Make Me Believe: Unbelievable, Book 3

by Crystal Jordan

  “Oh.” How sad was it that she hadn’t even considered that option? When was the last time she’d been surprised by something good? She couldn’t remember. She had things she’d worked her ass off for, but a nice gift from fate? Maybe never.

  Letting a few beats of silence pass, he continued the conversation. “So…you sort of grew up in Cedarville, but not really? People here talk about you as if you’d been here your whole life.”

  “Hardly.” She sighed, plucking at the edge of a pillowcase and debating whether she should tell him anything about her life. It would open the door for something she’d been trying to avoid for weeks—hell, the last year. Letting him in, even a little, was a scary thought. Then again, he could ask just about anyone in Cedarville and they’d tell him anything he wanted to know. They did know her here, her past, but as she’d told him, such was a life in a small town. “I stayed here with my aunt Grace during the summers. My mom passed away when I was fifteen, so I moved here and finished high school.”

  “No dad?”

  “He took off when I was about six.” She shrugged, a short laugh spilling out of her. “What can I say? Bad taste in men runs in the family. Aunt Grace was married five times, mom had just dumped number four before she died, and I’ve been hitched twice. Unfortunately.”

  “What happened?” There was no judgment in his voice, no demand, which was the only reason she was willing to answer.

  “The first one was my fault. After my mom passed, I went a little rebellious. My aunt was good to me, but she was strict and I didn’t want to listen to anyone or follow anyone’s rules.” She took a sip of her wine, letting the mellowness of it roll over her tongue. With any luck, it would take the edge off of the pain slicing through her. “I hooked up with the town bad boy, we eloped to Seattle, and three years later, he still wanted the sex, drugs and rock and roll lifestyle. I was too young and stupid to know what I wanted, but I knew it wasn’t that. So, I dumped him and enrolled in a community college for business and cosmetology.” That had been a rough time in her life. She’d stumbled through figuring out who she was, and she had the emotional scars to prove it. Her heart wrenched even thinking about it. “I worked my ass off, but it was the first time since my mom died that I felt like I wasn’t completely…lost.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Just that. No outpouring of sympathy or censure because she’d been a dumb kid. It was comforting, and her chest warmed.

  She offered him a lopsided smile. “Thanks. It was a long time ago.”

  “His loss.” He reached over and ran a comforting hand down her shoulder. A shiver went through her, half in longing for his empathy and half in utter awareness of him as a man. “I bet he’s still smoking pot and strumming his guitar.”

  She laughed, and it felt like it straggled past a weight that had been pressing down on her chest for far too long. When was the last time she’d actually talked about this to anyone? Everyone knew about it—secrets were impossible to keep in Cedarville—but no one had ever wanted to discuss it with her. Not that she would have welcomed the topic, because, well, her past wasn’t great, so why not focus on what was good? Right now was awesome.

  “How did husband number two happen?”

  She sighed. “You know, I don’t really like to dwell on this stuff.”

  “I told you about me… I’m just hoping you’ll return the favor.” He squeezed the back of her neck, letting her fall into silence for long minutes.

  “Yeah. Okay.” She picked up a pillow and brushed a hand over it, wiping away an invisible crumb. He had shared his past with her. It seemed only fair, when he put it that way. “So, I was a stylist in Seattle for about eight years and I was doing really well—”

  “What made you come back here?” He jumped on the opening, and she fought back a smile.

  She bumped his shoulder with hers. “I’m getting to that, Mr. Pushy.”

  “Right, sorry.” He shot her a quick, self-deprecating grin. “Keep going.”

  Any urge to smile passed as all the ugly memories came flooding back. She swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “One day I got a call from Aunt Grace. She was sick. Breast cancer. It had already metastasized and spread…everywhere. There was nothing they could do for her except make her comfortable. So, I came back to live with her until the end.” Her heart cinched so tight it was all she could do not to cry. Even five years later, it hurt to have lost that old lady. The last of her family. Gone. Her throat closed, saltiness burning at the backs of her eyes. She realized her hands were balled in the pillow, and she consciously relaxed her grip. “It was the least I could do after she took me in as a hellion teen, you know?”

  “Yeah.” His fingers tangled in her hair, brushing the short strands away from her face.

  She cleared her throat, not allowing herself to lean into his touch. But she wanted to. God, she wanted to. “Husband number two was her doctor. I was still grieving over Grace, and he’d been through the end with me. It just seemed natural, easy. We were together for a couple of years, and we were both workaholics. I was trying to get Occam’s Razor off the ground and he was a doctor, so we were like ships passing in the night. We never saw each other.” Her shoulder twitched in a shrug. “It didn’t really surprise me when he left me for one of the nurses at the hospital. It did surprise me how little I cared.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah.” She braced herself before she turned to look at him. She had no idea what she’d see in his eyes—sympathy or pity or anything in between. Having put this behind her and not talking about it meant she didn’t know how other people saw her. Usually, she wouldn’t care, but somewhere in the last few weeks, his opinion had become important to her. More important than she’d like to admit. But there was only compassion in his green gaze. Of course, with his past he understood. He continued stroking her hair. His lips were a hairsbreadth from hers, he was so close to her now. “So that was the end of my second marriage.”

  “I’m sorry.” He brushed his mouth over hers, the sweetest kiss she’d ever had. It made that hot moisture burn her eyes again.

  She threw herself into his embrace, wanting the comfort that he offered, wanting anything that would distract her from the devastating emotions she’d dredged up. She shouldn’t go there, shouldn’t give in, because it would only weaken her more in this relationship war they waged, but right then, she couldn’t give a flying rat’s ass about shoulds.

  The way he touched her was gentle, as if he feared she might break, as if she were precious to him. Her heart stumbled at the thought, and she wasn’t sure if it was in longing or in terror.

  He broke his mouth from her, raining kisses over her face. “Have I told you today how beautiful you are?”

  “No.” A dart of mischief went through her, and she seized on that instead of all the other things she couldn’t handle right now. Avoidance was her friend. “I know something you’d think was even more beautiful.”

  That made him laugh. “Nothing is more beautiful than you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She wiggled out of his arms and moved toward her dresser, knowing he stared at her ass the entire time, and loving it. He made it clear how much he wanted her, all the time. It was erotic having him watch her, made everything else fade from her mind. Desire swam through her, warmed her body from the inside out. Her nipples gathered into peaks, the lips of her pussy dampening with moisture. Yes, this was how she wanted it. This was how it should be. Not to avoid pain, but just for pleasure.

  She pulled something out of her dresser drawer and tossed it to him. His hand snapped out and caught it, then looked down at it. Evil anticipation twisted through her, and she just waited.

  After a moment, his entire body froze, then a shudder wracked him. He slowly held up a sheer teddy. “Holy shit.”

  “My normal lingerie is for myself. That kind of thing is for sleepovers.” She arched an eyebrow. “Should I get changed for bed?”

  As if they hadn’t been in bed for hours, but that
was entirely beside the point.

  “Holy shit,” he said again. He looked up at her, his erection rising to impressive proportions, his mouth working for a long moment before he spoke. “So…you think I’ll think you’re even more beautiful wearing this?”

  The dazed look on his face made that wickedness dance through her again. “Yeah, Delacroix, that’s the idea. Try to keep up.”

  He blinked. Blinked again. Shook his head. “I would, but there’s no blood left in my brain.”

  She laughed. “Give it to me.”

  “I intend to. All night long, if you’re in this thing.” He held it up by the straps. It had a tie at the neck, in the back and one at each hip. The rest was see-through fishnet. He tossed it to her, crossed his arms, and waited, clearly intent on watching her change into the racy getup.

  A flush of heat went through her, half-bashfulness, half-arousal. She set the teddy on the end of the bed—her pulse sped, and she’d never been so aware of a man’s gaze moving over her. She pulled the top tie of the teddy over her head, reached behind her to fasten the one in the back, then did the same for those at her hips. A shiver went through her as the fishnet rubbed against her breasts, making her nipples harden to painful points.

  Lust whipped through her, liquified her core. The fact that he could see everything through the lingerie made her feel more naked than when she had no clothes on. She offered him the bravest smile she could muster. “All night long, huh? Prove it.”

  The green fire in his eyes was enough to burn her, but he hesitated. “Are you sure this is what you want tonight?”

  She had to respect that he asked, considering what she was wearing and that she could see the rigid proof of his arousal. “I don’t want to think about the past, just the now. Distract me, Mason. All night, if you can.”

  “I can. I will.” He grinned then, slow and full of naughty promise. “Come here.”

  “You come here.” Shaking her head, she beckoned to him. He didn’t hesitate, rolling to his feet to move toward her.

  All those hard muscles bunched and rippled, his cock jutting upward. She loved looking at him. And he looked at her too. His gaze traveled up from her feet to her bare legs. He paused at the thatch of hair between her thighs and lingered on her breasts. She shivered and her breath panted out. White-hot lava flowed through her veins, following in the wake of his gaze.

  She was more turned on than she ever had been in her life, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

  Dropping to his knees before her, he leaned his forehead against her belly, his palms cupping her hips. “I want you, Celia. I always want you.”

  “I’m right here,” she whispered. “Have me.”

  “You’re here, but for how long?” He tilted his head back and met her gaze.

  The open expression made her breathing hitch. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. Since her last divorce, she’d run from relationships, and nothing and no one had tempted her the way he had. It was why she’d avoided dating him, knowing instinctively that he’d be dangerous to her determination. Her lips trembled when she smiled at him, and she traced her fingertip over his high cheekbone. “I’m here now. That’s all I can give you. You’ve known that from the beginning.”

  He sighed and closed his eyes. “Yeah. Now I understand why. I just wish…”

  So did she. He was the first person to make her wish she were different, that her experiences had been different. But that was fruitless longing. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He shook his head and met her gaze again. There was disappointment there that stabbed at her soul. A half-smile kicked up one side of his mouth. “Let’s enjoy now, if that’s all we get.”

  Cupping his jaw in her palms, she bent forward to brush his lips with hers, putting everything she couldn’t give him into the kiss. It was sweet, hot, everything she’d ever wanted and had found far too late. His tongue pushed into her mouth, and she moaned, the heat she was becoming accustomed to wrenching through her system. His fingers stroked over her hips, tracing the ties that held her lingerie closed.

  He released her lips, kissing the lower curve of her stomach through the sheer mesh. She jolted in surprise when he nipped at her belly button. “Mason!”

  A rich chuckle was the only answer he gave her. He moved down, dipping his tongue between her thighs to lick her clit. She gasped when the fishnet material stroked over the tight bundle of nerves, sending an arc of pleasure streaking through her body. The tip of his fingers skimmed the edge of her lingerie, down until he could tease the lips of her pussy.

  She pressed her hands to the back of his head, urging him closer. She craved those talented lips on her flesh, wanted him to taste her cream and make her come. His breath rushed over her wet sex, and her muscles quaked in anticipation. He leaned back, tugged the ties at her hips free, and shoved the lower half of her teddy out of his way. He jerked one of her thighs over his shoulder and opened her wide.

  Then he buried his face between her legs, feasting on her sex. His fingers stroked up and down her slit while his tongue curled around her clit. A low keen broke from her throat, the intensity of it swamping her. Her pussy flexed on nothingness, and she wanted…she needed…

  He thrust his fingers deep inside her, and she arched helpless against him. “Mason, Mason, Mason!”

  Climax crashed over her, a flashflood that sent her spinning into oblivion. Her pussy spasmed again and again around his fingers, and a sob wrenched from her. It was too much. Far too much. His tongue and hands continued to work her until her knees buckled.

  He caught her, lifting her against his chest. Her heart hammered, and she clutched at his shoulders as he rose to his feet and deposited her on the bed. He came down beside her, sucked her nipples, and the rasp of the mesh with the wet heat of his mouth had her arching off the mattress. Her nails dug into his shoulders, holding him to her. Moans spilled from her throat, her need sharpening once more.

  He stripped the rest of her lingerie away, throwing it off the bed. “This is gorgeous, but it’s in the way.”

  “I’m glad you liked it,” she gasped.

  When she reached out to stroke his cock, he stilled her movements, pressing her hands to the pillow beside her head. “None of that. Tonight is all about you. Just enjoy.”

  “Okay.” She settled back into the mattress, sliding her legs apart. “Don’t keep me waiting. I want you inside me.”

  His laugh was a rough sound of need. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

  He kissed her, and she could taste herself on his lips. The musky scent of sex and him was all she could smell. Their tongues tangled, and her excitement expanded until there was nothing left but desperate, clawing desire. He broke away, his face flushed with lust.

  “Condom,” he croaked. He rolled away, snagging one from the box they had on the nightstand. Back in seconds, he crawled onto the bed with her and sheathed his cock.

  Kneeling between her thighs, he pulled her legs up to drape over his shoulders, turning his head to kiss her ankle. The way he skimmed his fingers down to tease her sex made her twist in reaction. It was unbearable. Her pussy was so wet, she thought she might die if he didn’t fill her. “Inside me. Now. Please.”

  He grasped his cock, rubbing it over her hard clit and slick lips. Raising her hips in offering, she bit back a whimper when he nudged the bulbous crest of his dick into her pussy. The stretch was divine as he eased his wide shaft deep inside her. Groans rolled out of them both as he began moving, and she squeezed her channel around him. He cupped her breasts in his palms, the calluses on his fingers rasping over her nipples. The intense feeling made her grab the sides of the pillow and hold tight, her breath rushing out, her heart thundering in her ears.

  A fierce smile curled his lips when he met her eyes, and she laughed. This was just too good. It got better every time. How could the best she’d ever had keep getting better? Each of his strokes hit just the right spot, which had her writhing on the sheets. His hands slid
down to grip her hips, lifting her higher into his thrusts, rubbing his pelvis over her clit.

  Her legs flexed against his shoulders as she worked to take him deeper, harder. God, yes. The angle was perfect, and the speed guaranteed to drive her over the edge. She was going to come. Soon. Shivers wracked her body, pleasure radiating through her until it overwhelmed her senses.

  “I’m going to come,” he groaned, pistoning in and out of her pussy.

  Just him saying the words was enough to send her flying. Her body bowed, a high, thin scream breaking loose. Her fingers fisted in the pillow, and her pussy contracted on his cock.

  “Celia!” His rough shout only spurred her on, made it hotter for her. He shuddered between her thighs, collapsing on top of her. She held him close, her body going limp with pleasure. They lay that way for a long time, twined together, their breathing ragged gasps, their pulses slowing. It was perfect.

  If only it could stay like this forever.

  Chapter Five

  “Are we shaving your head again?” Celia ran her hand down Mason’s short hair, which had grown out from the stubble in the weeks they’d been sleeping together.

  Instead of showing up at closing time, he’d made an appointment, which meant he had her full attention and she’d have a harder time escaping him to run off and have dinner elsewhere. She’d been getting better at it. Telling him about her past had scared her. She’d let him too close, and this fantasy had gone too far. It was time to bow out of this little game before she got hurt.

  “What do you think?” He met her gaze in the mirror, and she could see the turbulent emotions he was trying to keep in check. He knew she was backing away. He was too astute not to have gotten the memo. “Should I go back to bald?”

  Danger fluttered inside her that he asked her opinion. It wasn’t unusual for people to consult with their stylist, but he never had in the past. She didn’t like that he’d change himself for her. “I like you with a little bit of hair.”