Placing my hands on his shoulders, I pushed up until we were face to face. My stomach fluttered as I looked into his teal-blue eyes. The realization that he was everything to me was both terrifying and invigorating all at the same time.
“I realized that I’ve been in love with you for a really long time, too,” I spoke quietly as nerves caused my limbs to tremble.
His eyes widened as the black of his pupils overtook the deep-blue color. “What?” His deep voice came out gruff.
“I love you, too. And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say it. I’ve known how I felt for a long time now; I was just scared.”
He tugged on a loose curl and asked, “What are you scared of, cher?”
I turned my head to the side, breaking away from his penetrating gaze. I couldn’t look at him as my insecurities were brought to the forefront.
“I was scared that I wouldn’t be enough for you. That you’d realize one day that you could do so much better than me.”
“Hey.” He spoke softly, taking my chin in his hand and turning my face back to his. “Don’t you see? There is nothing better than you.”
He was so confident, so sure of what he was saying that I felt myself melting. There was no protection around my heart when it came to Trevor. He’d broken down every tiny piece, leaving it open and exposed to him. I had to trust that he’d take care of it. There was no other choice.
“You can hurt me,” I admitted on a whisper. “You’re the only one I’ve ever felt this way about. No one else has the power to hurt me the way you do.”
His brows furrowed and his head cocked to the side. “I could never hurt you,” he insisted with fierce determination. “You are the most important thing to me. I’d rather lose a limb than hurt you.”
“Promise?”
I had no doubt that if my girls could see me now, they’d kick my ass for being such a chicken-shit. Hell, I wanted to kick my own ass.
“I swear on my life, cher.”
I couldn’t love this man more than I did at that very moment.
Resting himself on his forearms, he pressed his lips to mine and kissed me so deeply that a fire deep in my belly ignited, burning through my body. My mouth opened on a gasp, allowing him easy access to whatever he wanted. Goose bumps broke out on my skin as he ran his fingers up the outside of my thigh until his hand was under my gown. I needed him. God, I needed him so badly.
“Trevor,” I pleaded.
“What do you need, baby?” His voice was gravelly with unrestrained desire. He felt it, too. He needed me just as badly as I needed him.
“You. I need you. Please, honey,” I whimpered, my desperation growing until I felt I might cry.
“You have me, cher. You’ll always have me.”
I had been so lost in what he was doing to me that I hadn’t noticed he’d undone his jeans and pushed them down his hips until his fingers slipped between my legs and moved my drenched panties out of the way, giving him perfect access. With one swift move, he thrust into my body.
And I finally felt whole.
Later that night, I laid in bed wrapped around Trevor as I stared off into the darkness, listening to him breathe. The remaining candles had all burned out; the only light in the room was from the pale glow of the moon as it shown through the window.
“You asleep, baby?” Trevor whispered against the top of my head as a hand swept over my hair in long, soothing strokes.
“Nuh-uh.” I gave my head a shake before resting my cheek back on his chest. In all the times Trevor and I had been together, it had never been like this. Yes, we held each other in our sleep, but this was different. We’d never lain awake in bed hours after, relaxed and basking in each other the way we were now. It felt right. It felt like the last piece of the puzzle had simply slipped into place. We were complete.
“What are you thinking about right now?”
I smiled and turned my head slightly to press a kiss to his bare skin. “I’m thinking how perfect this feels right now. What are you thinking?”
He pulled me tighter and let out a soft breath. “I’m thinking I really need to take a piss, but don’t want to move you off me.”
“Trevor!” I shouted as I punched him in the stomach.
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He laughed as he tried to pull my struggling body back to his.
“Way to ruin a beautiful moment,” I grumbled once he had me back in position. My head bobbed up and down as his chest continued to rumble with laughter.
“You said it yourself, cher; this is us. Better get used to it.”
“I’m suddenly starting to second-guess my decision.”
He tugged on a curl until I lifted my face to look at his, his eyes glinting with love and humor through the darkness. “No you aren’t,” he told me before pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose. “You love me like this,”
He couldn’t have been more right.
“I know,” I said with a deep sigh of defeat. “It’s my cross to bear.”
His fingers traveled up my waist to my ribs where he dug in and began tickling. “Oh, now you’ve got jokes!” he said as I shrieked and laughed, trying to get away from him.
“Can’t let you be the only funny one!”
He stopped tickling and I stopped struggling. “See?” he asked as he brushed stray pieces of hair from my eyes and leaned in to kiss my nose again. “We’re perfect for each other.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
“Now, about babies,” he started, suddenly getting serious.
“No babies, Trevor!”
His face morphed into a pout as he whined, “Why not!”
We just wouldn’t be us if we weren’t fighting every other hour. But I had to admit, it would definitely keep things from getting stale.
“You know, you aren’t helping the situation any,” I grumbled to Nana as she came back into the kitchen with an empty bowl of soup.
“The young man’s sick, Lizzy-Lu. You can’t just leave him to fend for himself.”
“Oh, you’re so full of crap!” I stomped my foot. That’s right. I was just seconds away from a full-blown hissy. “You’re the one always bitching about how you can’t stand how whiny Pop Pop gets when he’s sick, and that if he keeps complaining that he’s dying, you’re gonna make sure it happens for him!”
I hadn’t even gotten a full week of blissfully-happy coupledom before disaster struck in the form of a summer cold. And let me just say, for such a big, strong former Marine, when Trevor is sick he’s the biggest pansy-assed cry baby who has ever walked the earth. It was just further proof that women are, by far, the dominant sex. When I get a cold, I suffer through it in silence like any considerate, reasonable human being would do. I would dope up on cold meds, stay in bed if necessary, and wait for my head to deflate so I could start feeling normal again. That’s how it was supposed to be handled.
But oh, no, not Trevor. He whined, moped, convinced himself he had tuberculosis (thanks for that, Web MD), and tried to get me to take him to an emergency room because, in his words “This isn’t normal. I’m starting to think whatever I’ve got is fatal”.
I was in Hell. And having Nana come over here to feed the annoying ass chicken noodle soup wasn’t just unnecessary; it was bugging the ever-loving hell out of me. The man hadn’t been to work in five days. And with each of those five days, he expected me to sit at home and play nursemaid until he felt better. He was driving me insane!
“Ah, that’s the perks of being the grandparent, sweetie,” Nana smirked as she patted my cheek none too softly. “I can come over here and baby him, then take my old ass home. I’m not the one who’s stuck listening to him bitch and moan all night long.”
“Thanks for that,” I deadpanned.
“Yeah, well, welcome to married life,” she replied with a shrug before picking up her purse and heading for the door.
“Where are you going? You can’t spoil him then just take off on your merry way! You created a monster. Deal wi
th him!”
Nana turned back around, mouth opened to say something when a shrill, tinny noise came echoing from upstairs.
What the…
My eyes grew wide at the realization of what the sound was.
“You gave him a bell?” I shrieked as Nana’s face filled with laughter and a twisted smile spread across her lips.
“Ah, honey pot. I wouldn’t be a good grandmother if I didn’t delight in torturing you every now and then.”
I narrowed my eyes and glared down at her. “I’m talking to Mom about putting you in a home.”
“Pfft, child. I’d like to see you try. Remember where you got your fiery personality from.”
“It’ll be one of the ones that feed you nothing but oatmeal and Cream of Wheat, and make all the old people weave wicker baskets and knit doilies and shit so they can take them down to the flea market on the weekends and sell ‘em for fifty cents a pop. And when your hands grow too weak from spending too many days in the sweat shop disguised as “arts and crafts time”, they’ll wheel you in front of on old box TV to watch Family Feud all day until the sweet release of death comes and saves you from another miserable day of shitty Steve Harvey jokes and the uncontrollable flatulence of Old Man Buford who either can’t hear it, can’t feel it, or just doesn’t give a good goddamn anymore.”
As soon as I finished my rant, that stupid bell sounded from upstairs again. “Well then, I’ll be sure to tell Buford you said hello. Gotta go!” And with that, she bolted out the front door faster than a woman her age should be able to move.
When shooting daggers with my eyes didn’t cause the door to burst into flames, I gave up and started ascending the stairs to my bell-wielding husband.
“Hey!” he argued when I snatched the bell out of his hands. “That’s mine.”
“Trust me; it’s for your own good.” I shoved the bell into my back pocket and placed a hand on Trevor’s forehead. “How you feeling, honey?”
“A little better,” he answered, still sounding slightly congested. “You know, I read somewhere it’s been medically proven that sex has healing aspects.”
“And I think that head cold is making you delusional if you think that’s gonna happen,” I laughed.
“Come on,” he sulked. “It’ll make me feel better.” He grabbed my arm and tried to pull me to the bed. Luckily, he hadn’t gotten all of his strength back. “Get in here with me,” he coaxed, trying to give me one of his trademark sexy smirks. If his nose hadn’t been so red and his eyes weren’t watery, it might have worked. “Just climb on and stick it in,” he told me as he turned over onto his back and tried to push the covers past his waist.
I proceeded to pull the covers back up and tuck him in tightly. “Not happening, Casanova. But you get an A for effort.”
“You know, you’re shit with the whole bedside manner thing,” he grouched as he pulled the covers tighter around him.
“Good thing you love me in the bed more than beside it, huh?”
“This is true.” He sniffled before letting out a hacking cough. “I could really use a little TLC right now,” he said with a wiggle of his brows before poking his bottom lip out pathetically. “I’ll even say please.”
I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “As tempting of an offer as that is, how about I just go get you some more cold meds?”
He burrowed his head deeper into the pillows. “You know, you’ve changed since I put a ring on it. You’re turning into a boring ol’ housewife.”
My head tipped back with laughter as I caught the corner of his mouth tip up in a smirk. “Boring ol’ housewife, huh? Well, there goes the blowjob I was planning on giving you once you got better.”
“I take it back!” he was quick to amend.
“How is it that men are the biggest babies when they’re sick, but they’ll still go out of their way to get laid?”
“It’s one of life’s great mysteries,” he said with a casual shrug. “We could be on our death bed and we’d still want you to ride us like a rodeo cowgirl.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said sarcastically as I started for the door. “I’m going to pick up some more medicine and soup. I’ll be back in a little bit. Love you.”
“I could die and you wouldn’t even care!” he called as I walked away.
Looking over my shoulder, I said, “That’s not true at all! You haven’t added me to your life insurance. Can’t bump ya off just yet.” I threw him a wink as I crossed the threshold, putting a little extra sway in my hips just to drive him crazy.
“Fucking woman’s gonna be the death of me,” I heard him groan as I headed for the stairs. Then he followed it up with, “Love you, too.”
I stood in the medicine aisle with a box in each hand as I read through the lists of ingredients and tried to decide which would be the best choice. Finally giving up, I tossed them both in my basket and turned to leave. I didn’t know much about drugs, but I felt pretty confident that giving Trevor both at one time wouldn’t kill him. Fingers crossed.
As I turned the corner, I heard someone calling my name. When I glanced back I saw Bad Date Number Twelve standing there. Or was he Bad Date Number Five? Shit, I couldn’t remember.
“Lizzy, this is a pleasant surprise,” he smiled.
“Hey….you.”
Cue mental facepalm.
“It’s Mark,” Bad Date Number Fill-in-the-Blank supplied when it became obvious I didn’t remember who he was.
“Yeah, Mark. I totally knew that,” I said with an uncomfortable laugh.
“So…” he started, aware of the sudden discomfort that floated around us. “How have you been?”
“Good! I’ve been good. You?” I reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.
“I’ve been go—Holy shit!”
I spun around and tried to see what caused his outburst. “What? What happened?”
“You’re married?”
I looked back to Mark and followed his gaze down to the ring which sat on my left hand.
“Oh, uh…yeah.” Damn this store for being the hub of all things wonderful, where people came to wander aimlessly and leave hundreds of dollars later. If I didn’t love it so damn much I would boycott Target. But that just wasn’t possible. Honestly, who didn’t love Target? Expect more, pay less…? Uh, yes, please!
“Wow,” he said, still looking shell-shocked. “When did that happen? I mean congrats and everything, but we only went out like…”
“I know,” I interrupted before he could accuse me of anything unsavory. “It happened kind of fast. Totally unexpected, but after you and I had our date.”
“Well, congratulations again. At least internet dating paid off for one of us,” he laughed awkwardly.
“Oh, no! I didn’t meet him online. Trevor’s been a friend for a while.”
“Did you say Trevor?”
“Yeah, why?” I questioned at his strange expression.
“Trevor, as in the dude who called me before our date and told me you preferred to pay for your own meal because you were a hardcore feminist?”
Ah ha! So he was Bad Date Number Seven. And…what?!
“I’m sorry?”
“Yeah,” the guy went on. “He said he was calling to give me some pointers so the date went well. Told me he did it for some of the other guys, too. He said you hadn’t had the best luck so he was trying to help you out.”
“He did?” I asked drily.
“Yep.”
“And he told you I was a hardcore feminist.” That wasn’t a question. I could totally believe something like that came out of Trevor’s mouth.
“Yeah. He even told me it pisses you off when a man tries to open the door for you.”
All of a sudden, flashes of my failed dates past started running through my head.
Son of a bitch!
“Excuse me, Matt. I have to go.” I turned and started for the exit, no longer caring about the cold meds.
“It’s Mark!” he cal
led from behind me.
I waved my hand in the air, not bothering to turn around. “Whatever!”
I couldn’t concentrate on Matt/Mark right now. I had a husband to kill.
I should have known something was wrong the minute she walked through the door and started acting all caring and sympathetic.
“Feeling better?” Lizzy asked lovingly when she walked in the house and saw me standing in front of the fridge.
That should have been the first sign.
“Yeah. I’m finally feeling like I can eat something other than soup. I’m fuckin’ starving.”
She walked up to me and rubbed her hands up my chest, making my dick start to swell. “Oh, poor baby.”
Hell yeah! I was this close to getting some sympathy sex. That was the second-best kind after makeup sex. Wait…no, the third best. It was makeup sex, angry sex, then sympathy sex.
Grabbing hold of her hips, I pulled her against me so she could feel the hard-on I was sporting through my sweats. That always got her hot. “Yeah. Want to kiss it and make it all better?”
“Mmm,” she hummed as she slowly drug her fingers from my abs up my chest. “I don’t know if you deserve it,” she whispered seductively. “Have you been a good boy?”
A deep rumble vibrated from my chest. “Oh, baby. I’ve been a very good boy.”
The smile that spread across her lips was downright wicked. I wanted to suck that beautiful, plump bottom lip into my mouth.
“Is that right?” she purred. “Because I heard different.”
“Ow! Sonofabitch! Fucking shitballs!” I yelped as she clamped her goddamned talons down on my nipples and twisted for all she was worth.
“What the fuck, Lizzy!” I yelled once I’d finally broken away from her death grip. The sexy, seductive woman who had been standing in front of me just moments ago was gone. In her place was a pissed-off, spitting-mad hellcat ready to scratch my eyes out.
“I can’t believe you!” she screamed at me as she began pacing the kitchen.
“What? What’d I do now?” I had to ask, because truthfully, God only knew. Men didn’t have to do much more than sneeze and women were up our asses bitching before we ever had the chance to say ‘God bless you’.
Pushing the Boundaries (Picking up the Pieces #3) Page 17