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Happily Even After

Page 8

by Lena Matthews


  “This is crazy. I can’t believe you’re here. In this, of all things.” Reaching out, she rubbed her hand over the black upholstery he’d finally been able to refurbish three months ago. The smell of oil and leather filled the car, like in the good days when his dad owned it.

  “You’re really doing a good job on it.” Her voice was a bit awestruck. “Your dad would have been proud.”

  “I like to think that.” His dad had loved this car, and he’d passed that affection down to Dean, who hoped one day he could do the same to Hamilton. “Still a lot to do, a lot of money to pour into her before she’s golden, but one day she’ll be right as rain.”

  “I know she will. Does the heater work yet?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mind flipping it on? Some of us are a bit underdressed.” Creigh rubbed her hands over her bare thighs. The shirt she wore did little more than button up the front and hang several inches above her knee. All the bare flesh he could see made him hunger to look at the parts he couldn’t see.

  “So I see.” Dean turned the car on and revved the engine for a bit before leaning over and then flipping the switch for the heater. Cool air followed by a faint hint of dust flowed from the vents for a few seconds before the warmth became noticeable. “By the way, that shirt looks awful familiar.” Reaching down he fingered the green flannel shirt. “Very familiar.”

  Creigh smacked his hand. “They didn’t break the pattern after they made yours, you know.”

  “Ouch,” he said, shaking his fingers. “Hit me all you want. I know that’s mine.”

  “Prove it in a court of law.”

  Dean’s smile slid away. “I’m a little lawyered out, I have to say.”

  The amusement that had been brimming in Creigh’s big brown eyes just moments ago quickly slid away. Sighing, she looked out the car window and into the neighbor’s yard. “I don’t want to fight.”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.” Dean said. “I’m done. I refuse to go another second dealing with it.”

  Creigh turned her attention back to him. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she held strong. “I understand,” she said with a nod. “I want you to know, even though I haven’t shown it all the time, I really do appreciate the help you’ve been in the last week. And I’ll try my best not to bother you again.”

  How could someone so smart be so lame when it came not only to his heart, but hers as well? “Keep your thanks, Creigh. I don’t want them. My actions weren’t noble at all. I didn’t do what I did this weekend for you. I did it for me. The baby was the first step I saw to possibly making my way back into our home, and I pounced. I kept telling myself you needed me. That you couldn’t—no, shouldn’t—do this alone, when in all reality, it’s I who needs you.”

  “That’s not true. I’ve always needed you. You’ve never needed me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. It scares me just how much I do need you. Do you know why I’m out here tonight?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Because the day ends in y.” He smiled. “I come out here so often it’s ridiculous. Pathetic even. Just in hopes I’ll see one of you in the window or outside for a split second. Then there’re the other times, like tonight when I know you’re all in bed but I come by anyway, just to watch over you for a little bit. This is where I belong, Creigh, and I want to come back home.”

  “Things”—she paused to gather herself before continuing—“aren’t that simple. No matter how much I might want them to be. You have no idea how badly I just wish I could take your hand and tell you to come home.”

  “Then do it.” He’d come too far to be stopped now. “What’s so complicated?”

  “Everything. You’re only doing this because you see me as a damsel in distress. If I hadn’t gotten knocked up, you wouldn’t be here, and I don’t want to drag you back into a bad situation because you think being with me is the right thing to do.”

  “Hell, I’m not sure this is the right thing to do. All I know is I can’t stand being without you. The baby is just giving me the push to do what I wanted to do. I never wanted the divorce. You know that.”

  “I also know that we were tearing each other apart. Do you really think we’re so much different now than we were two years ago?”

  “I know I can’t go another year without you.”

  “I’m not the same person I was when we were married.”

  “Good. Come to find out, that person wasn’t very happy, and I don’t want that for you anymore. We’ll both have to get to know the new us. I’m not saying I just show up tomorrow with my bags and big-screen.”

  “Then what are you suggesting?”

  “That we go out on a proper date, several of them, and get to know each other all over again. Maybe we’ll find there is something between us besides sexual chemistry; maybe we won’t. But whatever we discover, it has to be better than the unknown we live with each day. I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I don’t want to be the dick that makes you cry all the time.”

  “And I don’t want to be the bitch who sends you running for the garage to escape me.”

  “What do you want? We’ve said what we don’t want.”

  “I want to be happy again. With you.”

  “I want that too.” God, did he. More than anything else in the world.

  “I want to be okay with still being in love with you.”

  “For the record, I’m okay with that,” he joked around the lump in his throat. She still loved him.

  “And I want you to be able to handle this.” Creigh laid her hand down on top of her small yet growing bump. “God, I want that so badly.”

  “I can, cara.” Dean cupped her cheek in his head, tilting her face up a bit so she could not only see into his eyes, but also hopefully his soul. “I want to make her my child. If you’ll allow me.”

  “As wonderful as that sounds, there is a lot”—she closed her eyes for a second before opening them and continuing—“you still don’t know.”

  “Then tell me.”

  She pulled away from him and turned her head. “I’m not ready.”

  Dean let out a disappointed breath. “What could be so bad it has you this upset?”

  Creigh looked at him and met his gaze. “It’s not what; it’s who.”

  “The baby’s father.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who is it? Is it someone I know?”

  For a second, he thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then she gave a sharp nod.

  “And that’s what eating you up inside. The fact I know this man.”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me who he is. I can handle it.”

  She tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “I don’t think you can.”

  He racked his mind to try to figure out who it might be. An old acquaintance, maybe one of the guys he saw on a daily basis. Through all the faces that popped in his mind, he couldn’t mentally connect Creigh with any of them. “Well, I know she’s not Sergio or Gino’s child.”

  Creigh gasped, her face a mask of disgust. “Of course not. I would never. They would never.”

  “I know, baby.” Dean laughed. “I was just saying my brothers are the only men who could bring me low, so if it’s not them, the father doesn’t really matter.”

  “Can I get that in writing?”

  “Yes,” he said with all seriousness.

  “Before we go one step further, I think there is one more thing about the baby you need to know.”

  “Okay.” He braced himself and waited for the news, hoping for the best but fearing the worse.

  “She…she won’t be like Hamilton or Harlow.”

  “What does that mean?” Dean reached out and placed his hand over hers, willing the unborn child to be okay. “She’s all right, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, of course.” Creigh moved her hand out of the way so his was lying flat on her stomach. “What I meant is her father isn’t white. If we get

back together, there will be no pretending you’re the father. She won’t look like you, at all. She probably won’t look much like Hambone or Harlow either.”

  Insulted, Dean slowly pulled his hand away. “And you thought you had to tell me that? You thought it would matter?”

  “I thought you deserved to know.”

  Dean thought about what she said for a moment and let it sink before he replied. He didn’t want her to think he was answering off the cuff or hadn’t thought about the possibilities and the ramifications for himself. “For the record, I didn’t think you were catnip for white guys. I knew there was a chance the father would be black. Just like I’m hoping you know it won’t matter a damn bit to me. I’m capable of loving a child for merely being a child, not for who her parents are. I’m bigger than that.”

  “I know you are,” Creigh said sincerely. “I just thought you should know.”

  “Well, now I do.”

  Creigh stared at him for a second, gaze intent as if she was searching for the truth of his words in his eyes. What she saw must have appeased her, because after a bit she smiled shyly. “The next time you feel the need to drive by, maybe you should just get out and come in.”

  The offer meant more to him than he could say. “Maybe I will.”

  “Good. I would really like that.” Creigh reached for the door handle. “It’s getting late. I should probably head back in.”

  Oh hell no. Dean turned off the car. He wasn’t going to allow her to get away that easily. Acting fast, he placed his hand on her thigh. “Or you can stay out here with me for a moment longer.”

  “I thought…” Creigh glanced down at his hand, then back at him. “I thought you wanted to try to get to know each other again.”

  “Tomorrow.” Dean moved his hand from her thigh to the bottom button of her shirt and slowly began to undo them. “Tonight, you and I have a little unfinished business to attend to.”

  Creigh let out a shuddering breath but didn’t make a move to stop him.

  “They say the third time is the charm. Let’s find out if they’re right.” As soon as Dean undid the last button, the shirt parted, exposing her bare flesh to his hungry gaze. Creigh was nude beneath the green flannel and just as breathtaking.

  The outside light from above the garage door shone into the car allowing him to see every single inch of her exposed frame. Dean drank her in with his gaze. Without anything to obstruct his view, he could clearly see the evidence of the life growing inside her. Her usually taut stomach jutted out in the sweetest of ways, yet it didn’t detract from her sensual appeal at all. It made Creigh look even more beautiful to him, womanly even.

  “God, you’re beautiful.” His body was humming from the prospect of being with her again. No one, but no one ever made him feel as alive as Creigh did. She was the reason he drew breath in the morning and the reason he was here, putting everything on the line to be with her again. “How did I let you walk away from me?”

  Creigh went to respond, but Dean silenced her with his mouth. His tongue slipped between her lips, and he pulled her closer to him. As sweet as she tasted, as good as it was to feel her mouth against his, it wasn’t enough.

  Not nearly.

  After a few seconds of pulse-pounding kissing, he broke away from her tempting mouth, his breathing as out of control as the beating of his heart. “Open your legs for me, cara,” he ordered huskily.

  Creigh was a little slow to follow his command, so Dean did it for her. He pulled her legs apart and slipped his hand between her soft brown thighs, moving it slowly against her silky, soft skin until he reached her slick curls. Dean brushed his fingers through her dampness, seeking the slippery entrance to her sex. What he found there took his breath away. Creigh was blistering hot. Just the way he liked her. “Miss me?”

  “God yes. I’ve been on fire since this morning.” She moaned, undulating her pussy onto his seeking fingers. Dean allowed her a few seconds of pleasure before he drew his hand away and centered his finger against her clit. “No,” she protested, turning wild eyes on him. “Don’t tease me.”

  Dean ran his finger in circles around her erect little bud, hard enough so she could enjoy it, but light enough to have her craving more. “Would I do that?”

  “Yes, you bastard.”

  “Give me what I want, then, and I’ll give you what you need.” This wasn’t their first rodeo. He knew she was well aware what it was he was asking for.

  Without a word of protest, Creigh sat up straight and quickly took the shirt off. She cupped her breasts in her hands and offered them to him. Her dark nipples puckered under the weight of his gaze, like two juicy blackberries. “Perfect.”

  Dean lowered his head and opened his mouth, taking one deliciously dark nipple between his lips, then tugged. Creigh arched slightly at his touch. She whimpered her approval and pressed even closer to him. His thumb sought her clit, rubbing it with sure deft strokes. Enraptured by her, he suckled at her breast, pulling her nipple farther into his mouth all the while steadily increased the pressure he was applying on her erect bud.

  After he thoroughly laved the first breast, he moved on to the next one and ravished it in the same manner he had the other as she writhed beneath his touch.

  If he had anything to say about it, she would feel his touch on her breasts for days to come. Dean wanted her to think of him every time she rolled over, every time she put on or took off her bra, every time any wisp of fabric touched her nipples. He wanted her to remember this moment, this time, his touch.

  “Please”—Creigh released her grip on her breasts and slid her hand over to his lap—“I want to touch you too.”

  Dean couldn’t have resisted her if he wanted to. Moving away from her breast, he made quick work of freeing his erection. The second he pulled himself completely out, Creigh knocked his hand away and took him in her own. The precum leaking from the slit in his crown made for excellent lube. Her soft hand explored his hard flesh, stroking him frantically at a pace that soon had him as crazed as she was. Her touch drove him wild. She knew his body as well as he knew hers, and it didn’t take much for her to start making him see stars.

  Seeing as how she had things well in hand, Dean moved his hand back between her legs and took up where he had left off, driving her out of her mind with pleasure. He began to pump his fingers into her with fast, furious strokes, grinding his palm against her clit.

  Dean pulled her closer to him and buried his face in the crook of her sweet-smelling neck. There wasn’t enough room in the car to take her the way he truly wanted, nor was he capable of moving to larger accommodations. They would have to take what they could and make the most of it for now, but later, later he would make up for tonight’s rushed joining.

  He moved his mouth from the haven of her neck to the small lobe of her ear and whispered in a lust-thickened voice, “Your pretty pussy is squeezing the life out of my fingers, cara. Makes me wish it was my cock buried in your sweet cunt.”

  Dean didn’t think it was possible, but the walls of her sex clenched even tighter around him. Creigh undulated her hips toward his hand, taking his fingers deeper inside her. “Oh just like that, cara. Fuck my fingers. Show me how much you’ve missed my big dick.”

  “Dean, Dean.” She moaned and rocked her hips back and forth.

  “Oh yeah, cara. I can’t wait to fuck you again.” He pulled his fingers out of her briefly and used them to land a stingy slap against her tender clit before cupping her pussy in his hand once more and shoving three fingers this time into her hot cunt. He made his motions rougher, because he knew that was the way she liked it. A little pain went a long way to get his girl off.

  Creigh cried out and jerked. “Fuck! Dean…oh…God.”

  “Liked that, did you, baby?” He reached over and grabbed hold of one of her nipples, pinching the turgid flesh between his fingers. Giving her that added bonus he knew would blow her mind.

  “Yes. Yes.” She whimpered, tightened her grip on him, and str
oked him faster. She utilized her knowledge of him to give him the handjob of a lifetime, squeezing up, pumping down. She worked him over like a seasoned cock pro, all the while moaning and humping his hand.

  “Your hand feels so good, baby.” He groaned, leaning closer to her nipple, wanting—no, needing—to take her back in his mouth. “You make me feel so good. So fucking good.”

  Creigh did something with her thumb over his crown, and he was gone. Words were no longer a possibility for him. Just groans to show his appreciation. Creigh wasn’t much better. She was tossing her head back and forth, her moans increasing tenfold. She was just seconds away from dousing his fingers with her sweet essence.

  The scent of her arousal filled the car, the noise reached a decimal a pitch above ear bursting, and the windows fogged up from the steam generated between the two of them. It was like high school all over again, but worse because Dean knew what he was missing. And it was time he reminded her as well.

  Closing his lips around the tip, he bit lightly into her nipple once more. The sharp bite was the catalyst to her undoing. Creigh threw back her head and screamed his name, soaking his hands with her creamy essence.

  Dean was right behind her, or before her, he couldn’t tell. It was definitely a photo-finish orgasm. Dean couldn’t say if he shot jet after jet of semen out of his cock and over her clenched fist first or if she flooded his fingers first. All he knew was it was damn good. And messy. He was going to have the car detailed tomorrow, but it was worth it to have her in his arms again.

  Chapter Six

  “So, tell me.”

 
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