by Kreig, K. L.
“My turn.” His low, raspy timbre is like a magnet directly to my sex, which is now throbbing with its own heartbeat. He could ask me to do absolutely anything right now and I would. Without hesitation. He looks at me before asking, “Front or back?”
“Jesus, Gray.” My eyes involuntarily close at his clean words, but filthy connotation. When I open them, his gaze is back out the windshield, but raw lust tightens his face. “Both,” I whisper. Because it’s true and he knows it.
He closes his eyes with almost a pained look. His chest expands deeply. His knuckles are practically white with how tight he’s now gripping the steering wheel. I’m not the only one affected by this little game we’re playing, and if he wanted to take my mind off this dinner; I’d say he’s hit a fucking grand slam.
I clear my throat, knowing exactly where the next question will lead, but I’m in so deep now, only an orgasm will take the edge off this ache that’s now built to explosive proportions in my loins. I think if I rub my thighs together in just the right way, I may detonate. “Sex or masturbation?”
“Fuck, Livvy. Fuck.” His jaw clenches, and I see his dick twitch. He barks his command without even looking at me. “Lose the skirt and panties. Now.”
I quickly pull up my maxi skirt to my waist, shimmying off my silky navy thong. Gray’s windows are tinted for privacy, so I’m not particularly worried about anyone seeing me. The thought that someone may only serves to heighten my arousal.
“Spread your legs, baby, so I can see and smell your desire for me.”
I turn in my seat, adjusting my seatbelt so it’s loose enough I can maneuver, and I prop one foot on the headrest of his seat and the other on the dash. I tilt my pelvis so I’m completely open to him.
When I’m finally positioned, as comfortably as you can in a moving vehicle, he looks over. The burn of his stare lights me on fire and I wonder if that alone can make me explode. Desire rolls off Gray in thick waves, filling the small space with potent pheromones. It’s intoxicating.
“Sweet Jesus, Livvy.” While I wait for his next command, he takes a hand off the wheel and runs a single finger through my wetness, rimming my puckered flesh. An involuntary moan escapes from deep inside me. “Always so wet for me,” he rasps, his voice heavy with lust.
Yes, I know. I feel my want running down between my cheeks, probably staining his leather seats. I can’t remember a time when I was as turned on as I am now, doing something so utterly wicked that I’m seriously trying to plan our next road trip.
I just about come when he sucks his finger clean. I desperately need to touch myself, so without waiting to hear what he wants next, my fingers swipe through my arousal, circling my clit. My eyes want to close, but I need to watch what I’m doing to him. I need to watch him come undone with me, even if we are hurtling down the interstate at seventy-five miles per hour.
“Fuck, Livvy. You are the hottest thing I have ever seen. Imagine it’s my tongue on you. In you,” he growls.
I swirl faster, pant harder and fight to prolong the pure hedonism of this moment, but I was so turned on before I started, my climax is barreling toward me faster than a freight train and after only moments, I’m almost ready to fly. Dirty words roll off Gray’s lips like a supplication, his eyes flitting between the road and my active fingers.
Suddenly we’re pulling off the side of I94. Gray shoves the car into park while undoing his seatbelt and slams my soaked sex to his greedy mouth. He groans, driving two fingers roughly inside me while sucking hard on my engorged clit. My legs tremble as hot waves of rapture take over my body, making me mindless. I cry out as his talented tongue works me to the edge and over again, devouring every drop of the multiple climaxes he’s managed to wring out of me in sixty seconds flat.
When my breath calms, and I can finally peel my eyes open, Gray is staring salaciously into them, a wicked smile on his face. Cars whiz by at fast speeds, our vehicle shaking slightly with each one. “Hi,” he says softly.
“Hi.” I can barely speak through my post-orgasmic, blissful haze. A place I never want to leave. It’s like a wonderland, only better.
“You’re fucking delicious. One taste just wasn’t enough.” He winks and places an open-mouthed kiss over my ink before sitting back in his seat. After redoing his seatbelt and adjusting his hardened dick, he pulls back out into traffic and we’re on our way once again. And I’m still lying in this exact same position, legs open wide, unable to move a single muscle, except for the one in my chest. That one is beating wildly with love for this man.
“Baby, you’d best cover up, because if we have to pull back over to the side of the road again, you’ll be riding my cock hard and, even with tinted windows, I think it will become pretty apparent to passersby what we’re doing. And I’d just as soon stay out of jail today because I have plans for you later.”
After I untangle my limbs and pull on my uncomfortably wet panties, I reach over, taking his hand in mine. My head still feels heavy, so I rest it comfortably against the seat, but turn toward him so I can drink in his beautiful profile. “I love you so much, Gray.” I’m so happy at this moment, I feel like crying and it’s difficult to hold all of the tumultuous emotions I’m feeling inside.
His eyes brim with love when he turns them to meet mine. Raising our entwined hands, soft lips graze mine and a few stray tears slip out when he says, “Not half as much as I love you, Livia.”
That’s simply not possible, I think. It’s not possible to love anyone as much as I love you.
Chapter 27
“Mom, we’re here,” Gray yells as he opens the front door, letting me in first. Well, he more like pushes me in because my feet refuse to move past the threshold. As we stand inside the entryway, with his hand on my lower back, memories assault me from every angle.
The smell of freshly baked bread fills my nostrils, making both my mouth and eyes water. A picture taken at Christmas the year before we were engaged of Gray and his brothers, with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, still sits on the thin, long maple table that lines the wall to my left. And Maxwell, the Colloway golden cockerdoodle, whose big chocolate eyes clearly house an old, reincarnated soul, sits patiently at my feet, waiting for my attention.
I kneel and scratch his belly, which he loves. “Hi, buddy. I missed you,” I choke, barely able to keep myself in check. I knew coming here would be difficult, but for very different reasons, like rejection and judgment. I just had no idea stepping foot in a house again that always overflowed with so much love would be this hard. Because the only time I ever felt such strong family love and unity was when I was in the Colloway home.
Barb rounding the corner with a dishtowel in her hand takes my attention away from Maxwell. I rise and she stops short. We stare at each other, but my vision of her is blurry. You know how you think you’re holding things together pretty well until you see that one certain person? And for some reason, seeing that one person not only cracks the dam inside of you, it shatters it into a million, unrepairable pieces?
When I laid eyes on Barb, my dam blew all to hell and suddenly I’m enveloped in her arms, sobbing. “Oh, sweet girl,” she keeps chanting, over and over, her motherly arms holding me tight. For all intents and purposes, Barb was like a mother to me, just like the rest of Gray’s family was my family too. When I lost Gray, I lost them. This house always felt like home to me, and stepping foot into it again, being unconditionally welcomed by Gray’s mother, brings back the same feeling of belonging and acceptance I always had before. And the relief is overwhelming.
“Come on,” she says, hooking her arm in mine, leading me to the bathroom. “Why don’t you gather yourself, freshen up and meet us in the kitchen. I just pulled some fresh banana bread from the oven.”
“Thanks, Barb,” I manage to say.
She’s at the door of the bathroom when she turns and says, “Livia, I don’t know what happened, and I’m not going to ask, but I want you to know that I’m here for you if you want to t
alk. Anytime. About anything, dear.”
I nod, a fresh mixture of grief and happiness spilling. For the first time ever, I want to confess. I want to tell another person, besides my shrink, what happened to me all those years ago. Why I disappeared. Why I stayed away. The need to purge without judgment or condemnation or even pity is overwhelming. This burden I carry is so heavy and debilitating, I constantly fight its pull into complete despondency. I want to talk about the baby that I lost. The baby I wanted so desperately, but can barely acknowledge anymore because the pain twists my guts raw. I want absolution from the woman standing in front of me for the pain I caused her and her family.
I don’t, though. I simply let her walk out and close the door softly behind her.
But, strangely, I feel relief. Because if I feel like I might be able to tell Barb, maybe that means someday I’ll be able to tell Gray.
Maybe I’m not giving Gray enough credit.
Maybe I should trust him with my secret.
Maybe he would understand.
Maybe he would forgive me.
Maybe I should tell him about our baby.
Maybe.
Chapter 28
It’s been ten minutes and Livvy’s still in the bathroom. Two more and I’m going after her. I knew it would be hard for her to see my mom again, because the two of them were very close, and I suddenly realize that I was so self-absorbed during these past few years about Livvy, not letting anyone ask questions or even mention her name, that I didn’t understand how much my mom has missed her too. My mom only has boys so Livvy was the closest thing to a daughter she ever had. Then one day she was just gone. I guess we all mourned Livvy, in a way, but I should have paid more attention to my mother’s feelings.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I say, gripping the counter I’m leaning against.
“Whatever for, Gray?” she responds. She’s like the Energizer Bunny in the kitchen, constantly cutting or mixing or cleaning. She never sits still. She never sits, period.
“For…” I don’t even know exactly how to say it. For being a self-absorbed ass? For never letting you grieve with me? For not comforting you when you also lost someone important?
But she knows what I’m trying to say and she lets me off the hook, laying a hand on my arm. “It was a difficult time for all of us Gray, and we all handle crisis differently. It’s okay.” She turns back to chopping onions and I push from the counter to check on my woman.
“I’ve worried about you, you know.”
“I know, Mom.”
“Do you?” she asks. She sets down the knife and turns toward me. “I don’t ever think I’ve witnessed a man break like you did when Livia left.”
“I know it was bad for a while, but I pulled out of it.”
She smiles sadly. “You pulled yourself out of the worst of it, you mean. You never pulled yourself out of it completely. You work yourself into the ground. You don’t date. I rarely see you smile.”
“What are you saying, Mom? That you don’t want me with Livia again?”
“No, Gray. That’s not at all what I’m saying. I love Livia like she was my own child. What I’m saying is that you look happy, son. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.” Only what I heard was “happier than before she left you” and it brought my mood elevator down a few floors.
“I am, Mom,” I say, hoping I sound convincing. Because it’s true. I am happy, but that little noxious cloud of doubt that I’ve been trying to shove into a fucking box and bury under two tons of steel, keeps slowly seeping out, poisoning my mind, undermining my confidence in us.
I’m almost to the door when it opens and Livvy walks out, eyes red from crying. And the second I set my sights on her, the cloud dissipates like it was never there. All feels right in my world once again. That’s what being in her presence does for me. It centers me. It keeps any uncertainty or misgivings I have about our future at bay. I want to wrap myself up in her and never let go. Hell, I want to climb inside of her and live there for the rest of my days.
Then her back is against the wall, her face in my hands and her lips on mine. Her body softens into me as her hands grip my waist. A quiet moan escapes between our fused mouths and I’m not sure if it came from her or me.
“Get a fucking room, for Christ’s sake.” My brother Conn’s voice penetrates the sexual mist that’s heavy around us. “Better yet, go to a hotel, because I certainly don’t need to hear the headboard banging or the springs squeaking or any fucking moaning coming from your room tonight, Gray.”
Pulling Livvy into my side, I turn to my brother, a shit-eating grin on my face. “Wear earplugs, then.”
He walks by us, mumbling something under his breath about not needing that visual.
The rest of the afternoon goes by smoothly. Livvy helps my mom in the kitchen, just like old times, and my brothers and I watch the Wolverines kick some Gopher ass while downing a few Coronas. This feels domesticated…and fucking amazing.
I don’t know a lot of men that truly crave, with their entire being, to be tied to a woman for the rest of their lives, but I do. I watch Livvy move around the kitchen in tandem with Mom, like she’s done it hundred times before, and I can imagine holidays and barbecues here. I can envision our children running around with their cousins and the house so full of noise and laughter that it will be hard to carry on a conversation. I want that. All of it.
I know we just reunited, and sometimes it feels like this secret she carries is the goddamn Grand Canyon between us, but Jesus, I want to ask her to marry me. Again. I don’t want to push her by moving too fast, but I don’t know how long I can hold off either. I just don’t want her to walk back out of my life.
Being engaged didn’t prevent that before. Fuck. That damn toxin is seeping back out and now it has a voice.
The doorbell rings, and now I’m restless, so I rise to answer. When I open the door, I see an absolutely stunning young woman standing in front of me, with long dark hair and big brown eyes. “Alyse, my you’ve grown up.” I grab her in a giant hug, twirling her around like I used to when she was younger. She’s laughing, but suddenly stops, and that’s when I notice the egghead still standing on the stoop with a scowl on his face and steroids dripping from his pores. I instantly don’t like him.
I set her down and extend my hand. “Gray Colloway.” He grips it and squeezes like he’s trying to crush every bone just to prove his manhood. I squeeze harder. Asshole.
“Finn.”
“Finn?” I can’t stop the sarcasm that drips thickly from my question. “Just Finn? Like, just Cher?”
He smiles smugly and I want to wipe the fucking floor with it. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone that irritates the shit out of me before they even speak, but the arrogance oozing off this punk is foul smelling and lethal. He’s bad news. And not nearly anywhere in the vicinity of being good enough for Alyse.
“Yes, just Finn.” Alyse winces when he pulls her to him and, so help me, I want to haul him out back and have him go three rounds with the Colloway brothers. Then we’ll see who’s smiling, fucker.
An hour later, Asher grabs another beer from the fridge and leans back against the counter. “What’s the deal with Popeye over there?” he asks, clearly talking about Finn. I haven’t missed the way Ash’s eyes have been running over Livvy’s sister… and neither has Finn.
The asshole won’t let her leave his side and constantly has a possessive arm or hand on her. It’s not lost on me that’s the way I react around Livvy, but this is different. While mine stems from deep, soul-wrenching love, his is just pure possessiveness. He has a beautiful woman on his arm and it pumps his ego to call her his girlfriend.
Guys like that are a dime a dozen, ladies. Kick their asses to the fucking curb because they are fouler than rotten garbage, and they will suck the very life out of your soul until you’re filled with doubt and self-loathing.
And Alyse…I can see she’s grown into a hell of a woman who deserves a lot more than what thi
s asshole has to offer. Which is nothing but heartache and possibly a few broken bones if she’s not careful.
“He’s a tool.” I don’t know what else to say about the douche. He’s currently “between jobs”, which means he’s a fucking loser who’s mooching off of a very successful and beautiful woman. Alyse graduated from college in just two and a half years and started her own auditing firm last year. And come to find out, Alyse’s specialty is forensic auditing, which promptly got Asher’s attention. I could see the gears clicking a hundred miles per hour in my brother’s head. He wants her.
“She’s not your type, Asher, so just forget whatever plan you’ve concocted in that little head of yours.” I emphasize little, so he knows I know exactly what he’s thinking. The last thing I need is for there to be tension between our families because Alyse is the only living blood relative Livvy has and she’ll be spending a lot of time with us. And Asher isn’t much better than Conn when it comes to running through women at lightening speed. Talk about an awkward family dinner.
I take a swallow of my own beer and turn my gaze on Livvy, who’s sitting next to Alyse in deep conversation. She’s so damn beautiful it hurts to look at her. I realize that I’m completely whipped, but I don’t give a flying fuck. If I could live inside her pussy and never come up for air, I would.
“Did you see that bruise on Alyse’s arm?” Ash asks on a low growl.
Yes. Yes, I did. And it’s eerily in the shape of a couple of thick male fingers. I bet if we put Finn’s up to them, we’d find a perfect match.
“Yeah. Come on, let’s get back.” I plan on squeezing my way onto the already full couch, even if I have to pull Livvy onto my lap. I just need her as close to me as possible.
It’s okay, I own my caveman tendencies.