by Karen Rose
“While I was with him, we were happy.” She shrugged. “He was a good person.”
“I’m glad you had him. I’m glad he made you happy.”
She nodded, acknowledging the words that she’d said to him. She met his gaze squarely. “If he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be with you. Even if you were alone.”
“I know,” he said again, and she visibly relaxed. “So now what?”
She lifted her brows. “That’s a vague question. Be specific.”
He looked around the classy apartment. “Will you stay here? Or will you come home?”
“Home,” she said, and every tense muscle in his body let go. “On my side of the duplex. I’m not moving in with you yet.”
His lips curved. “Not yet?”
“Nope. You’re going to court me.”
“I am?”
Rising on her knees so that she loomed above him, she kissed him hard. “You are. You’re going to come over for meals and I’ll come to your place for movies. We’ll go out on dates. We’ll continue to share Pebbles. And I will continue paying you rent for my side of the duplex.”
“I donate it to the kids’ charity in town, just so you know.”
“I’ve always known that,” she said. “You’ve got cash. I get that. I’m not rich, but I’m not poor, either. So I’ll continue to pay rent, and you’ll continue to donate it.”
He grinned up at her. “And I’ll court you.”
She nodded sharply. “You will.”
“Okay.”
She frowned, a little line appearing between her crunched brows. “I have one more question. On Thursday night, when we were arguing about me going to work at Sunnyside Oaks, I thought you were going to kiss me.”
“I was.” He remembered that moment with excruciating clarity. The moment after even more so.
“But then you backed away like I had the plague and you looked appalled. I didn’t expect that. Why did you do that?”
“Because I was still telling myself that you were my friend. I’d already fucked up and you’d moved out. I was afraid. I could see myself ruining what was left of our friendship.” He hesitated. “And everyone kept telling me that you had deeper feelings for me, but I wasn’t ready to let Tory go. I loved her. I really did. I don’t know. Maybe I was afraid to move on.”
“I get it,” she assured him. “If you admit that you’re open to moving on, you’re also open to getting hurt, and that’s scary, too.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispered. “That night I knew I should let you go. I was about to text you, to say goodbye. But I couldn’t make myself type it. I couldn’t let you go.”
“So you said good night,” she whispered back. “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye.”
“I’ll be careful with your heart. I might fuck up, but I won’t hurt you on purpose.”
“And I won’t walk away without talking it out when you do.” She rested her forehead on his. “Are we done talking for now?”
His hands began their restless journey up and down her thighs again. “Why?”
“Because I’ve dreamed of kissing you since I was seventeen years old and I haven’t had nearly enough.”
“Do I get to do what I dreamed of, too?” Because now that he’d broken down the compartment walls, he was remembering all of the fantasies he’d had to bury deep in his mind.
Bury deep. He shuddered at the images the words conjured, fantasies rushing to fill his mind.
It was like he was twenty years old again, and the feeling was intoxicating. I can do all the things now. I don’t have to pretend.
She smiled against his lips. “That seems fair.” Then she half laughed, half shrieked when he reared up and tumbled her to her back, coming to rest on top of her. Her legs parted for him and his body twitched, needing to thrust.
They’d do that, but for this moment, he’d feast on her mouth. She wanted to be courted. “I won’t rush. We’ll take this slow.”
“Not too slow.” Her fingers clenched in his shirt and jerked it free of his trousers before freeing the remaining buttons. She slid her palms up his torso, humming appreciatively. “Take it off. I’ve been waiting long enough.”
Skin tingling everywhere she touched, he pushed to his knees and shrugged out of the shirt. He started to lower himself back onto her, but she sat up, hands reaching for him.
“Let me look,” she whispered. “Just let me look.”
She didn’t only look, though. Her hands got busy, stroking his pecs and down his sides. He closed his eyes, tipping his head back, letting himself float as she touched every inch of his torso.
His eyes flew open and he sucked in a breath when she pressed her lips to his stomach, millimeters from his waistband. Every nerve in his body sang and his cock grew harder when he hadn’t thought it possible.
She glanced up. “Ticklish?”
“No.” He was breathing hard. “You make it hard to stay in control.”
“Good.” She kissed him again, but this time her tongue stole out to lick the skin she’d kissed.
He hissed. “Liza.”
Another glance up, her brown eyes gone dark and needy. Then she shocked him by leaning forward, her mouth so close to his groin that he could feel her warm breath when she exhaled. “What if I don’t want you to stay in control?”
“Liza,” he warned. And then she inhaled, making a needy noise that severed whatever discipline he’d still possessed. “Fuck,” he growled, pushing her to the sofa and following her down. He claimed her mouth, taking what he needed, and he wasn’t gentle.
She shoved her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer, reminding him that his Liza was strong. He needed more, needed to touch her, needed to see her. Needed to be inside her.
He tugged her shirt up, feeling the silky skin of her stomach. She shivered, wriggling beneath him.
“Ticklish?” he asked, loving the way her cheeks were flushed, her eyes gone dark with lust.
“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you ever want to do any of those things you dreamed of, you won’t take advantage of that confession.”
Tom slid down her torso so that he could kiss the skin he’d bared. “Sorry,” he murmured, brushing his lips over her ribs, then upward, taking his time, smiling as her skin pebbled. Until she made another needy whimpering sound.
His kisses became openmouthed and urgent, his hips rolling and thrusting against the sofa cushions when he really needed to be rolling and thrusting into her. He shoved the hem of her shirt higher, going stock-still when he uncovered her bra.
He looked up to meet her eyes. She was watching him, her torso still. She was holding her breath. “I want to see you,” he said hoarsely. “Can I see you?”
“Yes. Please.”
He might have chuckled at her politeness, but she reached behind her to unhook her bra, and then he couldn’t breathe, either. Crossing her arms, she gripped the hem of her shirt and the bra together and pulled them off.
It took him a few heartbeats to find words. “You’re beautiful.”
Her lips curved self-consciously, but she said nothing.
He hung there, staring, torn between the urge to rush and take and taste and suck and the more overwhelming need to take his time. Carefully, reverently, he kissed the valley between her breasts and drew in her scent.
God. The delicate citrus of her bodywash was overpowered by the sweet, heady scent of her arousal. He was so hard that he hurt.
He kissed the underside of each breast. “I want you.” He kissed the swells, avoiding her nipples, hard and erect. Humming in frustration, she palmed his cheeks and tried to pull his mouth closer.
Her whisper was barely audible. “Suck me.”
Gently he grabbed her wrists, guiding them over her head and restraining them with one hand. “I only get this first t
ime once,” he told her. “I don’t want to rush.”
She tipped her head back. “Tom,” she whined. “Don’t distract me with being all romantic.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No,” he agreed. “I’m not.” He licked one nipple and her mouth fell open.
“You’re a fucking tease,” she growled. “I didn’t expect—” She gasped when he closed his lips over the other nipple and sucked, her hips rocking up into him.
His brain and his cock were already ten steps ahead, planning what he’d do and how he’d do it, when a stark realization had him screeching to a halt. Lifting his head, he frowned. “I don’t have anything. Condoms. I didn’t bring any with me. I’m clean, but . . .”
She groaned. “So am I, and you know I trust you with my life, but I’m not on the pill.”
He lowered his head, resting his forehead between her breasts. “I almost bought some, but I didn’t want to assume what would happen when I got here.”
She tugged one of her hands loose of his grip and stroked his hair. “Do you have some at your house?”
He looked up, his damn pulse rocketing. “No, but there are roughly sixty-two drugstores between here and there.”
She brushed her fingertips over his cheek. “Let’s go home, then.”
God. Hearing her say “home,” and knowing what they’d do when they got there . . . He drew in a breath and shuddered it out. “I’m going to need a few minutes.”
She was back to stroking his hair, and it felt so good. “We have time.”
Clarity cut through the haze in his mind. Time. She was going to Sunnyside Oaks in roughly thirty-six hours. If DJ Belmont caught wind of who she was . . .
Time wouldn’t be something they had nearly enough of.
EDEN, CALIFORNIA
SUNDAY, MAY 28, 8:00 P.M.
“Hey.” Graham stuck his head around the curtain separating Hayley’s cubicle from the rest of Joshua’s holdings. Which had grown, because he was now “in charge” and “deserved upgraded facilities.”
It was insane. There was no upgrade to be had here. It was all horrible. And my baby’s going to born into this. My baby could die here. I could die here.
Who would take care of Graham? Who would keep him from being “apprenticed”? Not their mother, for sure. She was the reason they were here. She’s the reason my baby’s getting stolen if she lives. She’s—
Fingers pinched her chin. “Hey,” Graham repeated more firmly.
She looked up, surprised to see him kneeling in front of her.
“You were starting to panic,” he said. “I could see it on your face.”
She nodded, then slowly backed away from him, deliberately not breathing through her nose. He smelled like the toilets, but he was doing it for her, for them, to get them all out of here, so she wouldn’t say a single word about it.
He grinned, unoffended. “I believe the word is ‘pungent.’ I think Joshua is torn between making someone else dump the pots while making me take a bath, and letting me continue because no one else wants to do it. And we don’t have water for baths anyway. I brought you a snack,” he added, reaching for the bowl of broth that he’d set on the floor.
Hayley took it gratefully. It was the fifth bowl of broth she’d had that day. Joshua made sure that she got food “for the baby,” but it never seemed enough. Tamar had been slipping her extra too, but Hayley knew that she was taking the other woman’s own rations.
She studied her brother as she sipped the broth. “What have you done?” she whispered, feeling a little of his good mood lighten hers.
Solar panels, he mouthed.
Hayley swallowed her gasp of delight. They were alone because Joshua had moved his other wives into quarters he’d claimed after declaring himself the acting pastor. It was temporary, he’d assured everyone, saying, Magdalena will soon give birth and she needs privacy for that. I will relinquish this space when Pastor and Sister Coleen return.
It had been then that Hayley had realized Joshua’s expansion had been into Pastor’s quarters. It hadn’t sat well with the community, but Joshua reminded them that Pastor himself had left him in charge.
Graham said that tempers were short, and Hayley had heard shouting and fights all the way back in her little cubicle. She didn’t leave her space except to go to the toilets. She didn’t have the energy to even listen to the discord.
Graham and Tamar had become her windows to the world of Eden. Such as it was.
You got the solar panels hooked up? she mouthed back.
Graham nodded slowly, but his eyes were sparkling. He’s enjoying this. Her little brother had developed a taste for disruption. God help the world once we get back.
“I’ll hook up the computer tomorrow,” he whispered. “I’ve been carrying it out in boxes that smell like shit. Because they once held shit.”
“Makes sense, then,” Hayley murmured, hope blossoming. “What can I do to help you?”
“Just stay here and stay safe.” He patted her stomach. “Keep little Zit safe, too.”
Hayley mock-scowled at him. “Her name is Jellybean.”
“Forever to be known as Princess Zit.” He rolled to his heels. “Gotta go. Curfew soon.”
“You’re respecting curfew?” Hayley asked. “Really?”
He winked. “My stepbrothers are offended by my bouquet.” He mimed twisting a knife. “So I show up extra early.”
“I love you,” Hayley murmured. She never let him leave now without saying it. He was in constant danger. If someone found the solar panels or the computer, they’d beat him. Or worse.
But he was twelve years old and cockier than hell. “Ditto,” he said. Then he was gone, leaving her with nothing to do but think. And maybe to hope. Just a little.
ROCKLIN, CALIFORNIA
SUNDAY, MAY 28, 8:30 P.M.
Liza dropped to her knees as soon as she entered Tom’s kitchen, because Pebbles had rushed to greet her, tail wagging so hard that the dog should have fallen over. Wrapping her arms around Pebbles’s neck, she nuzzled her cheek against the dog’s fur. “Missed you, sweet girl.”
Behind her, the door to the garage closed and Tom joined her, kneeling on one knee to scratch behind Pebbles’s ears. “I’m right here,” he said blandly. “Did you miss me, too?”
She pivoted on the floor, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I did. Every single one of the twenty minutes since I last saw you.”
He ran his hands up her back and kissed her hard. “I was two feet away.”
“You were in the front seat and I was in the back seat, on the floor and under a blanket.”
He’d insisted, worried that someone might be watching outside the apartment building.
“To keep you safe.” He searched her face, a frown on his. “You’re nervous.”
“A little. I mean, deciding we’re having sex, then putting it off like this? Although I should be fine with it,” she added lightly. “What’s twenty minutes when I’ve waited seven years?”
She was babbling. Because she was nervous, and only part of it was the forced delay.
Most of it was worry that she’d forced him into this.
He tipped her chin up so that he could see her face. “Did you change your mind?” he asked quietly. “Because if you did, it’s all right. We can wait until—”
She silenced him with a kiss, putting everything she had into it. It was lush and hot and channeled every erotic fantasy of him that she’d ever had. He groaned deep in his throat and palmed her butt, yanking her against him. She could feel him throbbing against her, and all she wanted was his hands on every inch of her skin.
He wrenched away, breathing hard, his eyes hungry. “Why are you nervous, then?”
“I don’t want you to do this because I guilted you into it.”
He shifted, pressing harder into her while tightening his hold on her ass. “I’m here because I don’t want to be anywhere else. Do you believe me?”
She wanted to. She cupped his face and forced herself to answer honestly. “Mostly.”
“Do you want to wait?” he asked, her nerves apparently catching.
Of that answer she was certain. “Not another minute.”
He exhaled in a relieved rush. “Thank God. But if you change your mind—”
She pressed her finger to his lips. “I know. But I won’t. Show me your bedroom, Tom.”
He closed his eyes, drawing a breath. “I’m not going to make it that far.”
“Then you’ll come twice,” she said, then laughed when he tugged her up the stairs and into his room.
He stopped short, drinking her in. “I’ve wished you were here.”
She loved the look in his eyes. It made her feel desired and powerful. “You have?”
He nodded, hands lifting to unbutton his shirt. “I have.” He toed off his shoes. “Usually when I was trying to sleep. I’d think of you all cozy in your blankets and I’d want to rip them off you and . . . make you scream my name.”
Her mouth went dry when he took off the shirt. He was . . . wow. “You did?”
“I did.” He pulled the belt from his jeans and freed the button. “I’d tell myself it was impossible. That I’d ruin our friendship.”
“That was . . .” She forgot what she was going to say when he slid his zipper down.
“That was?” He shoved his jeans to his knees, revealing black boxer briefs that clung like a second skin. He was hard and big and she wanted him more than she wanted to breathe.
“Um.” The sound came out a dry croak. His predatory grin made her heart race and her knees weak. She took a step back, lowering herself to sit on the bed. “What was the question?”
He kicked off his jeans and pulled off his socks, making even that movement look graceful and fluid. “I said I was afraid I’d ruin our friendship. You said, ‘That was . . .’ That was what?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
She heard his chuckle but didn’t look up, unable to take her eyes off that bulge. She could see him pulsing and she itched to touch. He stepped closer, bringing that delicious bulge right in front of her face. She grabbed the hem of the briefs and yanked them down. His cock slapped against his stomach and she shuddered out a sigh before closing her fingers around him.