Defining Moments (35 page)

Cord grabs my hands, bringing one to his lips, kissing it gently. I start to speak, but he pulls me forward and presses his lips to mine, silencing me.

When he pulls back, it’s just enough that our foreheads are still pressed together and he takes a deep breath before he begins.

“Ellie, we both made a lot of mistakes during that time. I shouldn’t have gotten upset because you threw our relationship in Justin’s face. I know you only did it to piss him off, not to upset me. I also shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you about the things Bishop and Angelica said to you, because they were 100 percent correct, and I knew it even then. I just wasn’t ready for you to be sucked into that part of my life. We’d just really started opening up to each other, and I wasn’t ready to let you into that part of the crazy shit Maloree put us through. I didn’t want you to think badly of her or me,” he explains. “I would’ve eventually told you, but I was so pissed at Bishop and Angelica for going behind my back and talking to you about it, I flipped out when I overheard them. I obviously handled that badly.”

Cord pulls me to him and I go willingly, ending up in his lap with his arms around me and his face in my hair.

“I’m so sorry, Ellie. You can’t know how sorry I am I pushed you away. I’ve spent the last seven months dealing with my shit, so when you returned, maybe you’d give me the chance to explain and fix it,” he pleads, my heart stopping.

I pull back and look at his face. Is he asking me to try again?

“I need to tell you something,” I confess, his arms instantly loosen and let me pull back from him. “I’ve never told anyone this before, not even Claire.” Deep breath. “When Justin told me he wanted to move out and basically ‘sow his oats,’ he told me he needed more, that basically I wasn’t good enough to make him happy.”

Breathe.

“When I sent the email to you to see how you were doing and you lashed out and said you needed more, I completely shut down,” I tell him honestly, and I can see in his face he is going to try to explain, so I continue quickly. “I know now that you were just upset with me, but that was when I knew I had to learn to love myself again. That I needed to let go of the pain and learn to be okay with who I am, without the approval of any man. I’d had two men in less than a year tell me that they needed more than I was giving them, and it broke me even more because I was weak already. I believed it. I even got to a point so low that I just knew I wasn’t enough for anyone except the people who had to love me because they were my family. It took me months to realize I am enough just the way I am, and if someone can’t love me or want me for who I am, I deserve better. I learned to love who I am, and to accept that I will never be perfect, but that I am okay with that.”

He grabs my face and brings me close to him again. “Ellie, you’re too good for all of us. You’re beautiful, kind, and honest, and the most genuine person I’ve ever met. It guts me to know I made you feel that way. You deserve better than me, E, but I just can’t make myself stop loving you. I just can’t. Believe me, I tried.”

All of the air is sucked from my lungs when I realize what he just said. He sees it in my face and instantly his eyes bug out.

“Wait, don’t freak out. Let me explain. I know we’ve been apart a long time and we’ve both grown and changed a lot over the past seven months, but I know your heart, Ellie, and that hasn’t changed. I know what’s in here,” he presses his hand to my chest, above my heart.

“This scares me, Cord,” I whisper.

“Me too, baby,” he says before pressing his lips to mine. “Call me Saint, please. I love hearing my name come from your lips,” he whispers against my mouth. “Because I am Saint again because of you.”

He lifts me, placing me so my legs are straddling his hips. Pulling me against his chest his mouth finds mine again, running his tongue along the seam of our joined lips. Groaning, he pulls down on my hips, causing his hard body to pulse against mine. When the moan leaves my throat, Cord’s body stills.

“We can’t do this right now, Ellie. We need to finish talking about this,” he croaks out but continues to kiss me.

“I don’t want to talk anymore, Saint. I want you to take me to your bed,” I pause long enough to kiss him, “and make love to me.”

He doesn’t wait for me to tell him twice. He stands from the couch, my legs still around his hips, and walks swiftly toward the stairs.

When he gets to the base of the stairs, he stops and pulls back from the kiss. “Ellie, we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

“Saint Cordero, I don’t ‘want’ you to make love to me, I
need
you too,” I whisper against his mouth.

That’s all it takes before he is running up the stairs, me still attached to him. When he makes it to his room, he sets me down on his bed, before reaching his hand behind his head and dragging his shirt over his head. Jesus this man is perfection, all hard muscle and definition.

He leans between my legs, running his hands up my calves, before bringing his body to tower above mine, barely touching any part of me. As he lowers his mouth to mine, I reach my hands up, running them through his hair. He groans as he drops his body to mine, pressing me deep into the mattress.

He shifts just enough to pull my sundress over my head, before pressing me back down.

“You are so beautiful Ellie,” he growls as he longingly stares down at my now almost naked body. He runs his hands over my ribs, up my neck, cupping my jaw as his mouth once again finds mine.

I feel a sense of loss when I pull away from him, just long enough to rid him of the pants that are limiting my view of his amazing body. I’m almost frantic to feel all of his skin against mine, causing him to chuckle under his breath.

And then Saint does everything possible to make his words to me true. He savors every single inch of my body, like he knows it by heart. The longer it takes, the harder his mouth becomes. Pulling his face to mine, I kiss him with everything I have in me. Every missed moment. Every sleepless night. Every moment we were apart.

He lifts his head to stare into my eyes, just as he pushes into my body, making my world stop. He doesn’t move, but his breathing is deep and rapid, and he lays his forehead on mine, not once taking his eyes off of me. “Perfection,” he whispers, just as he starts to move.

The feel of his body joined with my own is beyond explanation. It’s like my body has come alive for the first time ever, and I never want it to end. Ever. As he rocks into me, his eyes stay trained on mine until the very end; when both of us tense for the moment I’ve only dreamed about. My body shakes and I cry out in pleasure, the tears coming full force.

“Baby, why are you crying?” Saint asks with concern. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head because there is a huge lump in my throat and I’m afraid to try to respond. He pulls me to him and holds me while I cry soundlessly. After a few minutes, Saint lets go and wipes the silent tears away, giving me a questioning look.

“I’ve never felt anything like that, Saint,” I tell him honestly, my voice thick with emotion. “That was a connection that, in my almost forty years of life, I’ve never experienced, and I now know why. You.” He kisses me gently before nodding, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

“I felt it too, E,” he chokes out. “You are it for me. I love you.”

I bury my face into his chest, breathing his scent in deep. “I love you too, Saint Cordero.”

WAKING UP IN SAINT’S
arms is like heaven. When I start to stir, he pulls me closer, nuzzling his face into my hair and sighing in contentment. I giggle because his breath on my neck tickles, which makes him do it on purpose, and then I know he’s awake.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he mumbles into my hair, making me laugh.

“Morning,” I reply, my throat is kind of scratchy, probably from screaming his name half the night. God, what this man can do to my body.

“I need water,” I grumble, pushing away from him.

I throw on Cord’s shirt from last night and head to the kitchen. After filling a glass of water and chugging it, I notice a coffee pot, so I start digging around in his kitchen to make some coffee.

“Snooping through my cabinets already, huh?” his gravelly voice fills the air.

“Actually, I was being a good girlfriend and making us some coffee and breakfast,” I tell him with a smile.

He walks up and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him.

“I can’t even tell you how much I love having you in my kitchen, in my shirt, making us coffee. I was actually scared this would never happen for us,” he tells me honestly.

I nod, knowing we almost lost this chance because we had so much to fix in our own lives.

“Baby, don’t even think about it,” he tells me sternly before flipping me around so I’m facing him. He brings his hands to my face and lifts my head so I have to look at him. “I know we haven’t really finished talking about all of the stupid shit we both did, but know this,” he pauses and presses his lips to mine, before continuing, “we are going to start over and we are going to make it work. If we can go six months without speaking, and almost instantly fall back into each other’s arms, we can do this.”

He takes the coffee pot from my hand, sets it down on the counter, lifts me up and wraps my legs around his waist, and just like that, the conversation is over. He’s absolutely right, and I’m not going to even attempt to fight it.

“Can I ask you a question without you getting mad? It’s something I’ve been wondering, and if I don’t know the answer, I’ll always wonder,” I ask him honestly.

“You can ask me anything, Ellie. I won’t get mad,” he replies, setting me down on the counter, and starts making coffee.

“Have you been with anyone since you met me? I mean, after I left, did you date at all?” I ask timidly. He studies my face for a minute before he responds.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Ellie.” He pauses and my heart stops because I am now unsure if I want to know this information. “I went out on a date a few months after you left. I thought, if I put myself back out there, it would help me get over you, but it didn’t work. I went out on one date, it was a disaster and that was the end of my attempt at dating.” I nod once and start fidgeting with my empty coffee cup. “Ellie, I didn’t sleep with her. I can see it written all over your face. Before last night, it’d been a really long time since I had a woman in my bed, or any bed for that matter.” He takes the cup from my hands and puts it on the counter, his finger raising my chin to look at him.

“Now answer your own question, Ellie. Has there been anyone other than me since we met?” And now it’s his turn to look worried.

“No,” I murmur. “No other dates. Saint, you’re the only man I’ve slept with beside Justin. I’ve always had very old-school feelings about sex. I firmly believe it should only be shared between two people who truly care about each other.”

He pulls my head to his and kisses me deeply. “I couldn’t agree more,” he croaks out.

And then he takes me to his room and once again shows me how deep his feelings for me really are.

One Year Later . . .

“MOOOOOOMMM!”

Don’t answer him. He knows I hate that.

“Mom!”

“Destry Joseph Harper! Stop it right now! Come down here to talk to me . . . and you better have clothes on when you do!” I scream up the stairs.

Destry moved in with Saint and me last week because Sara moved in with Eli, and Ben decided to live in the dorms. To say the boys had had enough of living together was an understatement. They literally did nothing but fight all the time. Destry will be moving into an apartment with a few of his friends from school. One of the roommates just graduated and is leaving, so Destry is taking his room.

“Have you seen my BSU sweatshirt?” Destry asks as he walks into the living room where I’m sitting.

“It’s in the hamper, Dez. You wore it like two days ago,” I laugh.

“You haven’t done laundry since then?” he asks seriously.

“Um, in case you forgot, you’re nineteen years old, mister. You can do your own damn laundry. Just cause you live here doesn’t mean we revert back to me doing all your chores for you.” I laugh at the look of horror on his face.