Then He Kissed Me: A Cottonbloom Novel

by Laura Trentham

  “He’ll never respect me nor let you go if I don’t. Anyway, this fight has been a long time coming.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He made going to school a gut-wrenching experience for me. I was too weak and intimidated to fight back then.” He yawned, and his hand drifted over her backside and squeezed. “Anyway, I might surprise you.”

  If he was trying to distract her, it was working. Before her back could arch and rational thought left the building, she popped up on an elbow. “Look, I know you’ve boxed, and I saw you in the gym. You can pound a bag and jump rope, but Heath has trained with MMA-type fighters. He won’t let you circle him in the ring and jab a few times, he’ll take you down and choke you out.”

  “Fighting is the only language men like him understand.” He hummed, yawned, and rolled to his back. “Duels date back since before the written word, you know.”

  “So men have acted infantile since the beginning of time?”

  He answered with a soft laugh that trailed into the darkness. Adrenaline left echoes in her bloodstream, keying her up and making it difficult to drift off. Every time she did, the picture of a bloody, beaten Nash acted like a set of jumper cables.

  Notching herself into his side, she lay her head on his shoulder, her hand over his heart. She measured time by the rise and fall of his chest, and somewhere in the darkness, sleep claimed her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Her internal alarm pulled her from a deep sleep. She didn’t want to leave her erotically charged dream. Not yet. Heat pooled in her belly and spread like wildfire. Her body was primed. The details were fading, but a naked, very aroused Nash had been involved.

  Instead of dissipating upon waking, the need to climax coiled tighter. An appreciative rumble had her eyes popping open, her mind moving slowly, but finally moving. Dawn light fuzzed the room. A dark head was between her legs. A tongue lashed her; lips claimed her.

  The jolt of reality versus dream should have squashed her arousal. Instead, she wanted to cry out in thanks. She drove her hands into his hair and fisted the strands inciting another rumbling moan. He cupped her buttocks, his hands big and warm and tilting her toward his mouth. She flattened her feet on the bed and pressed higher.

  Nonsense words flew out of her mouth. Later she’d be embarrassed, but for now all she cared about was chasing her pleasure. It was a foreign feeling.

  One of his fingers barely breeched her, tossing her into an orgasm so intense she wondered for a moment whether it was a dream after all. Finally, she became aware of the cotton sheets underneath her, the softness of his hair in her hands, his shoulders pressing against her inner thighs, her legs splayed to the side, her bones molten.

  The bed shifted, and she opened her eyes into his. No glasses to dissipate the warmth. He was smiling and looking rather pleased with himself. And why wouldn’t he be? His body hovered a few inches above her, his erection straining toward her like a divining rod.

  “I’ve never been woken up that way.”

  “You were kind of asking for it.”

  She blinked a few times, her lassitude fading. “What?”

  “You woke me up muttering something. At first I thought you were awake, but then I realized … woman, you’ve got a dirty mind.”

  She reached out and pulled at the sheet for protection, even if it were foolish at this point. “What did I say?”

  He brushed the sheet away and trapped her wrists in one of his hands above her head. His body dropped over hers, the wet head of his erection on her belly. He nuzzled his face next to hers. “You were dreaming about me. Said my name while you touched yourself. Begged me to lick you.”

  “Ohmigod.” She tugged on her hands, but his grip firmed.

  “Don’t freak out. I loved it and based on your reaction, so did you.” His admission muffled her embarrassment, and her legs cut against his as he lay kisses from her ear to her mouth. “I dreamed about you too, Tallulah.”

  Every time he said her name in that husky lilty way, it was like an injection of sugar into her bloodstream, even as the feeling of his big body covering her was a flint to her arousal. “What did you dream about?”

  “I dreamed I was taking you from behind. Hard and rough.”

  She was surprised … and even a little disappointed. It was a position that gave him the power. Although, she had no right to complain, considering he had made her dream come true. She could be just as unselfish for him.

  “Let’s make your dreams come true.” She tried to inject tease into her voice.

  A primitive growly noise vibrated his chest against hers, and he dropped his face to nip at her neck. After pushing back onto his heels between her legs, he helped her flip, and she assumed the position on her hands and knees.

  She waited for him to take her. Instead he scraped his fingernails down her back from shoulders to buttocks, liquefying her knees. He gripped her hips, his fingers biting into her flesh a little harder than was comfortable, and pushed slowly inside of her.

  He hummed. “That looks amazing.”

  Her breath stilled. He was watching them. She closed her eyes, jealous of his view. Her elbows quivered. “I thought … I thought you wanted it rough?” Her voice wasn’t too steady either.

  “Only when you’re ready to handle it, and I don’t think you are. Shall we get you ready?”

  She didn’t have the breath to ask how he planned to prepare her. He took one long slow stroke into her body. His hand delved in her hair and massaged her scalp. He tugged. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make her want more.

  He wrapped one arm around her waist, while his hand continued to pull at her hair. Her body followed his directions until she was upright on her knees with his chest pressed tight against her back. His hands moved to her breasts, gently yet systematically driving her to the brink of insanity. She squirmed, still impaled on his erection.

  “Touch yourself. I want you to climax again, this time with me inside of you. Then I’m going to let loose on you, baby.”

  Where had Nash learned to talk like that? Suddenly she wanted nothing more than for him to let loose on her, knowing somehow that he’d make it good for her. She dropped her hand to between her legs.

  With his lips at her temple and his hands on her breasts, an orgasm racked her body after an embarrassingly short time. Now he thrust but held her upright, his fingers joining hers, his touch rougher than hers, and that much more arousing.

  He pushed her back over to her hands and knees, his hand around her nape and finally fulfilled his promise. He slammed into her, pushing her up the bed, and she urged him on with breathy encouragements, popping her butt up higher.

  A roar accompanied his final thrust. She felt his climax not only in the bucking of his hips against her, but in the pulse of him inside of her. She reached back and grabbed his leg, holding him against her. He curled over her, chest to back, his weight diving her flat to the mattress underneath him.

  Instead of rolling off, he threaded his fingers through hers and nuzzled her hair aside. “I could get used to waking up like that every morning. How about you?”

  Of course she could. Her stomach churned like an out-of-balance washing machine. She squirmed to the side, not making much headway with his weight anchoring her. “I really should—”

  “There’s nothing you should be doing except lying here with me.” He shifted off her but kept a big, warm hand pressed against her lower back. She didn’t argue. Truth was she didn’t want to leave him. He lay kisses down her spine and massaged her backside.

  An indeterminate amount of time passed while she enjoyed his touch. Languidly, she raised her head. The digital clock incited a mild panic. “Nuts! I’m going to be late.” She sat on the edge of the bed, her knees weak and trembly.

  “Can Reed open the gym?”

  She had asked Reed to cover for her too often of late. “He closed for me last night so I could come see you. They’ll be a line of people waiting to get in
for their morning workout.”

  She attempted an air of nonchalance while she pulled on her standard workout gear but when she snuck a glance, she found him staring at her with a smile on his face. She smiled back.

  He rose and stretched. He might as well be holding a neon sign reading BEHOLD AND SALIVATE. She did. He slipped on his boxer briefs, breaking her trancelike state.

  “I’m going to be working on the gazebo later. Maybe you could bring me a Coke during one of your slow times?”

  “Sure.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.

  They left her apartment together and met Ms. Effie coming up the stairs in her robe, holding a mug of coffee and a morning paper. The huge grin and not-so-subtle thumbs-up only flushed more heat into Tally’s face.

  Could things get any more awkward? Yes, they could. She backed toward her car. “Okay, so I’ll see you later?”

  His eyes narrowed, and he matched her step for step until she bumped into her fender. His arm came around her waist and brought her flush against him. “A week ago, I might have let you scurry away to your safe place to wonder and doubt and nitpick at what we’re building. But, not after last night”—he dropped his lips to her ear—“and this morning.”

  “What are we building?”

  “You still don’t know? How about I leave you with a reminder.”

  Her lips parted on another question, but his kiss silenced her. His lips were soft yet unyielding. His kiss took but gave even more. His control surprised and aroused her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and anchored herself to him.

  Her world seemed to tilt, her emotions veering off course. The only stable force was the cause of the chaos. She clung to him even as he threatened to wreck her. As his lips took hers in one drugging, sensual kiss after another, she realized no matter what, she’d never be the same. There was no use in protecting herself against something that had already happened.

  He pulled away. An eternity had passed yet the sun still sat low, the orange light of dawn stretching across the sky. More than anyone, she understood how life could change in an instant.

  “Now, then—” His thumbs caressed both her cheeks in hypnotic strokes. “I want you to promise me not to overthink things.”

  “I promise,” she said as if truly hypnotized.

  “You’re going to come over to my place after you close up the gym. Bring everything you need for the morning.”

  Again, she nodded as if under his spell.

  He kissed the tip of her nose and left her sagging against the trunk of her car. She was feeling the urge to run again, but this time straight into his arms. Instead, she watched him drive off and slid behind the wheel with a smile on her face. She was done fighting.

  * * *

  The next days and nights passed in a haze of happiness and lust. The days at the gym were long, and her nights with Nash even longer. They made love, but instead of hightailing out of his bed, she lazed in his arms while they talked about nothing and everything. Dawn kept sneaking in too soon, separating them.

  The only contentious moments came when she brought up the fight with Heath. Responsibility weighed heavy on her conscience. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be putting himself at risk. He refused to discuss it. After a few days with no developments, she decided the men were all talk, which suited her fine.

  Reed had volunteered to close the gym, so Tally and Nash could grab an early dinner. Tally was content to laze on the couch in his arms. She’d even convinced him to watch The Bachelor with her. He laughed as if it was a comedy and not a dating show. Halfway through, her phone buzzed. Sawyer’s name popped up. “What’s up?”

  “Don’t suppose you’ve heard from Uncle Del today?” The clang of metal sounded in the background.

  She pushed up from Nash’s chest. “No, why?”

  “He hasn’t been answering his phone. I’d run out there, but Cade and I are in the middle of a two-man job out at the shop. You mind checking on him?”

  “Not a bit. I’ll run out there now.”

  “Text me if you need me.” A beep signaled his disconnect.

  “What’s wrong?” Nash had joined her on the edge of the couch.

  “Uncle Del’s gone incommunicado. He’s probably fine, but now that he’s older, one of us tries to keep tabs on him. His place is secluded. I’m going to drive by and check on him. Do you want to meet up later or call it a night?”

  “I’ll ride out with you unless you’d rather be alone.”

  Was this a test? She chewed on the inside of her cheek. Monroe’s words came back to her. Nash wasn’t judging her or laying a trap. “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “Of course not.”

  “In that case, we’d best take the Defender. The track to his place can get washed out in the summer.”

  They were largely silent until he pulled onto the parish highway. “Does he go incommunicado often? And, by incommunicado, I’m assuming you mean drunk.”

  A half smile snuck past her worry. “Once a year if that these days. A little more often when we were kids. It’s why he could never hold down a job for more than a few months.”

  “How in the world did he take care of you?”

  “He didn’t. Cade took care of us. All of us. Covered as much as he could for Uncle Del, so the state wouldn’t interfere.”

  “How so?”

  “Uncle Delmar was officially our guardian. He tried, he really did. He hunted for us. Taught Cade how to hunt. Cade was afraid if the state caught wind, they’d split us up into foster homes.” Tally fiddled with a string on the hem of her shorts.

  He was quiet as they pulled up in front of Uncle Del’s house. She could imagine what he saw. The ramshackle house spoke of poverty. Dark green paint flecked off buckled clapboards, a couple of car engines sat out front, exposed to the elements. Various other metal objects sprouted out of the ground like shrubbery.

  The engine sputtered off, leaving a heavy silence. Tally opened her door, but paused when it was clear Nash wasn’t following her. His hands were gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white. The sounds of the river snaked into the cab on a breeze. Everything smelled different. Swampier and more verdant.

  “You all lived here?” He gestured out the window, and Tally couldn’t decide what emotion thickened his voice.

  “Actually, we lived in a trailer past those trees.” She pointed toward the copse of pines. “Cade tried to go to school and work, but he barely brought in enough to keep us fed and clothed. The mortgage on top of the funeral expenses was impossible. Selling out was the only option.”

  Moving from the comfortable middle-class brick ranch into the decrepit trailer had seemed like the beginning of a dark fairytale. Cade had tried his best, hanging the frilly, pink curtains from her old room over the dingy, taped-up window of the back bedroom she shared with Sawyer.

  They only reminded her of everything she’d lost. Not long afterward, she’d stripped the tiny room of her old life and burned it all in a clearing in the woods. The smoke had brought Cade running, but he’d found her dry-eyed and resolute in her mission. He didn’t panic or yell, just put his arm around her shoulders as her memories burned.

  “You can stay in the truck if you want, Nash. It’s okay.” And it was okay. Because they were sleeping together didn’t mean he had to deal with her drunk uncle and crazy ex.

  She climbed the decrepit front porch stairs and pounded on the door, rattling the windows. If her uncle were on a binge, it would take more than a ladylike rap to rouse him. She tried again, this time yelling, “Uncle Delmar, you in there?”

  No answer. The porch sagged another inch as Nash came up behind her. She risked a glance over her shoulder. His expression was serious, his brows drawn together. She jiggled the door handle, not surprised to find it unlocked, and popped her head inside. “Uncle Delmar?”

  “In here.” Her uncle’s voice was soft but not slurred.

  Nash stepped inside behind her, his bulk filling the small fo
yer. The interior was dim and she blinked, her Fournette eyes becoming accustomed to the dark quickly. Her uncle was sitting in the middle of his couch in the den. A stale, mothball odor emanated from the walls. She gave Nash another out, whispering, “You can wait outside.”

  He closed the door, casting them in deep shadows. “You don’t have to manage him alone. That’s why I’m here. For you.”

  His words shocked her into immobility. He brushed by her, laying his hands on her shoulders for a quick squeeze, before taking the lead. He stepped into Delmar’s small den and knelt in front of him.

  “It’s Nash Hawthorne, sir. I’m here with Tally to check on you.”

  She leaned against the doorjamb. The pines filtered the light from the setting sun through a side window, providing the only light.

  “Ah, Nash. Your mama was good people, God rest her soul.” Uncle Del patted Nash on the shoulder.

  “Yes, sir, she was.”

  “Your aunt too. Leora, sweet Leora.”

  Tally straightened in the doorway, exchanging a glance with Nash. She sat close to her uncle, taking his hand. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m as sober as the preacher on Sunday, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “You’re not sick, are you? Sawyer said you weren’t answering your phone.”

  “Nothing a doctor can help with. Feeling my age, I guess. Didn’t much want to talk to anyone to be honest. I’ve been sitting here thinking, wondering how things might have been different.”

  She could feel Nash’s gaze on her, but stayed focused on her uncle. The moment took on an importance she couldn’t quantify. “Was Ms. Leora your sweetheart?”

  His head fell back on the couch and he was silent, his eyes open, but unseeing. “We were going to get married as soon as my tour was done. ’Cept, my tour never ended. I kept fighting the Viet Cong even after I was home.” He squeezed her hand and raised his free hand to the scars on his face.

  “My aunt broke off the engagement?” Nash asked.

  “I never blamed her. I wasn’t the same man she’d fallen in love with. I turned into someone unlovable.”