Chapter Twenty-Six
Libby
His hands were all over my body, and still I couldn’t get enough of him. The moment he led me to the stairs, I knew I was done for. My hands trembled, and he looked down at me, the expression in his eyes dark and possessive, and so full of desire that my throat went dry. He smiled, masculine and fully understanding the effect he had on me, as my knees buckled. I gripped the rail and pressed on, beating him to the top by a full step.
“Hold on there, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice full of amusement. I leaned against the opposite rail, and looked down on the friends and family gathered below.
“We showed up, and everyone came in from the fields and everything. Poor Kristy must feel so outnumbered.” I watched them longer than I needed to, just to get my bearing back.
“Yeah, she looks terrified,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I rolled my eyes at him, but he was right. Kennedy was sharing Kristy’s lap with Olivia, who had taken to her instantly. Her little face had glowed like Christmas morning when I explained that the young woman was “Aunt Kristy” because she’d been married to Andrew.
“You loved Daddy like us!” She’d exclaimed, and to our credit, we’d both waited until she pranced back out of the room to cry.
“She is so amazing with Olivia. Could you have imagined us here, like this?” I asked. He took my hand and gently pulled me away from the railing, toward his bedroom. He paused when we were past the open area and hidden from the family below.
“I’ve imagined something like this,” he chuckled, one hand stroking down my back to the curve of my bottom. I glared at him and he grinned, tugging me against his body, so I could feel him, hard and ready, pressed against my stomach. My tongue was sawdust in my mouth as I started to think about what, exactly, he imagined for us. He ran his thumb over the thin skin of my wrist and pressed against the pounding pulse beneath.
“You know what I meant,” I argued. He let go of my wrist and slid his hand over my breast, his palm warm through the thin fabric of my t-shirt. He kissed me again, squeezing the soft globe in his hand as his tongue slid past my teeth to taste me.
“I know what you meant.” His voice was low and full of need and the fire he lit in me was stoked to a flame, responding to his desire.
“You wanted a shower?” I managed to squeak out. “We probably should take care of that.” He dropped his mouth to my neck and flicked his tongue over it, making me gasp and shudder against him.
He backed into the nearest bedroom and swung the door shut behind me. I had just enough time to hope it was his room, before his hands bunched up the hem of my shirt and lifted it up to under my arms. I let him pull it off over my head, and he stared into my eyes as he undid my pants, his hand sliding down the front to tease and stroke me. I whimpered and trembled, and he kissed me, before kneeling in front of me and slowly pulling my jeans down over my hips.
His hand pressed against the front of me, then slid between my legs, stroking over the sheer lace of my panties. My legs were rubber, and when I trembled at his touch, he braced me with his other hand, and stroked harder, until the panties were wet through. Only then did he remove them, sliding his fingers under the sides and slid them down over my legs.
“Um, Tucker, there are so many people downstairs,” I argued breathlessly as he kissed the insides of my thighs, leaving hot, wet circles behind to cool under his breath.
“That’s why we came upstairs before I started taking your clothes off,” he chuckled. I bit my lip and glanced toward the door again, and he sighed. “Don’t move. I’ll lock the door. The one person who might come looking for you is the last one we want seeing us.” I crossed my arms and he locked the door and spun around as if I would have disappeared.
“Don’t worry, I’m still naked,” I laughed. He unbuttoned his shirt as he advanced toward me, a predatory look in his eyes.
“Not quite naked,” he corrected. He dropped his shirt on the floor and undid his fly. He took my hand and slipped it into the front of his jeans, where I found him as hard and ready for me as he’d felt when he’d been pressed against me. He slid the straps of my bra down my arms, but I held it in place, and tugged at the waist of his jeans. If he expected me to get naked, then I wanted to see more of him, first.
The jeans hit the floor, followed by the boxer briefs, and I unclasped the bra between my breasts and let it fall on top of the pile of clothes we’d created. I looked down the length of his muscular chest and stomach, down the soft trail of light brown hair that pointed at his hard, straight erection. Despite hours behind the desk, he worked out hard enough to stay as fit as he had been in college, and every time I saw him, I was just as amazed at how much I wanted him. Every time he touched me, it felt like we were about to make love for the first time.
I let him see the hunger in my eyes before I closed the space between us and kissed him, my breasts pressed against the curls on his chest, his shaft pressed upright between my pelvis and his hard abdomen. I drew his face down to me and brushed his mouth with mine, the way he always did to me. I licked my lips and deepened the kiss as his lips parted to let my tongue explore the warm cavern of his mouth. Tucker reached behind me and cupped my rear with both hands, lifting me. My legs automatically wrapped around his waist, and I whimpered into his mouth as the softest part of me slid against his erection.
He carried me to the bed and laid me on my back, moving his hips as he leaned over me, so that he slid between my wet silken folds, and my whimpers turned to moans. I tilted my hips, trying to slide that hot, hard rod of flesh into me, and he laughed softly, holding himself back until I begged.
“Tucker, we can’t be gone too long. Please, Sugar, please, I need you.” My voice was breathless and weak, and all I could think about was getting as close to him as I could, to feel him in me and all over my skin, renewing the tang of sweat he’d brought in from the field.
“Do you need me, Libby-my-love?” he asked, pinning me to the bed while he simultaneously kept me from sheathing him inside me. I pressed myself into the bed as I stared into his face, the lust replaced by vulnerability I hadn’t considered as I’d held him at arms’ length since he’d first come to my bed.
“I do need you, Tucker. I may wish I didn’t, but I do. I want you,” I gasped, as he lowered his body to mine and the head of him pressed against my moist, quivering muscles without driving any further in. “I want you, all the time,” I admitted, and he drove himself into me, almost bringing me with one, hard thrust, as I tightened my legs around him and held his hips against me.
“Libby, God, you’re so tight,” He gasped, trying to move his hips and pull out of me.
“Don’t move yet. I’ve been thinking about this so much, I just want to hold you.” He acquiesced and settled for the tiny rocking motion of my hips, while he kissed me deeply. His tongue in my mouth and his lips and teeth on my neck drove me half mad with need, and my body started to rock on him of its own volition. With him inside me, his kisses were enough to push me over the edge, and the orgasm crested and set my body on fire. His mouth clamped over mine to swallow my scream of ecstasy, until I was just a trembling, pool of sated lust under him on the mattress.
He moved me further up the bed so my head was on a pillow, and he set a new rhythm, as he knelt and ran his hands over my body, watching the pink flesh that clung to him with every thrust. His hand went to my low abdomen, and his eyes closed as his thumb rubbed over the nub, nestled at the base of the tight curls above the “V” of my legs.
I clutched at him as I felt my pleasure building again, and he opened his eyes to watch another orgasm overtake me. His eyes went dark as he let his body fall over mine, his chest rubbing over me as he moved inside me, and he pressed his cheek to mine and kissed m jaw between kisses and nips to my jaw.
“Libby, I love you,” he murmured in my ear as he thrust with a steady, solid rhythm. I wrapped my legs tight around him and dug my fingernails into his shoulders and back as I clung to him, clasping tight with the muscles inside, to hold him in me.
“Say it again,” I panted as he shuddered, his heart pounding against my breasts.
“I love… you,” he growled, pushing hard into me, and holding himself there. I held him tight with my whole body, embracing him inside me as he pulsed and throbbed.
“I love you, too, Tucker James.” He gently collapsed onto me, letting me hold most of his weight while I clung to him, still squeezing down around him, trying to suspend us in the moment if possible. He chuckled and rolled us to the side, so we were facing each other, and he wouldn’t crush me under him.
“You smell like sex and sweaty man,” he teased as he rubbed my back and the leg that was still slung over his waist.
“You’re lucky I didn’t just tell you to get in the shower. I’d be back downstairs right now,” I retorted, then sighed. “We do this part well, don’t we?” I felt him stiffen and he pulled away, backing to the edge of the bed, and staring at me.
“Really, Libby? Right back to that? Damn it, when are you going to let yourself see that we do it all well.” He sat up and I stared at his back at the angry red lines that had yet to fade from my fingernails etching my rapture into his skin. “We do dinner in the kitchen well, and hard work, and making Olivia feel safe and happy. There is so much right about us together, that the only thing that seems wrong is the way you see me.” He stood and paced toward the bathroom, shaking his head, and keeping his back to me.
“Tucker, I’m sorry,” I said, my voice catching as I tried not to cry.
“I don’t want you to be sorry, anymore,” he replied, “I want you to open your eyes and see that—that I may not be the perfection you’re looking for, but I am doing my best to be a decent human being, and I deserve credit for that. I’m not a monster, Libby. I don’t hurt or use people.” He looked over his shoulder and I could see his eyes were red rimmed and glassy. “And I’m not your booty call. So, this? This is over. I am your friend, whether you believe me, or not. But not like this.” He disappeared into the bathroom, and I flung his blanket over me and cried, humiliated that I had hurt him and made him feel used.
I waited until he came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and he found me sitting on the end of the bed, my clothes in my arms, shielding me from his sight.
“I don’t know where my room is, may I please use your shower?” He nodded and stepped to one side, letting me past. Once I was inside, he stepped up behind me, and I glanced at him in the mirror, wide eyed, hoping he wasn’t angry anymore. He didn’t touch me, but took a towel out of the cabinet below the vanity and set it on the counter.
“You’ll need this,” he said quietly, and turned to go. I dropped my clothes and touched his arm, and electricity jolted through my fingers into him, making him jerk. “I know. You’re sorry. Don’t worry about it, Libby. It’s better that we know where we stand.” His eyes met mine in the still-foggy mirror, then he left me alone with the clean, fresh smell of his soap and a complete understanding of how screwed up I still was.
I showered quickly, getting clean and dried in record time. My hair went back in a slick ponytail, and when I cleared the fresh layer of steam I’d added from the mirror, I almost couldn’t tell I’d been crying. Tucker deserved better than I was giving him. My chest compressed my heart and lungs, and a sick feeling sank heavily to the pit of my stomach. I looked myself in the eye in the mirror, and I hated what I saw. I’d been selfish and thoughtless, taking everything he gave me and giving him only suspicion and ingratitude in return. Gratitude was the crux of it. He had never asked me to debase myself to him, not like Andrew had.
Showing Tucker I was grateful, and that I appreciated all he did and wanted to do for me wasn’t weakness. But how could I do that without looking like an abuser? I’d been begged for forgiveness, only to have it bite me in the face. I had to make Tucker see that I saw him, the friend who had always been there for me, through the best and worst in my life. I fingered the necklace I wore with my mother’s wedding ring on it. Andrew had hated that I wore it on a chain, and I’d had to hide it under my clothes when we were married. I’d started wearing it again, to make me brave, after Carl had come looking for Kristy. Now, it gave me an idea of how I could make it up to Tucker for being such an idiot. If there was any making up we could do now.