Shea closed her eyes. Why had she answered her phone? She could have put it on silent and slept in just a bit more with the Shep of her dreams.
“Mother.”
“Yes. I’m your mother, for all the good it has done. I gave you good breeding, a roof over your head, and a future so bright and filled with promise that I should have won awards for it. And yet what do you do? You leave all of that to work with numbers and become some tramp who lives alone and sleeps in with god knows who.”
Her mother’s fantasies of her life were much more enjoyable than the reality.
Just saying.
“Mother. Good morning to you too.” Honestly, there really wasn’t anything else to say when her mother started one of her tirades.
“It would have been a good morning if you’d been the daughter I wanted you to be. Not the daughter you are.”
Ouch.
No, she hadn’t said anything different than what she’d been saying for years, but still…
Ouch.
“Is there a reason you called this morning?” It was Sunday, after all. Since it was normally a day of rest, Mrs. Reginald Little the Third should at least be preparing to cut down other women at tea while not actually looking as though she was doing the cutting, not bothering her only daughter.
Her mother gave a long, drawn-out sigh. Seriously, the woman had that down to an art form.
“You’re expected at brunch this morning. Richard will be there, and you can apologize. Hopefully, he will be gracious enough to take you back. I’ve worked all I can at this point to make up for your failures. Don’t disappoint me by being yourself.”
Shea ran a hand through her hair, the pang at her mother’s familiar words like a sharp lance across her chest
“I can’t go today, Mother.” Or any day. “I have plans.” Her plans with Shep weren’t until later in the day, but her mother didn’t need to know that.
“Plans? You?” Her mother laughed, and Shea winced. “Honey, you don’t need to lie to me. I know you have no plans. Who would want to be with you? Now get dressed and wear something I’ve picked out for you. It won’t do you any good to look like a whore in front of Richard. Look demure but make sure your breasts are high. He likes breasts. Once he gets a good look at what you have—which isn’t that much, honestly—you can use those whore wiles of yours to get him to put that ring on your finger.”
There wasn’t enough freaking coffee in the world to deal with this.
Seriously?
She had to be both a whore and demure to keep a man she didn’t want?
Jesus, did her mother even listen to herself?
“On that note, Mother, I’m hanging up now.”
“Don’t you be an ungrateful brat. I’ve done everything for you, and this is how you repay me? I will see you at brunch, or there will be hell to pay.”
Shea hung up as her mother continued her tirade—something she wouldn’t have done even two days ago.
It seemed laughing at night on the street with a man who held her close had helped her more than she thought. Just the idea of having a plan for that night—even if it was her job to make the plan more concrete—was worth any amount of yelling her mother would do later.
Although she would have liked to sleep in, she couldn’t now. Not with the oily feeling sweeping over her at that early morning phone call.
She’d just have to get up and begin her day.
Shea showered, ate breakfast, and then planned their date for that night at the Preservation Hall. When Shep told her where they were going, she’d blinked. It wasn’t a real date-like place, but he wanted to take her anyway. He said they’d do dinner and…other things afterward.
She blushed when she thought about what those other things could be.
Shea might not be the whore her mother thought she was, but she was ready to see what happened with Shep. She couldn’t help herself.
By the time late afternoon rolled around, she was dressed and ready to go. Shep would be there any minute to pick her up. Unlike the previous night when they’d arrived separately, she was fine with him knowing where she lived. Considering he’d dropped her off at her doorstep the night before, it was a little late to be worried about that.
Also, unlike the previous night, she wasn’t dressed like an assistant or someone going to a high-end cocktail party.
Nope.
She’d had to search in the back of her closet for her outfit and luckily had enough on her “never-going-to-happen” rack, that she could be comfortable. She wore skinny jeans, a cute blouse, and those black fuck-me pumps she’d told Shep about.
She usually wore those with a dress, but she wanted to be a little daring today.
Hopefully he’d like it.
Damn it! She had to stop doubting herself. It had taken only one phone call from her overbearing shrew of a mother for her to revert back to the adolescent she’d been.
She was not that person anymore.
She just had to remember that.
A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts, and her hand went to her neck, her pulse fluttering.
He was here.
Okay, Shea, you can do this.
She smoothed out her top, her heart speeding the entire time. When she opened the door, she sucked in a breath—her usual reaction to seeing him.
He wore another dark button-up shirt that clung to him in all the right places.
He was beautiful.
Freaking beautiful.
“I knew you’d look fucking amazing in jeans, and I was not wrong. Not by a long shot.”
Shep’s words slid over her, and she sighed.
Yes. Sighed like a schoolgirl, and she didn’t care.
She ran her hands down her jeans, still not sure she was wearing the right thing—even with Shep’s obvious approval.
Jesus, she needed to get control over her insecurities. She wasn’t sitting in her mother’s living room being yelled at for spilling punch on her dress or for not wearing the latest fashions. Tonight she could not have cared less.
A hand palmed her cheek and forced her to gaze at Shep’s face. He frowned, his brows lowering.
“What’s wrong, baby? Too crass for you?”
She blinked, confused. “Oh, no. I don’t mind what you said.” She blushed. “I liked what you said.”
He let out a breath then brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. She sucked in her lips, loving the feel of his touch a little too much.
“Then tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. You were a million miles away, and it didn’t look like you were in a good place. What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing,” she lied. She always lied when it came to her mother and her issues. She didn’t want to put a damper on their date any more than she already had. He didn’t need to know that her mom was a psychopath who beat her daughter down with words every chance she got.
Her mother didn’t know Shea had a storm brewing beneath the calm exterior.
She wanted to be different, but was too afraid to be that way. She’d shut her true self away for so long she didn’t know how to get back out.
Shep tilted her face up then brushed her lip with his thumb. “You don’t have to lie to me, Shea. We’re supposed to be getting to know each other, remember?”
“For my tattoo. You don’t need to know everything, Shep.”
“Baby, you know it’s more than the tattoo. It’s been more than the tattoo since you ran into me on the street and I couldn’t breathe when I stared into those gorgeous eyes of yours. Yes, I will give you the best tattoo in the world. You’re already so beautiful that anything I put on your skin will only enhance the art. But that’s not all. I also want to find out what makes you tick, to know you. Last night we didn’t talk about tattoos or designs. We talked about who we are. What we want. I don’t want to go back. I’m here now because I want to know you, and I know you want to know more about me. Don’t pull away now, Shea. Talk to me.”
This man
.
Damn it.
He took all she had and gave so much more back.
How the hell did he do that?
Leaning on him would take too much from her, but, hell, she wanted to do it.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head in a quick jerk. “No. You don’t get to be sorry, Shea. You’re not doing anything wrong. Don’t you understand? I want to know you. Every part of you. I can’t do that if you close up and hide behind your apologies.”
“Shep…”
“Talk to me, precious. What was on your mind that took you so far away? Why are you hiding from me? I know we haven’t known each other long, but can’t you feel it? That connection that means more than just a passing glance?”
She closed her eyes. “Yes. I feel it.”
“Look at me, Shea.”
She did, his piercing blue eyes taking her in.
“Tell me what happened.”
“My mother is a bitch.”
He blinked, and she held back a snort.
“That was a little blunt,” she said.
“Uh, yeah. I’m not disagreeing with you on the bitch part, though, if she’s making you feel like you looked just then.” He moved, tugging her to her couch. “Tell me about it.”
She loved the way he looked in her house, his tattoos and devil-may-care looks against her prim and proper decorating. He could totally dirty it up but in the best way possible.
She sank into the cushions like she had before, but this time, Shep pulled her even closer. The heat from his body scorched her, and she took it all in.
Oh yes, she wanted this.
Wanted him.
She just had to figure out a way to say it.
“Well, like I said, my mother is a bitch. No matter what I did as a kid, and even as an adult, it has never been good enough for her. I was born to be a debutante, to be the personification of the Little name, to use our money and influence to gain even more money and influence. From a young age, I’ve known that I was to be a pawn in my family’s political and power games. I was born to marry well—to whomever they chose—and to be the best wife I could be. I wasn’t taught to cook, but how to order servants around. I wasn’t taught to clean, but to live in a pristine house taken care of by other people.”
She took a deep breath, the resentment that she’d always tried to hide filling her.
Shep brushed a lock of hair from her face, and she leaned into his touch, needing him more than she dared admit.
“I’m not that person, Shep. At least, I’ve tried not to be that person. This house? I paid for it on my own. It’s small, too small for my mother, who tells me that repeatedly. It’s only two bedrooms, but fits me wonderfully. The things you see in it? They’re all my mother. I couldn’t stop her from decorating it so it would at least look ‘decent’ for her. I tried, but she found a way in and decorated when I was away for work.”
“Jesus. She wouldn’t even let you have a little bit of yourself in it?”
“Who am I, Shep? You’re trying to figure it out for ink…and because you want to,” she added as he narrowed his eyes. “I don’t even know who I am. I’m trying to figure it out though. I want to figure it out.”
Her chest constricted then lessened as she said the words she’d been afraid to.
“I want to grow beyond the person my mother has deemed me to be and failed at being for her. I…I just don’t know how to do that. And, no, I didn’t tell you all she’s said to me, even what she said this morning, but I’m ready to move on. I have to.”
Shep moved on the couch so he faced her. “Damn, baby. I want to know what your mother said to you to make you hide like that, but I’ll wait. Now, as for finding yourself? God, woman, you’re already shining through. I can’t wait for you to find out who you are because I’m seeing her right now and liking it.”
“Really?” She smiled, liking that he was so passionate about his words.
“Really, baby.”
She moved then, cupping his face with her hands. “I don’t want to go out tonight,” she blurted out.
A look of hurt crossed his face before he smoldered, his eyes darkening, a slow smile crawling over his face. “Oh really?”
“Really.”
He traced a finger along her cheek, and she shuddered. “What do you want to do tonight, baby?”
She traced her hand along his beard, loving the way his scruff brushed her skin. It made her wonder what it would feel like on other parts of her body.
She felt herself blush, and Shep chuckled, a rough sound that shot straight to her pussy.
“I take it by that blush you have an idea of what you want to do tonight. Let me guess. Does it involve me licking every inch of your body, sucking on those nipples and that sweet pussy of yours, then filling you with my cock?”
She swallowed hard. “That sounds like a plan,” she croaked out.
“Do you know what you want first?”
Would asking for all of it be too much? Too brazen?
“Anything. Just tell me what to do.”
By the way he groaned, she knew she’d said the right thing.
“Fuck yeah. Just do what I tell you and you’ll come hard, baby. You’ll love every minute of it.”
She squirmed in her seat. “I already do.”
“Hell yeah, you do.”
Shep took her lips, his tongue sliding along the crease then tangling with her own. She moaned into his mouth, wanting, no, needing, more. He nibbled and licked along her lips then kissed down her jaw to bury his face in her neck. She arched toward him, wanting him to bite, suck…do something.
His hands found her breasts through her top, and she pressed her body closer.
“You like it?”
She just moaned, unable to speak.
“I’m going to fuck these pretty breasts of yours, Shea. Maybe not tonight, but soon. They’re more than a handful, perfect for my cock. I can’t wait to see my dick sliding between them as you hold them together. Maybe I’ll even fuck your mouth at the same time so your plump lips will lick and suck the crown of my dick as I fuck your breasts.”
Jesus, the man was good at dirty talk.
She was about to come just by listening to him.
He stood up, bringing her with him. “Let’s get these clothes off so I can see you. All of you.”
She swallowed hard. She wasn’t ashamed of her body, though she knew she wasn’t the skinniest of girls. Her breasts were still perky, but not as high as they’d been when she was younger. Once she’d reached thirty, her body had curved and started to settle. She could only fight gravity for so long without losing a few battles.
Shep put a finger under her chin and forced her gaze to his. “Eyes on me, Shea. Stop with the doubt. You’re fucking sexy, and I want to see you naked. Got it? You’re beautiful, so stop thinking that you’re not.”
She smiled then reached for the bottom of her blouse. Shep’s hands covered hers.
“No, let me.”
He slowly tugged her shirt over her head then threw it behind him. “Jesus, Shea. How many layers are you wearing?”
She smiled at the annoyance in his tone. Apparently he wanted her naked quickly. Well, so did she.
“Just this cami and a bra. Then my jeans and panties. Oh, and my boots and socks.”
Shep just shook his head then lowered his head to capture her lips. “I don’t mind, baby. It just makes the anticipation that much sweeter.”
Shea huffed out a breath. “Any more anticipation and I’ll combust.”
“Oh, honey, just you wait.”
She gulped. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He divested her of her cami then knelt before her. He shucked off her boots quicker than she would have thought possible, tugged off her socks, and then slid her jeans down her legs, leaving her in her matching bra and panties.
He stayed kneeling in front of her, his gaze openly hungry. “Gotta say, Shea, love the fucking pink bows on black lace.�
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She blushed and lowered her head. She loved wearing sexy things under her clothes, and now that she’d seen that hungry look on Shep’s face, she’d be sure to always wear something sexy for him.
At least underneath her clothes.
His calloused fingers slid up her body as he stood, bringing her closer. “God, Shea, you’re beautiful.”
He took her lips before she could answer, leaving her breathless.
His fingers made quick work of her bra, and he tossed it over his shoulder. Her breasts fell, heavy, her nipples already hard little peaks.
He brushed his thumb over one peak, plucked it, then did the same to the other. She arched, wanting more.
“Look at these nipples of yours, baby. Like berries, suckable, ready for my tongue.” He bent down, captured one in his mouth, and sucked.
Her pussy clenched, and she moaned.
Hell, he felt so good.
His tongue flicked her nipple, and then he bit down gently. The shocking sting went straight to her core, and she rubbed her legs together, needing release.
He pulled back and gripped her hips. “No you don’t. You don’t get to make yourself come. That’s my job. My treat.”
“Shep.”
He had to be kidding.
She needed to come.
Now.
“Nope. Go sit on the couch and spread your legs, baby.”
She sucked in a breath at the order, but did as she was told. The quicker she did it, the faster Shep would let her come. It didn’t make sense to dawdle.
She sank into the cushions, blushed, and spread her legs so he could see how drenched her panties were. There would be no hiding from him now.
“Jesus. You’re so fucking wet I can see it with your panties on. You want this as much as I do.”
“I want it more,” she said, leaving herself vulnerable.
“Oh, honey, I don’t think it’s a competition. We’ll tie in this.” He sank to his knees, fully clothed, and pressed his face to her pussy, inhaling.
“Shep!” She tried to close her legs and move away, but he pressed her thighs with his large hands, keeping her open.
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