by Magan Vernon
I wasn’t a virgin.
Far, far from it.
But with each step toward Clay’s hotel room, my nerves grew more and more twisted.
How did we even start this?
Usually, when I hooked up, there were drinks, and we were somewhere we could just start going to town.
But tonight, as he slid the key card in the door, then opened it, I saw his room in a different light than I had earlier in the night.
Especially the freshly made bed in the center.
This wasn’t some random guy’s dorm room or the back of a pickup truck. This was a bed. In a hotel. With my now husband.
Thank God I was wearing my best push-up bra and panties. But what happened when I took off the push-up bra, and he saw that I was flat as a board? What if as soon as I was naked, he laughed?
Or even worse ... what if he didn’t look at me? Just kept his head down and went to town, not even caring if I finished?
Damn, sex when you actually liked the person was hard.
“Hey ...” His voice was soft as his rough hands brushed my cheek, tilting my chin so I met his warm green eyes.
“Hey ...” I replied, forcing a small smile.
“You went away there for a second. You okay?”
I nodded, sucking in a breath, and mentally psyched myself up before I reached for his belt loops, pulling him against me.
He grinned. “I like a take-charge girl.”
I started working the buttons of his pants and belt, but then his hands were on mine, and I trailed my gaze from his hands to his shaking head.
Biting my bottom lip, I tried to think of how to take this. Didn’t he just say he liked this?
What the hell?
Why were things even more confusing?
Sliding his hands onto my hips, he lifted me off the ground. I yelped as he thrust me into the air and set me on the bed, kneeling in front of me.
I propped myself up on my elbows, looking down to meet his smile. “I said I like a girl who takes charge, but I also know that I need to make sure you’re good and satisfied before I let you do that.”
“W-w-w-what?” I managed to stutter.
What the hell?
I never stuttered.
He didn’t reply and just smirked, his head dipping between my thighs, and all reason left my body when his lips reached my skin.
Holy hell.
I liked when he was rough, but the delicate flutter of his mouth trailing the apex of my thighs was a whole other sensation.
His head disappeared under my dress, and all I could do was feel each breath that trailed my skin until the nip of his teeth grazed right near the edge of my lace panties.
The man knew exactly what he was doing as he slowly slid the thin material down my legs, using his expert mouth. And soon, his tongue replaced the lace.
I lurched forward, my back arching as I let out a low moan and ripped off my dress and bra. Suddenly too hot to want any clothing on.
I’d never had a man down there before.
Usually, I was the one giving and not receiving.
The combination of his fingers and tongue had me panting and gripping the sheets as I cried out his name, practically forgetting my own in the process.
As I came down from my high, I looked down and met his eyes as he sucked in my hardened nub, bringing me to the brink once again.
Then he slowly climbed up my body, his fingers still working inside me as if he was playing the most brilliant symphony.
“I like you screaming my name,” he whispered against my lips before his mouth met mine.
I thought I wouldn’t like the taste of me on his lips, but the way he growled made me forget everything and just want to get lost at this moment.
I was married to this man.
I had already fallen hard for him.
And right now, I wanted to take this wherever it would lead us.
That was, until he pulled back, his eyes narrowing as he wiped the tears from my face that I didn’t even know had fallen.
“Please tell me these are happy tears,” he whispered.
“I ... don’t ... think so ...”
Chapter 25
Clay
I hadn’t been this excited for Christmas Eve since I was a kid.
We also didn’t go to Christmas Eve service when I was a kid where I had to dress up, but now, the Carringtons were regulars at First Baptist Church of Friendship.
First, there was dinner at my mom’s, then the church service.
Where I’d see Christy again.
Christy with her parents.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink, running my hands through my Mohawk.
It didn’t fit with the black button-down shirt. Or the man who wanted to run a ranch and had married the owner’s daughter for it.
My clippers were still on the counter after shaving my face, and I stared, my palms twitching.
I’d cut it once already, so what was the harm in buzzing it all off?
Before I could second-guess the decision, I turned on the blades, and the buzzing sound of metal rang through the room, then to my scalp. Blond strands fell into the sink in large chunks before my head was completely bare, save for the stubble left behind.
The Mohawk cowboy was no more.
AS SOON AS I WALKED into Mom’s house, everyone’s head turned.
Maybe it was because I was running late. Christy and I never got around to wrapping those gifts, so I had to grab bags at the store on the way over. Or maybe it was the big blond unicorn horn missing from my head.
“Your head ...” Mom stared wide-eyed, running her fingers through her own hair.
“Not much shorter than the crew cut I sported out of basic,” I muttered, sliding my hand over the little hair left on my scalp.
“Reason you decided to finally give up the Mohawk? Something happen? Or maybe someone?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Just figured it was about time,” I lied.
She nodded, opening her mouth to say something, but before she could, Brooke was at my side, standing on her tippy toes to run her hand over the little fuzz on my scalp. “Whoa. You look like an even more badass Mr. Clean. I dig it. Your girlfriend see it yet?”
“No, she hasn’t,” I said, not bothering to correct her that Christy wasn’t my girlfriend.
“Speaking of your girlfriend, we didn’t scare her off, did we?” Mom asked, raising her eyebrows.
I shrugged. “I hope not.”
She wouldn’t be running from what they said. She would be more likely to run from being caught with her shirt off by my roommate.
Mom frowned. “Oh. Is this going to be awkward if we see her family at church tonight? Because I know you usually don’t date girls from around here, so I’ve never run into them at the market or church. I don’t want this to be awkward.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “No more awkward than it usually is when the Carringtons walk into church.”
She smiled. “Though it might be a little different without my Mohawked son.”
“I’m still the same guy. Went from blue to blond, and now, it’s just gone. If you want, I can call my buddy Frankie in Garland and see if he can add a tattoo to my scalp? We’ll really get the church ladies talking that way.”
“I think I’ve already got that covered with the bunco lady rumors,” Brooke muttered.
Mom laughed as we followed her into the kitchen where Violet was stirring the potatoes. “Hey, they found your books without me telling them. With you and Eddie in the public eye, well, people are going to talk.”
“Wait until some of them really figure out how to use the internet on their phones,” I said, nudging my sister.
“Hey, you’re one to talk,” she quipped, taking the lid off the roast while Violet set the potatoes on a hot pad next to it on the counter.
“Damn, Ma, you and Vi cooked enough to feed five families. Are the Jaheeds coming, or is this all for us?”
I hated when these moments came up.
My stomach would always writhe with guilt when I thought about moving out of Mom’s house only months after Dad died and took Brooke with me.
Now it would be brought up again, and I couldn’t do anything but grunt and nod as I scooped some vegetables on my plate.
“Which is why the house is going on the market New Year’s Day, and Violet and I are looking at moving to a condo in Rockwall,” Mom blurted.
I dropped the serving spoon back into the corn, and Brooke and I both stared wide-eyed at the woman across the counter from us.
“You’re just telling us this now?” Brooke gasped.
Mom rolled her eyes. “Well, I would do it over dinner, but putting our plates together seems like a good time, so yes, Violet and I are moving. This house is just too big for the two of us, and it’s a lot to keep up on my own.”
I looked at the large kitchen and dining area. It was bigger than my entire house with the open concept and loft on the second floor that looked out into the room below.
Mom and Dad custom built this house when Brooke and I were still in diapers. There were so many memories in this house, hell, on the acreage where I spent a lot of time at the back pond, pretending I wasn’t spying on Brooke and Eddie.
“But ... what about school ... and ...” Brooke’s words trailed.
“Since Mom’s still teaching at Friendship, I’ll just ride with her back and forth to school, and we don’t need to pay the extra tuition,” Violet chimed in.
Since when did my little sister grow up?
“And the condo is totally cool. I have pictures on my phone,” she added, pulling out her phone and scrolling through before thrusting it between Brooke and me.
I glanced at a few pictures of a beige-looking place with updated granite, stainless steel, and views of Lake Ray Hubbard from a small balcony.
Violet and Brooke went on chatting about Violet’s new room and how she’d be walking distance from the movie theater, but I tried to drown them out.
Tried to drown out my own feelings coursing through me.
This wasn’t where I lived anymore, but there was something about leaving. The sentimental value of it all.
I never usually thought much about my future, but ever since Vegas, I thought about what would happen next. About the real possibility of running the ranch.
Marriage.
Kids.
Maybe all this would happen with Christy too, and instead of bringing her back to the house I grew up in, we’d be sitting on the balcony of a condo, watching the waves.
What the hell was I thinking?
This chick didn’t want to be my forever. And did I really want to be hers?
Mom’s warm hand on mine knocked me out of my thoughts.
“I know this is quite a shock for y’all.”
I shook my head, trying to keep my face neutral. “Naw. You gotta do what you gotta do, Ma.”
She sighed. “I was expecting more of a fight from you and your sister. While she’s the dramatic one, you’ve always had the ability to stand gruff. Not showing emotion and being the rock. I guess sometimes I take that for granted. Like the other night in front of your girlfriend.”
I raised an eyebrow.
She smiled. “I know we give you a hard time, and usually, you take it in stride, but I saw something different in your eyes when she was around. Something that said you were trying to protect her. I don’t know if it’s from yourself or the rest of us, but you don’t have to do that, Clay. You’re a good person, and if she can’t see that, then she doesn’t deserve you.”
I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “Wow. Going through a lot of feelings in this house tonight, aren’t we?”
“You say what you want to appear tough, but I know you have a lot on your mind. Just know that if you ever do really need to talk about anything, I’m here, okay?”
I smiled. “You mean at your new place?”
“Yeah. The new place, too.”
“I think it’s a good thing, Ma. As much as this house is full of old memories, sometimes we need a change. Something that shows us there’s more out there. That we aren’t what we’ve always pigeonholed ourselves into.”
She laughed. “You’re wiser than you give yourself credit for, you know that?”
“Sometimes.”
WE WALKED INTO FIRST Baptist Church of Friendship as a family.
The place was packed for the holiday service, but one family in the back stood out the most.
Mom must have noticed too because she leaned in close, whispering, “Think your girlfriend’s family saved that pew for us?”
Trying to hide my surprise and the leaping in my chest at the thought of that empty pew, I nodded, keeping my face still. “Yeah, I guess that one’s open, so maybe it’s saved, or we just got lucky.”
“Or a little bit of both.” Brooke winked, interlocking our arms as we headed to our spot.
The Carringtons were a part of the Creaster crowd—aka the Christmas and Easter churchgoers—but since Dad passed, Mom wanted us to become a part of the congregation.
I usually found some excuse not to go, but just knowing Christy would be there had a new surge of electricity running through me, and for the first time, I wanted to sit in the cold wooden pews and stare at the giant cross statue.
But even with all the gossiping church ladies in their Christmas best, my eyes zeroed in on that glossy black hair falling down her shoulders and her lacy red long-sleeved dress.
I had just seen her in nothing but a pair of jeans and a skimpy bikini not too long ago. No matter what she wore, she always had this hollow look in her eyes that brightened whenever they found mine. The single jolt of her smile could send every emotion and nerve ending I had into a tailspin, no matter where we were.
Piling into the booth in front of the Quinns, the patriarch was the first to acknowledge me, slapping me on the back with one hand and rubbing his big moose knuckles over my scalp with the other. “Holy shit, son, I was just getting used to that Mohawked cowboy, and now you turn into a damn cue ball.”
“Honey, language,” Tomiko, his wife, hissed, smacking his arm.
Though the woman was petite like her daughters with harsh eyebrows and Texas mile-high black hair that I was pretty sure was a wig, the woman scared the shit out of me. Her husband, too, by the way he let go of me and sunk back, adjusting his bolo tie before putting an arm around his wife and kissing the top of her hair-sprayed head.
“Just had to give him a hard time, Tomi.”
I made small talk with the guy, but my eyes kept drifting to Christy and the way she nibbled on her bottom lip that was painted a deep crimson color. It probably was a sin to get hard in church, but if that was the case, then red lipstick shouldn’t have been invented.
Trying to concentrate the rest of the service was even more difficult, especially when Christmas service involved a lot of joining hands and talking to the people next to you. By the time it was over, I was half tempted to just throw Christy over my shoulder and take her to one of the back rooms. But her father stopped me before I even reached the end of my pew, putting a big bear paw on my shoulder.
“You headin’ over to the Conti’s place, son?”
I shook my head. “No, sir. I’ve got a dog at home to feed.”
He nodded. “Too bad, but I understand. Dogs are family too.”
“Do you think maybe you can give me a ride?” a small voice piped up, and we all looked to see Christy staring wide-eyed.
“You don’t want to see Abbey at Conti’s?” Tomiko raised her eyebrows.
“Probably not the best thing to say in church, but you know my feelings on Lia Conti,” she muttered.
Tomiko nodded, but her eyes still narrowed in a glare that I had a feeling had a lot mo
re behind it that, causing Christy to stare at the ground.
“I don’t mind. The ranch is on my way home, and Noah has another service to play piano for, so I have room,” I said, adding in a smile for good measure, though I was internally pumping my fist.
“Well thanks, son. I always know I can count on you to take care of my girl,” her dad replied with a big grin I was pretty sure wouldn’t be there if he knew exactly just how well I really did take care of her.
NEITHER OF US SAID a word until the steeple was out of sight. As if somehow, we knew her parents would be able to see us.
Finally, when I turned on FM 6, Christy let out a deep breath. “Do you really have to go feed Snogs?”
I laughed. “Yeah, but that can wait if you need to go to your place first.”
And invite me in.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing her. I got her a gift too.”
I glanced at Christy out of the corner of my eye. “Too?”
She smiled. “Well, I couldn’t get you something and show up empty-handed for your dog.”
“I didn’t even think you liked her that much.”
“I’ll admit she’s grown on me. I guess Carringtons have a tendency to do that.”
I shook my head. “Well, shit, good to know I’m growing on you since I got you a little something too.”
“When the hell did you do that? I thought you hated crowds and couldn’t shop on your own.”
I took her hand, intertwining our fingers before bringing it to my lips. “That’s what internet shopping is for.”
Our hands remained linked the rest of the drive to my house, the only noise being the background of the wind whipping against my truck.
As soon as we pulled in the drive, Snogs’ head poked through the front curtains, and her tail beat wildly against them once she saw us approaching.
“Someone’s happy,” Christy said with a laugh.
“Yeah, she might sort of like you too.”
I opened the front door, about to tell Snogs to calm the fuck down when instead, Christy crouched to her level, petting the wiggly little mutt until she laid on her back, letting my girl rub her stomach into a sweet purring submission.