Eyes Wide Open (Healing Hearts #2)

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Eyes Wide Open (Healing Hearts #2) Page 29

by Renee Dyer


  When your heart shatters, people tell you someday it will mend, that you’ll be whole again. What they don’t tell you is that the pieces may not go back together the right way. What I’m learning today, is that they just might go back together in a better way.

  Tucker may just be my better fit.

  “Can I ask you something?” I pull away and stare up into his eyes, giving him my full attention. I wish I hadn’t because the look in his eyes tells me he’s worried about whatever he’s about to say. I’ve promised him honesty, so I nod my head yes even though I’m not sure I want to hear the words he’s about to utter.

  “Have you told your friends about the twins yet?”

  Like a hammer to my gut, I feel pain overtake me. Of all the questions he could have asked me, I didn’t think this would be it. I can’t form any words and tears come without me being able to stop them. I shake my head no, hating myself for the weakness I’m showing. Dammit! I’ve been doing better. I’ve been stronger. Pull yourself together, Adri!

  I mentally chastise myself. Scream and shout in my head that this is not how I want to spend my last night with him before he heads back home, but this wound refuses to close and heal. I’ve been working on my demons over Alex leaving, but I’ve neglected to deal with my demons of losing the twins and here they are to torment me. My breathing is coming too fast; my heart is beating too strong. Oh God, please let this stop. The room is starting to spin.

  “Adriana, you need to calm down. I’ve got you.” I feel his hands come around me. Somewhere in the fog my mind has taken me to, I feel his hands around my waist, sliding up my back, offering me comfort. “Sweetness, you need to breathe. Can you do that? Breathe with me, okay? Adriana, breathe. Goddammit!” My head jolts up and I’m locked in a swirling ocean of blue. “That’s it, breathe with me. In and out. In and out. That’s right. I’ve got you.”

  I don’t know how long we stand like that, him telling me to breathe with him, but eventually my head clears and the panic attack subsides. Embarrassment washes over me. “Oh, Tucker, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to—”

  “Shh. Don’t apologize, but I am going to say one thing and I want you to just listen. You don’t have to say anything back and that’s okay with me. I think these attacks would stop if you were honest with the people you love and got this secret off your chest. Carrying this burden is going to destroy you. I’m no shrink, but I can see the damage it’s doing by holding it inside. You don’t have to decide today or even tomorrow, but please think about it. You deserve better than this and they deserve to be recognized for having existed.”

  My breath catches in my throat and I find I can’t look away from his gaze. He’s not angry. He’s not judgmental. I only see caring in his eyes that I want to get lost in right now. Once again, I’m speechless and all I can do is nod.

  “Enough emotional stuff. How about I show you your birthday present?” His lips spread into a huge grin and I can’t help but smile with him. “Come with me.” He walks out of our embrace and grabs my hand, dragging me behind him. I can feel his excitement as he leads me up the stairs.

  Wait a minute… is he leading me to my bedroom? What the hell could he be giving me in my bedroom? Wait, why am I questioning this?

  We walk in and he keeps me behind him. “Close your eyes, sweetness.”

  “That’s a little kinky, dontcha think?” I tease.

  A light chuckle ripples through the air and I swear I can feel the vibrations between my legs. “Not yet, sweetness, not yet. He pulls me further into the room and I feel his hands go around my waist. He turns me and I can tell he has stepped away from my body. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

  I open my eyes and stare at—what the fuck? Is that? On the wall, across from my bed, is a very large TV. I had a TV mounted there before, but this one is easily three times the size. I have no idea why he would want me to have such a large television in my room and I’m not rude enough to ask. I’m sure he has a plan. I’m going to smile, thank him for my ginormous TV, and wait for him to tell me what this is about.

  “Th-thank you for the TV, Tucker,” I say, keeping my smile and my voice even. I don’t want him to know I’m completely confused by his gift.

  “You like it?” he asks.

  “It’s wonderful. I bet I won’t miss a single detail on that bad boy.”

  He just chuckles at me and now I’m even more confused. “You really think I bought you a TV so you can lay around watching it while I’m not here with you? Oh, sweetness, you are so mistaken. That TV has Skype built into it.” He looks at me with mischief twinkling in his eyes. “Ever had phone sex before, Adriana?”

  I shake my head no. I’ve never done a lot of things when it comes to sex. I hadn’t realized how safe my sex life was with Alex until having sex with Tucker. He was my comfort and that was perfect for us, but what’s perfect about Tucker and me is that things are hot. I have a feeling what he’s about to propose is about to steam things up even more.

  “Well, this is even better than phone sex.” He gives me his crooked, half mouth smile, where one side lifts, and my insides turn to mush. My God, he is far too good looking and the bed behind us is looking really appealing. I want him to get on with what he has to say so I can push him down and have my way with him.

  “Wh-what did you have in mi-mind?” I struggle to get my words out, my brain muddled with thoughts of him naked. His olive skin sprawled out before me, his tattoos on display for me to run my hands over, all his muscles contracting under my touch. I have to clench my thighs at my wayward thoughts and I’m sure my cheeks are pink.

  “I’m thinking on one of these bad boys, I can see you in your real size splendor as we have a threesome.”

  “Ah, excuse me. Did you just say a threesome?”

  “Oh yes. I’ll be in my bed and you’ll be here with B.O.B. So, what do ya say? You want to plan a Skype sex date with me?”

  My mouth goes dry and I wonder if I can do this with him. I think I can do the Skype thing, but can I use my vibrator with him too? I stare at him, trying to find my words, trying to find the inner sex kitten that was trying to scratch its way out a few moments earlier.

  “I think I’d like to try that.” It’s the best I can offer.

  “Well then, let’s practice a little, shall we?” I squeal as he lifts me up and plops me on the bed, pouncing down on top of me. It’s not lost on me that this is the first time we’ve been in my bed since our first time together and I’m okay with it.

  I must really be ready to move on.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Tucker

  Excitement courses through me, my body getting hotter the closer I get to my place. Tonight, I finally get my date with Adriana. It’s been a long, tortuous week of work, but I worked myself and the crew extra hard to make sure I was out of there early today. I wanted to be sure that I had to time to go home and tidy up my bedroom. She’s never seen my place and for reason’s I can’t understand, I’m nervous. I’ve never been nervous about anyone seeing my place before. It’s always just been a space I rent, but I find I want her to approve of it.

  It’s silly really to worry about anything being a mess since the cleaner was there yesterday, but I need this to be perfect. She’s perfect. I shake my head to rid my worry and step on the gas. I want to be home so I can feel closer to her. Funny that I can be three thousand miles away and still trick myself into feeling close to her.

  I know I need this too, after finishing those damn books this week. I was up into the early morning hours after work each night. I had started Taking Chances weeks ago and had mostly finished it, but after finishing it on the plane home, I had to read Stealing Harper. I had to know what Chase was thinking and, man, I could totally relate to him. I still can’t believe I read chick books, but I’m glad I did. I get it now. Why Adriana told Grams those books were more therapeutic to her than any therapist could be.

  I didn’t see it at first. When I first read it, all I want
ed to do was fly straight back to her and hold her, tell her I was sorry for what she must have gone through. The visions I had in my head… of my Adriana… the visions I still have, give my nightmares and daymares, if there is such a thing. The sounds I imagine, the twisting metal, the fear and the pain, I can’t stop seeing it in my head and it’s messing with me. I couldn’t understand at first why she would want to read that over and over, but after thinking about it, I figured out why she needed those books. It was the hope and love they represented. I could see how she would cling to that with everything in her and pray that she would find peace. In her world, thrown into darkness and agony, she needed to believe it could be like the books she loves. She needed to believe she could have her happy ending or at the very least, a version of it where everyone’s smiling at the end.

  I’ve started rereading them because I want to see if I look at them differently now that I know how they end. As a man, I can picture how other guys would say Chase was a dick for what he did to Brandon. I found myself understanding Chase, especially when I read his book. Hell, I was even routing for him. Guess that means I’m a dick, too. He tried to stay away from her. He thought he wasn’t good enough, that he would taint her, but there are some women that no matter how hard you try, they get under your skin and no matter how hard you try not to, they are the itch you have to scratch. They get into your bloodstream, into every crevice of your being; they intertwine themselves into every facet of your life until you can’t see anything but them. And by then, you’re helpless to do anything but love them. Too bad, that’s normally the second you see them and you’re so blindsided by their beauty that you don’t know what hit you until it’s too late. I know Chase’s story because I lived it with Adriana. I tried to stay away, but her pull was too strong.

  As Grams would say, she’s the grapes to my wine.

  Smiling, I open the door to my place and hum Your Love is a Song as I go about getting ready for my date with the most beautiful girl in the world. I throw my keys down, check my calendar and see I have a lunch date with Eddie tomorrow. I had forgotten all about it. I’ve been so wrapped up in Adriana, I haven’t been spending any time with my best friend outside of work.

  The picture of her and I greets me as it does every night. I can’t think of a time I’ve ever been happier or looked more forward to seeing someone. The next hour is going to feel like an eternity to wait to see her face.

  I eat dinner, check my bedroom—all clean—brush my teeth, not sure why this matters, and start to get antsy. I wonder if she’s okay with this date. Was my gift too presumptuous? I want to open her up to new experiences, but what if this is too much for her? Would she tell me or would she go through with it and resent me for it? Doubt and worry eat at me. I want to call and tell her we don’t have to do this. But, what if she wants to and then I make that call? Will she think I don’t want her?

  Isn’t that how women think? I hear the guys at work say they can never turn their women down for sex, for any reason or the women think they don’t want them anymore. I don’t get that. Women turn men down all the time. We just keep trying.

  All my worry leads me to the moment of truth. It’s time to turn the TV on and log in. I tell myself I’ll be able to tell just by one look if she’s into this idea, but in my head, I’m worried that I won’t have a clue.

  The screen pops up and there she is. Apparently, she was logged in and waiting for me. She’s sitting with her legs out to the side, propped up by her pillows, in pink hipster panties with a neon green Superman symbol across the front and has a matching camisole on. Her hair is braided, falling over one shoulder and there’s a silky, purple bag beside her. I want to take in all the details of her surroundings, see if her cheeks are flushed, but I’m drawn to her nipples that are showing through the light pink fabric of her top. The large, green ‘S’ between her breasts only making them stand out like two bright beacons calling out to me.

  “Hey, sweetness. Got a thing for Superman?” It’s stupid, not even slightly sexy, but I can’t think of anything else to say and I still haven’t brought my eyes to her face. I feel like a dog with drooling lips, waiting for permission to eat.

  “Mm-hmm. Want to be the Superman to my Lois Lane?” she whispers out.

  That snaps me out of it. Her shy, flirty ways get me into the game. My eyes snap up to hers and I smirk, giving her half a smile. “Get ready for the man of steel, baby.”

  She snorts and I know I’ve just helped to work the nerves out she was holding in. Feeling way overdressed in my jeans and t-shirt, I lose my shirt. I enjoy how her eyes go large and she has to visibly swallow. Good. I want her affected.

  “What’s in the bag?” I ask. Her cheeks blush a beautiful pink and I love that I got a full wall TV installed. She is more than life sized. I see every detail.

  “Uh… B.O.B. Y-you said you wanted me to bring him.” She runs her fingers over the top of her blankets in a circular motion in front of her. I wonder if she knows she’s doing it or if it’s nerves.

  “Does B.O.B. mind sharing you with me?” I ask, dropping my voice to the tone I know drives her mad. I see her shift her legs a little and smile. Affected. She shakes her head no. “Good, because I plan on us having fun tonight.”

  “Tucker,” her voice is uneasy and I wonder if this is when she’ll tell me she’s not ready to do this. “Have you ever done this before? I-I mean, have you Skyped like this before?” I do know what she means.

  “No, Adriana. You’re the first one I’ve Skyped with.” I see her shoulders relax and I feel bad that I didn’t notice the tension before. I’m not a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m not going to tell her that. My first couple of years out here, I wasn’t choosy about who I bedded. Pussy was thrown in my face all the time. I was nineteen when I made it in my first big movie. I thought I was the shit and I didn’t care who I slept with as long as she was hot. I learned my lesson after the first woman who faked a pregnancy. I tried the relationship route after that. They all failed, but I stopped fucking around.

  “How do we do this?” She’s so cute when she’s unsure of herself and hot all at the same time. I want to dirty her up in the worst way.

  “There’s no right way or right answer here, sweetness. We just do what feels good. Would it make you feel better if I was naked?” I’m already rock hard from her perfect nipples peeking through her top. I’ve been ready to break free from the confines of my jeans since the damn TV turned on.

  “Well, I am curious about this steel you told me about.” She nibbles her bottom lip and I’ll be damned if I don’t want to come in my pants while watching her. She has no idea how her innocence turns me on. I stand in the middle of my bed and slowly undo my jeans. Her eyes lock on my fingers, watching each and every movement they make. I let my pants fall and like I’m on a trampoline, I jump up and fall back on my ass with a laugh, my pants still attached at my ankles. Her laughter and snorts sound out through the television.

  “Now, that was sexy. I did, though, see a steel rod and some iron balls. Very impressive.” Her giggles have me sitting up and laughing as I try to finish removing my pants. This is not how I planned on our date going.

  “I aim to please, Ms. Lane. Now, I believe you have your work supplies in that bag there. A good reporter never comes to work unprepared.”

  Her breath hitches as I change the tone of our bantering. Her hand reaches over to the bag and brings it in front of her. She dumps out a bottle and—what the fuck is that?

  “Ms. Lane, could you explain to me what that pink device is you have there and why it’s shaped like that?” It doesn’t look like any dick I’ve ever seen. I guess you could call it a dick… on crack. One, the thing is bright, and I mean bright fucking pink, and it’s curved at, I want to say almost a forty-five degree angle. I’ve seen dildos in all shapes and sizes. I’ve used many vibrators with women, but this is new to me.

  “This is B.O.B.,” she says, looking at me confused.

  “I f
igured that, but why is he pink and why is he bent like that?”

  She laughs and I feel like a fool. I must be missing something. I don’t go around buying sex toys, but now I think I should spend more time researching them because apparently I should know the answer to this.

  “He’s pink because he was part of the pink pearl line and he’s bent, as you call it, because his job is to hit the g-spot.” Fucking brilliant. You need to have a broken dick to hit that spot just right. A woman must have created that piece of gold right there. I’m in awe of B.O.B. He vibrates and he hits every woman’s happy spot.

  “I think I may be jealous of B.O.B., for many reasons right now, but the biggest is that he gets to touch you. Is it weird that I want to see him touch you?”

  Her eyes go feral, I see hunger burning, and I know she’s not backing down. “Do you wish you were touching me, Tucker?” she rasps out.

  “More than you know, sweetness. Lose the top. I want to see those pretty tits.” Her deep inhale of breath goes right to my throbbing cock. When she lets the air out, I swear I can feel it feather across my skin, over the head of my penis, making it jump in anticipation of being touched. It’s amazing what the mind can convince itself of.

  She slowly, achingly slow, pulls her top up, baring her flat stomach to me first, then her rib cage, and finally, her perfect, round tits come into view. Her nipples are hard peaks and I wonder if they rival the hardness going on between my thighs. I’d give anything to roll them between my fingers, run my tongue over them, and make her scream out my name while she grabs fistfuls of my hair. My balls ache thinking of her and all the things I can’t do to her.

  She’s sprawled out like a buffet of all my favorite treats and I’m on a fucking diet. Irony at its best.

 

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