Always Box Set

by Ward, Susan

  She lay back in a languid way, allowing me to see all of her. The small feet with manicured toenails, the firm line of her long legs, the dainty lips between her legs, her narrow waist, the supple, round breasts, the graceful line of her neck, and her beautiful face surrounded by black curls.

  She’d given birth less than a year ago and the only change I could find was that her nipples were larger, darker, and more tempting. I wanted to run my tongue around them, tease them until they popped—oh fuck.

  My cock straining against my jeans was painful. I yanked off my shirt and went to the bed, planting my arms on either side of her as my mouth claimed those pouting red lips. I kissed her deeply, swirling my tongue, eased back, then plunged in again, exactly how I intended to use my cock in her.

  Her fingers spread wide on my chest, fluttering downward, brushing lower until she was working on the fastening of my pants.

  She broke the lock of lips, lowering her head to paint kisses across my abdomen as she worked my waistband from my hips.

  “Eighteen months,” she whispered, running her tongue low on me before she freed my erection. “It is too long to be without you and knowing this.”

  I pushed off my pants and kicked them from my ankles, unable to move my mouth or hands from her. I eased down, brushing my erection against her. Shivering, her hips rode up as she ran her slickness against me. The hunger in her body pulsed beneath her skin. She wanted me in her now.

  “Slowly, Lena, slowly,” I half ordered and half teased.

  A husky purr sighed from her lips as she turned until I was under her. I halted, taking in a deep breath. Most nights the pictures of her, the things we’d shared, were unrelenting. But the thoughts that rose of the things I hadn’t yet done with her were even more tormenting.

  As I stared up at her, a lust-mussed goddess too beautiful to be real, I closed my hands on her hips and lifted her up until she was sitting on my face.

  The first taste of her shot through my veins with a ragged moan. I made another run of the tongue on her lips before I peeked up at her. I’d surprised her and that sent fire to the four corners of me.

  I lightly blew into her. A tantalizing suck of her bud. My tongue ran the wetness and then plunged in as my hands made her rock against my mouth.

  I slid my legs up on the bed, knees bent, and as I devoured her I moved her hand to my pulsing erection. Tasting her made it impossible not to be touched by her.

  Her body jolted as I closed her fingers around me and her heavy breaths turned into moans. The strokes on me grew faster in time with her grinding against my mouth

  She was shuddering, and “Oh, Jack, Jack…” was an almost all-air chorus. She was close, very close.

  I brought her back beneath me and closed my mouth over her breast as I reached for a condom from the supply I kept in the small wooden box next to my bed. I stopped my assault on her pleasure centers only long enough to sheath my erection.

  Then I plunged in hard, as deep as I could go, and her back arched high, bringing her into me. I stilled and everything around us stopped except the heated breath from her lips.

  Her mouth closed on mine. She brought my hand to her breast, and I moved in her as I first had kissed her. Deep and twirling, light with only the tip, over and over again until she plunged over the edge and screamed.

  I slowly eased out and then slammed back into her. On and on as long as I could go. Her arms and legs encircled me, and my greedy mouth lifted from her breasts and everything I had shot out of me.

  My hips pulsed as I came, gently slowing, and then I turned us until she was draped across me.

  I brushed her still trembling body with my hands, kissing her wherever my lips could touch her. “I love you, Lena.”

  I didn’t notice at first that she didn’t answer me. She quieted into a small ball huddled on my chest. I reached around her to remove the condom from my flaccid dick, and when I looked back from tossing it in the trash, I froze. Lena’s gorgeous eyes were large pools of tears.

  I folded her against my chest. “What’s wrong, doll? Why are you crying?”

  She shook her head then lowered her face, the dampness from her cheek spreading across my chest.

  Oh fuck, maybe I’d been too rough. I didn’t know if her body was more fragile after having Sammy.

  “Did I hurt you?” I asked, alarmed.

  “It’s nothing. It’s silly, Jack.”

  “It’s not silly if I’ve somehow made you cry.”

  She sniffed several times then turned those enormous dark eyes on me. “It’s just…you’ve been with other girls since Santa Barbara and I can feel it when you touch me.”

  Oh fuck.

  How could a woman feel that?

  I couldn’t feel anything but Lena when I touched her.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just held her until the tears stopped, never wanting to make her feel this way again.

  There was no reason for me to feel badly about anything I’d done in Cambridge after Lena. But I felt bad anyway.

  ~~~

  A week later I married her in a small Catholic church in Brooklyn. I wanted to have a quick civil service in Cambridge, but Lena would have none of that. “A marriage without God was not a marriage,” was her reply when I suggested it. As for me, I’d given up on God and the church right after my dad married Gloria.

  The pews were nearly empty when we exchanged our vows. The guests were a hodgepodge of people: Yuri Aristov, George and Patty, and in the back row in grudging acceptance, Walter Mansur.

  He still didn’t like me, not even after I drove to New York to respectfully ask for his daughter’s hand.

  I hadn’t told my father yet I was getting married, and with Georgie’s continued worry over the decision I’d made and how quickly things were happening in my life, I decided not to tell anyone else. Reggie said flat out he thought I was throwing away my life for Lena, but none of that mattered.

  Seven days back with her confirmed I didn’t want to live another day without her. And Lena was happy, happier than I’d ever seen her before—all the assurance I needed that I was doing the right thing.

  We’d spent a grand total of sixteen days together over two years and we were married.

  Nineteen

  Even with my poor academic performance, I managed to receive two weeks’ emergency leave from my classes, and we headed off to California after our wedding night in New York City.

  I wanted to inform my father personally of my marriage, and Lena wanted to honeymoon where we’d met. Since I was pretty confident we’d be broke once the senator shut off the money faucet, I didn’t see a reason to say no to her.

  The room at the Biltmore I arranged for us was a romantic gesture I probably shouldn’t have indulged. In fact, for the first time ever I borrowed money from George to cover it. But I wanted this to be nice for Lena since reality was going to hit us both when we returned to Cambridge.

  Fuck, I had a wife, a son, and no job. Worse, I’d never had a job in my life and was woefully ill-equipped to secure one.

  I’d grown up wealthy, but wealthy I was not.

  I had inherited a small trust from my mother, dedicated and only enough to cover educational expenses. I couldn’t have used the money for anything else until I reached twenty-five whether I needed to or not.

  My future prospects seemed dim. What kind of work was there for a man who knew nothing but how to shake hands, be charming, and smile? Yep, that was pretty much my skill set at twenty, unless one counted collecting girls.

  I stared out the airplane window, trying to chart some kind of plan to get us by if things went as badly with my father as I dreaded they would. I sure as shit hadn’t learned anything useful at Harvard the past two years. I wasn’t even really working on a major. I was just there, taking up space.

  Fuck—maybe confronting my father personally wasn’t a smart move. The money would continue until the senator knew, perhaps long enou
gh for me to figure out—

  “Jack?”

  I turned in my seat to look at Lena. “Everything all right?”

  She nodded. “We’re fine, but I don’t think you are. You’ve been staring out the window, silent, for hours.”

  I smiled, tilting my head into hers. “I’m sorry, doll. Just thinking.”

  She lay her hand atop mine. “Good thoughts, bad thoughts or about”—her hand moved to my thigh—“last night?”

  “Oh, definitely last night,” I whispered, burying my lips in her curls to kiss beneath her ear. “Our wedding night is one I’ll savor in my memory forever.”

  “Forever? That good?”

  “Oh, better than good.”

  She moved with the touch of my lips for a while, then pulled back, her expression serious. “Just what I thought. You’re worried about something.”

  I laughed. “What makes you think that?”

  Her brows eased upward over her intent stare. “Intuition. Changing the subject and the way you’re kissing me.”

  “Ah, I’m being obvious again. Or maybe I’m just tired of this flight and ready for our room.”

  She did an exasperated shake of her head, but the color rose to her cheeks. “Frustrating boy. You can tell me things, you know. I am your wife.”

  I grinned. “Interesting woman. And I tell you everything, even though you are my wife.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course.”

  “You better,” she warned playfully.

  I kissed her nose. “That goes for you, too, Lena. No secrets, not ever.”

  She smiled and looked away, and the gesture bothered me. Even as my wife, she wanted to maintain an air of mystery. And in truth, I knew she withheld things from me, like her long discussions on the phone with Yuri whenever I was out of the house.

  George had let me know she was running up the long-distance charges talking about something with her confidante. How he phrased it, and that she hadn’t mentioned it, hadn’t worried me in the way Georgie intended. Not about money and not about Yuri.

  It had made me concerned she was rethinking the prospect of marrying me since, in the days leading up to the wedding, she’d seemed more concerned with her private pursuits than the ceremony getting arranged.

  George had been bold enough to say he thought she’d trapped me deliberately with the oldest play a woman could make: getting pregnant.

  Maybe, but I didn’t feel trapped.

  Reggie said he didn’t trust her, was pissed off she would be living with us until I could find some place to move my family, and thought she had some ulterior motive with me.

  That one I flat out denied.

  Both of them tried to talk me out of marrying her, but I didn’t want to believe this amazing girl beside me was there for any other reason than she loved me.

  The pilot announced we’d be on the ground in Santa Barbara soon. I lifted Sammy from her lap and pointed out the window at the city as we made a wide circle over the ocean.

  “That’s home, Sammy,” I whispered into his ear. “That will always be your home, no matter what happens this trip. Remember that.”

  I kissed him and tucked him into my chest for landing.

  Once we collected our bags, we were met by George’s parents out front waiting to take us to our hotel since I was trying to shave costs this trip any way I could, even on things as basic as cab fare.

  The Thompsons rushed forward to greet us.

  “Welcome home, Jack, and look at you. Married with a son,” Vivien Thompson exclaimed.

  I put my arm around Lena. “This is my wife, Lena. These are the Thompsons, George and Vivien.”

  Mr. Thompson’s gaze shifted to Lena as he nodded, his thoughts not well enough concealed in his gaze. Mrs. Thompson moved toward Lena and I tensed as her arms went out, since Gloria trying to slap Lena was still fresh in my mind.

  “Oh, George, look at that baby,” Mrs. Thompson gushed, taking Sammy from Lena’s arms. Vivien lifted him above her face, shaking her head and laughing. “Look at him frown at me. Oh, poor little lamb. He doesn’t know us yet, George. We’re going to be marvelous friends, Samuel. I’m Georgie’s mother. Do you know my Georgie?”

  George senior broke a smile, something he rarely did, but her comment had the opposite effect on me. My nervousness returned in full force because the preceding minutes warned that George had discussed my situation in detail with his parents, and I wasn’t sure what they thought of my marriage yet.

  “That scowl makes him look exactly like the senator, Jack,” George announced.

  “You think so, Mr. Thompson?” I asked challengingly.

  Vivien’s shining eyes shifted to me and gave a fast rebuke before she smiled again. “Oh, definitely.”

  Her gaze locked on mine, filled with meaning, and I flushed. The Thompsons were good people and I shouldn’t have forgotten that. I shouldn’t have worried they’d offend Lena and I was appalled that I had.

  “This boy is a Parker for sure,” Vivien added. “I’ve known you all your life, Jackie. I’d recognize a son of yours anywhere.”

  “Me, too.”

  She nodded approvingly, and then frowned. “Oh, what are we doing standing here after that long flight you had? You dears must be worn out. George, don’t just stand there. Help Jack get the bags into the car.”

  My nervousness waned as Mrs. Thompson guided Lena to the waiting Cadillac, chattering away with every step.

  “Thanks for picking us up, Mr. Thompson.”

  “We were glad to do it.” At the trunk, George asked, “Have you spoken to your father yet?”

  I set the bags in. “No. I’m going to call him from the room.”

  He patted me on the back. “It’s going to be fine, Jack. Your father is stubborn, but he’s a good man. Misguided at times, but a good man. And there’s no shame in you doing the right thing or forgiving him for doing otherwise. It takes a strong man to forgive. It takes a strong man to raise a family. You’re capable of both. But if you ever need help—a job, money—you come to me, son.”

  I nodded, choked up because he meant that and such things as unconditional love and support were foreign to me. They were my parents’ best friends, and he’d just let me know if forced to take sides they were siding with me. Georgie was wealthier than I was in more ways than money.

  “Thanks, Mr. Thompson.”

  “Call me George now, please. You’re a married man and you’re going to figure out soon all us married men have to stick together or the women will rule the world.”

  I shook my head even though his comment made me smile as I climbed into the passenger seat beside him.

  I looked back to make a fast check of Lena. She was glowing, trying to keep up with Vivien’s racing chatter, and she still hadn’t gotten Sammy back. Somehow Lena missed the awkwardness outside the car.

  Good. I didn’t want anything ever hurting her again.

  I love you, I assured her, moving my lips without sound.

  Me, too, she answered back before quickly turning her face toward Vivien. I turned to stare out the windshield at the passing scenery. Me, too. Every time I heard it, it was an inescapable reminder that Lena had never said I love you directly.

  I love you. You love me. What then? That was her response two years ago when I’d said I loved her.

  I fell in love with you—that’s what she said in Cambridge the night she arrived unexpectedly.

  I promise to love, she’d said during the ceremony.

  In all other moments together I never heard anything other than me, too.

  “What’s wrong, Jack?” Mr. Thompson asked, briefly shifting his gaze from the road to me.

  “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

  “Probably haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately.”

  I was momentarily flustered by the suggestiveness of that. I shrugged, and he grinned and explained, “With a baby in the house, and all.
Best see you don’t have another one too soon.”

  At the hotel, the women went into the lobby and George instructed a bellman to retrieve the bags.

  As we walked into the Biltmore, he said, “I’ve taken care of the room charges, Jackie. Our wedding gift to you.”

  He shoved his car keys and an envelope at me. I was pretty sure the envelope held money.

  I stepped back, hands held up in front of me. “I can’t take that, Mr. Thompson. Thank you, but—”

  “Hush up,” he said, shoving the contents of his hand into my breast pocket. “You need a car while here. Just leave it at the airport with the keys under the floor mat when you leave.”

  I rummaged in my pocket. “I can’t accept money from you, Mr. Thompson. Really.”

  “It’s George now, remember? And you can consider it a loan if you have to. Just pay me back when you can, Jackie.”

  I couldn’t look at him.

  His generosity made me feel good and frightened simultaneously. Jesus Christ, nothing said guy in over his head like another man giving him a loan out of nowhere.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “Thanks, George. I’ll pay you back.”

  He patted me on the shoulder, and moved toward the desk. “Come on, Vivien. Give the baby back and let’s get out of the newlyweds’ hair.”

  He winked at me as he exited the hotel with his wife.

  Inside the room, Lena went to the patio doors and pulled aside the drapes so Sammy could look out at the ocean.

  “It’s perfect, Jack. Exactly how I remember it.”

  I stepped up behind her, wrapped my arms around her, and settled my chin on her shoulder. “Are you happy?”

  “Deliciously so,” she said in her husky purr that should have made me feel better about things. But it didn’t. I was a man who’d just accepted a loan to pay for his honeymoon.

  ~~~

  Lena set the sleeping baby in the crib, then slipped back into bed beside me. She kissed my chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a more wonderful week. It makes me sorry we have to go back to Cambridge on Friday.”

  I smiled up at her. She was radiant when she was happy. I put an arm around her and started kissing her neck. “Me too. I could stay here with you forever.”