Just One Moment (Just One Song #4)

by Stacey Lynn

  I glance back at him, still sleeping in the bed, and I sigh softly.

  When Lynx is awake, he's always so confident. He carries himself with the posture of someone who knows he can handle anything that comes at him. His dark brown eyes and thick brows and lashes give him an intense expression, even when he's laughing.

  His body is a well-tuned machine.

  Yet while he sleeps, his full lips are slightly parted and there's softness in his sleepy expression that makes him seem younger than his years—more vulnerable.

  I could probably stand and stare at him for hours and never tire of the way he looks.

  I could run my hands and fingertips down his body and never be satisfied.

  I haven't just begun to like Lynx in the last few months.

  I've begun to crave him.

  I've begun to want him.

  I've begun falling in love with him.

  My eyes pop wide open and my lips part. "Oh, shit," I whisper and feel my hands ball into fists.

  This wasn't supposed to happen.

  Yet as I continue watching Lynx sleep, begin hearing my pulse beat loudly in my ears, I fight down the urge to flee and hide like I've done for so long.

  For him, I can stay.

  I turn on my heel, leaving his sleeping area, and head to the kitchen before I can change my mind.

  As I dig through his refrigerator, pulling out ingredients to make simple cheesy eggs and bacon, I continue trying to remain calm.

  I like him.

  I like him a lot.

  And that's okay. Nothing bad is going to happen to Lynx because I want to be around him.

  I'm not going to hurt him. I won't destroy him.

  The pep talk works, and I head to the stove and turn it on. I unwrap the package of bacon while two large frying pans begin heating on the stovetop.

  I'm focused on cracking eggs when the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  Twisting my neck to look over my shoulder, I freeze when I see Lynx leaning against a black metal beam. He’s dressed in nothing but his boxers, and he looks magnificent, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, his shoulder resting against the beam. I can tell by the way he quickly lifts his eyes that he was totally checking out my ass.

  "Morning," he says. "Woke up and thought you'd fled."

  The fact that I thought about it makes me frown. "Thought I'd cook you breakfast instead."

  He pushes off the beam and prowls toward me. His intention is clear and I brace myself for when he reaches me, tugs me toward him, and then lifts me into his arms.

  "The eggs," I whisper right before his lips hit mine.

  "I have more."

  My legs wrap around his waist when he turns and sets me on his countertop. His hands drop to my thighs and run along the bare flesh. His gaze follows the languid brush of his hands and I see crinkled, amused lines pop from the corners of his eyes when he watches me respond to his contact.

  "How'd you sleep?" he mutters, slowly pushing up his T-shirt to expose more of my thighs.

  I clear my throat. "Good."

  "You wet?" he asks.

  I am. So wet. So warm.

  I always feel like this for him.

  I don't answer. Words lodge in my chest and get lost inside my brain when he pushes the gusset of my panties to the side and slides two of his fingers through my wet flesh.

  He groans and pulls his eyes to mine. "This is becoming my new favorite place."

  He's becoming my new favorite place.

  My lips part in shock from the suddenness of the thought.

  "Lynx," I whisper, running my hands from his shoulders down his arms until I settle them on his waist.

  I want to touch him everywhere. All the time. His body is a work of art.

  He slides his fingers inside me and my head falls forward as I watch him begin to work me over.

  I'm already pulsing for him, mindlessly grinding my hips into his touch.

  "How does this keep getting so much fucking better?" he asks, and with his free hand he raises my chin so I'm forced to look him in the eye. "You feel this?" He pushes and pulls his fingers, sliding against the perfect parts inside of me.

  "I feel it."

  "I'm not talking about fucking you, Sarah."

  I know. I lick my lips and nod. My throat is too dry to speak, but still I force myself to admit the truth. "I feel it, Lynx."

  His forehead drops to mine. "Thank fuck."

  "Please," I whimper. My fingertips dig in just above his hipbone. My thumb brushes against his long, ugly scar, and for the first time, I force myself to look at it.

  I have no idea how he got that ugly mark, the only scar on his body that mars his perfect flesh.

  Now is not the time to ask, either.

  My climax is too close. My inner thighs begin to tremble. My body heats further as Lynx focuses on his task, staring down at where his fingers are pressing against my body.

  "Please," I beg again, grinding against him. "So close, Lynx."

  His thumb presses down against my clit and I shatter into a million pieces.

  On his countertop.

  With his fingertips still inside me.

  His forehead drops to mine as I bite my tongue to muffle the scream that wants to explode from within my chest.

  "Lynx," I whisper with panted breath. I might love you. "I really like you," I say instead.

  He laughs softly, sliding his fingers out of me. He raises his chin until our eyes meet again and I'm lost in the searing seriousness of his dark eyes. "I think I more than like you."

  My heart stutters.

  I lean forward and press my lips against his in a soft, meaningful kiss.

  His hand slides to the side of my neck and he holds me there, holding us together.

  Our moment is severed when he suddenly pulls away and snaps his head in the direction of the front door.

  My mouth drops, stunned by his abrupt movement.

  "Lynx?" I ask, just as I hear the telltale rattle of keys.

  A female voice calls out the same name I just did.

  "Oh, shit," Lynx says and looks back at me. "It's my mom."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  LYNX

  SARAH'S SKIN GOES ash white and she jumps off the countertop.

  "I'm naked," she hisses.

  I grin. I wish she were.

  I don't have time to say anything before my mom walks around the corner. "Lynx!" she shouts again and then stops mid-step.

  One foot in front, the other in back, only the toe of her modestly heeled shoe hits the floor and my mom's eyes flare wide open.

  "Oh." Her mouth freezes in an O-shape. "I'm so sorry."

  Pink floods her cheeks, and I force myself to move.

  This is not how I want Sarah to meet my parents. Fuck, she only admitted thirty seconds ago that she likes me.

  "Ma," I say in a warning tone. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

  Then it makes sense. I sigh and reach out to Sarah, who's trying to hide behind me, tugging down my shirt that already covers her more than any dress she owns for herself. "Legend's fine, Ma."

  I tug Sarah next to me and look down at her. Her eyes are focused on the floor and her small frame is curled in on itself.

  "Sarah...this is my mom, Candace Anders."

  "Hello," Sarah croaks. I watch as she hesitates before holding out her hand for my mom to shake.

  With a gentle laugh, my mom quickly steps forward and places her hands on Sarah's cheeks. Next to me, Sarah tenses as my mom whispers, "It is absolutely lovely to meet you."

  "Um...you too," Sarah murmurs, her cheeks turning a bright hot pink.

  I decide to end her embarrassment.

  "Ma. Grayson's fine. And you should have called."

  She pulls her adoring eyes off Sarah, and it's then that I realize that both the women in my life are small—tiny, really—but with great big hearts and even bigger attitudes. Who would have thought I'd fall in love with a woman just like
my mom? The thought doesn't terrify me at all, but I pull Sarah toward me, twisting her so my mom is forced to let go of her and step back.

  My hand slides across her jaw and I brush my thumb along her heated cheeks. "Why don't you go upstairs and get dressed?"

  Sarah's eyes flutter to mine where she nods lamely. "Of course." She turns to my mom and says, "Excuse me," before I gently push her toward the stairs.

  "She's perfect," Mom whispers once Sarah's up the stairs and out of her sight. Her eyes glimmer with unadulterated joy and I roll my eyes.

  "And you're devious. Where's Dad?" I cross my arms and glare at her. Mom hates driving into the city.

  She has the grace to look embarrassed for a moment. "He's finding a spot for the car."

  "I got an alley in the back that's never full."

  "Okay, so we thought that if we surprised you, and there just happened to be a girl here, that it'd be less awkward if it was just me."

  "You shouldn't pull this shit."

  She grins at me, now fully unashamed of her actions and her motives. "Well, how else was I going to meet the girl Landon keeps teasing you about?"

  I sigh and step toward her, pulling her into a hug. My mom's a nut. "You should have called. Sarah's timid and you've scared the shit out of her. I wouldn't be surprised if she's upstairs right now trying to figure out how to get the hell out of here without making herself look bad."

  "Oh." My mom's lips pull to the side and she looks at the stove. "Well, if you’d told me more about her, I might have known that instead of having to drop by and surprise you."

  "You're shameless." My annoyance is mixed with amusement. This is so totally something my mom would do, and she's not trying to be malicious. She's curious, and unstoppable when she gets a bug up her butt.

  "Well," she huffs, and heads toward the stove where I'd forced Sarah to stop cooking so I could get her off. The vision of Sarah in my kitchen, cooking me breakfast, made me hard as a rock. Even the memory of seeing her little hips swishing around in my oversized T-shirt has my cock twitching. "How about I just finish up what got started here..."

  Her voice trails off when she looks at the mess left all over the kitchen counter. Then she looks back up to where Sarah disappeared to and a cute blush hits her cheeks. She totally just figured out what she interrupted Sarah and I doing.

  "Oh..."

  I smirk. "Yeah. Oops." I narrow my eyes and lean forward to kiss her on the cheek. "Next time, fuckin' call first, okay?"

  "Language," she whispers when I pull back.

  I roll my eyes and head toward the stairs. I'm halfway there when my door opens again and I see my dad sauntering in, four bags of groceries in his arms.

  Fucking hell.

  They planned this and they plan to stay awhile.

  Now I just have to figure out how to get Sarah on board.

  "Get control of your woman," I say, feigning a glare at my old man.

  He kicks the door shut behind him, snorts, and mutters, "Like that'll ever fuckin' happen."

  I head up the stairs, knowing Sarah's probably dressed and ready to sneak out, but I'm wearing a grin the size of Texas.

  My mom might be a pain in the ass, but she means well, and this is the first time she's ever seen me happy.

  I intend to show her how I came to be that way.

  ***

  I expect to see Sarah dressed in her clothes from yesterday, purse in her hand, luggage from our weekend trip all repacked, and her ready to head out as soon as I hit the top of the stairs.

  Instead, she’s still wearing my T-shirt, sitting on my bed with her cell phone clutched in her hand, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  My chest begins to burn and I quickly prowl her way and crouch in front of her, placing my hands on her thighs.

  She barely moves.

  "What happened?" I ask, ducking down so I can see her face.

  It's only then I realize that she's smiling—while still crying. Women are crazy.

  "What the fuck? Are you okay?"

  She nods and sniffs, brushing tears off her cheeks. "Kennedy called me this morning, so I called her back when I got up here. I was going to see if she could come get me since they're close, and it'd be cheaper than a cab."

  The burn in my chest grows hotter.

  "But then," she says, still not looking at me, "Kennedy told me they get to meet Thad."

  My hands tighten on her thighs. "What?"

  "Yeah." She looks up at me and smiles. She's fucking thrilled, crying happy tears.

  And I know it's in this moment that I decide I'll do whatever it fucking takes to make her smile that smile every single day of her fucking life.

  "They're getting ready to go see him. Apparently Thad's adoptive dad called Grayson yesterday, admitted that Thad's a fan of The Legend and was freaking out when they saw him get injured at his fight."

  "Holy shit," I whisper. "This is huge."

  "I know." Her smile widens and her tears stop flowing. "All she's wanted for five years is to see him, to know he's okay, Lynx. She's finally getting everything she wants."

  I know the exact same damn feeling.

  I push down the urge to tell Sarah that and lean forward so I can pull her into my arms. I stand up, pull her with me, and then sit down on the bed so she's straddling my waist and sitting on my lap.

  "Happy for both of them, honey," I whisper, brushing her hair out of her eyes and unsticking strands from her wet cheeks.

  "Me too." Her voice is garbled, but clearly happy.

  I pull her closer to me.

  "I've got something else to tell you that might not make you happy," I say and watch the light in her eyes dim a bit.

  "Your mom?"

  I nod. "Yeah, my dad's here, too. Sorry about this, but if you want to go, we can do that. I'd like you to stay, though. They're good people, even if my mom's acting like a little shit this morning."

  Sarah laughs despite herself. "I was planning on leaving," she says, her voice hesitant. "But I'm thinking that with Kennedy finally getting everything she wants, maybe it's time I start trying to go for what I want."

  My thumb runs across her jaw and my eyes drop to follow the movement of my thick, callused thumb on her silky soft skin.

  "What is it you want, honey?"

  She waits for several beats before answering. It feels like forever.

  "Breakfast."

  I chuckle hoarsely and pull my eyes up to see hers filled with humor. "You're a shit, you know that?"

  "I should probably get dressed," she says, her eyes flickering over my shoulder to the railing and the open living space below. I can hear Mom clanking away with pots and pans and the televisions is now on, but quiet.

  "Yeah." I press my lips to hers, taking a soft, languid kiss but pulling back before I can take it further. "They're good people, Sarah. I'm pissed she showed up unannounced, but she only did it because they've been worried about me for a long time. Now they're happy for me and they want to see I'm good."

  Sarah's lips roll together and she climbs off my lap. The furrow of her brows concerns me, and I reach for her wrist. "What is it?"

  "I was just wondering why they've been so worried about you."

  I blow out a breath. "Right now, let's enjoy the feast my ma is probably creating down there. She'll be sweet to you, my dad will sit around and have a few drinks and scream at whatever game he's watching, and you and I can just hang. We'll celebrate Grayson and Kennedy's good news. Later, we'll get into that shit, okay?"

  We need to talk. I need to tell her the truth about my nightmares. She might silence them most nights, and last night and yesterday clearly went fine, but that doesn't mean they always will and she needs to know.

  She needs to know what kind of guy she's really hooking herself to before this can go any further.

  I only hope like hell she decides to stay and face the risks with me.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SARAH

  LYNX CLOSES THE door after his p
arents walk out and turns to me, arms crossed, with a content smile on his face. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

  I press my lips together to keep from laughing.

  When I finally found the courage to make it downstairs, breakfast went just as he suspected it would go. I was already embarrassed that his mom had almost walked in on us having sex on the kitchen counter. Not that she'd seen that part, but I couldn't watch her chopping vegetables in almost the exact same spot I had just been sitting without feeling my cheeks heat.

  Fortunately, Candace Anders has got to be one of the sweetest—and also loudest—women I've ever met. She doesn't withhold any thought she's currently thinking, and as I walked into the kitchen, she winked at me and then said, "Have a seat at the counter while I cook us a family breakfast, and tell me all about you."

  Lynx guided me to exactly where his mom told me to sit, grabbed himself a cup of coffee, and brought me a glass of water before he kissed my temple and muttered, "I'm going to hang with my dad."

  Then he walked away, completely ignoring the wide eyes I flashed him, begging silently for help. When I turned back to Candace, I found her eyes had softened as she watched her son walk away.

  It was that moment when I saw the concern Lynx had mentioned upstairs melt away as her eyes began to shimmer with unshed tears.

  She turned to me, knife in her hand, and sniffed. "A mother always worries about her sons. When mine told us they were dropping out of high school to join the army like their dad and his dad before him, I had never been so terrified. But that terror didn't end when they came back from war and I saw how it changed them...Lynx mostly. Ten years I've waited for the moment when I can look at him and know that he's going to be okay." She had paused, swiped a finger under her no-longer-dry cheeks, and gave me a shaky smile. "Thank you for giving that to him."

  I had sat there stunned and completely speechless until she sniffed, went back to chopping veggies, and casually said, "So tell me about you."

  Without her watching me I felt something strange loosening inside my chest, and therefore, I told her everything.