Forever Only Once

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “The way you say that sounds like you’re from the Regency era.”

  “Our money’s actually older than that,” she said. And then she sighed. “But that doesn’t matter. Honestly, I have the privilege of saying that. I donate what I can, and I actually pay my taxes, but yes, I have money. You do, too. But you earned yours.”

  “Hey, you work your ass off. You don’t have to.”

  “I guess that’s true. It’s just a touchy subject. But back to my story. There I am, poor little rich girl—as I said, Thomas would say that when I wanted to work. When I wanted to fund things myself. Anyway, he was chosen for me, and I happened to fall in love with him. It was one of the worst mistakes of my life.”

  “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want to go into too much detail, mostly because we’re in public, and I don’t really want to talk about it, but I feel like I need to. Thomas was not a nice man. After my parents died, he didn’t have his leash anymore. He hurt me in more ways than one. He was a horrible person. He stalked me when I left him. He hurt me. Over and over. And when he went to prison, it created a vast media nightmare, at least in our circles. That’s what Mr. Peterman was referring to. He was surprised seeing me out and about because of the incident.”

  “Jesus. I don’t know what to say. Are you safe now?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be safe with him out. And that’s the honest truth. I don’t know. But there’s nothing I can do about it. I have security on my house. The detectives know what’s going on.” She shook her head when I opened my mouth to say more.

  “I don’t want to dive into it again. Just know I’m fine. I know it’s a paltry word for what I feel, but it’s the truth. I went through hell, and he caused it, though I caused a little bit because of my determination to do things on my own. I can’t change that.”

  “Don’t you dare blame yourself.” Rage coursed through me, but I held it back. The thought of Hazel being hurt made me want to find Thomas and rip his head off his shoulders. But adding more violence to the situation wouldn’t help anyone.

  “I didn’t like the fact that Mr. Peterman threw that in my face, but now I guess you understand a bit more of why I’m careful about who I meet. And why it’s taken me so long to go out on a date again.”

  I reached across the table and touched her hand. She didn’t pull away. Thank God. “You’re so fucking brave. You don’t need to tell me anything more. It’s not my business to know. It’s your right to tell me what you need to. But the fact that you’re even going out again? I’m so proud of you. That the guy happens to be me? I’m one lucky son of a bitch.”

  I said the words a bit crudely to make her laugh, to jolt her out of wherever she was in her head just then.

  I hated what she had been through, and I hated more that I couldn’t change it. But I could be there for her. All thoughts of what I was dealing with in regards to Chris flew from my mind, and my inner overprotective asshole came back in full force.

  “Let’s just have a good night. Let’s play foodie and eat and drink the rest of this wine, and then maybe chug some water,” she added with a laugh. “And let’s pretend that everything is flowery and wonderful. Because that’s what I need.”

  “I can do that. I can be that for you.”

  “Good. And then maybe you can tell me why you looked so glower-y even before I told you a bit about my past.”

  “I thought you said you wanted to have a good time.”

  “Cross.”

  I told her about work and Chris, and when she gripped her wine glass tightly and forced herself to set it down, her eyes narrowed in anger, I knew that I had been missing this.

  I needed this. Having someone to talk to, to share my fears with. To just be with.

  I hadn’t been looking for Hazel. But I’d found her, just like she’d found me.

  And as I thought about Chris and this Thomas asshole, I knew that things weren’t perfect, but we were trying to find our way.

  I didn’t want to let Hazel go. Even though I was still getting to know her, I felt like I already knew her inside and out.

  And that should scare me, but it didn’t.

  It just made me want her more.

  And even more, it made me want to be a man who deserved her.

  I could fall for her if I let myself. Fuck, maybe I already had.

  And I had no idea what the hell to do about that.

  Chapter 11

  Hazel

  * * *

  Was I making a mistake? Perhaps. But it was my mistake to make. I could do this. I could let a man into my inner sanctum and not stress out.

  My hands gripped the steering wheel even as I snorted at that thought. Talk about a double entendre when it came to the phrase inner sanctum.

  Cross was behind me in his car, following me to my house. After this, he would know where I lived. I was going to let him inside.

  What were we to do then? That was up to both of us once we got there. He told me more about himself. We had spent so long talking over dinner that we had closed down the restaurant.

  I knew our waiter probably hadn’t been happy with us taking up the table for so long, but we had compensated him with a nice tip.

  But we had been just the two of us, me and Cross. We’d spent so much of our time together tonight learning about one another. I had told him about my past, and he hadn’t run. No, he’d stayed. He’d been there for me. And he hadn’t judged. He’d been angry on my behalf. And then he’d told me about his past, his worries.

  And I’d been there for him.

  All over drinks and dinner.

  Baring our souls the barest of inches. Yet it was the start of something.

  Something new. Something for now.

  As he followed behind me and I drove home, I realized he would potentially be in my house.

  “There’s no potential about it,” I told myself.

  It had to be intentional. I had to take this step. I needed to not be so scared. I trusted him. And the thing was, I hadn’t always trusted Thomas. Oh, I might’ve told myself that I had fallen head over heels for him, but he had been in my life because of my parents. I’d never once blamed them for what had happened, but I did blame myself for falling the way I did.

  For ignoring the warning signs.

  I didn’t sense any red flags when it came to Cross. I had to hope that was enough.

  I had to believe. I had to jump in. I had to…be.

  I parked in my garage, and he pulled into the driveway. I shut the garage door behind me, having told him this part of my routine.

  That he would have to wait for me to come around.

  I let out a deep breath and then went through all of my security measures, looking at him through the security camera and putting my finger on the screen.

  “Let’s do this,” I whispered.

  And then I made my way to the door and opened it, having checked through the peephole and the camera on my phone again just in case.

  I was probably being overly cautious, but I was letting someone into my house.

  I needed this to work.

  Shivers slid up and down my body, but it wasn’t from fear. No, it was the look on Cross’s face.

  The dark one that told me he was thinking thoughts that went along the same path as mine, things that had nothing to do with security. But rather what walking over that threshold would mean for the both of us.

  “May I come in?” he asked.

  I took a step back, swallowing hard, unable to speak.

  “You need to use your words, Hazel. I need to make sure. Don’t be scared.”

  I smiled, knowing he was right. He was doing all the right things. That should worry me, but it didn’t.

  “Please come in, Cross.”

  And then he did.

  I closed the door behind him, locking it securely, and then I let out a deep breath as I turned to him. I placed my palms on the door and leaned back,
trying to breathe. I inhaled that woodsy scent of his and my toes curled. I loved it.

  “So. This is my home.”

  Awkward, much?

  It was probably larger than I needed, but it wasn’t a McMansion or anything like that. However, because I sometimes had trouble leaving the house after everything that had happened with Thomas, I’d wanted an easily defensible place that was mine. Somewhere I wouldn’t feel claustrophobic in if I didn’t leave for days.

  That was probably a weird thing to think, but they were my thoughts, so I went with it.

  “It’s nice.” He let out a breath. “Hell, it’s beautiful. Sorry, I told you before I wasn’t good at this. Now, here we are, alone in your house. I know this is a momentous occasion, but all I want to do is kiss you.”

  I let out a breath. “Then let’s not think about the momentous occasion part. Let’s not make this anything but normal. And why don’t you kiss me?”

  He raised a brow.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Kiss me. And let’s pretend everything is normal.”

  Cross let out a little laugh that wasn’t entirely full of humor. “I don’t think either one of us is normal. However, it is you and me. You tell me what you want.”

  “I don’t know what I want, not in the grand scheme of things. But I do know I want you to kiss me now.” I wanted to feel. I wanted to just be.

  Cross took a step forward and slowly traced his finger along the line of my jaw. I leaned into him, resisting the urge to close my eyes. I wanted to watch him, to see every movement. And not because of fear. Because I wanted to soak in every single moment of time that I had with him.

  I had found myself over time. The real me. I had figured out who I needed to be as I grew and healed.

  Cross wasn’t healing me. I had done that myself.

  But now, I was finding who I could be when I wasn’t alone. When I wasn’t relying on just my strength.

  I could imagine myself with someone else and not just in the vastness of my aching heart, in my soul, and its depth of loneliness.

  But I didn’t have to worry about any of that.

  I could have him.

  Finally. “Be sure.”

  In answer, I went up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his.

  Luckily, he had lowered his head so I could do it easily, and I kept my eyes open, slowly parting my lips so I could kiss him deeper.

  He grinned against my mouth and then slid his hand into my hair, tugging it ever so slightly.

  Thomas had done that once and had pulled me across the floor, but this was different. I only had a vague memory of the pain of the past, and it didn’t matter now.

  Because I wasn’t that person.

  And Cross wasn’t that man.

  Instead, it was just him and me, and this feeling, this sensation.

  Cross took a step back, only a small one so his hand could still cup my face, his mouth remaining close to mine.

  “I like doing that,” he whispered.

  “I like you doing that. I think we need to do it again,” I whispered. My eyes widened. “You make me want to say anything. I’m not always like this.”

  Cross tilted his head, running his hand over my hair. “I don’t know about that. You’ve always said what you think when you’re in front of me. And you did let me sit down the first night we met. And when you text me, you always call me out on my bullshit. I think that person’s always been in there. I like the fact that you’re showing her to me.”

  I looked up at him, a smile playing on my face. “I like that. It’s a good thought. Is it true? I don’t know. But I’d like to believe it’s true.”

  “I should go now,” Cross said, his voice low, but his eyes never leaving mine.

  I swallowed hard. My hands weren’t shaking now, but my voice was. “What if I don’t want you to go?”

  He studied my face, and I wanted to run my hands through his beard. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

  I licked my lips. His gaze moved with the motion. My nipples tightened, and my pulse raced. From just one look.

  “I let you into my home, Cross. I don’t think any other action or word would be a better example of what I’m ready for. Don’t go. Not yet.”

  I wasn’t usually this forward, this…dare I say, brazen. And I liked it. I liked who I was when I was with Cross. I enjoyed how I felt when I was without him, as well. As if he’d unlocked something within me that I just couldn’t grasp. I loved it.

  “I’m going to kiss you again.”

  “You have my permission to kiss me as many times as you want.”

  “Good.”

  And then his lips were on mine. This time, I let my eyes close and I sank into him, my hands trailing up his back, gripping his shoulders as his mouth devoured mine. He seemed to want more, and I wanted more, too. I needed more.

  His lips trailed along my jaw, and I let my head fall back so he could kiss my neck, leaving shivers of sweet temptation all over my body.

  My knees shook, and he led me towards the couch, slowly backing me up so my butt was against the back of the sofa, his mouth on mine.

  Somehow, my jacket was on the floor, and my eyes were still closed. I wanted my mouth on his and my hands on his body. He was just so strong, so hard and broad.

  Everything about him was muscle and strength. A man who knew exactly what he was doing with his hands.

  “You taste amazing,” Cross said, his fingers brushing my hair behind my shoulders.

  “Really?” I had no idea what I was saying, I only knew that I wanted his hands and mouth on me. I wanted to hear his growl of a voice.

  I just wanted him.

  “Really. Now I want to taste you everywhere.”

  I should have blushed. I didn’t. Instead, my hands went to the bottom of my shirt, and I pulled it up. His hands went to mine, stopped me for a moment. For a second, I thought maybe he didn’t want this, that I was moving too fast. Instead, he kissed me again and helped me lift my shirt over my head. I stood there in my shoes and slacks and a bra, feeling far more naked than I actually was.

  “Beautiful,” Cross said, and then he moved to my breasts, kissing them, molding them. When he undid my bra, my breasts fell heavily into his palms. I reached back to hold onto the couch, my head tipping back. He laughed, kissing and gently biting.

  He moved from one to the other, his body close to mine, hot, heated. I wanted more of him, but I loved that he was taking over, and I could just be.

  I didn’t know many other people I could do that with.

  And then he dropped to his knees, and I swallowed hard, my legs shaking.

  “Let me,” he said. He took off my shoes, and then his hands were on my pants.

  “Ready?”

  “For you? Of course.”

  “Good.” And as he tugged down my leggings, the fabric bunching over my butt as he pulled. I let out a shaky breath, finding myself bare except for the tiny scrap of silk on my body.

  “Jesus Christ, I knew you had curves, I knew you were fucking sexy, but damn, Hazel. It’s hard for me to breathe when I look at you.”

  I swallowed hard and looked down at him, his dark hair between my legs, and I almost came right then.

  “What exactly are you going to do now?” I asked, nearly teasing.

  Only there wasn’t anything nearly about it.

  “Exactly what you want me to do.”

  And then he was breathing hot air over my flesh and tugging my panties aside. His mouth was on my pussy, one leg thrown over his shoulder, the other keeping me steady as I gripped the back of the couch.

  My body shook, and his tongue lapped, parting my flesh as he kissed me intimately. I heated from the inside out, my entire body trembling. When he played with my clit, a touch there, a touch here, and his finger slid into me, I couldn’t hold back anymore. The sight of his dark hair against my pale skin was too much. I came, gasping, my nipples hard, a tingling sensation running up my spine.

 
The orgasm flooded me, encompassing me in warmth and racking me with shudders as I leaned against the couch.

  Cross lapped up my orgasm, clearly wanting more. I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t know what to do. And then he was on his feet again, his lips on mine. I came down from my high, tasted myself on his tongue, and tugged at his shirt. I needed more, craved it.

  I had no words, but he seemed to know what I wanted. Thankfully, he knew exactly what I needed.

  He took off his shirt, and I helped him with his pants as he toed off his shoes. We both laughed when he nearly fell over.

  I didn’t know there could be laughter with sex. I didn’t know I needed it.

  Suddenly, he was naked, his hot flesh in my hand as I squeezed the base of him.

  He slid his hand over mine and groaned.

  “You touch me like that, and I’m going to come right on those pretty breasts of yours.”

  My nipples tightened at the words. Those crass, vulgar words that were so fucking hot.

  “And what if I want you to do that?” I asked.

  He crossed his eyes, and I licked my lips.

  “Maybe next time. And don’t even think about putting that pretty, pouty mouth on my dick. I don’t think I could handle it.”

  I pumped his shaft, my fingers not able to touch around his girth.

  I honestly didn’t know how he was going to fit, but I couldn’t wait to try.

  I squeezed my thighs together, aching for him, wondering who the hell this wanton woman was. This wasn’t the Hazel Noble I had always known.

  No, this was a Hazel who took chances. Who went on blind dates and had accidental ones. This was a Hazel who asked for what she wanted and made sure she got it.

  This was the Hazel that had asked Cross over, the one that was going to ride this very large dick.

  I squeezed him again and then ran my hand up his length so I could press my thumb to his slit, spreading his precum. His whole body shook against me, and the power I felt was like nothing I’d ever felt before.