Incredible You

by Lili Valente

  Every once in a while fate throws something incredible in your path—a dream job, a once in a lifetime opportunity, a chance to abandon all your well made plans and become a part of something even better. The Rangers were never my dream team as a kid, but I’ve had a bigger, better career with them than I could have imagined growing up. I never thought I’d be in a position to start a non-profit, but the day I said “yes” to founding Real Time was one of the best days of my life.

  If I died tomorrow, it wouldn’t be my hockey career I’d be most proud of. It would be my work to help kids from neighborhoods like mine, kids who need someone to give them a reason to hope. I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone for those kids more than I have for anything else in my life. I’ve asked rich people for money and when they said no, went back and asked again. I’ve tied skates on hundreds of little feet and taught a few rug rats how to tie their own and gotten my hands dirty in the best way.

  When it comes to my own personal shit, I’ve always been the kind to play my cards close to my chest and weather my bad bets alone. But for those kids, I’ll make a fool out of myself any day of the week.

  Because I love them, even though I know I’m not supposed to get attached. A bunch of kids needing me to be someone they can count on in a world that hasn’t given them much of a reason to have faith in people was never part of my plan, but now they’re the best part of who I am.

  As I lift my hand and rap light knuckles on Shane’s door, I can’t help thinking that this is the same kind of thing.

  I wasn’t looking for Shane—I honestly never imagined a woman like her existed—but now that I’ve found her, my gut says I’d be a fool to let her go.

  “Hey.” Her gaze is soft and a little shy as she opens the door, propping one bare foot on top of the other. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  She’s wearing a pair of pink cotton shorts and a faded long-sleeved T-shirt with an octopus on the front and the words “Release the Kraken!” underneath. The shirt is stained at the bottom, her hair is pulled up into a messy knot on top of her head, and her face is makeup free and puffy from crying.

  I’m pretty sure she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  “I’m glad I’m here, too.” I step inside, hands flexing awkwardly at my sides. “Is it okay to hug you?”

  “Yes, please.” She steps into my arms and presses her face into my chest. “I’m sorry I cried and ran away.”

  “No more sorrys. I told you already, you don’t have to be sorry.” I wrap her up tight and hold her close and the fist of tension and worry in my chest fades away. She’s here, she’s okay, and whatever went wrong, we’ll figure it out and make it better.

  “And I couldn’t find the popcorn,” she says, her words muffled against my chest. “I’m a complete failure tonight.”

  “I can go buy some,” I say, though the last thing I want to do is leave her. “I’m sure there’s something open on Madison Avenue.”

  She shakes her head. “No. You can’t go. You have to stand here and let me sniff you for the next hour or so. You smell so crazy good.”

  “Thanks.” I smile as I bend my head, inhaling the flower and honey smell of her shampoo and the warm, womanly smell beneath. “You smell pretty amazing yourself.”

  She lifts her chin, looking up at me, anxiety threading through the contentment on her face. “And we don’t have to talk about why you have issues with the police if you don’t want to. I said no heavy stuff and then immediately asked you about heavy stuff. That’s not really fair.”

  “It’s okay.” I smooth my hand up and down her back, doing my best to ignore the feel of her breasts against my chest. “We can talk. But I’d love something to eat first. Just a sandwich or something, if you have it. Since we didn’t make it to the buffet at the party, my stomach has decided to chew itself in half.”

  She pulls away with a nod. “Of course. Sandwiches coming right up. Turkey and cheddar okay?”

  “Perfect,” I say, following her toward the kitchen. “And if you’ve got lettuce, tomato, and mayo I’ll be the happiest man in Manhattan.”

  “I have all of those things.” She smiles over her shoulder as she opens the fridge. “I like how easy it is to make you happy.”

  “I’m a simple man.”

  “Then maybe I could pull off being your girlfriend, if all it takes is proper sandwich fixings and my butt virginity.”

  I choke on my next breath, making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cough. “Glad I wasn’t drinking when you said that.”

  She blushes as she pulls items out of the fridge and bread from the cupboard nearby. “Sorry. I can’t help it. My brain to mouth filter is even worse when I’m nervous.”

  “Why are you nervous?” I ask, hurrying to add, “And I would love for you to be my girlfriend, if that was your way of asking.”

  “I honestly wasn’t thinking that far ahead.” She fetches two plates and begins assembling the sandwiches. “But good. I’m pretty into monogamy.”

  “Me, too.” I smile, wishing I could see her face better. But maybe she prefers to talk about stuff like this with a little bit of distance between us. “And just so you know, if you have no fly zones or things you’re not into in the bedroom, we can talk about it. I’m good at respecting boundaries.”

  “That’s good, too. But um…I’m okay with all zones being fly zones for now.” She shrugs, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she returns the food to the fridge. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

  “I know why I’m nervous,” I say, figuring I should go ahead and step out onto the ledge. It’s worth it if it puts her at ease. “I want to be with you. I’ve never met someone like you, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

  She turns, gaze softening. “Me, too. I don’t want to fuck it up, either, but I’m afraid I will, Jake. I’m…not right.”

  “You’re right for me.”

  She folds her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowing. “Aren’t you the one who said you can’t really know someone after six weeks? You haven’t even known me six days.”

  “I’m also an idiot. I say dumb stuff all the time. That’s been proven by science.” Her answering smile encourages me to keep going. “I know what I said. But now I’m getting to know you, and you’re changing my mind. Now can I please have my sandwich? I’m only going to get dumber if you don’t feed me, Willoughby. I’m flat out stupid when I’m hungry.”

  Lips pressed together, she sets my plate on the island and pushes it across.

  “Thank you.” I hold her gaze as I take down half the sandwich in one giant bite, my jaw cracking as I chew.

  “You have an enormous mouth,” she says, amusement in her voice.

  “Fmpk ooo,” I mumble as I chew. “Oo gnn ee?”

  “Yes, I’ll eat,” she says, proving she speaks mouthful-ese. “But first I’m going to tell you something important. I prefer to do it while your mouth is otherwise occupied so you can’t argue with me.”

  I nod, continuing to chew, figuring I can prove her wrong if I need to. One of the benefits of growing up with three brothers—I can always argue, no matter how full my mouth is.

  “I told you my fiancé isn’t in the picture.” She glances down at her left hand, tapping the ring finger on the counter. “That’s because he passed away.”

  I start to say I’m sorry, but she shakes her head.

  “I’m okay. I’ve dealt with it, or at least dealt with the losing him part of it. Wesley was wonderful. He was my sweet, funny, crazy best friend, and he loved me a lot. But he also lied to me a lot.”

  When she looks up, her face is paler than it was before. “He was diagnosed with Huntington’s Disease a few months before we met, but he didn’t tell me about it until four years later, when he started having symptoms. It was two months before the date we’d set for the wedding.”

  My eyebrows lift and she nods.

  “Yeah. It was bullshit, and I was mad, but I was also in love with him, so…”
She sighs. “So I said we’d deal with it. Together.” She traces a pattern in the marble beneath her fingers. “But the disease progressed quickly, faster than it was supposed to, and we both knew there was no cure. Wes was only going to get worse, and sooner or later he would have been completely dependent on other people to do everything for him. Feed him, dress him, take him to the bathroom…”

  She sniffs. “So he moved out. He tried to call off the wedding—to spare me, he said—but I refused to let him. I called in sick to work and camped out on his doorstep for a week.”

  She laughs, lifting her shining eyes to the ceiling. “I literally camped. Slept there, ate there, peed in his bushes. Texted him every hour on the hour telling him I wasn’t going anywhere until he let me into his apartment. And finally…he did.”

  Her smile trembles at the edges. “And that first night back together was so good. I knew it was going to be hard, but after that night I thought it might also be okay. That we would find a way to be okay together, even in the midst of losing so many of our dreams. But I was wrong. Stupid and wrong and I should have known better, but I…”

  She takes a breath, letting her words rush out on her exhale. “A few weeks later, while I was out of town at a friend’s, helping out around her farm after she had to have her sweet old dog put down, Wesley… He um… He killed himself.” She swallows hard, her throat working. “He left me a note saying he was sorry and that he loved me, and that was it. It was over. Forever.”

  I slip off my chair and circle around the island, standing next to her as I lay my hand on hers, knowing nothing I can say will help.

  “I was so angry,” she says, her voice thick. “I was so mad at him for taking away my good-bye and my choice and however many years we might have had before things got really bad. But I was also so, so sad. The anger took a backseat to crying at his funeral and helping his parents go through his things and…I don’t know that I ever dealt with the mad.” She sniffs. “Or imagined how scary it would be to try to be with someone again. Even just sex, you know? Let alone anything else.”

  I lift her hand, threading her fingers through mine. “Tonight wasn’t just sex. Not for me.”

  She squeezes my hand. “Me, either. And that’s why I cried.”

  I guide her arm around my waist and cup her face in my hands, gazing down into her shining eyes. “Okay.”

  She blinks. “Okay?”

  “Okay.” I brush my thumb back and forth across her soft cheek. “And if you need to cry again, that’s okay, too. I’m not scared of your mad or your sad.”

  Her brow furrows as her eyes fill. “You’re not?”

  “No, princess, I’m not.” I lean down, kissing her forehead. “You can bring it all to me.”

  Her voice trembles as she asks, “Why are you being so nice to me? I know you’re not this nice to other women you’ve dated, Falcone. I’ve heard the country song.”

  “You aren’t other women, Willoughby.” I kiss her temple, feeling her pulse beneath my lips. “And I’m not nice. I want you. I want you so bad that the thought of not being around you is scarier than tears or anger or knowing that you’ve been through hell so you need me to be patient and good to you and not lie or take your choices away.”

  Her hands cover mine, pressing my palms tighter to her face as her eyes close, sending twin streams of tears slipping down her cheeks. “I think I could fall in love with you,” she whispers, “just for saying that.”

  She sniffs and her eyes open, pinning me with fierce blue. “So if that’s not something you could be up for someday, then I need you to leave. Right now. Don’t say another word, don’t kiss me, don’t apologize. Just leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I promise. Then I kiss her because I can’t help myself. She tastes sad and scared, and I’m a little scared, too, but that doesn’t stop me from lifting her in my arms and carrying her into the bedroom.

  Because I would rather be sad or scared with this woman, than pretend to be happy with anyone else.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Jake

  We don’t speak. Neither of us says a word as I undress her and she undresses me and we stretch out on her bed wearing nothing but skin, both of us burning from the inside out. Her skin is hot beneath my mouth, hot and sweet and salty, and I can’t get enough.

  I kiss her everywhere, each kiss a promise that I can take this, take her, take anything she needs to give me, as long as she lets me in.

  Her fingers thread through my hair as I suck her nipple deep and slow while my palm pulses between her legs. I rub her with the heel of my hand, pressing into her pussy, rocking against her clit, demanding that she come for me because I need it. I need her pleasure more than I need my own. I need to feel her unraveling and know it’s because, at least for this moment, she’s mine.

  She cries out, arching into my touch. I hum my approval against her breast, tonguing her nipple as her heat rushes over my hand. I suck in a breath, dizzied by the smell of her filling the air. Her arousal is sharp and sweet and calls to me like a siren’s song, demanding I get closer to the source, to the salt and heat that mean I’ve given her what she needs.

  I slide down, moving between her legs, palms spreading her thighs wide as I kiss her where she’s throbbing. The walls of her pussy are still pulsing when I drive my tongue inside her, needing to have the taste of her on me, in me, filling my mouth as I reach up to cup her breasts in my hands, pinching her nipples. I roll them and tease them until her breath comes fast and hard again. Her moans as she starts to get off are the sexiest things I’ve ever heard.

  She bucks into me, crying out as I lick and suck and tongue her into another orgasm, staying where I am so I can taste her again. She tastes incredible, so hot and sexy that I could stay between her thighs forever, but we both need more than this. We need it all, our bodies connected, my cock buried inside her and her body writhing against mine.

  “I need to be inside you.” My lips find hers, the taste of her mingling in our kiss as Shane’s tongue dances with mine. “Let me get a condom.”

  “No.” Her nails claw into my shoulders as her legs lock around my waist, pressing her wetness to the burning ridge of my cock, making me groan with pain and pleasure and the knowledge I’m so close to having her. “Don’t leave me. I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I’m not leaving, princess.” My head spins as she grinds against me, making it almost impossible to resist the urge to drive inside her. “Just let me get a condom. I’ll be two seconds.”

  “I can’t get pregnant. I have an IUD.” She reaches between us, capturing me in her hand and stroking me hard. “I’m clean, and I want you like this. I want you, nothing else between us.”

  “God, Shane.” My eyes squeeze shut as I fight to think straight. “I’ve been tested, and I’m clean, but I—”

  “Then take me,” she begs, fitting the head of my cock to her entrance, shredding the last of my self-control. “Please, Jake. I need you inside of me. Please, please, don’t stop, I—”

  Her words become a cry as I slam my hips forward, burying myself inside her in one long thrust, crying out as her pussy squeezes me tight. She’s wet, but I’m thick, so thick I usually try to take things slow at first, especially with a new lover, but I can’t stop myself. I’ve moved beyond control, beyond thought, beyond anything but the driving imperative to fuck this woman until she comes on my cock, until she milks me dry as I lose myself inside her.

  “Fuck you feel so good.” I hitch her leg over my arm so I can get deeper, fuck her harder, take her because she’s mine.

  God, she’s mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

  The mantra throbs through my veins as I ride her hard and she meets me thrust for thrust, demanding more. Demanding everything. And I give it to her, because there is no other choice. There’s nothing but Shane and her body locked around me and her taste in my mouth and her voice crying out my name as she comes again.

  God, she comes so hard, her body squeezing my dick
, and for a second it hurts because it’s so tight, so close. But then I’m coming, my cock jerking inside her and my body flooding with bliss, with euphoria so intense I can’t breathe, can’t think.

  All I can do is grind deeper into her, coming with everything in me, my balls emptying into a woman for the first time in years. I can’t remember the last time I had unprotected sex, but that’s not what made this so intense, so incredible.

  It’s her. It’s all her, this woman holding me tight as we come down together, safe because neither of us is letting go.

  “You’re mine, princess,” I murmur against her throat, tasting the salt of her sweat and the perfectly right taste of Shane. “No more pretend.”

  “No more pretend,” she says, kissing my shoulder.

  We fall silent for a long time, nothing more needing to be said. But eventually, I find her lips because I need another taste. I kiss her once, and then twice, and by the third kiss I’m getting hard again, still buried deep inside her. Her hips shift against mine, and I take her nipple in my mouth as I roll onto my back, pinning her tight against me so I don’t have to leave her for a second.

  This time she rides me as I make love to her tits, sucking and biting her nipples until she comes on me again, and it is as sweet as it was the first time. Even sweeter, because I can see her face in the moonlight filtering through the curtains. I can see the joy and pain mingling in her expression as she comes so hard it hurts, see the way her lips fall open in a gasp as I come inside her again, filling her with the evidence of how fucking crazy she makes me.

  And it is crazy.

  It’s crazy to fall asleep tangled up with a woman I barely know—who I’m also pretty sure I’ve fallen in love with sometime in the past few hours—but I don’t care.

  Who needs sanity when I can have Shane, her body warm and heavy against mine as she falls asleep with my cock still inside her? Not this man.

  Take my common sense. Just leave this woman right here in my arms for as long as I can have her.