I suppose you think I ran straight back into Dev’s arms the minute we laid Reese to rest. But that isn’t how it happened. Not in the least bit . . .
Three years after Reese’s death
I clean off the cake plates and messy plastic forks from the dining room table as Sam pulls down the purple streamers hanging from the ceiling.
Entertaining eight rambunctious three-year-olds can really take it out of you. We stuff everything in the black garbage bag and exchange a relieved expression. We made it.
It doesn’t matter how trying the afternoon was, though. I would do anything for that busy little girl who’s wearing her favorite lavender party dress, making a new mess of the toys I just picked up.
“Good job, sweetheart.” Sam places an arm around me as we spy on Dev putting together Cici’s new Power Wheel in the family room. It doesn’t look like it’s being cooperative. He has the screwdriver in his mouth and a puzzled expression on his face.
“C’mon, Dev. You made it through medical school. A child’s toy should be no problem,” Sam teases him. He looks up at us with only his eyes, not amused by her sarcasm in the least bit.
“It’s a good thing you carry a gun.” I nudge her. “If looks could kill.” I move toward the entryway to carry out the trash.
“He doesn’t scare me.” She laughs, just as I exit the front door.
Once outside, I inhale sharply. The crisp January air stinging my lungs. It snowed last night, so a blanket of white dust covers the trees and front lawn. I revel in the prickly sensation of the cold. Sometimes I need the painful reminder. The painful reminder I’m not the one who died. I drop the bag in the can and prolong my return inside.
My entire life changed in a blink of an eye.
For a second time, a motorcycle claimed the life of someone I loved, and for a second time, I watched helplessly as they died in my arms. No amount of CPR could stop the impending end. I watched Reese take his last breath as I tried desperately to give him mine. My worst fear had materialized. The father of my child was taken way too soon. I became a widow at twenty-seven and lost all direction. For eight months I drifted, trying to come to terms, trying to find my way.
I didn’t find clarity until the fateful day Cici came into my life, a small, determined little bundle who decided to make her grand appearance in the middle of a major snowstorm. That was fun. But the minute they placed her in my arms, she became my sole purpose. My brave new world.
Reese in his infinite wisdom (or paranoia, take your pick) drafted a will shortly after we were married. He divided his fortune evenly between Dev and me. I never bothered to ask him about the bottom line of his bank account because it didn’t really matter, but when the lawyer handed over the documentation, I was steamrolled. The collective years of racing and endorsements proved obscenely profitable. And although I felt guilty accepting the money because we had only been married a few short months, I knew he would want his daughter taken care of. So besides buying a house for her to grow up in and a new, reliable car, I put the majority of the money in a trust fund. We have enough, and we’re happy.
For the most part.
I walk back into the house with a chill running down my spine. Everything seems to have fallen into place except one burdensome, unaddressed issue.
I find Reese, or as we affectionately call her, Cici, crawling all over Dev as he persistently tries to tackle the plastic motorcycle.
“Maybe you need to go back to medical school.” It’s my turn to poke fun as I peel Cici from his lap.
“Not funny. I will figure this out.”
“It looks like Fisher Price threw up in here.” I allude to all the plastic pieces spread out over the rug.
“Everything has its place,” Dev muses, knee-deep in concentration. It actually makes me laugh. He’s not even this focused at work.
“Well, while you wrestle with the Power Wheel, I’m going to give the birthday girl a bath and put her to bed.”
That gets Dev’s attention. He looks up at me and actually pouts. “That’s my job.”
Technically, no, but Dev has been part of Cici’s life from the very beginning. He was even in the freakin’ delivery room. They share a bond no one can deny, and although it was incredibly painful to watch him hold her in the beginning, I couldn’t take that happiness away from him. Do you have any idea what it feels like to mourn a man and still see his face every single day? To watch his twin hold his child, and wish beyond any and all wishes it was him?
To still love that same brother as much now as you did before? Even after everything. Entangled emotions like that can warp a person. They warped me.
So I stepped back and closed myself off, allowing the love between Cici and Dev to grow while mine stayed fossilized in place.
“You want to switch?” I offer a trade, the kid for the bike.
“Yes.” Dev bounds to his feet, taking the little dark-haired beauty without hesitation.
Cici squeals with excitement. He spoils her, and she knows she has a long playtime in the tub coming.
“Godspeed,” I bless him as he walks off with her.
“Same to you.” He tosses her in the air as he disappears up the stairs, her screams of enthusiasm echoing through the house. I drop to my knees, ready to tackle the cycle of death. It should be less stressful than bath time.
“Want some help?” Sam offers, kneeling next to me.
“Where were you?” I ask, reading over the directions.
“Pulling the rest of the tape off the ceiling.” She holds up a wad.
“Did we use that much?”
“Apparently.”
“Whoops.” I giggle.
“Yeah, whoops.” She tosses it at me. “Do you want some help or not?”
“Nah, I’m good. I know you have more exciting places to be.” I bump her shoulder with mine.
She stifles an embarrassed smile. Sam has a boyfriend. First one in ages. Big, husky, state trooper. Mega manly and hot. And younger. She’s a total cougar.
“No place is more exciting than here with you and my niece.”
“Yeah, right!” I scoff. “I have eyes. I have seen Barron. And the way you two look at each other. Fire alarms go off.”
“Sort of like the same way you and Dev look at each other?”
I pause all movement, wishing she didn’t go there.
“Dev and I have a history. But we’re friends now,” I inform her sullenly. “Besides, he has a girlfriend.” Some wench named Eileen. Total biker bunny trash not even worth the dirt on his tires.
“Honey, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He has a girl to keep his bed warm. That man is waiting for you.”
“No, he’s not,” I disagree, my heart squeezing.
“Yes, he is. You can lie to yourself all you want. He’s wanted you from the very beginning. Only you, despite what transpired with Reese.”
“He hurt me.” It’s a lame excuse.
“You know what I think? He was hurting. I told you what the three of you were involved in was risky. I wish I was wrong. I cared about Reese, too, but don’t deny yourself love just because of what happened in the past. Look at what’s happening in the present.”
I hate that she’s right. Dev devotes all his free time to Cici and me. He’d rather be with us than anyone else. And as much as I try to ignore it, to tell myself the friend zone is enough, we both know it’s not. Because when we’re alone, the electricity is there. It never disappeared, even when Reese was alive. I always said I would love them both for the rest of my life, and it wasn’t a lie. I just don’t know how to cross back over that threshold. I have Cici to think about now, and how much she loves the man who bathes her and plays with her and spoils her rotten. Who reads Winnie the Pooh to her whenever she asks, which is all the damn time. I would never want to jeopardize what they have. But I don’t want to miss my window of opportunity, either. And it’s closing fast. I see it every day. He moves a little farther away from me and closer to the woman who warms his bed.
Love two men. Marry one, but spend your life with the other. How twisted can one relationship possibly be? Ours turned into a labyrinth of emotion I’m still trying to navigate.
“Think about what I said, okay?” Sam gives me a squeeze before she stands up. “I’m going to get laid.”
“Ewww,” I joke, envious as hell. “At least someone is.”
“I don’t have to be the only one,” she croons, turning her eyes skywards.
I sit on my knees and watch her leave, tumultuously conflicted.
Surprisingly, I put Cici’s bike put together in record time. Why was this so difficult for Dev? I just followed the diagrams. Men.
With the extra time, I sit on the stairs and listen to him put Cici to bed. He reads two books and even sings as she flip flops to sleep. Bedtime is the worst. She has so much energy, it takes her forever to wind down. I feel his pain, but he seems a glutton for punishment because he’s the one who puts her down every time he’s here.
I stare out the dark, front windows. It’s barely eight o’clock, but it feels like midnight. Our modest home is in a newer development, but still country enough—no streetlights or sidewalks, the closest neighbor a quarter of an acre away.
I hear Cici’s door close, and Dev’s light footsteps descend the stairs.
“Finally asleep.” He sighs as he slips by me.
“Tenacious, that one,” I comment.
“Just like her mother.” Dev swipes his leather jacket from the banister.
I idly wonder if that response is a criticism or a compliment.
“Big plans tonight?” I pry as he slides on his jacket. He looks hotter than hell in worn jeans, black long-sleeve shirt, and shit kickers.
“Um . . .” He fixes his collar. “I’m going out. Yeah,” he relays vaguely.
I rock back and forth, still seated on the stairs. “That’s good.”
Dev, sensing my unrest, stands directly in front of me, placing his hands on his hips. God, when I really look at him, like really stare, I see every part of him that I love. His strong stance, ruggedly beautiful face, and unwavering confidence that crosses over into arrogance every now and again.
“Kayla, is everything okay? Is there something you want to talk about?”
I peer up at him and his inquisitive—more like anatomizing—expression.
“No.” I fucking chicken out.
“You sure?” he probes.
“Yes.” I’m so antsy I can’t stop wringing my hands together. Just tell him! Say something!
“Okay.” He steps back, suspiciously. “You know I’m here—” He’s interrupted by the beeping of his phone. He pulls it out of his pocket and reads the message. He types a quick reply, then shoves it away. “Eileen. She’s waiting for me,” he says, suddenly in a hurry.
Just the mere mention of that skank’s name, and my jealousy erupts like a geyser.
“Dev!” I snatch his hand abruptly as he turns to leave. The tension in our touch is palpable. He slowly faces me with a disconcerting air. I ignore the pounding in my chest, as we stare silently, the house shaking with emotional turbulence.
I refuse to let go as I search frantically for something to say. Anything. I just want him to . . .
“Stay . . .” I plead, sincerely.
Dev’s features contort, no longer stiff with confusion, but softening now with what? Alleviation? Abatement? Want? Desire? Was I wrong to open this door? The look in his penetrating blue eyes is suppressive. He’s deliberating. His breathing becoming heavier as we float silently through the unknown. But we do know. We’ve always known. We know each other. We just have to work our way back again. To that scary, exhilarating, thrilling place where we were once madly in love. His eyes drop to my lips for a quarter of a second before he pounces on me, pinning my body to the stairs. Our lips linger a fraction of a millimeter apart, his pelvis smashed against mine. We’re so close. A familiar warmth spreads through my body, vividly reminding me of the way he feels and the way he tastes. I’m stiff beneath him, awaiting his next move.
“If I stay, I’m never leaving.” He dangles the ultimatum between our hungry mouths. “I’m not just going to get you off, then walk away.”
I splinter in a thousand different directions. This is our one moment of truth, and if I refuse, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, I’ll not only have lost Reese, but Dev, too.
“I never want you to leave again.” I swallow my pride, my fear, my guilt, and all my reservations. This is my last shot, and I’m taking it.
I close the illusory space between us because even though we’ve been separated, we’ve never really been apart.
We connect in a kiss so deep, so hot, so impassioned, our jaws stretch, and our tongues twirl in rapturous revolutions. I latch onto the lapel of his leather jacket, imprisoning him against me.
I need this man like I need air—I need him physically, I need him spiritually, and I need him emotionally. Sam was right. I do need taking care of, as much as I hate to admit it, and Dev will do that. He always has.
We grind against each other as the heat between us rises, the ache I’ve suppressed for three years charging to the surface.
I rip Dev’s jacket off as his urgent hands pull at my leggings.
We tear at each other’s clothes right in the middle of the foyer, heady breaths mingling as we fight to stay connected. It all happens so fast and furiously, my hand jerking Dev’s cock as he fingers me forcefully.
“I fucking need you. I need you right now.” I don’t even try to play coy. My desire is apparent and pulsating through every limb.
Dev moans as our mouths mash together, his pulsing cock stabbing into me, stretching me, filling me with one solid blow.
“Fuck!” I see stars as my pussy latches onto his thick hard length. It’s been so long. So fucking long, and I’m so fucking wet and desperate and needy.
“God, Kayla.” He circles his hips, blatantly feeling my expansive want.
“Please, don’t stop.” I close my eyes and absorb every single spine-tingling thrust.
“Never.” Dev drives deeper, his cock thickening with each passing second he’s inside me. “I’m never going to stop. I missed you . . . I love you . . .” he murmurs over and over. “You’ve always been the one . . .” His sentences are broken with each physical exertion, but they affect me nonetheless. They’re everything I’ve been dying to hear. A clash of sensation erupts as a blunt, primal, barbaric claiming takes place. Dev pounding into me, suffocating my screams with his mouth.
It’s sweet fucking affliction as my body succumbs, tightening, tensing. My muscles nearly ripping as I close in on the brink. My core catching fire seconds before the shock of the release.
“Dev, Dev.” His name becomes a tortured whisper with every hammering thrust.
“I’m right here.” He locks me in his arms as my nervous system comes to a screeching halt, my pussy clenching painfully as one raging gush alleviates three years of pent-up hostility. The sound that escapes my mouth is shrill, and for a few elongated, euphoric seconds, I’m a paralyzed vessel of erogenous pleasure.
“Kayla?” Dev mutters my name. His body stiff, still. Plastered against me.
“Mmm hmm,” I heave, fluttering my eyelashes as he clutches my face. The two of us sweating, panting and shaking, slowly recovering from the fuck-filled frenzy.
One look is all it takes, one reconnecting, reviving, reawakening look from Dev, and I bleed with emotion.
Fresh tears form.
“Kayla, don’t.” He drops a loving kiss on my lips. But I can’t help it. What just happened, it was agonizing relief.
“I missed you so much. I miss both of you so much.” I sob against him, hiding my face. I’ve been suffering since the moment he left, and I can’t contain the desolation any longer.
“I know. I’m sorry.” He hugs me tight, peppering kisses wherever he can. “You know Reese didn’t set you up for failure. He knew what he was doing. He knew in the end, it would always be you and me.”
If Dev had said that to me four years ago, I never would have believed him, but knowing what I do now, he’s right. It was always supposed to be us.
“I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I walked away. But I meant what I said, I’m never leaving. Ever again.” He wipes some wetness away with the pad of his thumb.
“Good, because I’ll have a very angry three-year-old on my hands if you do.” I laugh through my tears.
“No one wants that.” He smirks.
“No,” I agree.
“Let’s go to bed, butterfly.” He nips at my lips. “I have a lot of time to make up for.” He kisses me indulgently, circling his tongue and his hips, his semi-hard cock still buried deep inside me. “I’m going to make you come all night.”
My pussy involuntarily clenches, surrendering to just the sound of his husky voice. I willingly hand myself over, eager for Dev and all his dark desires.