Healing You

by Katana Collins

  “You don’t play fair,” Steve whispered back. But in that playfulness, there was a moment of intensity. The heat in her gaze, the way he felt his pulse kick up as her lips lifted into a smile. What he felt for her just then was so powerful that it hurt. This is too fast, he thought. He was falling too hard and too fast for her—again. Just like in high school.

  A wary look passed across her face as though she could read the change of thoughts within his expression. “Steve—”

  He dropped his mouth to hers, taking her lips in a deep kiss to silence the wavering thoughts in both their minds. She opened her mouth for him and he licked inside, curving his tongue against hers. Everything about her turned him on—from the way she looked, to her sense of humor, to her beautiful spirit and love of animals. He let his body drop over hers and her tightened nipples brushed against his, her breasts and hips and skin all soft, smooth curves in contrast to the tightness he felt in his.

  “You first,” Steve murmured, moving lower until his nose was at her navel. He nipped the tender skin at the junction of her hip and thigh, soothing the sting with a soft kiss before continuing lower. She fisted her hands into his hair, her back arching with a soft cry. A violent shiver of arousal rocked through his body and when he finally moved between her legs, he inhaled deeply, smelling just how much she wanted him as well. He flicked out a tongue, running it up her slick slit. Her body bucked, arching off the bed with a whimper. Holy shit, she was creamy and sweet, just like he remembered. While normally, he loved taking his time, building up with slow, long licks to savor her taste, he was too greedy for that this morning. Instead, he buried his face in her cleft, seemingly taking her by surprise. She yelped and writhed beneath him, those hands diving into his hair once more. He growled, taking her wrists and pinning them onto the bed beside him. Pushing his tongue deeper inside of her, he licked, parting the soft folds and exploring her, discovering her most sensitive spots. She wordlessly pleaded for more, writhing against his face.

  He pulled back, sucking her swollen clit into his mouth before continuing in rapid licks. “Yes,” she cried. “I’m gonna come.” Steve followed her commands, flattening his tongue against her clit and rubbing in practiced circles.

  Her legs tightened, straightening beneath him. Releasing her hands, he thrust his tongue inside of her, continuing to stroke her clit with his fingers as she came. Her sex rippled around his tongue, shivering with the penetration. He felt her free hand wrap around the back of his head, pulling him deeper inside of her. As the spasms slowed, Steve pulled back, blowing warm breath over her wet flesh before he lifted his gaze to hers once more. He expected her attention to be on the ceiling, or eyes closed, relishing in her orgasm. But instead, those hazel eyes were riveted directly onto his, her pupils so dilated that they nearly looked black. Steve felt his lips kick up into a smile.

  He rolled onto his back and barely had time to catch his breath before Yvonne was on top of him, their lips clashing, moving over each other’s, needy and wet. He drank her in like a man who’d been lost in the desert without water for far too many days. Her hands went to his chest, squeezing the muscles, and any blood he had left in his body descended between his legs. He sat up, scooping his hands into her hair and kissed down her jaw to suck at the tender flesh of her neck. Based on the sounds vibrating in her throat—she approved. She straddled him, squeezing his body between her muscled legs. Steve’s hands landed there, smoothing his way up to where she was drenched, hovering over his erection before carefully sliding her body down until her mouth was lined up with his head. Desire and frustration coursed through his body. He’d dreamed about her in his bed for years and now? It didn’t feel real. She didn’t feel real.

  Her mouth parted, wrapping her lips around his head, and he hissed in pure, agonizing pleasure as she slid him into her mouth. Her fingertips were like silk, the lightest touch traipsing down his abdomen. He arched into her, careful not to push too deeply into her mouth. But before he could pull back, her hands grasped his ass, driving him deeper until he felt the warm, wet flesh at the back of her throat. His cock jerked, tightening even more hot and fierce than before, and his balls ached for release.

  Those stormy eyes of hers lifted to his, her dark lashes casting a fanned shadow down over her cheeks. She pulled him slowly out of her mouth, scraping her tongue firmly against the underside of his shaft as a rebellious smile curved her lips. She pumped him a few times in her hand before swiping that devilish tongue across the bead of pre-cum emerging from his tip. It was so good. So damned good. And before he had a moment to think about how incredible she felt, she once again sucked him deeply into her mouth. Her lips encompassed the blazing ache in his dick while her wicked little tongue sent liquid flames surging through his body. Her swollen breasts and peaked nipples brushed the tops of his thighs as she bent to suck him. Her teeth raked over his throbbing shaft and her fingers tightened around the base of his tortured flesh, sending another burst of heat that had him groaning her name through gritted teeth.

  “Eve,” was all he could manage to say and his voice was so hoarse, it surprised even Steve.

  Her husky chuckle sent a tortuous warm breath over him as she began sucked him with each gliding stroke of her tongue, allowing her to take him even deeper—if that were even fucking possible. “Unless you want this to end right now, you’d best stop,” he managed to say, his hands scooping into her hair and brushing it over to one shoulder. She gave one more deep suck, compressing his length between the roof of her mouth and tongue. “Yvonne!” he shouted just as she jerked back. He didn’t wait for her to sit up fully. Reaching over, he yanked a condom from his nightstand, ripped it with his teeth and slid it over his erection.

  His hands gripped her hips as she sank down onto him. She was so tight. Tight and wet for him. For a moment, neither of them moved. Up until that second, it had been frenetic and writhing, but for just a moment, he relished in this stillness of her body surrounding him. She was tight, her pink lips wet and swollen and through the condom, Steve could feel the tissue stretching around his intensely hard cock.

  “Steve,” she whispered his name like a prayer, her head lobbing back toward the ceiling, eyes fluttering closed. With his hands still gripping her hips, he guided her over him in steady strokes, her hands brushing down his tight chest. Needing her lips on his, he pushed himself up to a seated position, seizing her waist with his arm, clamping her body against his. Holy God. Nothing has ever felt this good. Their mouths were parted, half-kissing, half-panting, and sweat beaded along his brow.

  Yvonne gave a shattered cry, coming down harder and faster onto him.

  “I’m not gonna last,” Steve grunted. Draping a leg off the bed and bracing his foot on the floor, he thrusted up, harder. His grip on her hips tightened as they continued in hurried thrusts.

  She cried his name one more time, her body contracting around him. Her sex around his cock. Her knees against his outer thighs. Her fingers digging into his chest. Everything was clenched tight. His head fell back against the headboard as molten heat shot through his body. Semen burst from his tip, spilling inside of her, and the spasms rippled through his entire body. The desperate pulsations slowed and she lowered to his chest, her head falling to the side.

  His raging heartbeat throbbed against her cheek. He held her as tightly as he could against him, stroking his hands up and down her back as their breathing returned to normal. He needed her as close as he could. He needed her to merge with him—become one with him. She lifted her head wearily, resting her chin on his chest and looking into his eyes with her heavy lidded gaze.

  He searched her eyes for what she was trying to say with that look. It was laden with something. Something she wanted to say, but maybe couldn’t just yet. He cupped her jaw gently and felt his encouraging smile tighten around his eyes. Tell me, Eve. Talk to me, he thought. She nervously wet her lips, opening her mouth to speak as Steve’s phone blared through their silence. Through their moment.

 
Like a hammer shattering already fragile glass, Yvonne pulled away from him. Out of his arms, out of his grasp, she slid out of bed, heading toward his bathroom.

  The sigh hiccuped in his chest, but instead of indulging in it, he reached over, yanking his phone out of the charger and damn near ripping the socket out of the wall. Cam’s number lit up his screen. “This better be good,” he grunted, answering the call.

  “Well good morning to you, too,” Cam said, sounding almost as grumpy as Steve. Then again, Steve really didn’t have any reason to feel grumpy… he’d just gotten laid. But he had been hoping for a repeat performance at least once before he had to rouse himself from bed. Or at the very least, a little time to hold her. “I hate to do this to you,” Cam said, his grumpiness fading into what sounded more like regret. “But Lydia and I have a million things to do today for the engagement party. Mom’s watching Maddie, Callie’s in charge of decorations, Ronnie’s got food covered—”

  Steve sat up in bed, grabbing his boxer briefs from the floor and sliding them up over his hips. There was something about talking to his brother while he was naked that just felt wrong. “What do you need from me?”

  A pause. “You’re not gonna like it.”

  The conversation was completely reminiscent of Cam’s first wedding. Granted, they’d all been a hell of a lot younger. And Cam and Hannah had gotten married faster than anyone would have thought when Hannah found out she was pregnant with Maddie. But even still, the weeks leading up to the big day were wrought with favors and errands. Steve smiled, running his hands through his bedhead hair. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But I promise not to say so… at least not to Ma and Lydia.”

  “Noah’s flight was supposed to get into Logan last night, but he wasn’t on it. Something about a premiere he had to be at.” Cam sounded frustrated with their younger brother—Callie’s twin.

  “Aw, Christ,” Steve mumbled. Even still, Noah had been doing better about making it back to Maple Grove for family events in the last six months or so.

  “He booked another flight for today. But he gets in at five o’clock. We need someone to pick him up and bring him to the party.”

  “Logan Airport’s like a two hour drive…”

  “Yeah, I know,” Cam said, his tone apologetic.

  “He’s a television star… why the hell can’t he just rent a car? Or drive up from New York like he did on Father’s Day?”

  “I asked that, too. Apparently, our dear brother’s license got suspended a couple weeks ago.”

  “Fine, why can’t he hire a driver from the airport?”

  “I don’t know,” Cam interrupted. “All I know is that unless one of us goes to get him, he won’t make it in time for the party.”

  And Ma would be crushed. “Okay, Cam. Don’t worry about this, I got it. Text me his flight information and I’ll be there at five.”

  Steve didn’t wait for his brother to respond and simply hung up, tossing the phone onto the bed. There went his romantic evening with Yvonne. There went the plan to pick her up at her door, a fistful of sunflowers in hand. There went his attempt at their first big evening out together. He’d wanted it to be special; he’d wanted to start the night off with a bang, and hopefully end it the same way.

  “What was that about?” Steve looked up to find Yvonne leaning in his doorway, his oversized T-shirt the only thing draping over her svelte, muscled curves, and a toothbrush dangling from her lips.

  “Cam needs me to pick up Noah from the airport. Tonight. Right before the party.”

  She popped the toothbrush out of her mouth, wiping a stray bit of toothpaste from her bottom lip. “Oh.” Then with a shrug, she added, “Okay.” As though it wasn’t a big deal. And maybe to her it wasn’t. Because she didn’t have plans like he had.

  She slipped back into the bathroom, rinsing her toothbrush, and Steve followed her in. “Not ideal, but would you want to ride to Logan airport and back with me? Then we could go right to the party from there.”

  She thought that over for a minute, then shook her head. “I need to give Daisy her medicine. And Kyra and I have plans to hang out this afternoon. I’ll just meet you at the party.” She shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Could you get a ride with Kyra instead of driving?” His hand fell to her waist and he circled his thumb over her hip.

  “Why?”

  “Because then we’d have two cars. And I really wanted to take you home—officially—tonight.”

  “Mm, I like that,” she said, close enough to share air with him and staring up into his eyes.

  Something about the look in her eyes resonated in the depths of Steve’s body. Like he was important to her. And not just because they had history or nostalgia, though he had no doubt that was part of it. It was more than that. Yes, they were the same people they once were in high school, and yet they were also so, so different. It was like falling in love with someone you knew from a past life and yet still got to discover all new aspects of their personality. And he saw that same feeling in her eyes, even if she didn’t recognize it yet. She liked him. Maybe she could even love him again. The thought of that reached deep inside of him and squeezed his heart.

  “And… would you be able to let Molly out right before the party? I’ll be gone all afternoon driving to Logan—”

  Yvonne pressed her fingers to his lips to quiet him. “Of course. Don’t feel weird asking me for help. Do you wanna leave your key under a rock or something?”

  Steve linked her hand in his and pulled her toward the kitchen. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a spare key. “Here. Have it. Keep it. I should probably have it with someone other than Ma anyway.”

  “Really? Isn’t that… I don’t know. Isn’t it a little soon? It’s only been a few of weeks—”

  “A few weeks and thirteen years,” he added, his heart kicking up a notch. Fuck. He didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t ready for. He’d only just got her back. “You know what, you’re right. Use it tonight, you can leave it on the counter when you’re done.” Steve turned quickly, escaping her gaze. Only, Yvonne was faster and caught him around the waist, pulling his attention back to her.

  “Maybe I’ll just keep it… in case you lose yours. You have other copies too?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I do.” She lifted onto her toes, brushing her lips gently across his. The electricity from her kiss buzzed through his body, skating across his heart. “One more favor?”

  She gave an exaggerated sigh, dropping down to flat-footed once more. “My God, you are needy today.”

  As she tried to pull back, Steve held strong, his arm clasped around her waist and tugged her torso flush against his. He smoothed his lips across her ear, his day-old stubble scraping her skin and her hair clung to the scruff. “Tonight,” he said, skimming gentle fingers up her bare thigh and under the hem of his shirt she was wearing. She jumped as he reached her slick, wet folds, parting her and entering one finger smoothly inside. “I want you wearing nothing beneath your dress.”

  ‡

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  That afternoon, Yvonne sat on her plush sofa with Kyra beside her, Steve’s house key resting on her coffee table like some sort of holy relic she was too afraid to touch.

  “He gave you his key,” Kyra said for, like, the millionth time.

  “Sure as shit did.”

  “The guy who hasn’t been seen on a date in thirteen years gave you exclusive access to his house?”

  From his bed in the corner, Gatsby sneezed, startling a sleeping Daisy beside him awake. “Well, not exclusive. His mother has a key, too.”

  Kyra gave an eye roll to show her opinion of that. “Yeah, I’m pretending that’s not true. Let’s hope he’s not one of those guys who brings his dirty laundry to his mommy’s house for her to do.”

  His home was very organized. Clean. His dress pants were pressed with a crease down the middle of his pant leg and all hung in a line from lightest to darkest. That wasn’t the ki
nd of man who would let his mommy do his laundry. But Steve had always been particular about his things. Even when he was a party boy, he was an organized one. “I doubt that.”

  “Well, what are you wearing tonight?”

  Yvonne shrugged, falling back onto her sofa and running hand over Ruckus’ head as he slept on the floor by her feet. “I dunno. After Jonah and I broke up, I donated almost all of the fancy clothes I had.”

  “And thank God you did. You are so not a Talbots girl.”

  “I did keep a few of my favorites though. I have a black dress in there my mom bought for me a while ago.”

  Kyra’s nose wrinkled and she jerked her head as though something foul was in the air. “Let’s see it,” she said, making a little shoo gesture with her hand. “Go. Put it on.”

  Within minutes, Yvonne had her sweatpants off, zipping up the little black dress. It was simple… fitted. To the knees. And it was her typical go to “date night” dress. “Well?” she asked, turning to give Kyra the 360 view.

  “You look like you’re attending a conference. Just add a blazer and you could be a keynote speaker.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to go through my closet and pick something.”

  Kyra bounced up, dramatically flinging Yvonne’s closet doors open. “What do you usually feel confident in?”

  “Running shorts and a T-shirt,” she answered, not even needing to think about it.

  Her friend pushed a frustrated breath through tight lips. “I mean, what makes you feel sexy?”

  “Running shorts and a T-shirt.” The look she got in response could have shattered glass, only Yvonne didn’t find Kyra intimidating. Watching your best friend laugh so hard that she pees all over your bedroom when you’re both fifteen takes the intimidation out of a person. “What can I say? I’m a simple girl. I have an aversion to fancy clothes,” she said, shrugging. “Too many cotillions and stiff dinners with my parents.”