Chapter Ten
Ella quietly unlocked the front door to the house she’d grown up in and stepped inside the living room, where Betsy was reading a book on the couch. Since the older woman was alone and it was after ten, Ella assumed that her father had already turned in for the night.
Betsy closed her book and Ella smiled at the other woman. “Thanks for staying with my dad again. It was nice to get out for a while.” And it had been nice and fun and relaxing, until Kyle had shown up and not only tried to start a pissing contest with Tucker, but then he’d provoked her into breaking her own damn rules about them being friends.
God, she was so weak when it came to him.
“Anytime, dear. You know that.” Betsy stood and gathered her purse and the knitting bag she always brought with her. “But your father is more than capable of taking care of himself and really doesn’t need me here all the time. You do realize that, right?”
Ella blinked at her, surprised by the comment. “He has a hard time getting around, and I want to make sure that he has help nearby when I’m not here.” She’d never forgive herself if her father slipped and fell or had some kind of accident because of his lack of motor skills and ended up hurting himself.
Betsy shook her head, though she was smiling. “He gets around just fine. Quite honestly, for a long time now I’ve suspected that he acts frail and incapable because you’ve always catered to him. He won’t wither away if you go out and live your life, and that’s what you should be doing. You’re a young woman. You need to find yourself a man, get married, and have your own family.”
Ella wasn’t sure what had brought on this conversation, but it caused an odd tightness in her chest. She’d tried to find a man, had nearly gotten married, only to realize how unfair it would all be to Tucker, to tie him to her burdens and her schedule. Not that she considered her father a burden, but still. And to be honest, she’d never felt about him the way she felt about . . . No. She wasn’t going there. But she hadn’t loved Tucker the way they both deserved if she were going to marry him.
As for her father . . . she knew there was truth to what Betsy was saying, but her own guilty conscience and that sense of responsibility she’d carried since her mother’s death and then her father’s stroke was hard to let go. She couldn’t let something happen to him if she could avoid it by having Betsy around. And her father depended on her to keep the store running, to keep the mortgage paid, and unfortunately, there was no one else around to share the burden that had, over the years, become hers and hers alone.
She walked Betsy out to her car, and once the other woman was gone, Ella headed back into the house and locked the door. She took a hot shower, changed into one of the soft, comfy tank-top-and-short sets she slept in, then climbed into bed after turning off all the lights. The house was quiet, and since she was wide-awake, her mind insisted on replaying everything that had happened with Kyle tonight.
She’d never intended for anything to happen between them, but the chemistry and attraction between them was impossible to resist. And God, that show of dominance of his that she’d glimpsed had excited and thrilled her, and because she’d still been annoyed with him after his cool attitude toward her that afternoon, it had been so easy to engage him, to let all that sexual tension turn all that frustration into something hot and steamy and physical.
Except it hadn’t stayed all about the physical pleasure and release. Not for her. No, her stupid emotions had wheedled their way into where they didn’t belong.
She’d walked away after his orgasm not to prove the point that she could, but because she’d felt too much in that moment. She’d been overwhelmed by the intensity of their encounter and addicted to how amazing it felt to give him that ultimate pleasure. She’d walked away because she was terrified that she was falling in love with Kyle again, and that was a dangerous thing for her heart to do.
A soft tap, tap, tap at her window startled her out of her thoughts and also made her traitorous heart flutter, because she knew what that tap, tap, tap meant. And who was making the noise, despite the fact that the curtains were drawn and she couldn’t see outside. It took her back to when she and Kyle were dating in high school, and he’d sneak into her bedroom at night exactly like this, and with the house being a one-story, getting in and out had been ridiculously easy for him to do.
Tap, tap, tap. She wanted to ignore him, but the sound was a little louder this time, definitely more impatient, and after the way she’d walked away from him without a word or explanation back at the Roadhouse, she knew he wasn’t going to give up anytime soon.
Tossing off the covers, she padded over to the window and pushed aside the curtain. Sure enough, Kyle was standing on the other side of the glass, and he’d already removed the screen from the frame. Yeah, just like old times.
“I already gave you a blow job. What else do you want?” she asked in an annoyed whisper.
He glared at her, his hands on his hips. “Open the goddamn window,” he hissed, and it was the fear that he’d wake up her father—even though his bedroom was on the opposite side of the house—that had her obeying his command. She wasn’t about to take any chances.
As quietly as possible, she unlatched the wooden frame, and while Kyle pushed it up and climbed through the opening, she went to her bedroom door and jammed a rubber wedge beneath it to make sure no one could open it from the hallway, just as a precaution. The house had been built in the early 1920s, and the doors didn’t have locks. Growing up, her parents had preferred it that way. And as an adult, she’d never had a reason to install one. Until now.
She turned around to face Kyle, who looked much too imposing in her bedroom. She’d kept the lights off, but she could see him easily enough, and his tense body language spoke for itself.
“Care to explain what happened back at the Roadhouse?” he asked in a low voice that vibrated with annoyance.
She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted on her bare feet. “No, not really.” How did she put into words how confused and conflicted she felt? She couldn’t explain it to herself, let alone him.
“Try,” he insisted, his gaze narrowed as he took a step closer.
She took a step back. “I can’t.” Her throat felt as raw as her emotions.
Something in his expression changed, softened, and this time when he moved closer, she didn’t retreat. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then tenderly skimmed his thumb along her jawline, adding to the chaos of feelings swirling inside her.
His eyes were caring as they met hers. “Okay,” he said quietly, as if he understood what she couldn’t explain, and then he reached out and gently pulled her into his arms and against his chest.
Ella didn’t even resist. She flowed against him, closing her eyes and resting her cheek right were his heart beat strong and sure. He felt so good. So solid and warm, and everything about this moment made her wish that he could be hers. That nothing stood in the way of them being happy and this could be her life.
His hold around her tightened and he sighed into her hair. “I know that what’s happening between us is unexpected. If someone would have told me ten days ago that I’d be standing in your bedroom with you in my arms, I would have called them insane. But here you are. Here we are, and I’m not ready to let you go just yet.”
Her mind replayed the words just yet. As in, he’d have to let her go eventually, which she already knew and accepted, even as gut-wrenching as the notion was. She just wasn’t sure she’d be able to withstand the pain when he left . . . again.
She let her arms drift around his waist, let her hands slide up his strong, muscled back. “You shouldn’t be here, Kyle,” she whispered, not sure if she was trying to convince herself or him. Or if she was trying to protect her heart from the inevitable.
His fingers threaded through her hair, and he gently tugged her head back so she was looking up at him. A sexy smile teased the corner of his mouth, a clear intent to shift the mood away from the emotional stuff.
“Did you really think I was going to let you suck me off and not repay the favor?” he murmured, raising a dark brow.
A frisson of heat and awareness took up residence in the pit of her belly and made her nipples pucker tight—as if her body was battling against all the doubts and uncertainties filling her mind. “Kyle . . . ”
“Tell me no, Sunshine,” he murmured, caressing the back of his hand along her cheek. “That’s all you have to do. Say no, and I’ll turn around and go. One simple word. You hold all the power, and the decision is yours. Tell me to leave. Do it.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say the word, because it went against everything she wanted and desired. She swallowed hard, praying she didn’t regret her decision in the long run, though, given the choice, if she only had two months and a handful of weekends to spend with Kyle, even secretly, she’d take whatever she could—then figure out a way to move on without him after the building was done and he was gone.
He was waiting for her answer, the rigid set of his shoulders and the hope in his gaze belying the fact that he’d just told her he’d leave if that was her choice. Clearly, it wasn’t what he wanted, either.
“Stay,” she whispered, unable to stop the flood of honest emotions that spilled past her lips. “I can’t stop wanting you, needing you, aching for you. It’s constant, and I need it to go away. Make it go away, Kyle.”
He shook his head as he grabbed the hem of her tank top and drew it up and over her head, revealing her breasts to his gaze. “I don’t ever want it to go away,” he said huskily, baring his own soul to her as he leaned down and kissed and nuzzled her neck. “I want you to always need me, ache for me . . .”
For now, in this moment, she could easily pretend that there would always be an always. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as he filled his big, warm hands with her breasts, then gasped when his mouth dipped down, closed over a taut, sensitive nipple, and sucked on the beaded tip. His fingers kneaded her flesh, his tongue swirled around an areola, and he gently guided her a few steps back, until her shoulders met the wall behind her.
This time, it was Kyle who dropped to his knees in front of her. He trailed hot, damp kisses down her stomach and rubbed his soft beard against her skin as he gripped the waistband of her sleep shorts and her panties and drew them both slowly, oh so excruciatingly slowly, over her hips, down her thighs, then let them drop to her feet.
She stepped out of the garments and Kyle tossed them aside, then sat back on his heels for a moment to trail his gaze up the length of her completely naked body, making her skin heat with anticipation. He hadn’t even touched her yet and she could feel how wet she already was, how needy her pussy was for his lips, his fingers, his tongue.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured reverently, appreciatively, as he splayed his hands on her thighs and caressed them upward, until his thumbs reached her sex and he had her spread open to his hot, smoldering gaze.
“This, right here, is mine,” he said on a low, possessive growl that thrilled her, then he buried his face between her legs and that thrill became an undeniable, breathtaking need.
Her head fell back against the wall and she moaned as she tipped her hips toward his mouth, giving him better access. He took full advantage, deepening the intimate kiss in ways she didn’t even know was possible. Just as she’d been with him earlier, he was ruthless in his quest to make her come. His tongue was pure magic, and she clutched his hair in her hands as she started to shake, desperately needing something to hold on to as he rocked her world.
She wanted to scream and she was just barely coherent enough to remember that they weren’t truly alone in the house. Instead, she bit down on her lower lip, holding back the cry of pleasure as the hot, demanding lick of his tongue turned greedy, ravenous, merciless, ultimately pushing her trembling and shuddering right over the precipice and straight into sheer bliss.
When she was finished bucking against his mouth, when the last of her internal tremors ebbed away, he stood up and braced his hands on her hips, giving her the support she needed to keep standing until she came to her senses again and her legs stopped shaking like jelly.
“I could do that all night long,” he murmured wickedly. “But I’m dying to be inside you and feel you come around my cock, pulling me in and sucking my dick the same way your lips did earlier.”
God, he was absolutely shameless. “You have the dirtiest mouth, City Boy.”
“You fucking love my filthy mouth,” he said as he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped to the floor, the gleam in his eyes a little—okay, a whole lot—depraved. “The way it talks, the way it pleasures your pussy, the way it—”
She slapped her palm over his mouth and laughed softly, not sure she could take much more. “Stop.”
Pulling her hand away, he pressed the sweetest kiss in the center of her palm, contradicting his bold and brash statement. “Admit it.”
She smiled and told him the truth. “I love your filthy, dirty mouth.” So much.
He smirked triumphantly at her. “Yeah, you do. Now get up on the bed and spread your gorgeous legs for me, Sunshine, and show me what’s mine.”
Following his request, she climbed up onto the mattress and rested her head on a pillow, watching him at the foot of the bed as he stripped off the last of his clothes, then bent down and retrieved a condom from the pocket of his jeans. Before he could tear it open, she stopped him, and he tipped his head curiously at her.
“I’m on birth control,” she assured him, pointing to the underside of her arm to indicate the implant embedded just under the skin. “I had it put in a few weeks before Tucker and I were supposed to get married because I thought it would be easier, but things ended between us before it went into effect . . . ” She let the words trail off, and it didn’t take him long to figure out what she was trying to say.
“We’ve never had sex without a condom,” he said, his low, intimate voice reminding her of how he’d always driven to another town to buy protection because he hadn’t wanted anyone to gossip about them, and there had been no way she would have gone to the local doctor for the pill, despite confidentiality laws. “In fact, if I’m being honest, I’ve never had sex with anyone without one.”
She was glad. So, so glad. “Me, either,” she whispered, trailing her fingers up the middle of her stomach as she gave him a come-hither smile. “Care to be my first? Again?” she teased.
Dropping the foil packet, he didn’t hesitate to move up onto the bed. He grasped one of her ankles, then the other, widening her even more as he draped her legs over his thighs, took his cock in his hand, and dragged the head through the wetness between. “You’re going to be my first again, too,” he said, teasing them both with another slow, seductive stroke of his smooth, bare dick along her sensitive, needy flesh.
She moaned in frustration, her impatience and desire growing. “I want to feel every inch of you sliding into me, filling me, fucking me so hard and deep I won’t know where I end and you begin.”
“Jesus,” he breathed as he finally positioned the thick tip against her core, then braced his hands on either side of her shoulders, his dark eyes looking directly into hers as he grinned. “Who has the dirty, filthy mouth now?”
“Do it, Kyle,” she begged, bending her knees back farther against his hips and gripping his ass in her hands to urge him forward. “Fuck me. Please.”
He pushed his way into her in what felt like a long, endless stroke as his body settled completely over hers, both of them moaning at the exquisite sensation of having absolutely nothing between them. And then he started to move, gradually building the momentum into strong, hard, deep grunting lunges that awakened nerve endings inside her and had her nails digging urgently into the muscle and sinew along his back.
“You feel like fucking heaven.” He bit the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder joined, nipped her lobe, then kissed his way to her lips and devoured the soft, mewling moans she couldn’t hold back.
She was completely surrounded by the man above her, deliciously pinned to the mattress by his weight as his thrusts gained force, their limbs tangled and entwined and her back arching wantonly so she could feel the friction of his chest rubbing against her aching nipples. His hands were in her hair, pulling her head to the side so he could fuse their mouths more deeply, so that they weren’t connected just physically but intimately as well.
And emotionally. Oh, God, the longing swelling inside of her was almost painful, mixed in with the finest, most sublime rapture as her climax stole her breath and redefined the meaning of pleasure and euphoria.
And all she could do was let go and hope to God that when the time came, she’d survive the heartbreak he was bound to leave behind.
* * *
Ella lay curled against Kyle’s side, her cheek on his warm, solid chest and her hand on his flat stomach as he absently threaded his fingers through her hair in the shadowed bedroom. She was thoroughly sated and content for the moment to enjoy this quiet time with Kyle. In a few minutes, she was going to have to kick him out of her bed, because letting him spend the night wasn’t a risk she was willing to take, not even if he promised to slip out at dawn. She knew he was heading back to the city in the morning, and already she was missing him since it would be another long week before she’d get to see him again.
You might as well get used to it, her mind taunted, because the terms of their affair weren’t going to change any time soon, if ever.
“Ella . . .” Kyle’s voice was deep and low and almost hesitant as it broke into her thoughts. “What happened between you and Tucker?”
She wasn’t surprised he asked, considering how he’d reacted to seeing her ex-fiancé at the bar earlier, and as much as she didn’t want to talk about Tucker right now, or ever, she wanted everything out in the open between them. No secrets. No misunderstandings. No resentments.
She exhaled a small breath. “What do you want to know?”
He absently wound a strand of hair around his finger. “Well, for starters, how did the two of you get involved in the first place?”
That was easy enough to answer. “We were always friends, but over time, that gradually changed. There’s not a whole lot of available men in town, and Tucker was and is a good guy. Someone dependable that I always could count on, and I was . . . lonely,” she forced herself to admit, because Kyle needed to know that, too. “When he asked me out on a date, I figured why not? What could it hurt?”
She felt Kyle’s body tense slightly, but he’d been the one to ask about the relationship, and she wasn’t going to lie about any of it to save his feelings. Besides, they’d already talked about the fact that he’d dated plenty of women in Chicago, even if they hadn’t been long-term commitments.
“We had a nice time and he was easy to be with. It was . . . comfortable,” she said, trying to find the right word to explain their dynamic.
A small, derisive laugh escaped him. “It sounds like you’re talking about buying a couch for your living room. Nice, easy, comfortable.”
She would have laughed, too, if he hadn’t just nailed the painful truth. “That’s just who Tucker is. He’s not overtly sentimental or affectionate. He looks at things in a practical, sensible way, and I tend to be more . . . ”
“Emotional?” he guessed.
The man knew her well. “Yes. And because of that, we could never really get past being friends. Not like us,” she admitted, because despite putting Kyle in the friend zone, the chemistry and attraction between them had been too strong to deny. That had never been the case with Tucker.
“Yet you were going to marry him,” he said gruffly, and she heard the hurt underlying his voice.
“Yes,” she said quietly, and she wasn’t proud of her reasons. “I want to be married. I want to share my life with someone, have a family with them, grow old together.” Her throat grew tight because she’d always wanted, and had once envisioned, that kind of future for the two of them. “I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life, and I thought Tucker and I could make it work. Except, as time passed, I knew we’d never really get past being just friends. There was no passion in our relationship, nothing that excited or stimulated me mentally.”
She swallowed hard and continued. “I knew in my heart that I wouldn’t be happy married to him. And if I wasn’t happy, we’d both be miserable. The last thing I’d ever want is to end up bitter and resentful because he couldn’t give me what I needed, so I called off the wedding before we both made a huge mistake.”
Kyle’s hand drifted along her jaw, and he tucked his thumb beneath her chin and raised her gaze to his. A frown furrowed his brow, and the look in his eyes was tentative. “Did you love him?”
It was a hard question to answer, because love came in all different forms, and when it came to Tucker, her sentiment had been based more on fondness, caring, and respect. Not the kind of intimacy and passion and excitement—and a dozen other wild, exhilarating emotions—that she felt when she was with Kyle.
“Of course I loved him,” she replied honestly, not missing the flicker of pain that passed across his features, then was quickly gone. “I never would have agreed to marry Tucker if I didn’t have feelings for him. But it was never the way I loved you,” she said, unable to hold back that truth, too.
Her heart mocked her for using the word love in past tense, for taking the safe route, for giving in to her fears. She knew now that she’d never fallen out of love with Kyle, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud because she knew it wouldn’t change anything between them, that their differences and lifestyles were too vast.
And sometimes, love just wasn’t enough.