by Marie Force
“Where’re we going?” Her heart raced with a mixture of fear and curiosity, but Sarah refused to let the fear get the better of her, so she focused on the curiosity instead.
“Does it matter?”
Sarah thought about that for a second. “I guess not.”
“Relax. I promise you’ll be perfectly safe with me.”
“Somehow, I find that hard to believe,” she said drolly, and then she was instantly concerned that she might’ve offended him. But before she could apologize, he laughed.
“Am I that scary?”
“It’s not you.”
“Well, it can’t be you.”
“Why do you say that?” Sarah tried to forget that he was still holding her hand as he walked them toward the breakwater. Thankfully, the full moon and the streetlights made it possible to follow the path that wound behind the hotel to the beach.
“Because you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. You’re gentle and sweet and accommodating.”
Sarah heard the words but couldn’t bring herself to believe he was talking about her.
“I wish you could see how you light up when you’re holding baby Holden. It’s a sight to behold.”
She never would’ve thought gruff, intense Charlie capable of waxing so poetic. “You certainly pay attention.”
“I had nothing better to do for fourteen years than to observe the people around me. Fascinating, to say the least.”
“Was it awful all the time?”
“Pretty much.”
“I don’t know how anyone can stand prison, but it has to be especially difficult for those who are innocent.”
“I wouldn’t change anything,” he said in a gruff tone that was more in keeping with what she expected from him than his gentle-poet side. “I don’t like to think about what might’ve become of Stephanie if I hadn’t gotten between her and her mother.”
“You must love her very much.”
“I have from the first day I met her. She was a special kid then, and she’s a special kid now. All the years I was inside, she never forgot about me or stopped fighting to get me out. She’s my family. She’s all I’ve got.”
“And her mother? Do you hear from her at all?”
“She died a couple of months after the incident that landed me in jail. I don’t think much about her anymore. I had to let go of the bitterness or let it eat me alive.”
Sarah thought about that as she stepped onto the first of the huge flat-faced stones that made up the breakwater. “Is it safe to be out here at night?”
“As long as we watch where we step.”
“Stephanie’s mother,” Sarah said, picking up the conversation after they settled into an easy pace on the rocks, “what was she like?”
“Very sweet and lovely, when she wasn’t an abusive addict.”
Sarah had wondered about him for such a long time that it was hard not to pepper him with questions now that he seemed willing to talk.
“What else do you want to know?”
She caught a hint of a grin in the pale moonlight. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
He stopped so suddenly that she might’ve run into him if he hadn’t anticipated that possibility and held out his other hand to steady her. “Will you do something for me?” he asked, sounding serious and intent.
“If I can.”
“Will you never apologize to me again? Will you never be sorry for asking an honest question or expressing an honest feeling? Will you never worry that I’m suddenly going to become angry with you or become someone different because I don’t like what you said? Can you do that for me?”
Since he’d rendered her speechless as well as breathless, Sarah only stared at him for the longest time. “I…I don’t know if I can do that. I…I don’t know what it’s like not to be afraid of those things.”
“Sweet, sweet Sarah,” he whispered as he put his arms lightly around her, asking her without words to let him hold her.
He didn’t make her feel pressured or overwhelmed or afraid. Rather, he surrounded her with his quiet strength, the scent of his aftershave and the promises he’d made to be nothing like the man who’d harmed her so profoundly.
She swayed toward him and was proud of herself when she didn’t flinch as his muscles tightened around her.
“Hold on to me, sweet Sarah.”
Her hands found his hips in the dark.
“That’s the way.” They stood there for the longest time as the cool breeze whipped at her hair and flattened her skirt against her legs. They stood there as the foghorn blared and a group of young women laughed their way through town. “Now what else do you want to know about me?”
Even though the air was chilly, Sarah felt warm from the inside out as his much bigger body formed a shelter from the breeze. “Did you love your wife?”
“Very much so, until I found out who she really was. Stephanie blames herself for not telling me her mother was an addict. She doesn’t think I know that, but how could I not know she was so afraid I’d leave them that she hid the truth from me?”
“The poor kid was hanging on to the one person she could count on.”
He nodded in agreement. “I was happy to be that person for her. When they accused me of abusing her…”
Sarah felt the shudder travel through his muscular body.
“That was the worst day of my life.”
“I’m so sorry for all you went through.”
“Thank you.” His lips brushed against her forehead, setting off a reaction that traveled to all her most important places.
It’d been so long since Sarah had experienced desire that she was surprised she still recognized it.
“Are you going to tell me what happened to you?”
“Maybe someday, but not tonight.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to ever tell me if you don’t want to.”
Knowing he didn’t expect her to spill her secrets was somehow freeing. “Thank you. I’ve had a lovely time.”
“Me, too. Next time, it’ll be just you and me.”
As Sarah rested her face against his chest, she decided she couldn’t wait for next time.
Tiffany waited until she was certain Blaine was asleep before she slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom. With the door closed, she slid down to sit on the floor to process everything she’d overheard.
He’d lost his last job because of a woman. She desperately wanted to know what had happened, but another part of her didn’t want to know. The idea that she could cause him the same kind of trouble made her feel sick all over again, but this time, she was heartsick. She couldn’t let him risk his career and livelihood, and she certainly didn’t want to wait around for him to figure out that she was more trouble than she was worth.
Her father had left her. Her husband had left her. Why would Blaine be any different? Sure, he’d said all the right things, but he wasn’t the kind of man who’d discount his mother’s concerns. Eventually, she’d wear him down, and he’d leave, too.
A sharp pain under her ribs took her breath away. She understood in that moment that losing Blaine would be far more painful than any of the other losses. In the short time they’d spent together, he’d worked his way past her defenses and had given her a glimpse of what might’ve been if things had been different. She hadn’t planned to fall in love with him, she thought as she wiped away tears.
With hindsight, she should’ve known she would. From that first explosive moment in her kitchen through every other meeting, the signs had been there. At times she felt like she barely knew him. At other times, she felt like she’d never known anyone better.
It was her own fault, she concluded as the pain in her chest intensified and a sob escaped from her lips. She’d failed to remember that theirs was only a fling and had made the huge mistake of allowing her heart to become involved. Her course of action became crystal clear: She had to leave him before he left her. That was her only choice. As painful as
it might be at first, it would be far better to have it happen now, before she fell any deeper in love with him. She’d convinced herself, but how would she convince him that their relationship had been doomed before it ever began?
Right as she had that thought, she heard the heavy thud of footsteps approaching the bathroom door. She couldn’t let him find her crying, so she scrambled for the toilet.
He knocked softly on the door. “Tiffany? Are you okay?”
She wiped her face frantically. “Come in.”
He opened the door and stopped short when he saw her leaning over the toilet. “Were you sick again?”
“False alarm.” She ventured a glance at him over her shoulder and noticed he’d pulled on a pair of gym shorts. The concern she saw on his face made the ache in her chest worsen.
Behind her, she heard water running. He handed her a cold washcloth that felt heavenly against her fevered skin. “Thank you.”
“Can I get you anything?” he asked, studying her intently. No doubt he could tell she’d been crying.
She shook her head.
“I know what you need.”
She watched as he went over to the tub and turned on the water and then came back for her, reaching out to help her up off the floor. He squeezed toothpaste on her brush and kept an arm around her as she brushed her teeth.
“I don’t have any of that strawberry stuff you love so much, but the hot water will feel good.”
A bath, she realized, was exactly what she needed. How had he figured that out before she knew it herself? “Thank you.” She waited for him to ask why she’d been crying, but he didn’t.
When the water was ready, he helped her out of her robe and nightgown and held her hand as she stepped into the steaming bath. He surprised her when he knelt next to the tub and reached for a bottle of shampoo.
“Get your hair wet.”
She dipped her hair into the water and waited to see what he would do.
He massaged the shampoo into her hair and scalp, making her sigh with pleasure. Had anything ever felt so good?
She kept her eyes closed as he soaped every inch of her skin, except for the area that burned for him. He saved that for last, running soapy fingers over her smooth folds, arousing her with only a few strokes.
“Blaine…”
“Sorry. I forgot you’re sick.”
When he would’ve withdrawn his hand, she grabbed his wrist and kept him there. So much for her resolve to put a halt to things with him. It had taken him five minutes of tender care to show her how lacking in willpower she was where he was concerned.
“Is my girl not as sick as she pretends to be?” he asked with amusement in his voice.
Her heart beat faster when he called her his girl. “I’m never too sick for this.”
He pressed his fingers deeper into her, surprising her when he used his free hand to tweak her nipple.
She shuddered and came the second his fingers made contact with the heart of her desire.
“So, so beautiful,” he whispered as he continued to stroke her sensitive flesh.
“Blaine…”
“What, honey?”
“I want you to…” Tiffany stopped herself, unaccustomed to asking for what she wanted from a man. His sweetness had left her feeling raw and exposed to feelings she’d only recently tried to deny. How foolish that seemed only a few minutes later, after he’d proven her powerless to resist him.
“What, baby? Anything you want.”
“Will you hold me?”
“God, yes. There’s nothing I’d rather do. Let’s get you out of there.”
He helped her to stand and ran a towel over her reverently, leaving no part of her untouched, and even towel-dried and brushed her hair. Watching him tend to her made her heart melt and her sex ache with the need for more. Even though she still felt lousy, she wanted to be close to him. She needed to be close to him. When had he become her anchor? When had he become so necessary?
“Steady,” he said when her legs wavered under her. His hands on her shoulders kept her on her feet until he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom, depositing her gently on the bed. When she began to shiver, he pulled the covers up and over her, surrounding her with his appealing scent. She watched him drop his shorts and held out her arms to welcome him into bed.
“Oh, you’re so warm!” she said as he wrapped himself around her.
“Snuggle closer to get the full impact.”
The “full impact,” she discovered, was indeed quite full and pressed insistently against her belly. She couldn’t resist reaching down to stroke his heated skin and reveled in the groan that seemed to come from deep inside his chest.
“That feels so good.”
“I want you.” Why be coy? Why pretend otherwise? Why pretend that hadn’t been the case from the first time she ever laid eyes on him?
“You’ve been so sick, honey.”
“I’m okay. I need you.”
He cupped her bottom, holding her even tighter against him as he pushed rhythmically into her hand. “You have me,” he said gruffly. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“There’s nothing you could say that would mean more to me than that.”
He captured her lips in a breathtakingly intense kiss that had her straining against him, begging for more. “How could he ever let you go?”
“I wasn’t like this with him.” She squeezed him to make her point. “I was always afraid to take what I wanted.”
“Don’t ever be afraid with me. I’d give you anything. All you have to do is ask.”
Encouraged by his sweet words and the even sweeter sincerity behind them, she wiggled down to kiss his chest, giving special attention to his nipple, which made him gasp and expand in her hand. She moved farther down, running her tongue over muscles in his belly that quivered in response. When she took his straining erection into her mouth, she kept up the steady strokes of her hand at the base.
Her free hand traveled around to his rear, squeezing and running her nails over his cheeks. That seemed to make him a little crazy, so she let her middle finger delve into the crease, which was all it took to make him come—hard. She licked up every drop of his intense release before she let him slide from between her lips.
“Wow,” he said. His eyes were closed, and his chest heaved.
Tiffany loved that she’d done that to him. Maybe it would never work between them in the long run. Maybe it would blow up in her face the way her relationship with Jim had. Maybe, maybe… She couldn’t remember being so content or happy. Even the threat of eviction hanging over the store couldn’t dampen the sweet feelings Blaine inspired.
“Come here,” he whispered.
“Where?”
“Up here.”
She worked her way closer to his face. “I’m here.”
“As beautiful as this face is,” he said, cupping her cheek for effect, “it’s not the part of you I want.”
Tiffany’s eyes widened with surprise—and a tiny bit of alarm. “What part do you want?”
His hand coasted over her back to cup her bottom. “This part. If you feel up to playing some more, that is.”
At some point in the last half hour, she’d forgotten all about being sick—and that she’d planned to leave him. “Ah… What do you want with that part of me?”
“Come find out.” His tone was heavy with desire and challenge.
Never one to back down, Tiffany was at once curious and anxious. He seemed to possess endless ways to arouse and stir her. Filled with trepidation—and excitement—she knelt and turned her back to him. “Like this?”
His hand traveled from her shoulder to her bottom in a light caress that made her insides flutter and her sex ache with anticipation. “It’s a good start.” He gripped her hips and encouraged her to keep her back to his face when she straddled him. When he had her arranged the way he wanted her, his hand on her back encouraged her to bend over him. She felt horribly exposed a
nd terribly aroused by a position that was all new to her. Waiting to see what he would do made her skin tingle.
“Mmm,” he said as his lips coasted over her inner thigh. “What a lovely, lovely sight.”
She was glad he thought so, because she was about to die of embarrassment. Tiffany had no idea what she was supposed to do with her hands, so she rested them on his thighs and felt his muscles jump in reaction, letting her know he wasn’t unaffected by this new game.
And then his tongue was outlining her sex, laying a tantalizing path of sensation over her bare skin that turned her muscles to water.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
“I’m trying not to.” She sounded breathless and positively wanton as she tried to wriggle closer to his questing tongue.
“Try harder.” His hand came down on her right buttock in a light smack that made her moan. Before she had a chance to recover from the spank, his tongue was delving inside her and she was on the verge of an explosive release.
“Don’t come yet.”
“But I—”
This time his hand landed on her left cheek, leaving a fiery sting in its wake.
Tiffany gasped and panted, pushing her sex against his face. She started to imagine how she must look, naked and spread out on top of him, and then realized she didn’t care how she looked. He liked what he was seeing, and that was all that mattered.
His finger at the base of her spine roused her out of her musings to pay close attention as it traveled down, down, down. He paused only to press against her back entrance before continuing on to slide into her slick heat.
“Don’t come,” he said again, more harshly this time as his tongue teased her and his fingers slid into her, pressing against that spot deep inside for a brief instant before retreating once again.
She noticed he was hard again and decided to even the score by using her tongue on him, teasing the tip with the same darting strokes he was giving her.
His growl was the only sign he gave that she was getting to him, so she kept it up, cupping his balls for added effect.
“Do not come,” he said, sounding less fierce this time as he raised his hips. “Suck me.” He punctuated his harsh command with another stab of his tongue.