Bare Assets

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Bare Assets Page 14

by M. L. Stephens


  "She was understandably shaken. I'm surprised she hasn't already called to ream you a new ass for not being the one to break the news."

  "How long ago did you tell her?"

  "About thirty minutes ago. Once she realized I was serious and accepted the truth, she went to her room. I haven't seen her as visibly shaken since you lost your mom. When she left the room, Dean and I exchanged a few choice words. Afterwards, he went to check on her and I'm assuming that's where he is now."

  "You didn't leave her alone in the house with him did you?"

  "Just shy of barging into her room and plopping down on the bed between them, there's not a whole lot I can do at this point, but no. I haven't left the house. I came out to the truck to call you. I don't trust him. If you had seen the murderous intent in his eyes when we had our verbal exchange, you would understand why I feel the way I do."

  "Any word on the cause of the fire yet?"

  "Nothing yet," Cutter replied.

  "For her sake, I hope the new boyfriend is innocent. For your sake, I hope you can figure out a way to make her understand why you did the things you did six years ago. I would love for the two of you to work things out while I can still appreciate seeing you together. Whether that happens or not, I can't go to my grave knowing that she's still living in Dallas and working in a risky industry.

  When I see mom and dad on the other side, I want to be able to say that I did everything possible to protect her. I always thought she'd grow out of this city phase and come back home. It doesn't look as if that's going to happen. Not without major persuasion."

  "Listen, Buddy. I think you should call her. Tell her about the cancer and about the farm. She needs to know everything. If the doctors are right, and for some God forsaken reason you don't pull through this, you'll be leaving Carla in a world of shit. Don't go out like that, man. You're up to your eyeballs in debt and barely hanging on to the homestead. Maybe Angie can help."

  "You're right," he sighed. "There's no way Carla can carry the mortgage on the farm along with the medical bills I've racked up once I'm gone. I'm just not sure Angie has the financial means to help, and if she did have the means before the fire, I can't imagine she'd have them now. Fire repairs can't be cheap."

  "You won't know if you don't ask. Angie's smart. I'm sure she had plenty of insurance on the place to cover her losses," Cutter replied. "Give her the option of making the decision for herself. Dead or alive, Angie will hate you if you lose the farm. That's the only thing the two of you have left of your parents. If she loses you, it will be the only thing she has left period." After the diagnosis, it had taken many months and dozens of cases of beer, but the two of them had finally hashed out their concerns and regrets until they had reached a place of acceptance. Buddy was dying and they had decided not to pussy foot around the topic. There was too little time and too much to accomplish for it to play out differently.

  "If she doesn't call me tonight, I'll call her first thing in the morning. I think my baby sister has had enough thrown her direction for one day."

  She's had enough thrown her direction for a lifetime, he thought but didn't say. He, in fact, was the source of much of her despair, but in the back of his mind he had convinced himself that a little temporary despair would result in a future that would somehow make his past sins less horrendous.

  *********

  "There's nothing I can say to erase the sorrow surrounding the news of your brother. I do want you to know that I'm here for you if you want to talk about it." Dean sat down next to her on the bed, draping an arm over her shoulder. Seeing her continual personal struggle was tugging at the empathetic cords of his heart. He wanted to wrap her in the protective circle of his arms and hold her hostage until life gently settled back to normal. That however, wasn't a realistic option.

  "Thanks," she sniffed, fingering her tears away. Grateful for his strong, supportive presence, she leaned against him, allowing him to stroke her only as a close friend or significant other would. Only she hadn't had a close friend or a significant other since Becky and Cutter had ripped her life apart and her mom had died. As things stood, Dean was the closest she had to either one of those.

  "I'm sorry about all of this," she said.

  Leaning back, he studied her face. "Why are you apologizing?"

  "My life isn't normally this dramatic," she confessed through red rimmed eyes. For six long years it's been quiet and drama free, then Cutter shows up and bam. It's been one emergency after another."

  "I showed up around the same time. Do you think perhaps I'm the one who brought the drama?"

  "Absolutely not! If anything, you've been my rock through all of this. I'm embarrassed that you had to witness Cutter's outburst. He's not usually so difficult to deal with. Under different circumstances, I think the two of you could have gotten along."

  "Who knows? We might have. For now though, I'm not interested in entertaining any more of your exes."

  Chuckling through the tears, she planted a quick peck to his cheek. "You have the uncanny ability to turn my darkest hours into tolerable ones, Mr. Murray."

  "Glad I could help," he replied solemnly.

  Needing a distraction from her own misery and wanting to know more about the man who had abruptly turned her jaded heart to mush, she attacked the elephant in the room head on. "You are handling my drama pretty well for a man who claims he hasn't been with a woman in over two years. How is that?"

  "You've had a long day already. It can wait until tomorrow," he suggested. Angela had been through enough for one day. He had planned on sharing his personal story with her, but not like this. Not after she had just learned about her brother's tumor.

  Sliding off the bed, Angela went to her knees, positioning herself between his legs as she searched his face for answers. Taking his hands in hers, she forgot her inhibitions and put her heart on the line. "I want to know about you, Dean. Please let me in. Share with me."

  Moving his hands from hers, he tenderly ran his fingers over her forehead until reaching her stray locks of hair. Securing them behind her ears, he studied each line of her face. Penetrating hazel eyes pierced into his soul, silently pleading for him to open up as they glanced into the center of his essence. High cheekbones and plump lips begged to be caressed and kissed.

  The woman who had single-handedly forged one of the most reputable gentlemen's clubs in the Dallas area was humbling herself to him in a way that only one other woman had ever done. Beneath the hardened exterior of the business woman was a loving spirit petitioning him to set her free of the heartbroken prison which had held her hostage.

  "You are an angel," he whispered.

  "There are plenty who would disagree," she quirked. A slight smile curved her lips as she looked up at the man who had swiftly, yet lovingly reached into the crux of a shielded heart and was tenderly restoring the fragmented pieces of her shattered past.

  "Then they aren't worthy of knowing you," he stated.

  "Are you attempting to change the subject?" she poked.

  "On the contrary, I want you to realize how amazing you are." As he affectionately cupped his hand against her cheek, she leaned into it, never tearing her gaze from his.

  "From the moment I laid eyes upon you, I knew you were special. I couldn't have predicted the impact you would have on my life, but you have had a percussive effect on me, Angela. You've turned my world upside down in ways that you couldn't possibly imagine." Pulling her up from the floor, he guided her to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. As they faced one another, he released a sigh of absolution and began sharing the story of the love he had lost, his struggle to survive that loss and how an incredible strip club owner had unknowingly rekindled the aspirations of a broken man.

  As Dean began to peel back the layers of a tormented past to reveal his most guarded truth, Angela Fletcher—aka Angie, aka Ang—felt the first of cupid's arrows breach the wall around a heart she believed to be impenetrable. In less than a week, this debonair stranger ha
d removed the nails from her heart's coffin and was beginning to pump life-altering sensations into an organ that had been emotionally untouched since the day she had driven it out of Arkansas.

  Chapter 15

  "Meet my other lover." ~ Angela

  Lips of an angel brushed against his as she wiped away the tears of his distress with heartfelt kisses. The watery sorrow she genuinely felt over his loss rolled unashamedly down her cheeks, mingling freely with the drops falling down his. Compassionate kisses quickly turned to hungry desire as their walls came tumbling down.

  As his tongue explored the depths of her mouth with eager intent, a desolate man found himself wanting to crawl inside of a woman's body to nestle within the goodness of her soul. Though it was impossible for two beings to physically fuse into one, he had the irresistible need to do just that.

  In a spell-binding moment of shared forgiveness and acceptance, the thought of blending his heart to hers as she lovingly gifted him what had been protectively guarded for so many years was all consuming. He wanted to possess her in every imaginable way. He was a man determined to bring this woman to the doors of ecstasy and then calmly lay her down in a bed of sated acceptance and desire.

  It had taken an extraordinary person to break through the steely walls he had so carefully engineered, but for the first time since his tragic loss, he was on the verge of being completely undone. The need to break through the same steely barriers she had so diligently erected around her own heart had suddenly become an irreversible goal. He had to have her regardless of the cost and was bound and determined to possess her heart, body and soul.

  Without hesitation, she lifted her arms and allowed him to remove her tee. Standing up, their hands danced feverishly to undress the other. As their clothes were discarded into a heap of forgotten worries, he leaned down and said the words he thought never again to say. "I want to feel myself inside of you, Angela." The sultriness of his voice stroked her skin with heated desire.

  Rather than answer, she pulled him to the bed and claimed his mouth with urgency. She knew his story. He hadn't been with a woman since his wife and she had only had unprotected sex with one other man. She wanted to feel the heated fury of his manhood buried deep within her core. She wanted him to possess her with a sizzling passion unlike any she had ever known.

  Rolling her nipples between his fingers, he gingerly tugged at them until they were rigid and tight. Moving his mouth to her breasts, he suckled them as if life sustaining water lay just beneath their fleshy mounds. With newly practiced precision, his fingers slid inside her slick folds while his thumb massaged the sensitive bud at the entrance of her passion fruit.

  Her hands tangled in his hair as she moved her hips up and down, matching the rhythm of his fingers as they glided in and out. With knees bent, she offered up her all. Unable to resist, he dove head first into his this new heaven on Earth. As he flicked his tongue against her apex, she convulsed with ecstasy and once again he tasted what had to be the sweetest nectar to have ever crossed his lips. After he was satisfied that she had relinquished the last drop of her orgasm, he lifted his head, placing kisses along her torso as he made his way back up to her.

  With the sticky ambrosia lingering on his tongue, he thrust it into her mouth. The moan that vibrated in her throat almost pushed him over the top. He wanted this moment to last, but if he took her now, he would not be able to control the lava threatening to burst forth. As their tongues continued to dance to the sultry tango of their fanatical passion, he shifted to her side, and lowered her hand to the throbbing rod protruding from his groin.

  Using the moisture escaping from the tip of his erection, she tugged at the core of his lust with long, exaggerated movements. As the moan of release simultaneously escaped from both his mouth and his staff of manly goodness, she inwardly smiled. His bliss was hers.

  Without taking his mouth from hers, he shifted his body so that he was positioned over her but she quickly pushed at his chest and swiveled them around until she was straddling his hips. Leaning down to kiss his chest, she positioned his manhood so that only the tip rested in the space between her legs. The tiny, teasing strokes were erotically stimulating her beyond control. Moaning with need, she crushed her lips to his and lowered her body until he was fully immersed within her cavern of sin.

  He growled into her mouth, but she swallowed his word. "Angela."

  Increasing the motion of her hips, she ended their kiss and sat erect, thrusting against him until her insides threatened to rip apart from intensity of her labor. He pulled at her nipples just enough that they tingled with the perfect amount of acceptable pain.

  "Do you like that?" he asked.

  The sensual question rippled down her back. "Yes," she whimpered.

  He pulled a little harder. "How about that?"

  He was sending her barreling head first into an incoming hurricane of orgasmic bliss but she forced herself to answer. "Yes," she mumbled between pants. He had found her pleasure point.

  Leaving one hand to tug at her nipple, he moved the other hand between her legs. As she rode him as if he were a bucking bronco, he applied pressure to her apex with his thumb and massaged. Her eyes rolled back into her head as her female orifice tightened around his rock hard member.

  "Oh. My. God." The words resounded throughout the room as her body quivered with release. Spent, she slowed her movements and collapsed on his chest, the sweaty sheen of their bodies was a welcome remnant against her skin.

  "That was amazing," she breathed as she lifted her face to his and planted a brief kiss to his lips.

  "Was amazing? We're not done yet, my love," he said, grabbed her by the hips. In one swift motion her back met the mattress. Quickly positioning himself above her, his thickened shaft dove into her nest of warm, sticky-sweet ambrosia.

  As he slowly and purposefully plunged into her depths, the image of Aubrey which had always stayed at the forefront of his mind slowly began to fade until finally, it disappeared. She had been his former life. Angela was his present and he would do whatever it took to make sure she became a part of his future.

  "Cum with me, Angela," he purred.

  "Yes," she moaned. Grabbing his ass, she drove him deeper inside as she met him thrust for thrust.

  As they reached the pinnacle of ecstasy, he roared out her name while filling her with his seedy lava. The volcanic explosion of carnal lust, past acceptance and future promises brought a new round of tears to his eyes.

  As he collapsed on top of her and caught his breath, he reluctantly rolled to her side. Propping himself on one elbow, he lovingly wiped the sheen from her brow. "Why are you crying?" he asked, worried that he had hurt her.

  "Perhaps for the same reason that you are," she smiled.

  Chuckling, he studied her face a moment longer before capturing her mouth in a long, affectionate kiss.

  As he lifted his head, she giggled. "What's so funny," he asked.

  "That was fucking amazing!"

  Her genuine exuberance was contagious. "I would have called it epically awesome, but yeah. I have to agree," he grinned. The afterglow of their lovemaking made her seem even more beautiful than before.

  "Actually," she said, placing a finger to her chin as if contemplating her original assessment of their conjugal act. "You might be right. It might have been epically awesome rather than amazing. I think I'll need a do over before I can decide for sure."

  "I might be able to be coerced into helping you decide," he teased.

  Flipping to her side, she pushed him to his back and straddled him again. This time, she had something else in mind.

  "You might?" she inquired with raised brow. Taking a chance that he might be ticklish, she friskily attacked his rib cage, causing him to buckle with laughter. The harmonious sound of his easy laughter spread through the room, erasing the last shred of doubts she might have harbored against beginning a relationship. She wanted to hear that sound every day and she wanted more of what he had given her just min
utes before. She wanted to wake up next to him and sit with him in her kitchen while they shared cups of coffee. She wanted to cry on his shoulder and help him remember his past love while giving him new love.

  The love she had shared with Cutter had been innocent and sweet. What she had with Dean promised to be those things and more. Only time would tell how things turned out, but right now she was willing to take a chance.

  She halted the tickle fest and gazed at him with open trust. "Are we officially a couple or just friends with benefits? Either way I'm fine with it, but I want to know where this is or isn't going before I become fully vested for the wrong reasons."

  Lifting his hands to her face, he tucked the ever disobedient locks of hair behind her ears and matched her vulnerable gaze with his own.

  "I knew from the first time I saw you that you were different. I wasn't wrong. I've opened my heart to you, Angela Fletcher. You mean more to me than just a toss between the sheets. Hell, if I'd wanted that, I'm sure I wouldn't have waited nearly three years to do it. Instead, I waited for you.

  I know we can't predict our future, but I want a chance at making one with you. I don't want to see other women and I hope after our epic session, that you don't want other men. I guess the real question is, am I enough for you?"

  Smiling, she hopped off of him and moved to her normal side of the bed. With a mischievous grin, she pretended to ponder his question.

  "Since we're being totally honest with one another, I do suppose I should share a deep, dark secret. I have had a secret lover for years. I've never introduced him to anyone and I don't talk about him so no one knows. He only comes when I call and he's very discreet."

  His lips turned down but otherwise, he fought to keep his cool while patiently waiting for her to continue. "Would you like to meet him?" she tentatively asked.

 

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