by Ava Claire
The word ‘again’ tickled my subconscious, but the rest consumed me. We hadn’t said those three words out loud, but I felt them, just as sure as I was breathing.
He loved me. And as terrifying as it was to admit, I loved him too.
I gazed up at him, vibrating with desire as I parted my lips. “Make love to me, Cade.”
He scooped me into his arms, breezing to my bedroom. I put my head against his chest, feeling the racing stomp of his heart.
My lights were dimmed, but his eyes glowed as he touched me. His fingers rounded my buttons. He peeled off the first layer, and a sigh of content dropped in time with my blouse. It was one of my ratty, faded bras, but he gazed at me like I was devastatingly gorgeous.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
I reached my arms around and unhooked my bra. My petite breasts were free, and the heat in his gaze pebbled my peaks. He took them in his massive hands, his touch warm as he massaged them. My core wanted more of him, all of him, so I went for his fly, pulling down the zipper. My eyes widened at his massive cock, a spark of fear flashing through me. It would hurt so good to have him inside me.
He pulled me in for another kiss, but I rounded it off with a moan, pulling him toward my bed. I crawled onto it, throwing him a “come hither” over my shoulder as I spun onto my back. For all of his talk about taking his time, he sheathed his cock with a condom in record time, the impressive length steady in his hand.
I spread my legs wide. My pulse quickened when the mattress shifted as he mounted it. He towered above me, his face awash with need and an adoration that ripped my breath from my lungs. I was the one that took my time now. My gaze traced the strong line of his jaw. The curve of his lips. The glistening locks of his blond hair. I trailed down his muscular chest, down to the tight squares of his abs. I lingered on his cock, biting down on my bottom lip.
He moved between my legs, and I grit my teeth as he slowly pushed inside me. My body worked to stretch and morph, but I felt as gangly as I had my very first time. Pain made me hiss in pain, and I blushed in a decidedly un-sexy way.
“Look at me, Megan.”
I brought my eyes to his and drew a shuddering breath. My core banded around him, clasping him tight. I saw the battle to restrain himself whip across his face. It was in the way he gripped the covers; the whispered profanity as he rolled his hips, bathing in my wetness. But he put my needs first, waiting until my body was liquid and fluid to pick up a rhythm. His eyes never left mine.
I arched into him, rising to meet his thrusts. Pleasure took over me, and I surrendered to it, wrapping my legs around him. I knew how close I was. I was on the cusp of it. My need to climax consumed me.
“Megan.”
He whispered my name, and I tumbled into the arms of bliss. He caught me, our bodies releasing in near unison. He pulsed into my warmth, and I raked my nails down his back as I melted around him. He dropped his head into the nape of my neck, growling against my skin. He traced my jaw with his mouth, whispering on my flesh until our lips met.
I knew he’d said this wasn’t some romance novel, but I felt a communion with those women that fell hopelessly for the hero. Letting him possess them body and soul, then realizing everything from the start had led them to this moment of pleasure. Whether I wanted to face it was irrelevant. Cade had a hold on me...and I never wanted him to let go.
He dropped onto the beside me, his breathing still erratic. “C’mere.” It wasn’t a request since he pulled me toward him, wrapping me in his warm embrace.
Lying there with him, sticky with sweat, I felt happy. Hopeful. The words just fell out.
“I love you, Cade.”
His body stiffened to stone, like I’d just uttered the most terrible thing he’d ever heard.
I launched from the bed, yanking the cover with me. Covering my body in horror, like he hadn’t just seen all of me. Been inside me.
He blinked rapidly, his body loosening as he pulled himself up on his elbows. “Megan, I—”
“No!” I interrupted, my face red with shame. “Don’t say it back out of guilt!”
“It’s not guilt,” he insisted, climbing out of bed.
He stood before me like some perfect vision brought to life. I thought the glistening, perfectly defined body I’d ogled on the big screen was just special effects, but he was really as beautiful as he seemed. And I hated that I wanted him, even after he’d made a fool out of me.
Just like the others...
“Megan, just let me—”
“Get out,” I said hoarsely, clutching the covers like a life raft. The only thing keeping me from drowning.
He took a step toward me. “Wait a mi—”
“Stay away from me!” I shrieked, tears burning as they lashed down my cheeks. “Just get out!”
His face was devastated as he yanked on his clothing, piece by piece. He stopped at the door, making a last ditch effort.
“I’m not gonna leave like this.” The confidence of his statement dimmed. “Please don’t make me leave like this. Not after what we just shared.”
I swatted my cheeks, glowering at him. How could I have been so stupid?
“There’s no reason for you to stay. I was the fool that thought that we...that I...” I covered my face, sobs wracking my body. “Just go, Cade.”
I waited until the door clicked shut, then utterly fell apart.
Chapter Thirteen
Cade
I glared at my reflection. “You screwed up, asshole.”
‘Screwed up’ didn’t cut it. After finally, really kissing her, being with her, I’d destroyed everything. And why? I felt the same way. I knew I loved her the minute she’d bit her lip and blushed before she said fuck. But that wasn’t really true, was it? I loved her long before that. I loved her when I saw her at the front of the class, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. Or maybe it was at the premiere, when I cornered her outside the bathroom and saw someone just like me. Someone terrified of love.
So when she told me she loved me, it took me by surprise. Even after what we shared, what I knew was real, down to my very bones, there was still a part of me that didn’t believe I deserved to be loved. Not by Megan. Not by anyone.
Not after Sophia.
I splashed water on my face, but the cool brush of it didn’t lower my agitation. You shouldn’t have left. If you could have just explained—
“Yeah right,” I said aloud with a harrumph. I was pretty sure any mention of my past or my first wife would have just confirmed Megan’s suspicions that I was a bad guy. She probably would have called the cops. Filed a restraining order and washed her hands of me completely. That would have made some killer press for the movie. ‘Actor Cade Wallace Stalks Inner City School Teacher’.
I shut off the water and flung droplets from my fingertips. Right now, I could care less about publicity, and my career was a close second. Megan occupied my mind. Her perfect, porcelain skin lying before me. Her body clutching mine so tightly when I was inside her. Her eyes on me. Trusting me.
And in a moment, a heartbeat, I betrayed that trust.
I left the bathroom, wishing somehow I could leave the heaviness in my chest behind. The knot in my throat that wouldn’t go away.
I stole a look at the minibar. I might not be able to make it go away, but I could dull it.
My phone screeched to life on my bed, and I snarled at it. I knew it was Lisa without even looking at it. She’d been blowing it up for the past hour. I could ignore it, but she’d send the hotel staff to my room if I didn’t answer.
I yanked it to my ear. “What?”
“What?” I pictured her scowling. “How about a ‘hi, how are you?’ Or a, ‘thanks for being the awesomest assistant ever’.”
I gripped the phone, the slice of pain calming me. I drew a breath, then answered measuredly, “Be glad I answered at all, Lisa.”
She sniffed, like she was picking up the scent of disaster. “What happened? You sound weird.”
I thought I’d done a good job sounding generally annoyed, but she’d heard the red flags I’d missed.
“I’m fine.” I cleared my throat. “I’m just a little tired.”
“Oh, really?” she purred, holding the Y. “I take it your apology was accepted?”
“Yes.” Not the whole truth. Well, my apology was accepted, and then I screwed up even bigger than before. Not screwed up. Epically destroyed.
“Yeah?” she repeated incredulously. “I want the scoop! You’ve gotta do a hell of a lot better than ‘yeah’!”
No way was I going to rehash this with Lisa so she could remind me of just how stupid I was for not saying I love you back. “Was there something you needed?”
“Since when don’t you kiss and tell?” Lisa whined. When I gave her the silent treatment, she conceded with a sigh. “All right. I was just calling to remind you that Missy is swinging by with some things for your interview tomorrow.”
I groaned, in part because the last thing I wanted was to think about how I had to get up several hours before the crack of dawn, pretend I was sociable. The rest was because the last thing I wanted to do was grin and bear it with Missy.
“I know, I know,” Lisa said sympathetically. “She’ll be in and out, I’m sure. And you can go back to doing whatever you were doing instead of telling your best friend all the juicy details about what happened with Megan.”
“Best friend?” I repeated with a raised eyebrow. It eased back down when I thought about it. What was a best friend? Someone that knew your secrets, and you knew theirs? The person who rooted for your successes and brought the booze when shit fell apart, right? A confidante...a rock. There was no one else that fit that bill better than Lisa. If I was ever ready to talk about Megan, she was the person I’d want to share it with. “I guess you are my best friend, huh?”
The line went quiet, and I looked at the screen. When I brought the phone back to my ear, I heard something that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle.
“Don’t go getting all mushy on me now,” Lisa said sternly, even though she sounded like she was in dire need of a Kleenex.
Two knocks rapped at my door, and we hung up, after I promised I’d consider telling her what happened. I didn’t bother with the peephole and just jerked open the door. I’d expected Missy to toss the bag at me and storm back the way she came, but she stood in front of the door with a pleasant smile on her face.
I frowned as I took her in. She wore her dark hair down, the bone straight locks spilling nearly to her waist in soft layers. She’d traded her usual business uniform for a blood red V-neck T-shirt and oversized jeans. Her face was scrubbed of makeup, and nude flats had replaced the cold, black stilettos that were her norm.
She copied my frown. “Is everything...” She trailed off, picking up on the source of my surprise. She almost blushed before she shrugged a shoulder. “Sorry I’m dressed down. Had some stuff to do around the house, and I wanted to run this over for tomorrow.” She held out the garment bag.
“Thanks.” I took it and held the door for her. “And don’t apologize. You should dress down more often.”
She didn’t catch the warmth before it invaded her cheeks, and I kicked myself. That was definitely flirty, wasn’t it? I hadn’t even realized it until it was too late to clamp a hand over my mouth.
She stepped into my suite, scanning the room with a hefty dose of shock on her face. “It’s a lot neater in here than I thought it would be.” She stole a peek in my direction. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I said with a wink, another kick landing. No winks, no compliments! “It’s uh, a throwback from my military days, I guess.” One of the many things that were drilled into me at boot camp and beyond. I spied my jacket in a wrinkled heap on the floor, my boots slumped on their sides where I’d left them when I stormed in. Sarge would have a few choice words if he saw that, but he could just deal.
“You never talk about your service,” Missy said, leaning against the wall. “I think the audience would really relate—”
“No,” I said curtly. She brought this up before, and my answer was still no.
“Why not?” she probed, her big, brown eyes studying me like some specimen in a lab.
I dodged her gaze, striding to the closet. “I just don’t go there. Ever.”
“Just like my dad,” she murmured with a bitter chuckle.
I hung the bag with mechanical movements and pivoted back to her, curiosity getting the better of me. “Your dad was in the military?”
“Marines,” she nodded. “If it wasn’t for common knowledge of what conflict fell around my dad’s generation, I never would have known where he served. He was given a medal and everything, but he locked away that time of his life. Whenever I brought it up, he told me that he did things he wasn’t proud of to survive.” Missy pushed off the wall, then took two hesitant steps in my direction. “Is that why you won’t talk about it?” Her face softened, the dim light turning her strong features delicate. “Did you do things you’re ashamed of, Cade?”
I clenched my jaw. “I don’t want to talk about it, Missy.” I remembered the alcohol. I’d use it as an excuse to get some distance and change the subject. “You want something to drink?” I looked down, her hand on my arm.
“I’m sure you did what you had to do,” she breathed softly. Her eyes set on me, so sure of that fact that I nearly believed her. “Anyone that says otherwise is an idiot. Men like you are the reason people here get to complain in the first place.”
Something in me whispered that I didn’t deserve her gratitude. The only medal I earned was Private First Class Douche. Or, G.I. Most Likely To Screw Anything Female That Moved. But there was something hypnotic about her eyes. It called to the part of me that wanted to believe that I had joined the army for selfless reasons, and not just to escape my small town and see the world.
I licked my lips, not breaking the trance, even though I needed to disconnect. “Never would have pegged you for patriotic, Miss Diaz.”
“Oh, there’s lots of things you don’t know about me, Mr. Wallace.” When had she gotten so close?There was a hairsbreadth between us. I practically saw the gears shift in her head. She reached out, fingertips skating my arm.
Under different circumstances, her aggressiveness would have been a turn-on, but there was only one woman I wanted to be this close to. “Missy—”
She pressed a finger against my lips, and gazed at my mouth and in a split second, she thrusted her lips against mine.
Cinnamon and ivory soap flooded my nostrils, and a sense of unfathomable loss gutted me. I missed Megan’s smell, the warm, lush fruitiness of her perfume. Her lips. Her...everything.
Missy staggered backwards, embarrassment darkening her face. “Oh God. Cade—that wasn’t—I shouldn’t have—”
“You’re great, Missy,” I said, trying to make her feel better about the stolen kiss. “But I’m seeing someone.” Not exactly true, but there was no mistaking how wrong it felt to be that close to someone else.
Her eyes dropped to the floor, her whole body slumping. “I’m so sorry.”
My lips stretched into an uncomfortable smile. “Don’t worry about it.” I faked it when she looked up at me. “Really.” She didn’t look entirely convinced, and things had gotten unbearably awkward, so I changed the subject. “So I got the outfit. See you at the studio in the morning?”
“Right!” She leapt on the subject change. “Have a good night.”
She fled the room, and I closed the door behind her, leaning my forehead against it. I yanked back when a flurry of knocks erupted on the wood. I opened it an inch, not surprised when Missy dark eyes were looking back at me. Eyes that were wide with shame.
“If we could just not talk about that, ever—”
“It’s forgotten,” I assured her with a nod.
I expected relief to flash in her eyes, but something else darkened her gaze. I had no interest in deciphering it, and said goodbye for a s
econd time and shut the door.
I pressed my back against the wooden frame, bringing my fingers to my lips. Megan was the only woman I wanted to kiss.
And she didn’t even want to see my face.
Chapter Fourteen
Megan
I clutched my sign tight. My legs were filled with lead, my heart stammering in my chest. Everyone in the city knew to avoid the block I was headed to from the hours of 3AM-11AM, unless you enjoyed parking lots and squeals of those clamoring for a look at whoever was on ‘Morning 365. I walked toward the massive huddle of people, and with every step, the voice of reason tried to turn me around.
What the eff are you doing? It’s bad enough that you faked an illness. It was my first sick day all year. The last time I got close was a bad case of food poisoning, but I soldiered on, somehow managing to get through the school day with only two trips to the bathroom to flush the bad Indian from my system. Principal Patterson hadn’t even hesitated when I called off, more shocked than wary of the request.
I glanced down at my trembling hands, the fluorescent poster paper in my grip rattling. In big, Sharpie black letters were two words: I’m sorry.
Sorry for what? For putting your guard down, saying you loved him, then getting crickets as the reply? Hurt pricked my chest, the needle points refreshing my memory. I’d been so sure that we shared something special; more than just our bodies; our very souls. I’d been so sure he’d say it back. Sometime later, after I put aside the wine and dried my, I’d gone back over what happened. He’d stiffened when I said it, and I’d leapt from the bed, mortified. My defenses had shot back up, sure that he didn’t feel the same. But in that brief moment before I kicked him out, I’d seen it, lighting up the green hues in his eyes.
Hope.