—aka herself.
“There. That’s perfect.” She caught her tongue between her teeth and flashed him a teasing look. “Don’t you think so?”
Lola, the excitable golden retriever that had been there almost as long as Mal had been coming around, raced around the assembly of blow-ups, barking up a storm. Mal sidestepped her and aimed straight for Ricki. “You’ve got the devil in you.”
“Not right now, but I did a bunch last night. And this morning. And hopefully tonight too.”
“Uh-huh. C’mere.” He slipped his hand in the back pocket of her jeans to yank her close.
His mouth was already on hers when Lola’s barks turned sharp and pronounced, signaling someone had arrived. It was late afternoon, which meant the apple barn and shops were still open. There had been a steady stream of foot traffic all day.
He’d turned off his phone the moment he’d awakened. The investigators might want to talk to him, but the fact was he didn’t know anything they didn’t. And this right here? It was everything.
Every-fucking-thing.
The back door off the kitchen opened, and he started to lift his head. Then Ricki grasped a handful of his sweatshirt and curled her tongue around his. Just like that, he forgot the damn door and the inflatable insanity and everything but the feel of her pressed so tightly against him.
He’d found his own personal heaven, and it was sinking into Richelle Crandall.
“Ricki.”
She didn’t move at first. Neither did he. The familiar female voice barely intruded on the buzz in his brain.
Ricki’s eyes flared wide as understanding dawned and she slipped back, still holding on to the front of his sweatshirt. Even as she turned toward Lila, she didn’t let him go.
In that moment, he fell in love with her even more—and he was already miles deep.
“Li. This is a surprise.”
“I see that.” Lila didn’t come down off the stoop into the yard, just kept her distance and cupped her elbows in her thin jacket. “Explains why your texts have been so sporadic though.”
“Does it? I figured as long as I checked in daily, that would reassure you both that I hadn’t gone off on a bender.” She dug her fingers even tighter into Mal’s coat. “But since you’re here and honesty is an important part of my sobriety, I should tell you I did go off on a bender. A fairly big one.”
Lila cupped her hand over her mouth, saying nothing.
Ricki moved closer to the stoop, dragging him with her. Probably so she didn’t have to talk so loud over the rising wind. The sky had been threatening snow all day, but other than a few flakes, it hadn’t produced.
She’d been so bummed about that. California girl just wanted to see some snow.
He wished like hell he could make snow fall for her. That he could pile up enough around them that they could stay here and never have to go back if she didn’t want to. Or deal with any of this, period.
“You know why I didn’t keep spiraling?”
“Ricki.” He covered her hand still on his jacket with his own.
“Well, there were two reasons,” she said as if she hadn’t heard him. “One, I was pretty much under house arrest and threatened with losing the most important things—and people—in my life if I didn’t get my act straight.”
Lila dropped her hand and stopped staring at Ricki long enough to stare at him. “House arrest?”
He jerked a shoulder. “Seemed to work well enough at the time.”
“It was the bucket of cold water I needed. But that wasn’t all. I talked to my sponsor, and I tried to focus on what mattered most. The present moment. Getting through that one and not worrying about the rest.”
Lila’s exhale plumed out in the cold air. “Did it work?”
“Ask me tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next. Every day for the rest of my life, I’m going to be figuring out how to make it through each day on my own steam. Hopefully, I’ll have help. I’ve already had more than I ever expected.” She glanced back at him, and between the warm pink of her cheeks and the fire in her eyes, he couldn’t look away.
She was sexiest when she was strong. And she was getting stronger with every minute that passed.
He didn’t know if he’d had anything to do with that. Maybe he’d acted as a reminder to her of what she could and couldn’t control. All the crap from back home—Jules and Randy, and playing with the band again, and the guilt he knew still ate at her—didn’t make a damn bit of difference if she lost herself.
But Jesus, watching her find herself again was a beautiful thing.
“You always have help. Your brother and I would move the world to help you. You know that. You don’t even have to ask. If you want to move in with us for a while, we have plenty of room. The girls would love to have their favorite aunt around.”
Mal did his best not to tighten his grip on Ricki’s hand. He knew quite well what his stepmother was intimating. He didn’t doubt for a minute that she was genuinely concerned about Ricki—that was what had brought him into her life, after all—but he also recognized a two-stones-one-bush situation when he saw one.
If Ricki moved in, she’d be under their roof and easier to keep an eye on, both when it came to drugs and when it came to Mal. Hard to say which Lila was more worried about.
Frankly, he was amazed Lila hadn’t come right out and said it yet.
Worst of all? If he’d been his brother—before his brother had become a happily married father, that is—Lila would’ve been dancing in the streets. Mike was a good guy. Mal was not. Handy when she needed him, but otherwise? Exit stage left.
“That’s really sweet of you. You know how much I love those girls, even if I’m their only aunt.” Ricki smiled. “But when I go home, I’m going back where I belong.” She moved not-so-subtly closer to Mal. “Back to my apartment and back to the bus.”
“I can see why you’d want to.” Lila glanced between them and cleared her throat. “I wondered if you two would see each other while you were both here in New York.”
Neither of them said anything. What was there to say? It was obvious they’d been doing plenty of seeing.
This was one of the many reasons he no longer yearned to have a regular family anymore as he had when he was younger. They asked too many questions. Took so much ownership of you that just living your life could seem like a betrayal.
He was waiting for that sense of betrayal to filter into Ricki’s expression. So far? She was standing firm.
“I don’t have a problem with it,” Lila said after a long moment passed.
“Really?” Ricki cocked a brow. “Considering you haven’t even said hello to your own stepson and you’ve been here how long now?”
Mal slid her a glance. Okay, that he hadn’t expected. He should have. She’d always been like a mother cub about those she cared about. He just hadn’t ever anticipated being in that category. Usually, he was the one getting swiped by her paw, claws out.
“He’s not my stepson any longer, though that wouldn’t matter to me if he’d ever shown any interest in us being family.” The wind kicked up, sending leaves skittering across the stoop. Lila turned toward the kitchen door. “Let’s have this conversation inside.”
“Let’s not.” Ricki dropped her hand from his jacket and instead, locked her fingers with his. “You have to understand why it was hard for him, you coming in when his father was divorcing his mother. Being part of the reason for that, even if it wasn’t your fault.”
“Don’t do this,” he said, voice low, his hand tensing around hers.
“It needs to be done. We all have too much we don’t talk about, and secrets harm people. They’ve harmed me. The stuff you’ve plotted behind my back, even if it was for my benefit, harmed me, Li.” As Lila turned back, Ricki gentled her voice. “I know how you sent him after me. Long before the band. I wondered why it always seemed like he had insider information on me, but now it’s clear.”
“I should’ve known.” Lila flashed Mal a hard stare. “Instead of focusing on each other, he chose to take this opportunity to cause issues between you and me.”
“I never intended to tell her. But she asked me, flat out, because she was starting to remember. You expect me to look into her face and lie? I’ve done shit like that for too long.” He pulled off the glove on his other hand with his teeth. He was burning up in this damn coat and gloves. “No more.”
Lila swept a hand over her hair, tucking it back under her pale purple scarf. She was rattled, no doubt about it. “Everything I’ve ever done regarding you has been because of love.”
For the first time, Ricki let him go and walked up the stoop to take both of Lila’s gloved hands in her own. “I know that. You think I don’t know that? You’re my sister. I love you so much.”
Mal nearly tripped halfway up the second stair as he glimpsed Lila’s eyes filling with tears before she buried her face in Ricki’s shoulder. He frowned and stopped, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. One gloved and still warm from Ricki’s grip, the other already getting cold.
Somehow that was a good metaphor for his life.
Lila eased back and rubbed her gloved fingers under her eyes. “I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you’d be angry. You have every right to be.”
“I was, and I am still, a little. Mostly at myself that you’ve felt like you had to save me from myself. Nicky too.”
“Nick doesn’t know about that.”
“What?”
Lila lowered her head. “The thing with Mal… No. He had no idea. Still doesn’t.”
“I didn’t think you two had any secrets.”
“We don’t.” Lila tipped back her head. “Except this.”
“So you should tell him. I don’t want to be standing between you guys in any way. That’s not fair. Even if it was your decision to handle things that way, if I hadn’t been such a colossal screw-up, you wouldn’t have felt you needed to.” She pivoted to encompass Mal in what she was saying. “Like when you had to help me dry out. I pushed you to that point. Did you have to do that? No. But you did because you cared. Because thank fucking God, even with all my fuck-ups, somehow people still care about me.”
“Don’t cry,” Mal rasped. “Not today.”
“I’m not going to. It’s been a good day. A very good day, and I need to stack those together.” Ricki reached out toward him, pulling him into the circle, and though his feet did not want t
o move, the rest of him did.
For fucking once, he didn’t want to be on the outside looking in.
“I’m going to go inside now,” Ricki said, “and visit with your parents and see where Lola disappeared to.”
Lila smiled, still wiping her eyes. “My dad bribed her with sweet potato biscuits so we could have a few minutes. They’re her favorite.”
“Ah, is that the secret? I’ll remember that.” Ricki glanced at Mal and lifted her eyebrows. “I think you two need to talk privately. Don’t you?” Before Mal could reply, she held up a finger. “I’m trying to scale a hell of a lot of mountains right now. You can try to scale a little eensy teensy fence.”
Mal heaved out a breath, squeezing her hand before he let go. “Yeah. Okay.”
Lila had been on the verge of saying something, but she fell silent. And stared at him as if he’d possibly sprouted a thick white beard and renamed himself Santa Claus.
“Okay. Going in now. No bloodshed, because you’re both very important to me.” She kissed Lila’s forehead and then shifted to kiss him dead on the mouth, for probably a good half a minute. Her eyes held more support than he’d ever received from anyone, ever.
No matter what happened, she’d respect him for trying and she’d let it alone. He knew that much just from her expression.
Already he knew so much about her, and he didn’t know if it came from the years spent in the periphery of her company or instinct or both. But he was grateful for it. He didn’t have to doubt her or wonder if she was bullshitting him. Her truth was always right on her face.
Even so, the second she left them and that kitchen door swung shut, he wanted to bolt from that damn stoop. Going out to make sure all the lights strung up on the fences seemed preferable to emotional shit with a woman he’d never wanted to get close to for a myriad of reasons.
Top of the list? He’d already been fucked over by people who claimed to care about him. He wasn’t about to believe anyone else he wasn’t sure he could trust. Sure, she loved Mike. She’d proven that over and over again.