“That’s right, Wicked, surrender to me.” He leaned her back on the car bench and positioned himself above her. The car too small for him to do more than half sit, half crouch, but Sean didn’t mind. He was too far gone, losing his mind as he devoured her chest while tearing at the zipper of her jeans. Maggie would be his. He had to have her. He had waited too long—too damn long—for this.
Sean managed to lower her pants enough to grasp her heat in his hand and feel her wet need. “My wicked girl needs a release.” He looked into Maggie’s hooded, bedroom eyes and smiled. “Isn’t that right?”
He rubbed his palm across her swollen mound, making her hiss. “Yes!” Maggie arched her back, attempting to rub against him again, looking for more contact. She was absolutely gone now, and it was glorious. She no longer seemed to care that they were supposed to be friends, that it was broad daylight, or that they were in the backseat of her car. Sean had her now.
“Then tell me you want this, Maggie.” He rubbed against her sex again, this time to slip a finger deep inside her heat.
“I want this!” She pressed up to meet him, gasping with pleasure. She ran her hands up her glorious, round breasts, making him loose his mind. Have to have her, have to take her!
“Touch yourself again,” he growled, slipping that finger inside her sex slowly, waiting for her to obey. When Maggie ran her hands over her breasts again, this time hesitating for a moment too long above those hard peaks—Sean’s cock throbbed uncontrollably in his pants. He was going to come right here, just watching her touch herself. “Yes, my wicked girl, just like that.”
Maggie moaned, caressing her breasts harder, pinching the peaks. Sean rewarded her by fingering her sex and rubbing his palm back and forth over her mound with slow, purposeful movements. In mere minutes, Maggie was already tightening around his finger, and Sean’s manhood throbbed so bad he felt as if he would explode.
He pulled out of her heat and sat up, dragging off his pants, freeing his need. Maggie sat up too, her eyes large and filled with desire. When he placed protection on his shaft, she licked her lips in anticipation.
“Come to me, Wicked.” Sean reached out for her, and Maggie obeyed, as if in a trance. She moved her long, glorious legs to straddle his and fed his manhood into her, inch by painful inch. Sean cried out, panting with effort to maintain control. He had forgotten how good she felt, how amazingly they fit together. He never wanted to move again.
“You like that, Sean?” Maggie teased, as if reading his mind. She knew she had him at her mercy now, and it was her turn to play games. With her chest pressed against his shirt, and her gaze holding his, she rode him up and down, increasing both their pleasure.
“Oh, Maggie! You feel too good.” He grabbed her hips and held her still.
“You don’t want more?” she teased again, lifting just an inch, making his shaft throb. He grasped her tighter, letting out a low chuckle.
“I want you to give me everything, Wicked.” He kissed her lips tenderly and then looked into her eyes. “But I want you to tell me you love me first.”
“Sean,” Maggie gasped, shaking her head. “I can’t.”
“You can,” he growled, pressing her farther into him so their bodies were as close as possible. “Tell me you love me. Me! Not your damn cartoon, but me.”
Maggie held his gaze, and her eyes filled with tears. “Don’t make me do this, Sean. I can’t let you break my heart again.”
Her tears were his undoing, as always. Sean let go of her hips and demanded she ride him. She did, releasing them both from their built-up passion. But the release was cold and hurt them both. After he pulled out of her heat, they quickly got dressed, and Sean pulled the car back on the road. Neither of them talked. Maggie no longer drew. There was no tenderness between them, no declaration of love, just silence.
Sean drove toward downtown Columbus with a heavy heart and a head full of demons. Maggie kept her gaze turned out her window, trying to hide her tears from him. She knew now that the sight of them pushed him over the edge. But Sean knew she was crying and knew why too. He had hurt her again with his demons, and as soon as this trip was finished, they had no future. Maggie was in love with a fictional superhero, and Sean couldn’t get past the chaos in his head to figure out how to make her love him instead.
CHAPTER 17
Maggie only cried until Sean parked the car in downtown Columbus. She was careful to be quiet about it, but she knew he saw her and probably hated her for it. Sean never liked to see her cry. It always made him lose control and push her away. And sure enough, he made her desire him to the point of tears and then pushed her away after they both met their cold release.
It was a low moment—one that shouldn’t have happened. She should have told him she loved him. That she wasn’t in love with Super Sean but with Sean Miller—and all his flaws. She loved his spontaneous side, his goofy humor, his vulnerability, the way he held on to her so tight and searched her eyes so desperately. As if he could never get enough, as if he wanted to consume her completely. And consume her he did. Maggie was helplessly in love with Sean and wanted to scream it to the world. She regretted protecting her heart, and yet, what could she do? Could she really allow him to hurt her again?
Maggie and Sean had been walking the street of Columbus for hours. Neither of them talked, just like in the car. Only this time Maggie wasn’t silently crying, she was berating herself for holding back. She wanted to tell Sean how she really felt, but how could she now, when they were searching for his alcoholic father and every step formed another stress line around his eyes. He looked terrible, his handsome face tense and vulnerable.
At this point Maggie wondered if his father wasn’t already dead. It seemed strange to be searching for a random alcoholic on the streets of Columbus when a man who drank that much had probably passed on long ago. But she couldn’t tell Sean that. So they walked, and walked, and the lines became more visible on his face.
They turned a corner onto a side street, away from the larger buildings of downtown. The road led to what looked like a small church and nothing more. Sean paused, looking so completely lost for a moment that Maggie reached out and grabbed his hand. The silence had to end. If she couldn’t find his father, she could at least tell him the truth—some heartbreaks were worth the risk. “Sean, I—”
“That’s weird,” he interrupted, looking at the small church. “This use to be a liquor shop. My father spent hours panhandling in front of it, looking for money for booze. I could have sworn we would find him here. Instead it’s been turned into a church. What a joke.”
Sean chuckled bitterly and without humor. But there was nothing funny about the situation, and Maggie was lost for the words to make it better. She let go of his hand and walked over to the church sign. It read, “Our Savior’s Church, founded by Pastor John Miller.”
“Sean.” Maggie turned to Sean, pointing at the sign. “Look at this.”
He walked over slowly, as if he didn’t want it to be true. It was as if he’d already had figured out the truth. His father was here after all. But not as a drunk. “This is a joke.” Sean shook his head with another bitter chuckle. His skin looked so pale, Maggie worried he would pass out.
“Your father?”
He nodded and forced a thin smile. “I guess the bastard’s cleaned up his life.”
“I guess so.” Maggie shook her head, not knowing what else to say. “Are you going in?”
“I don’t know.” Sean let out a long sigh and reached out his hand to her. “Should I?”
He looked so vulnerable, so childlike in that moment, searching her eyes as if she held the answer to everything. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I think you have to.”
Sean nodded again, as if knowing this was true. Still, he looked so lost, it made her heart ache.
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.” He turned to her, and smiled—this time a real one. “I have to do this alone.”
“I understand.
” Even though she wanted to be his strength, she knew this was his battle.
“Will you wait for me?” His blue eyes appealed to hers in a desperate manner, making her smile.
“Of course.” She glanced down the street. “I’ll be at the diner on the corner.”
“Okay.” He looked relieved and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck, Sean.” Maggie cupped his face in her hands and kissed him on the lips—short enough not to distract him, but hard enough to give him strength. When she lifted her mouth from his, she could tell this was the right thing to do. He looked less pale and frightened. “You can do this.”
Sean let go and turned toward the door with determination. She watched him disappear into the church and only then turned to walk to the diner. She had done everything she could for him, but still it didn’t feel like enough. Although he had told her many a time that this was not her battle, she was still a part of this. In the same way, her heart ached with recognition that Sean was her future, her man, her life. Now if only she could find a way to convince him of that.
Maggie stopped walking and sat down on the church steps. She would wait right here until she knew what to do, until she knew what to say. This time she was not going to let Sean push her away.
***
Sean walked into the church—the first one he had ever entered. Row of pews aligned a long aisle, and candles lit a warm and inviting alter. The church was empty, but it didn’t feel empty. It felt warm and inviting, as if were filled with love. If his father was indeed the pastor, Sean was surprised. His father had never filled a day of his childhood with love or warmth, so how could he make this space so different?
He should have been filled with relief to know his father wasn’t dead. That he had turned his life around. After spending hours searching for a drunk, Sean was beginning to think he was dead, but deep down, for some reason, he knew his father wasn’t. The same reason Sean knew he was angry that his father was alive, not relieved. His father had somehow found the will to clean up his life after destroying Sean’s. It wasn’t fair! It would have almost been better if his father had died of the disease that had ruined Sean’s childhood. It would have been what the man deserved.
But again, Sean was looking for justice. His therapist had warned him many a times to let go of the anger and bitterness in his past. To find peace in his heart. To see his father as a man with flaws and forgive him for his mistakes. That was why he was here, after all, to find some sort of closure. But all Sean could feel was the bitterness and rage.
Sean slammed his fist into the nearest pew and listened to its deafening echoes bang off the empty room. It sounded as if someone had dropped a large book on the floor. And suddenly he was no longer alone.
“Sean?” His father suddenly appeared from behind the altar. He was dressed so nice, in a pair of slacks and white-, collared shirt. His face was so strong, so alert, Sean could actually see the blue eyes he’d inherited.
“Hello, Father.” Sean raised his chin, fists clenched at his sides, ready to pound the pew again. This was the first time he’d spoken to his father in over ten years. Sean was surprised to feel nothing but anger—no nerves, no secret longing for approval. Just anger.
“My God, I never thought I would see your face again.” His father smiled for the first time in Sean’s life, and the effect had him pounding his fist against the pew again.
“You should never see my face again.” Sean punched it again, and again, making the skin of his knuckles split and bleed. His father watched, not taking a step closer, but not taking a step away, either. Sean’s anger and rash behavior did not scare him.
“I understand your anger, son.”
“You understand nothing.” Sean gave the pew another blow, just to feel the physical pain and distract from the mental pain. “And I’m not your son.”
“I understand,” he said again, this time careful not to add son. The look on his face told Sean he did in fact understand and was sorry for it. As if he actually knew what he’d done to his son, but he didn’t, not by a long shot.
“Do you?” Sean took a step toward the altar, determined to make his father understand, to make him feel the full extent of Sean’s pain. “You understand how you ruined my childhood? How you dragged me on the streets with you, never giving me a proper home or a proper meal. Yelling and hitting me in your drunken rages, and selling everything for your precious liquor.”
“I do, and I’m sorry for all of it,” Sean’s father responded, holding his gaze. The tears of guilt glistening there increasing Sean’s rage.
“Sorry?” Sean laughed bitterly, taking another step toward his father. “Sorry for what? Being a horrible father? Spending all the money I saved for my future on your disease?”
Sean’s father kept holding his gaze and didn’t take a step back. Despite Sean perusing him, despite the fact that his son was tall, strong, and angry. He just nodded as if he understood, large tears rolling down his cheeks. “I deserve your anger, son—”
“Don’t call me son!” Sean ran the rest of the way to the altar and grabbed his father by his shoulders, shaking him. “I’m not your son! And you were never my father!”
“I know, Sean. I know,” his father cried loudly, pulling Sean to him, attempting to cup his face with his hands. Sean swatted him away.
“I don’t know what’s crueler, the fact you purposefully ruined my life.” Sean shook his head, gesturing around him. “Or the fact you decided to turn your life around after I left.”
“I had to, Sean!” he yelled back. “Don’t you understand? I had a disease. I couldn’t control it. But when I stole all your money and you left, I finally hit rock bottom. I knew I had to make a change. I had to find God.”
“Well good for you, Dad!” Sean shook his head, feeling his mind breaking, breaking. “I’m so glad you had that realization after you stole all my money.” He turned and pushed his father hard in the chest. “But don’t worry, it didn’t work. I still managed to make my dreams come true.” Sean pushed him again, letting go of everything. “I didn’t let you break me. I didn’t let you defeat me. You didn’t win!”
Sean pushed his father hard onto the floor. He didn’t get up and didn’t fight back. He just sat there, holding Sean’s gaze, pleading for him to understand. “I’m so sorry, Sean. I was sick. Don’t you understand? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me!” Sean stomped around, kicking anything in sight—books went flying, candles were knocked over. As he raged, he realized he was proving to his father exactly the opposite. Obviously the man had hurt him terribly and Sean would never be able to let it go. The demons had won.
***
As Maggie sat on the church steps, she heard Sean screaming and heard his father’s pleading voice. She held on to the cold snow with her fingers, forcing herself to stand still—reminding herself this was not her fight. But then Sean began screaming louder, and the sounds of things crashing to the ground forced her to her feet. Sean was losing his battle with control, and she had to settle him back down.
Maggie opened the church doors and saw Sean kicking everything in sight—books, candles, pews. His face was red, and his hand was bleeding. A large man sat on the altar watching him, large tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Do you hear me, Dad?” Sean kicked over another candle. “You didn’t hurt me! You can’t hurt me! You don’t matter!”
Maggie locked eyes with Sean’s father. He had the same piercing blue irises as his son, and they were large and pleading for her to stay away. As if he deserved his son’s wrath alone. As if he was trying to protect her from the monster he’d made. But Sean was no monster, and he was hers to protect.
“Sean, stop!” She ran over to him and grabbed his hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes.
“Don’t come in here, Maggie.” He was breathing hard, fighting for sanity. “I can’t control myself.”
“Yes, you can.” She cupped
his face and pulled him to her so that their foreheads touched. She breathed deeply for him, willing him to be calm. “I’m here, you’re not alone.” She tightened her grip on his face, reminding him of how real she was, of their connection. “You came here to talk to your father and find closure. Don’t let him steal that away from you too.”
When Sean was breathing normally again, he raised his forehead from hers, and there were tears in his eyes. “I wanted to find closure and fight these demons, Maggie. I want you in my life so bad, but I’m not strong enough.”
“You might not be strong enough, but we are.” She pressed a soft kiss against his lips and turned toward Sean’s father. “I’m Maggie.” She walked over and reached out her hand. “And I’m in love with your son.”
“I can see that.” Sean’s father took her hand and stood up. He had a smile on his face that was so like his son’s, she wanted to cry. But instead she concentrated on shaking his hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, Maggie.”
Sean paced behind them as if lost in thought. She knew he was still struggling to get his demons under control, but her confession of love had given him strength.
“Let me help you clean up.” Maggie began putting books back on the altar and righting the candles.
“Thank you,” Sean’s father responded and worked alongside her cleaning up Sean’s mess. It was a surreal moment, cleaning side by side with the man who had destroyed Sean’s childhood, with Sean pacing in the background, fighting for his sanity. The irony that all of this was going on inside a church only made the moment more surreal. But, Maggie supposed, church was the place you go for healing. And for better or for worse, there would be healing today. Sean was not leaving this church without closure, because Maggie was not leaving Ohio without Sean’s full heart and commitment.
Knockout Love Page 16