I was just thinking that the fancier start, with the amount of care Bruce gave, was better than casual. But he’s managed to give me an option with both . . . the picnic. A nod to what we used to do, a return to our roots, so to speak, and an opportunity to actually talk, which terrifies me but is what Michelle advised that I do, mixed in with her jokes about sex. And it sounds like he put a lot of work into the picnic and I don’t want that to go to waste.
I hope this is the right decision. I smile and offer my choice. “Let’s do the picnic.”
Bruce’s smile is huge, so opposite to the grumpy asshole I met weeks ago. I like this version better, even though he’s more of a danger to my heart. “It was the chocolate dip, wasn’t it? I know you can’t pass up sweets.”
He does know that. He knows so much about me, but he’s missing a big piece of the puzzle. I try to prepare myself because I know he’s going to ask me some hard questions tonight, and I need to answer them. He’s shared so much with me—his story, his newly expanded family, and his intentions. Meanwhile, I’ve run every chance I got.
“Bring on the chocolate!” I cheer, because I’m done running. It’s silly, but it does the trick and he laughs. The engine roars a bit as we speed up, leaving city center for the outer edge of town.
I know where he’s going. It was always our place, and that awareness sends tingles through me. It’s where we would escape everything to focus on each other, it’s where we said ‘I love you’ the first time, it’s where we both lost our virginity to each other, and it’s where we said goodbye. It’s definitely symbolic for us to have our first date there again. I just hope it’s a good sign.
We drive through a copse of green trees, the very tips of which are starting to hint at the yellow of fall that’s coming quickly. There’s a climb, and then we pop out into a clearing that overlooks all of Great Falls. It’s blessedly empty, other than us, and that sends a fresh round of tingles through me at the possibilities.
Not that I’m letting Michelle’s craziness get to me. Nope, not in the least.
Nor am I thinking about how good Bruce looks all dressed up tonight, or how hot he looks all sweaty at practice in baggy athletic shorts, or how sexy he was when he delivered that watermelon water with his abs on display. And I’m definitely not thinking about how his kisses alone have led me to take matters into my own hands, even after he fingered me to that earth-shattering orgasm.
Nope, just a date. Dinner and talking. That’s it.
I don’t believe it, either. But a girl’s gotta have goals. They’ve been my saving grace over the last few years and might keep me making good choices for the next few hours.
“Stay there,” he instructs me as he gets out. He comes around, opening my door and helping me down. He’s not doing it because this is a date. Bruce always did things like that. He might look like a big beast of a man, but Mrs. Martha taught him right and he’s got manners and always treated me well. It’s good to know that hasn’t changed, especially since my appreciation for it has grown.
He leads me to the back of the truck and holds out a hand for me to wait while he gets to work. In minutes, he’s turned the bed of the truck into a luxurious spread with a thick egg crate cushion covered with a soft blanket. He moves a cooler from the backseat into the bed and then examines his work. It looks pretty, nice and cozy.
Satisfied, he turns and offers me a hand. I take it, and he pulls me close, his hands going to my waist. “Hop up.”
He helps me sit on the tailgate, and then his hands catch my right foot, where he unfastens the ankle strap of my sandal. It feels oddly intimate, and my breath catches. He notices, his thumb tracing along my arch before he slips the left one off too.
“Scoot back.” He lifts his chin toward the cab, indicating for me to climb into the truck bed. He shucks his boots too and follows me. I notice that even his socks are pristine tonight, and it makes me all the more tingly inside.
Yes, I’m getting turned on by socks. I really do need help.
“Hungry?” he rumbles, and I don’t think he’s talking about those sandwiches, but my stomach answers anyway. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He opens the cooler, handing me a thick foil square. He sets one down for himself too and then pours wine into plastic cups.
“Ooh, fancy,” I tease, holding up the cup before taking a small sip. “Good, though.”
“Katelyn told me what to buy,” he admits. “She works at the resort and knows all about that stuff. But I have other talents.”
He’s flirting again. I make a quick call that I like it and play along. “You do have some big talents.”
He seems pleased with my favorable response, which breaks the tension as we both grin and dive into the sandwiches.
Somehow, it all goes okay. I don’t say anything weird, he doesn’t press me, and we talk about everything and nothing, laughing and flirting, the thread of connection that had been snapped between us comfortably knitting itself back together strand by strand as the sun goes down and the sky turns indigo. Stars begin to twinkle, and the air gets the slightest chill, celebrating that fall is coming soon.
Having thought of everything, Bruce grabs a light blanket and lays it over our laps before pulling me to his side and wrapping an arm around me. He’s a big furnace, warming me instantly. Though that might not be entirely because he runs so hot but rather because his body is hard to my softness, making me all too aware of him.
He seems unaffected, or at least is pretending to be, as he simply snuggles with me, eyes on the sky.
After a while, I can feel his arms tense around me, hugging me tight. “I missed this,” he whispers into my hair, and goosebumps break out along my skin. It’s a confession on his part, highlighting how amazing the evening has been. It was always comfortable and easy with Bruce, and tonight feels like we slipped right back into that groove together.
That time and space where there was an us. Or maybe where there is an us.
I owe him more than I’ve given so far. I know that, even as I loathe dipping into the past. I have fought those demons into boxes, their own personal prison cells. I wrapped them in layers of tape and shoved the stacks of them away into the recesses of my mind. But for him, maybe I can take off a single layer of tape, not on the biggest, ugliest monsters, but on the little ones? He deserves that.
“After we . . .” I don’t finish the sentence. He knows what I mean. I go for the ‘after’ instead. “I was devastated, shattered. College was hard for me, Bruce. I was nervous, but I don’t think I ever considered it would be what it was. I pictured going to class, studying in the quad under a tree like some stupid pamphlet picture. I thought my roommate and me would be best friends and it would all be so easy. It wasn’t, not by a long shot.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his support, his strength. He’s letting me do this at my own pace.
“My roommate hated me on sight, called me a Barbie Bitch just because I was a blonde cheerleader. She made my dorm life hell, turned a lot of the girls against me from the get-go. But I made a few friends in my pre-law classes. We were all so busy, though, and the competition is fierce, so even the people I called friends would bail when I did better on a test than they did. It was lonely, and I lived for those Friday phone calls.”
“I’m sorry, Al.” He sounds truly remorseful, but it’s not on him. We both made mistakes and should’ve just talked to one another.
I duck down deeper into his side, my cheek against his chest as I confess. “After, I was vulnerable. I didn’t realize it at the time, but Jeremy took advantage of that.” He goes tense, and I can feel a slight vibration in his chest. He’s growling at my statement. “No, no . . . not like that.”
“He just . . .” I search for the words. “He liked me weak. It gave him a chance to save me, to be the hero.” Such a simple statement, but it took me a long time to recognize that truth. “We were happy for a while. He did help me get over you, in a way. But it was because he seemed
safe.”
I laugh ironically at how not-safe Jeremy really was, but I’m not digging out that particular box, not tonight and maybe not ever.
“Safe?” Bruce asks. “Did you feel unsafe with me?” I know he’s talking about his size, about the nickname he earned on the field, about how people expected him to be this monster off the field too.
I shake my head, sitting up to look in his eyes. It’s dark, but this close, I can see the reflection of the moon in the blackness. He looks hurt. “No, I always felt safe with you. Jeremy, he was safe emotionally. I liked him, I even loved him for a while, but not like you. I wasn’t in love with him like I was with you, and I think that was one of the things I liked about him. Jeremy and I just got stuck. Because of Cooper.”
I settle back against him, and his hand caresses up and down my arm, soothing me so I can do this. “We got married because I was pregnant, and I changed my major so I could be a paralegal. It was all coming together, not exactly what I’d planned, but I could see that it had the potential to be a good life. Jeremy had very specific ideas about what our life was supposed to look like, though, and we fought about that a lot. It wasn’t pretty, and sometimes, he didn’t treat me well,” I say carefully.
Bruce is a smart man, despite his fears to the contrary, and he’s always been attuned to my every thought and reaction, so I need to walk this fine line carefully or I’m going to end up pulling out every demon-stuffed box and letting him peruse through my damage.
His voice is tight. “What do you mean, he ‘didn’t treat you well’?”
I have no doubt that Bruce would beat the ever-loving fuck out of Jeremy at my slightest word, and I don’t want that. I’ve moved on, or at least I am moving on, day by day, minute by minute, consciously challenging the now-rare occasion when I hear Jeremy’s voice in my mind spouting ugliness.
I shake my head, not wanting to get into that. “I’m good now, and that’s all that matters. He’s out of my life, out of Cooper’s life. We got divorced when Cooper was two and half, so he barely remembers Jeremy. The papers are sealed and he gave up parental rights. He’s gone, which is exactly what I want. I wouldn’t change any of it, not even what happened between you and me, because whatever twisted path I went on, it got me that little boy, and he’s my everything. We’re happy, just the two of us.”
But could there be more? a new voice whispers.
No, not a new voice. An old one . . . my own. I am happy with our little family of two, but maybe Bruce and Michelle and even my own quiet hopes are right and I could have more. I could have Bruce.
Chapter 21
Bruce
I can hear the blood roaring through my veins, a dull constant in my ears at her saying her ex didn’t treat her well. I can read between the lines, and I know she’s making it seem like less than it was. I can hear it in the small way she said he liked her weak.
This is the shadow that haunts her, the thing that stole her easy smile. I suspected it was something to do with her ex, but not this, not that he took this beautiful woman and broke her. I want her to fly even more after hearing the little bit she shared. Because there’s more, of that I’m sure.
She’s right about one thing, though. “I’m glad you’re happy, Al. That’s all I want, all I ever wanted. I know we both thought it would be with each other from high school on, and our lives would look so different if that’s how it’d played out, but this detour . . . I think we can get back on track, if you want that too.”
I’m not trying to put pressure on her. I’ve already told her I’m willing to do anything she wants, from no-strings casual to as serious as a diamond ring on her pretty little finger. But she gets to decide our next step, especially after what she just divulged. I want her to know deep in her heart that I want her strong, that I want us to be partners.
I’m usually sort of an alpha caveman myself, but I like the fiery side Allyson always had. Al needs this power right now, and I know I need her strong too. It takes a strong woman to handle Brutal Tannen.
She’s quiet for a long time, both of us staring up at the sky. I don’t know about her, but I don’t really see the stars. I’m seeing us, the years we missed, the sadness that haunted us both, the journey we went on without one another but still converged into this moment.
Like we’re meant to be.
“Michelle told me something tonight. At the time, I thought she was crazy, but I think she might be right.” She’s rushing the words, but in the dark, I can’t tell if she’s excited or nervous without seeing her.
“What did she say?” I ask cautiously.
“This is a date, but not it’s not really like it’s our first date because of . . . everything.” She’s hemming and hawing, which only makes me that much more interested in what she’s trying so hard to say. “So, if it’s not really a first date, it wouldn’t be bad for us to do . . . not-first-date things.”
Her tone is heavy with meaning that even a stupid fucker like me can decipher. I’m surprised that’s where she’s going, especially considering the deeper thoughts that’d been playing through my own mind, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I move fast, pulling her across my lap so that we’re face to face, her thighs straddling my hips. Like there’s actually a god looking out for us, the moon comes out from behind a cloud and I can see her pretty clearly. She’s nibbling at her bottom lip, and though it’s too dark to tell for sure, I get the distinct impression that she’s blushing.
“Say it, Al. Tell me exactly what you want. Be real fucking sure about what you say, though, because you know I’ll give you anything.” She means sex. I truly mean anything.
“I want you to . . .” Her spine straightens as she finds her spirit. “I want you to fuck me, Bruce. Hard and rough, like I’m not some fragile thing that’s broken inside. I want to forget the years in between us then and us now. Fuck me, Bruce.”
She gathered steam as she spoke, her voice steady and more confident, her needs and desires laid bare. It’s sexy as fuck to hear her tell me to fuck her, but the thought that she feels fragile breaks my heart. She’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. The urge to hunt her asshole ex down flashes though me again but is quickly washed away by the urgency of what she’s asking.
This will be the first time we ever have sex without being in love and that’s fucking with my head.
No, I correct myself. We’re just not in love yet. But I do love her, or the idea of her, of us. And I promised her I could handle this, would let her lead and give her whatever she needs to find herself, especially after her story highlighted just how lost she’s been. This is the dance of my life, two-stepping for our life, the one we could have together. But it starts here.
It’s definitely not a bad gig, tasting her sweetness again, working her body until she’s drunk on me the way I’m already drunk on her.
I want more, but I’ll greedily take what she has to offer for now and hope she finds what she’s looking for fast because I already have.
Her.
I shut down my heart and focus on what she’s willing to do. I won’t push her for more, not when I can give her what she wants.
I cup her jawline firmly and drop my voice down, letting the gravel wash over her and giving her the filthy words I know turn her on. “You want me to fuck you, baby? Kiss you . . .” I press my lips to hers. “Suck your tits . . .” I let one hand drop to squeeze her breast, my thumb stroking over the hard nipple I can feel through her dress. “Lick that clit . . . and stretch your tight little pussy with my cock? That what you want?”
I buck beneath her, letting her feel the already hard ridge of my cock against her molten core.
The air has gone steamy between us, the cool of the evening licking along our skin, and Allyson moans. Somewhere in the long syllable, I hear her yes, but I need to be clear.
“Look at me, Al.” She blinks slowly, fighting through a haze of desire to focus. “Are you sure? I need you to be one hun
dred percent certain because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop with how badly I want you. Fuck, I want inside your sexy body, that sweet pussy.” I’m growling, but I can’t help it. “Be sure, Allyson.”
It’s almost a beg, for her body, for her heart.
She surprises the absolute hell out of me, doing something that once upon a time I wouldn’t have given a second thought, but I know how out-of-character it is for her now. She pulls her dress right over her head, baring herself to me in only a lacy blue bra and panty set.
“Fuck. Me.”
She might not’ve planned for this to happen tonight, and I would’ve gladly looked my fill of her in granny panties and a plain bra, but like this? She’s absolutely stunning. Breathtaking.
While I’ve been gobsmacked, she’s been unhesitatingly working at the buttons of my shirt, letting me know that she’s not having any second thoughts. Once she gets it open, I pull it off and yank her to me.
Her skin feels like silk against mine. I grip her hair, feeling the strands weave through my fingers as I direct her head back, exposing her neck. I lay a long line of wet kisses down the curve, tasting her racing pulse.
I murmur against her, “Take your bra off. Show me.”
I might have let her be in charge of getting us here, but now, this is my show. It’s the way we’ve always liked it. I’m bossy and foul-mouthed, and she gets off on it, knowing that I’m watching her every nuanced reaction to guide us somewhere amazing.
She reaches back, making quick work of the hooks, and then shrugs the lacy scrap off. I hold her ribs, arching her back and pressing her nipples toward my mouth. They’re pearled up in need and probably from the chill a bit too, but I warm them up quickly. I suckle at her hard, drawing her deep into my mouth and then letting go with a pop to swirl my tongue in circles. She cries out, her hand going to her mouth to muffle the echoing sound.
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