She raised her hand to stop me. “No. Don’t. I’m fine.” She wiped beneath her eye with a napkin as she sniffed. “I just… It was hard seeing my baby boy have such strong feelings for a girl who was suffering as much as that poor, sweet girl did. There were quite a few nights, when the prognosis was not looking so good, that I had a few choice words for God and made it clear to him that we needed to be on the same page. My heart broke for Cara and Colton and the McCords. But also for my babies.
“I knew that, no matter what, Harmony would be okay. She would have been devastated, but she would have been okay. But you…you… Well, that sweet girl has been your whole world since she was still in pigtails, and if anything had happened, I just… I wasn’t sure if you could have…if you would have…”
Tears started falling one after the other down my mom’s cheeks.
Not able to take it, I rounded the corner and pulled her into my arms. “Mom, I’m fine. Cara’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”
I hated thinking that my mom had been so worried about me. It didn’t surprise me that my mom had known how I felt about Cara. That was kind of her thing. In fact, it was actually kind of amazing to me that no one else had picked up on it. The only thing that had shocked the hell out of me was that she’d been so concerned about me and not talked to me about it. Sure, I probably would have denied it. I mean, there actually was something happening now and I was still denying it. But still, to think she’d silently suffered broke my heart.
The swinging door squeaked and my sister walked through it. When she saw me holding our mom, she rushed in.
“What did you do? Why’s Mom crying?” Harmony scowled at me as she pushed between us and wrapped her arms around our mom.
“Leave your brother alone. He didn’t do anything. I’m just getting sentimental in my old age.” Mom pulled away from my sister and waved her hand dismissively before wiping her face with the napkin she held.
“You are not old!” Harmony argued.
I didn’t know if it was because Harmony was the baby, or if it was because she was a girl, or if it was because she was so close to my parents, but for whatever reason she hated when either of them talked about the fact that they were getting older.
My brothers Coop, Travis, Beau and Wyatt swarmed the kitchen in search of food seconds later. Mom put us all to work, and as she handed me the bowl to fill with the salad fixings I’d been working on, she winked at me.
“You take care of her, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered automatically.
There was no way, after that conversation, that I was still going to deny that something was happening between us. And, whether it ended up like I wanted, with us walking down the aisle, or not, promising to take care of Cara was a no-brainer. I would. Always.
Chapter 29
Cara
“Most people worry about stuff that never happens.”
~ Dolly Briggs
Hot showers had always been one of my favorite things. Maybe it was because, for a long time, I hadn’t been allowed to take showers because I’d been too weak to stand unassisted. Or maybe it was because, when my body had been sore from treatments or I’d been limited to baths for months on end, I’d felt cleaner after taking one. Like I’d washed away all the sickness and had a fresh start. To me, showers were therapeutic to both my muscles and my emotions, and they always brightened my mood.
At least, they always had. Tonight, the experience was not holding its usual magic. I’d been taking a shower for the last ten minutes, and I was still miserable.
Ducking my head under the steaming spray of water, I sternly told myself that the pity party I was throwing needed to come to an end. Long ago, I’d learned that the town of Poor Me was never a good place to be. Things were how they were. Asking why was like jumping into a black hole of despair. Not only was it pointless, but it had the same qualities of quicksand and would suck you under and suffocate you.
Over the years, I’d gotten to what I considered pro level at stopping myself short of making the leap into the abyss of misery. No matter what hand I was dealt in life, I played it and hoped for the best.
But now, I found myself wishing I’d had different cards.
Trace was at his family’s Sunday dinner, and although he’d said that I was more than welcome, that he actually wanted me to be there, I’d decided to sit it out. Yesterday at the Spoon had proved that I didn’t have what it takes to play it cool, and that had just been around Destiny, Harmony, and Travis. At the dinner, the entire Briggs family would be in attendance, I’d never be able pass that kind of scrutiny without someone—Dolly!—seeing right through me. Nothing got past that woman.
Usually, I admired that quality, but in this situation, not so much. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see her. I loved Dolly. She had been a lot more nurturing than my own mother. But, with everything going on with Trace, I didn’t think I would have been able to look her in the eye.
So I’d stayed home. That was a decision that I’d made. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t been lonely and sad every second Trace had been gone. Not only did I not realize how much I’d gotten used to having him around and just plain missed him, but I was also feeling left out. Which was another fun byproduct of my childhood illness. For so much of my life, I hadn’t been able go to school, dances, the skating rink, or even the movies. I’d spent endless hours in bed at home and in hospitals, wishing I had been out with my friends.
This night had unearthed all of those old feelings I’d buried deep below the surface of my emotions. It wasn’t just Trace I was missing. It was both of my best friends. Now that JJ and Destiny were married, she was at every Briggs Sunday Dinner, and I was happy for her. I just wished that things could be different. That I could be there. With Trace.
But that was never going to happen. Trace should be with someone he didn’t have to worry about when they got a headache or a bloody nose. Someone he could have babies and a full life with. Even if, by some miracle, Trace did want more than just our friends-with-benefits relationship, it was impossible. He deserved better. And that was at the core of my sadness. I was grieving the loss of what could be.
“Stop it,” I murmured to myself in frustration as I reached to shut the water off deciding I needed to find a more effective form of therapy.
“Stop what?” Trace said behind me.
I jumped as my scream echoed through the glass enclosure.
Thankfully, Trace’s ninja skills were not limited to sneaking up on people. They also extended to his reflexes. If not for those, I would have ended up flat on my rear, with a very sore tailbone.
“Stop doing that!” I yelled breathlessly as I swatted his chest.
My heart was beating a mile a minute and I knew that it was partially due to the extra adrenaline the scare had produced. But I was pretty sure some of my pulse’s speed had to do with the fact that my wet, naked body was pressed up against Trace’s wet, naked body, and either there was a baseball bat between us, pushing against my hip, or he was very happy to see me.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you in the shower and needed to touch you. Sorry.” His eyes darkened as he repeated the word he must have said a hundred times the night before as he’d kissed every inch of my body.
Tingles spread from head to toe, and I knew I’d never be able to hear him apologize again without getting very, very turned on.
It also didn’t hurt that his hands were now gliding over my backside.
“What are you doing here? Is dinner already over?” Inside, I was jumping for joy, doing summersaults, cartwheels and backflips, but I tried not to let that show, considering Trace had only been gone a couple of hours.
Girls were always getting obsessed with Trace, trying to trap him in a relationship and make more out of the time he spent with them than it was. I had promised myself going into this that I would not be that girl. I mean, yes, I was obsessed with him, but he didn’t know that. And I’d made it clear from the
beginning that I didn’t want a boyfriend or anything serious. Did I? Yes. But the point was he didn’t need to know that either.
“No, dinner’s not over. I left early.” His fingers were kneading me in an erotic massage.
“Why?” I asked, my voice smoky with passion.
“I missed you,” he answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe, for him, it was. He’d always been affectionate. With his family. With girls he dated. I tried really hard not to read too much into it, but it was getting more and more difficult each time he told me, which was every time we’d been apart for more than five minutes.
“I missed you too.” I ran my hands up his neck and threaded my fingers through his hair.
It was still amazing to me that I got to do that. That I could touch him. Kiss him. Hug him. It wasn’t going to last forever. In fact, Colton could be home any day. Even though we hadn’t specifically talked about an end date, my brother’s return was the clock striking midnight in my fairytale.
The coach would turn into a pumpkin. My dress would turn back to rags. And the horse would turn back to mice.
Soon, everything would go back to the way it had been. That reality lit a fire of urgency under me. Every time we’d been together, I’d let Trace take the lead, and it had been incredible. But I wanted to do some things, and I hadn’t because either I’d been too distracted in the heat of the moment or I hadn’t built up the courage to be that bold.
Now, I could practically hear the tick, tick, tick of my time running out. The countdown to the inevitable bubble that we’d been living in being popped gave me the courage I’d been lacking.
I’d seen and touched his body, but I hadn’t taken the time I wanted to explore it. Now, I seized that opportunity. I pressed my lips to the muscled planes of his chest and kissed across his taut skin. I tried to commit to memory the sensation of his heartbeat beneath my lips, the vibration of his moans, the rhythm of his chest rising and falling, and the sound of his breathing growing shallow as I traveled lower to his abs.
As I continued my erotic exploration over the rippling muscles of his torso Trace’s hands moved to my shoulders. His fingers flexed as he started to pull me up. If I didn’t do something within seconds, he’d take over and I’d lose my chance. With a boldness I hadn’t even known I was capable of, I shrugged out of his hold, placed my hands on his shoulders, and pushed him so his back was against the tile wall. His hands fell to his sides.
I took a page out of his alpha book, looked at him, and firmly instructed, “Stay.”
Lust, amusement, and a sprinkle of frustration glimmered in his golden gaze. His voice was strained as he brought his arms up and ran his hands through his wet hair, letting his head fall back against the shower wall. “You’re killing me.”
I took that as an agreement.
A surge of empowerment flowed through me as I lowered to my knees, bringing myself face-to-face with Trace’s manhood. In my new position, the spray was hitting Trace square in the chest, sending drips of water cascading down his virile form. My palms tingled and my mouth watered at the impressive sight.
I stared in awe, taking in all of Trace’s naked glory, momentarily paralyzed. Even in my lust-hazed state, I knew that my inexperience was the cause of my hesitation. I wasn’t exactly sure what I should do. It was easy when Trace was in the driver’s seat to buckle up and enjoy the ride. Now that I’d taken the wheel, I realized I had no idea where I was going or how to operate the vehicle.
“Cara, you don’t have to do this.” Trace’s rough voice filled the shower stall.
I peeked up at him, arousal mixing with embarrassment as I admitted, “No. I want to, I just don’t know what… I’ve never done this.”
Trace closed his eyes for a moment, and his jaw twitched as he exhaled through his nose. When he opened them, his voice was gentle as he explained, “Just do what feels good to you. You can’t mess this up, believe me. Anything you do is going to feel amazing. You’re not even touching me and I’m so fucking hard and turned on. Just seeing you on your knees, I’m about to come.”
“Oh…”
I loved that Trace had no problem expressing himself. I loved when he told me all the things he wanted to do to me, all the things he loved about my body, all the things I made him feel in graphic detail.
With the pressure of doing the wrong thing having been taken off, I decided to trust my instincts. Since my palms were still tingling, I wrapped my fingers around his shaft. His thick hardness was heavier than I’d thought it would be. I squeezed it as I ran my hand from the base to the swollen head of his tip then back down again. His erection throbbed like it had a heartbeat in my hand.
The sounds of the shower spraying and Trace’s breathing growing increasing louder as I worked my hand up and down his straining flesh were a powerful aphrodisiac. My core was starting to clench with need. I was growing wetter by the second, and the moisture had nothing to do with the water flowing down on me.
I loved the feeling of Trace’s velvet-smooth skin beneath my touch. The duplicity of the silky texture covering the steel of his rock-hard dick was a heady combination that had me feeling dizzy with desire. I wanted to experience the sensation on more than just my hand. Letting my instincts lead me, I leaned slightly forward and guided the head of his tip along my cheek, across my mouth, and over my jaw. Closing my eyes, I reveled in the erotic pleasure the contact flooded through me.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one enjoying it, because Trace gritted out, “Fuck, that’s hot.”
After the third pass, I wanted to taste him. So I parted my lips and pulled him into the suctioning wetness of my mouth. Then I ran my tongue along his rigid shaft as I sealed my mouth around him. His significant girth and length made it a more difficult task than I had expected, and I almost choked when the broad head of his cock hit the back of my throat when I sucked him deep.
Never one to give up easily, I didn’t let the small setback slow me down. I backed off, moving my lips up until only his engorged tip remained in my mouth. A new rush of pleasure whipped through me as I circled my tongue. I loved the ridge that separated the crown from the shaft, and I paid special attention to swirl around it.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Trace hissed as his fingers threaded in my hair. His fingers held my head in place, and arousal rocketed through me because I was making him feel good.
Soon, the need for more resurfaced and I once again sucked him deep into my mouth. This time, I didn’t choke. I smoothly ran my mouth down as far as it could go and pulled back up. As soon as I felt his now familiar ridge, I repeated the motion. Over and over, I sucked him into my mouth and pulled him up.
A tornado of arousal whipped through me, and my core contracted in anticipation of what was to come as I made love to Trace with my mouth. I’d always heard girls complain about giving blow jobs, but I freaking loved this. I loved the feeling of my tongue running along his hard flesh. I loved the taste of his salty-sweet skin. I loved the way his breathing changed, the way he gripped my hair and the pull stung my scalp.
I could have stayed like that for hours, on my knees, pleasuring Trace. But, when I felt myself being lifted up, I knew that my time had come to an end. A small stab of disappointment hit my chest at the loss. It was short-lived. When Trace spun me around so that my back was pressed up against the slick tile and stepped between my legs as his hands dug into my hips, his power and command consumed me. I forgot about anything other than how good he was about to make me feel. I gripped his shoulders to steady myself both physically and emotionally.
A desperation I’d never felt before spread through me like a wildfire as he wrapped one hand around himself and positioned his swollen head at the seam of my sex. He leaned his forehead against mine, both of our eyes glued to where our bodies were intimately touching.
“You have no idea how good that felt.”
“I’ve dreamed and fantasized about you being on your knees, taking me
in your mouth, and the reality put what I’d imagined to shame. You are so fucking sexy.”
As he spoke, he ran the tip of his penis up and down my opening. Water spilled over his shoulders and down our bodies, only increasing the slickness between us. As amazing as it felt, as erotic as it was to watch, the desperation to feel him inside of me was stronger.
My fingers clenched, digging my nails into his skin as I rocked my hips in need. The hand holding me in place tightened though, so my efforts were unsuccessful.
“Please, I need you.” I barely recognized my own voice as I pleaded, “I need you inside me. Now.”
A deep, primal groan vibrated through him as he entered me in one powerful, driving thrust. My back arched and I cried out as he filled me completely. I closed my eyes as the sting that always accompanied his first thrust hit me.
“Cara?” Concern laced Trace’s voice, and he stilled.
Instead of answering him with words, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and began rolling my hips as I tightened my inner walls around him, the way that I knew drove him crazy.
“Oh, fuck,” he growled as he matched my rhythm with his hips. Then he pulled my nipple into his mouth and bit it before running his tongue over it—the way that he knew drove me crazy.
I’d gone into this wanting to lose my virginity, but this moment was something I’d never even known existed. This wasn’t sex; this was intimacy. The knowing each other’s body, what made each other crazy, was something I just hadn’t accounted for.
Now that I’d experienced it, I had no idea how I was going to live without it.
I didn’t know what was going to happen in the future, but I did know that I had this night. One of the good byproducts of living through what I had was that I’d learned to live in the moment. And this moment was one of the best of my life. Closing my eyes, I determined to live in it and enjoy every second, which was not a hardship with the pleasure Trace was giving me.
Convincing Cara (Wishing Well, Texas Book 2) Page 19