Pause by Kylie Scott
CHAPTER NINE
“What is that look for?” I ask, stirring a spoonful of sugar into my coffee.
Mom continues giving me a sly smile. As if she’s super pleased with herself or something.
“Mother, explain yourself.”
She crosses her legs, getting comfy at the quiet corner table we scored at a busy café. We’ve already visited Clem and her boss, Iris, at Braun’s Books. Both Mom and I now own a healthy selection of romance novels. Considering it was Clem who gave Twilight to Leif to read to me while I was in a coma, the least we can do is support her awesome local indie bookstore. It’s been a nice day with beautiful warm weather. Perfect for wandering around town. I can’t remember the last time we did something like this. She and I spending time out and about that’s not related to the accident or some family gathering. Just being together. At least I don’t have to worry about her stabbing me in the back or anything like that. Mom is a much safer option than most.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she says. “I just happened to be talking to Leif the other day is all.”
“I find it so disturbing that you two are friends,” I say.
She frowns. “Why?”
“Because he’s half your age, male, and a tattoo artist. For starters.”
“Nonsense,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Our differences just mean we have more to discuss and offer each other in the way of new experiences and altered perspectives.”
“Right. What does Dad say about your friendship?”
She gives me an amused glance. “What possible business is it of his who I’m friends with?”
“Actually, you have a very valid point there.”
“Our marriage is fine. He would hardly imagine I’m about to run off and have a wild fling now, would he?”
“I guess not,” I say. Though she does seem to be enjoying the attention of an older male not so covertly watching us from across the room. Everyone likes to feel attractive or special now and then, I guess.
“Admit it, you just don’t want to share your friend with me.”
“That makes me sound like a six-year-old fighting over a Barbie doll,” I say, somewhat put out.
Mom just looks at me.
“Fine. Be friends with him. I don’t care.”
“Thank you for your permission, dear,” she says, lips pursed. “There’s a special sort of bond that comes with someone willing to sit for hours at my unconscious daughter’s bedside and read to her. I have a lot of respect for that boy.”
“Man.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do,” I say. “Carry on.”
“He was in a great deal of pain what with his arm, and he still managed to display more of a caring nature toward you than your husband managed in months of getting in the nurses’ way and generally feeling sorry for himself.” She pauses to frown at the memory. “At any rate, I was delighted to hear that you and Leif are doing so well.”
It’s been two weeks since he and I became intimate. Bed friends. Roommates with benefits. Sexual partners. Whatever. We work together, sleep together, and eat most meals together. We’re also having an insane amount of fun in and out of the bedroom. Proving that we can actually spend time apart, he’s having lunch with his family while I have a Sunday afternoon visit with my mother. While he did invite me to lunch at his parents’, I demurred. It’s too soon. Too big a step. What if they didn’t like me? Ryan’s mother only tolerated me at best. Though I’m not sure anyone would have been good enough for her golden boy. What if Leif’s parents met me and hated me and told him he’d be better off without me? I wasn’t ready to set myself up for failure in that way. To add that sort of strain to things. Besides which, Mom wanted to see the condo and where I work. It’s been nice to catch up with her. Until now.
“Wait,” I say. “What’s that meant to mean? ‘Doing so well’?”
“Well, that you’re together.”
“He told you that? That we’re together?”
“Hmm?” Mom delicately takes a bite of her cookie before pressing the paper napkin to her lips. “Of course not. Rest assured, he doesn’t give away any of your secrets. He’s not stupid.”
“Then why would you think . . .”
“Know, dear. I know that you two are now together,” she says. “And that’s because I could hear it in his tone of voice when he talks about you. The boy was practically gushing. It was so sweet.”
“The boy is over thirty years old.”
Mom just shrugs. “I do find it interesting that you’re not denying that you and he are now involved.”
“What would be the point?” I take a sip of coffee. “You’re already convinced you’re right.”
“That’s because I am right.”
“I’ve neither confirmed nor denied.”
“You don’t need to. I already know.”
I smile despite myself. “Yeah, well, it’s not serious, so don’t get carried away and start planning another wedding.”
“Look at that smile. You’re happy and it’s beautiful to see. As for planning anything, I wouldn’t dare,” she says in a sassy tone. “And I’d imagine you’re taking your time and getting to know one another, which is wise and good. There’s no need to rush into anything.”
I just nod.
“Just enjoy yourself. You haven’t been single for a long time. There’s all these opportunities and possibilities available to you right now.”
“The ink on the divorce certificate is still fresh. Whatever would the church ladies say?”
She clicks her tongue. “Everyone has an opinion, Anna. Doesn’t mean you need to listen.”
“True.”
“Good Lord, you admitting I’m right about something. Pinch me. Am I really awake?”
I give her the look. “At least I come by my sarcastic tendencies honestly.”
Mom laughs.
“How’s Dad?”
“Alive and well. He’s off playing golf.”
“Of course he is,” I mumble. “Does that ever bother you, how much time and effort goes into golf?”
Mom sits back in her chair with her legs crossed, rocking her foot back and forth. “No, not for my part. We both have our own interests, which is good. Otherwise we’d have nothing to talk about. We heard all of each other’s stories a long time ago. Not that I have any particular interest in hearing about his golf game, but I’m glad it makes him happy and opens him up to a new social group.”
“Okay.”
“Your father and I have always done our best communicating in bed.”
My brows shoot up. “Oh, God. You did not just tell me that.”
“One thing I’ve learned is that you have to choose what kind of relationship you want,” she continues. “If you send them off with a smile then there’s a better chance that they’ll rush on back to you when they’re done with whatever. Oh, and the second thing I learned was to pick your fights. If you want your voice to be heard, then use it wisely.”
“I basically agree with those. But what about venting in general? Are you just supposed to shut up and play the good wife and never say a thing?”
“No. That’s different.”
“Ah.”
“It’s interesting, isn’t it, looking at how people relate,” says Mom. “I always say, you have no idea what makes or doesn’t make a relationship work unless you’re one of the people in it.”
“That makes sense.”
Back and forth rocks her foot. “Don’t lose your nerve just because of one failed marriage. Your Aunt Peggy didn’t find Mister Right until her third try.”
“And you mocked her for it.”
“Did I?” Mom frowns off into the middle distance. “I don’t remember that.”
“It was mostly done behind her back.”
“Hmm,” she says. “The years may have softened me some. So has almost losing my only child. If anything is going to teach you grace and how not to sweat the small stuff, it’s that. But I’ll have you know that I also took Peggy in and let her sleep in our spare room for months at a time when marriages one and two fell apart. I’m not totally terrible.”
“I never said you were.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many long-winded discussions we had over a bottle of wine late at night after you’d gone to bed.”
“Family is complicated.”
“Well, that’s true. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being a little teasing now and then. Or with venting.”
“This conversation has gotten unexpectedly deep and probing.”
“Is that a problem?” she asks.
“No. Just a bit surprising. Why did we never talk this openly before?”
She contemplates this for a moment, stirring the spoon around in her coffee once again. “Maybe Ryan and Celine didn’t leave much room in your life for other people.”
“Hmm.”
“Or maybe I was busy with my own things and didn’t make enough of an effort with you.”
“Maybe we both needed to make more of an effort,” I say.
“Maybe. Perhaps you were also a little wary of me. I heaped a lot of expectations on you when you were younger. I was harder on you than I should have been because you were a girl. A lot of it was about me and the way I grew up. What type of a parent my own mother was to me. It was only when I saw how it was hurting you that I realized and stopped. But time teaches us all to calm the heck down some. To be kinder to yourself and others,” she says with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t always the best mother, sweetie. I learned from my mistakes, but that doesn’t change the fact that mistakes were made. I’m sorry they hurt you, and I want you to know I love you more than anything.”
“I love you too, Mom, and neither of us are perfect. Thanks for all you’ve done to help me get back on my feet.”
“When I thought I lost you in the accident, I’d never been more terrified.”
“It was no one’s idea of a good time, that’s for sure.”
“Still, no one could blame you for being a little defensive right now. A little on edge. But try not to let it become a habit. None of us are perfect. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
I sigh, wishing that it were that simple. Today’s been wonderful, but I still feel like I’m always just one breath, one moment, away from collapsing into that brittle, messy piece of work left over from the accident. I don’t know why some times it hits harder than others. Guess healing comes in bits and pieces. It stops and starts and takes you by surprise. Leif would understand all this. But then, Leif always understands. And right in this moment, I’d give anything to have him here to hold my hand. And that sort of weakness scares me.
I swallow hard. “You’re very wise, Mother.”
“Sometimes.” She takes a sip of coffee. “At least we’re open to being wrong and doing better. That’s a good thing. Most people never even get that far.”
“I love you, you know?”
“I know, sweetie. I love you too. Drink your coffee before it goes cold.”
It’s getting on toward sunset by the time I arrive home. Coffee turned into a glass of wine, which turned into dinner. Mom and I had a great time. Maybe it takes a while before you see your parents as being real people. Someone other than your designated caregiver and eternal judge. Someone capable of making mistakes and having regrets. Instead of just being the person who has to listen to you moan and groan and drive you places and who will hopefully take you in if everything in your life hits the wall. What it says about me that it took me so long to see her as a real live functioning entity separate from being my maternal figure probably isn’t good. But at least I got there in the end. Mom and I are more than just mother and daughter now. We’re friends too, and that’s beautiful.
I also managed to calm my roll and find my inner peace once more. Everything is okay. Everything is going to be fine. Probably. And that’s about as certain as life gets, in all honesty. Things happen. Sometimes they’re unexpected and painful and horrible. But I can’t go through life just waiting to get knocked down again. That’s not living. I will be brave and not cower in constant fear of the pain and turmoil life can throw at me. I swear it.
“Anna?”
I turn to find Ryan stepping out of his car. His expression, at first hesitant, soon turns into the usual set-jaw study of entitlement. We stand underneath the dogwood outside the condo building, staring at one another. And I am not smiling.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I thought we could talk.”
The man looks rumpled. His polo shirt is creased and his chino shorts are no better. Quite the change from his usual immaculate presentation of all-around great guy. It’s kind of weird that I used to find him attractive. I mean, he is fundamentally an attractive person. People used to tell me how lucky I was, back when we were married. Gosh, your husband is so handsome and all that. Guess I just can’t see it anymore. Overlaid on the classic chiseled-jaw features are so many memories. Mostly recent and bad. None that I feel the need to deal with right here and now. Or ever.
“No, we’re divorced,” I say. “There’s nothing left to say.”
He shoves a hand through his hair. “Anna . . .”
“Divorced means I am no longer legally required to listen to you.”
And he actually looks to heaven at this. What a dick. What did I ever see in this guy?
“I’m not being unreasonable or irrational, Ryan. So don’t give me that look. Your dedication to being the actual worst is amazing.”
“Real mature, Anna. If you’d just—”
“No. No way.”
“You’ve changed,” he says, all thoughtful like for a moment. And whatever this change in me is, it does not please him.
“I’d certainly hope so.” I take a deep breath. “What the hell did you think you were going to accomplish by coming here? Seriously?”
Then he just spits it out: “Celine was a mistake.”
“Holy shit.” My eyes feel as wide as twin moons. “Did you just call the mother of your unborn child a mistake?”
His lips disappear into a thin pissed-off line. “You know I don’t mean it like that. But the pregnancy has made her crazy. She’s making all of these outrageous demands. This is . . . we don’t belong together, she and I. You and I, we used to be good together. She’s not like you.”
“That’s true. I believe in pesky things like loyalty and stuff.”
Across the street, a dude is sitting in his car watching us and fair enough. We’re quite the spectacle.
“Please, be serious.” He reaches out to grab hold of my arm. “Anna, we need to talk.”
“Anything you need to say to me can be said through the lawyers.”
“Anna!”
“And barking my name at me won’t get you shit, Ryan. Now move your hand.”
“Just listen for a minute, would you?”
“Get your fucking hand off of her,” growls Leif, appearing behind me. Dressed in his jogging gear, so it makes sense that Ed’s now here too and also witnessing this debacle.
“I’ve got this,” I say, only no one’s listening.
“This is nothing to do with you,” snarls Ryan.
Leif steps closer. “Now I really have to fucking disagree with you there, buddy.”
“Leif, please,” I say through gritted teeth. “I can handle this.”
Standing tall, my moron ex’s nostrils flare and he says, “She’s my wife.”
“What?” asks Leif, tone outraged.
“Not even close, Ryan.” And now I’m using my pointing finger. Never a good sign. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you delusional? Did you actually just say that I’m your wife? And you had the gall to use the present tense?”
He doesn’t respond.
“There aren’t enough words to describe how very wrong you are right now.”
Ryan’s furious gaze takes in Leif standing so close to my back and oh boy. The penny drops. I can see it in Ryan’s eyes the minute he realizes that Leif and I are involved. That I’ve moved on, at least sexually. An expression of hurt crosses my ex’s face for a moment, and give me a damn break. I’m not cheating. Not even remotely. But his pain morphs straight into anger, and now it’s well and truly on. Testosterone all but scents the air and oh my God.
With a strangled sound, Ryan lets go of me and swings at Leif’s face, clipping his jaw. Leif stumbles back a step before launching himself at my ex. In the midst of all this, I’m pushed aside by said ex, but manage to land on my ass in the nice soft grass. The two grown men, however, are busy rolling around, battling it out like we’re in the damn schoolyard. Fists fly and punches land. Grunts and groans fill the air. Holy hell. This cannot be happening.
“Are you okay?” Ed kneels at my side.
“Yeah,” I say, my eyes itching with unshed tears. And they’re not for me and my sore ass. “Can you stop these idiots, please?”
Before answering, he assists me in getting back on my feet. “Sure thing, Anna.”
And he breaks up the battling duo by waiting until Ryan is on top, then hauling him up by the back of his polo. He dispenses of my raging ex by throwing him into some nearby shrubbery. A very scratchy landing. Meanwhile, to his brother he offers a hand. Leif’s eye is swollen and a dark bruise blossoms on his chin. What a mess.
“Are you hurt?” I say, rushing to his side.
“No. Are you?”
I shake my head.
Ryan pulls himself out of the shrubbery. “I’m calling the police.”
“You fucking—” starts Leif.
I hold up a hand. “I’ve got this. Please listen when I say that this time.”
Leif shuts his mouth, gaze suddenly wary. The man is not stupid.
“You’re going to call the cops about a fight you started, Ryan?” I ask, dealing with the situation as promised. “Really? How do you think that’s going to go?”
His face is set in mulish lines, his hair ruffled, and nose dripping blood. It looks broken. The line of it wrong somehow. Can’t say he didn’t deserve that.
“Leif was only defending himself. Not to mention, you also pushed me, Ryan,” I say. “Me. The ex-wife you just went through a pretty damn acrimonious divorce with. You made me fall. Pretty sure that counts as assault, don’t you?”
He sets his hands on his hips, giving me a distinctly pissy expression. The nerve of this bastard.
“Shall I press charges or are you going to stop being an idiot, peacefully leave, and promise never to return? Or would you like to end the day needing a criminal lawyer as well as a divorce lawyer?” I ask.
Something close to panic enters his gaze. “Anna, wait, please. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You never do,” I say. “And yet you still make the worst damn choices. I’m done being hurt by you. And I’m done letting you hurt the people I care about.”
“I’m sorry.” Oh the angst. He’s giving it his all. “I just wanted to talk.”
“Oh, Jesus. Give me strength.” I take in a deep breath. “Listen to me, Ryan. Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“We are never, not in a million years, getting back together. Do you hear me? Are you taking this in?”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I get there first.
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. You and everything to do with you is behind me now. I couldn’t mean it more if I tried, Ryan,” I say. “The divorce was neither a cry for help nor a plea for your attention. There are no do-overs or second chances. We’re done. Finished. Kaput. Never again do I want you to darken my doorstep. Now kindly get the fuck out of here.”
For a moment his face blanks, incredulous. Over the message, my choice of language, or a combination of both, I don’t know. Then he about-faces and stomps off to his car. The door opens, he climbs in, then slams the door shut. The engine turns on and he drives off with the screeching of tires. Oh thank God for that.
I slump in relief.
“On a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you at me right now?” asks Leif in a somewhat concerned voice. Also, he’s still covered in bruises, which I hate.
“You scared me. You could have been seriously injured.”
“Nah,” he drawls. “By that sad sack of shit? Never. I can take him. Another minute and I’d have . . . I’m saying the wrong thing, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” My mouth is flat and unimpressed. “Do not be a cool dude right now. My nerves are way too raw to handle it.”
“Sorry.”
“Do you want some ice for that shiner?” asks Ed.
“Nah, I’ll see to it later,” says Leif.
Ed looks back and forth between the two of us. “Well, if you two are okay, I might give you some space and head off.”
“Yeah,” says Leif. “Thanks.”
Ed nods and jogs off down the road. Happy to get the hell away from the couple-fight vibes we’re no doubt giving off by the bucket load.
“Do you even know why you’re in trouble?” I ask.
“Um. Well . . .” He gingerly touches his swollen lip and is rewarded with a wince. “You sort of said you could handle it and ah . . .”
“Go on.”
“I didn’t like the way he was talking to you.”
I say nothing.
“Hated the way he grabbed you,” he continues. “That was really way the fuck out of line.”
I cock my head. “And yet we’re discussing your involvement in the incident, not his.”
“You wanted me to let you handle it and I didn’t,” he admits finally, meeting my eyes.
“That’s right.”
He slowly nods. “So you’re really pissed, huh?”
“No.” I sigh. “More worried about you than angry. And don’t give me that tough-guy crap again. Violence neither impresses me nor turns me on.”
“Got it. It’s been like a decade since I’ve been in a fistfight, honestly. Oh, no, about eight years. I forgot about that one time . . . at any rate, it’s not something I tend to go around making a habit out of,” he says. “That’s the point I’m making here.”
“I’m very glad to hear that. This situation should never recur, but if it does, please let me decide how to handle my ex-husband in the future.” I square my shoulders. “I realize him grabbing me was a long way from okay, but I had things under control.”
“Understood. But if it ever goes any further than that . . . I can’t stand by and let you get hurt. You understand that, right?” he asks. “I’m not trying to start anything or act like a dick, I’m just stating a fact.”
“Yes, I understand. Though I don’t think it would ever come to that.”
“No one does until it happens. He’s not exactly behaving in a rational manner these days, is he?”
I blow out a breath. “No.”
“So you’ll be careful, right?”
“Yes.”
He goes to smile, then stops because of his poor face. “You know, Clem goes to a self-defense class every week. She shows us some of her moves sometimes, and I bet she’d have had that jerk in line in a flash. Much better than amateur hour with me. Maybe if you were ever interested you could give it a go?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Please do. Because the thought of him hurting you or something else happening to you and me not being there to protect you is doing my head in.”
“Leif. I’m okay. We’re both fine . . . apart from some marks.”
“Yeah.” He hangs his head, reaching out to take hold of one of my hands. “Are you sure you’re okay, Anna?”
“My butt may be slightly bruised. But otherwise I’m good.”
“You don’t want to check with a doctor just in case?”
“Not necessary,” I say. “The ground was soft. It wasn’t much of a fall. And I’ll write down everything that happened just in case we need details in the future. Guess I should check with my lawyer to see what the protocol is for dealing with him harassing me.”
“Very good idea. There’s also security cameras covering all around the building and the front street since Clem got attacked out here. We’ll ask for a copy of today’s events, huh?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
“Okay.” He wraps his arms around me, resting his forehead lightly against mine. “We’re okay.”
“Your jaw and your eye are hurt.”
“Eh,” he says. Such a tough guy.
“What the hell must your brother think?”
“That your ex-husband is a raging asshole. But then he pretty much already knew that from the last time Ryan stopped by.”
“That’s true,” I concede.
“Ed knows this isn’t on you. Try not to worry,” he says, escorting me up the steps and to the door.
It’s good to get inside away from prying eyes. Even better to close the condo door behind us and lock the whole world outside. The cool calm of home is a soothing balm on my frazzled nerves.
“We need to get some ice on your face,” I say.
“Hold on.” He steers me toward the table. “Do me a favor and lean over.”
“What?”
All of a sudden he’s on his knees behind me. His hands start pushing up the skirt of my light summer dress, exposing my panties. Then my underwear is dragged halfway down my thighs exposing my ass to one and all, but mostly just to him.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Checking your butt.” Warm fingers slide over the skin there. “It’s a little-known specialty of mine. I am in fact a derriere doctor of some renown.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. But the only ass I want to see is yours,” he says, with a smile in his voice. “In fact, I’m willing to make a thorough study of these babies. These pale orbs of loveliness.”
I laugh.
“I can see a red mark, but nothing serious. You’re good to go.” He cups his hands over my ass cheeks, giving them a pat or something. I honestly don’t know what he’s doing down there. But he certainly does seem committed to the cause.
“Thank you for checking,” I say. On the curve of one ass cheek, he gives me a kiss. “Leif, this is very strange. What are you up to back there?”
“We’ve now progressed to the ass-kissing apology stage of things.”
“Ah.”
He wraps his hands around my hips and presses his face to the small of my back. “I’m sorry you were worried. I’ll try harder to keep my temper in check when it comes to that sad sack of shit.”
“Thank you.”
“God knows, I’d come running back like my pants were on fire if I lost you.”
“Well, let’s try and avoid that then,” I say. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
“Good. It’d be very pathetic. I’m talking begging.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Your skin is so soft here.” He rubs his thumb over the indentations of my spine. And you smell good.”
“It’s just lotion.”
“Hmm.” He licks over the dimples above my ass, following it up with a nip of the teeth. Making a shiver run down my back. Next, cunning fingers are tugging my panties low enough that they go into freefall and hit the ground at my feet. “Get rid of them, Anna.”
“My panties?”
“Yeah.”
I do as asked, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. For a butt-cheek health check followed by an apology, we sure are moving to the sexing stage of things pretty fast. Though considering one of us doesn’t have our pants on, it was bound to happen.
His hand slides over my belly heading south and oh yeah. This is good. I could have sworn I wasn’t the least bit turned on two minutes ago. Tension and anger and worry had me wrapped up tight. But now I need it. I need him. To assure me everything’s okay. That we’re still together and intact after that bullshit outside.
“Turn around,” he says, sounding impatient.
I don’t need to be asked twice. A dining chair is dragged out of the way and the edge of my ass is set on the table. His gaze is heated and expression determined. Like getting access to me up close and personal is all that’s on his mind right now. Like being with me is all he wants and God knows I want to be with him too. He doesn’t get off his knees and my dress is soon rucked up to my waist at the front too. Then it’s all I can do to hold on as he positions my legs over his shoulder and makes merry with my girl parts.
“Fuck,” I mutter at the first flick of his tongue against my clit. “You’re so good at this.”
“Customer satisfaction is very important to me.”
“As long as your client base is limited to me, that is fine and dandy.”
He chuckles and licks over my labia. He sucks and nips and pauses every now and then to graze his stubble against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. A flurry of kisses is placed on my mound, then he’s back at it again, fucking me with his tongue. I never know what he’s going to give me next. It makes it hella exciting. When he adds a finger to the mix, pumping it in and out of me, I can’t keep my eyelids open any longer. It’s all too much. Too good.
Two fingers stretch me, coaxing me higher. Crude wet noises and the scent of my sex fill the air. He barely needs to rub over the back of my clit with those clever fingers and my body is already shaking. I come with very little coaxing. That spectacular high taking me over. It’s kind of embarrassing how easy I am for him. How ready to give it up I am each and every time. It’s also kind of awesome.
“Condom,” I say, voice weak and breathy.
“On it.”
After carefully untangling himself from my legs, he sprints for his bedroom. I’ve never seen a man move so fast. The hard-on tenting the front of his gray sweatpants leave very little to the imagination. It’s spectacular.
In no time at all, he’s stripping off his tee and pushing down his pants, rolling the prophylactic over his swollen dick. His skin and his tattoos, his smile and his taste, everything about him works for me. At the sight of him, my heart feels too big for my chest. Like something’s either gone very wrong or very right in there. It’s just some mad infatuation. An all-consuming crush. And that’s okay, it’s fine, I just can’t think about it anymore right now.
We’re both clutching at each other, mashing our mouths together for the messiest kiss in history. And it’s all so wonderful and frenzied and necessary. He slams his cock into me and oh hell yes. So good. We both moan in delight. Since I’m doing my best to cling to him like a howler monkey, he picks me up and stumble-walks us both to the nearest wall. This way we can stay smooshed together for the duration.
“Okay?” he asks, panting.
“Yes.”
And no more is said. With one strong hand under my ass and the other arm wrapped around my back, he nails me into the wall. I hide my face in his neck and do my best to hold on. It’s so urgent and all consuming. The need to get as physically close to him as I possibly can. I want to slide beneath his skin and wander through his mind. Know him better than I know myself. And none of these thoughts are the least bit sensible or cautious, but I can’t help it. I’ll worry about that later. The hard length of his dick surges into me, filling me to capacity again and again. My world is the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, the feel of him surrounding me and inside of me. The way he grinds the base of his dick against my clit and brushes over something fucking fabulous inside of me. Everything is tensing once again. My tummy tightening and thighs clasped tight around his hips. It surges up my spine, lighting up my whole world as I come again. Leif grunts and shoves his cock in deep, hips surging against me as he comes too.
Our limbs are locked around each other. Sweat and other bodily fluids on our skin. Ever so slowly and carefully, he takes us to the floor. And there we lie, sprawled out over each other.
“Holy shit,” he mumbles against the side of my head.
It takes me a minute to catch my breath. “Adrenaline from the fight.”
“Maybe. Or it might be just you. I can’t get enough.”
I brush some stray strands of hair back from his gorgeous face. Except he’s beautiful inside and out, this man. And there’s that weird and unfortunate heat and expansion inside my rib cage again. Honest to God, I could stare at him forever and it still wouldn’t be long enough.
“Anna, baby . . .” he says in a low voice. His gaze is so warm and intense and oh my God. Everything. He’s looking at me like I’m everything and it’s too much.
“Hmm?”
“I, uh—”
“What do you feel like for dinner?” It’s out of my mouth before I’ve even given it any thought. Safe neutral territory. Not that he was about to make things weird or anything. I’m probably being oversensitive or not sensitive enough or something. Or just somewhat deranged, who am I kidding?
“Dinner?” he asks, raising a brow.
“You’re right. I need to get ice for your eye first.” I crawl off of him and stand, smoothing down my dress and hunting for my panties. “You deal with the condom and I’ll go in search of medical aid.”
“Okay,” he says. And if anything, he sounds sort of bemused. Whatever.
Nothing is wrong. I just came twice and it’s a beautiful summer night. I empty a tray of ice into a kitchen towel and hey, presto. A couple of ibuprofen would be a good idea too. Meanwhile, Leif is back up on his feet and fetching two beers out of the fridge while being at least half dressed, which returns a little of my sanity. Though every time I look at him or hear his voice or enter his general vicinity I go a bit crazy. He shouldn’t have such an effect on me. It’s unnerving. Emotions are so wrong. They’re dangerous and they can hurt.
Which is when I see them on the side table. A vase overflowing with flowers. Daisies, lavender, lilies, carnations, and roses. They’re beautiful. All I can do is stare. “Where did they come from?”
“Huh?” he asks, flopping onto the lounge. “Oh. Yeah. I picked them up on my way home earlier. Mom is all keen to meet you, by the way. I don’t think you’re going to get out of going to family dinners for long. She’s way overexcited.”
“Really?”
“Come on,” he says, holding a bottle of beer out to me. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you play nurse.”
To this, I say nothing. But I do take the seat and the beer and hold the ice to his poor wounded eye. I also hand over the pills.
He winces, the smile falling away. “At least I broke the fucker’s nose.”
“Never again.”
“Which I will never do again because violence is wrong, even though he started it and deserved it.”
I take a sip of beer. “Thank you.”
“Like I was saying, Clem and Ed were singing your praises at dinner and now Mom is all hyped up to meet you. Hope that’s okay.”
“Ah, sure.”
He smiles encouragingly.
“You know, as long as she understands . . .”
“What?”
“That we’re . . . that it’s early days and we, um . . . well, you know . . .”
“Sure,” he says eventually, putting me out of my word-stumbling misery.
“Okay. Great.”
“Clem mentioned she and Tessa had asked you to hang with them.”
“Yeah?”
“You never mentioned,” he says, gulping down some beer. “They like you a lot. Apparently they want to incorporate you into their girl gang or something. Secret handshakes may be involved. I’m not sure what the process is exactly.”
“That’s very kind of them.”
“But it’s not what you want?” he asks.
“No. I didn’t say that.”
“You’re just holding back. Being careful.” His gaze is gentle. “It’s understandable.”
“Is it?” I ask. “In some ways it feels cowardly. Like I’m putting my life on pause again.”
“Trust takes time.”
I frown, and my gaze darts back to the flowers and oh shit. He definitely saw that.
“You’re not into flowers.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Never mind. Next time I’ll get you something else.”
“They’re beautiful.”
At this, he just blinks.
“I love them. I’m just a bit surprised because I thought we weren’t sort of really being serious like that, you know?”
He gently pushes my hand holding the ice away from his face. “Anna, I was just thinking of you and wanted to make you smile. They don’t have to mean anything if you don’t want them to.”
“And meeting your parents?”
His eyes go wide. “Huh. Okay.”
“What?”
“You’re freaking out.”
“I am . . . I am not freaking out. It’s just all a bit sudden.”
He laughs.
“Why are you laughing?” I ask, voice tense.
“Sudden?” he asks with that damn eyebrow raised in query again. “No, come on. We live in each other’s pockets, Anna. This is not sudden.”
“Well, it is for me.”
“You’re kind of in denial then.” He licks his lips. “You’re holding back with me too.”
I don’t know what to say.
“I have been making a concentrated effort to woo you for a while now. Please tell me you’ve noticed.”
“We were taking things slow.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Sort of, but not really.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, you’ve been through a lot. I get it. And I’m all about you taking your time and feeling safe. But, baby, we live together, work together, and sleep together. I don’t see how we could be any more together if we tried,” he says, stopping to take a breath. Like he’s trying to be patient, but right now it’s costing him. “If me buying you flowers or you meeting my folks is upsetting then we’ll put it off for now. But don’t tell me that absolutely nothing’s going on here between us, please. I don’t think my heart could take it.”
I just stare. And hold my beer and the ice.
He takes another deep breath and lets it out slow. “Maybe I’m a bit on edge after the whole Ryan thing. This isn’t something we should be fighting about. Everything will be fine, okay? I’m going to take a minute and cool off, all right?”
“All right.”
And he gets to his feet, goes into his bedroom, and doesn’t come out again that night.