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Authors: Noelle Adams

Reconciled for Easter (20 page)

BOOK: Reconciled for Easter
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Mia nodded gravely. “Yes. It’s okay. It’s like Daddy said.”

“What did Daddy say?”

“He said he looks at me and loves me, no matter what happens. Even if I’m sick or I’m bad or anything. Because I’m his. He looks at us and loves us. It’s that way with us and Daddy, right? We look at him and love him—even if he’s crabby from work or not living with us—because he’s ours.”

“Yes,” Abigail said slowly, the emotion that had been so close to the surface all day rising up again at the sweet words. “That’s exactly right.”

She hugged Mia close, fighting back the burning in her eyes, since she didn’t want to cry and scare the little girl.

And, when Mia got up and went to throw away their empty cups, Abigail suddenly knew exactly what she needed to do.

Mia had been exactly right. Abigail looked at Thomas and loved him. Still. No matter how much work it might still take to make their marriage what it should be. And she suddenly knew—knew, without any doubt or question—that Thomas looked at her and loved her too.

***

Abigail had to call Jessica up and ask if Mia could come visit Nathan for an hour or two, so she could go talk to Thomas. Mia wanted to come to see her father too, but Abigail knew they could never have the conversation they needed if their daughter was present, so she promised to bring Daddy back with her, if at all possible.

This seemed to satisfy Mia, who was excited about seeing baby Nathan and talking to Jessica about books. If Jessica knew what was happening—as she almost certainly did—she never revealed a clue, just acted casual and friendly as she and Bear welcomed Mia inside.

Abigail drove over to Thomas’s house, a big, rambling Victorian on several acres. She parked in the driveway and sat staring at the front door, trying to work up the courage to go knock.

Now that she was here, she was terrified again. She’d hurt Thomas. A lot. Evidently, he hadn’t been answering his phone, even when his sister tried to call him. He’d poured so much into their relationship over the last few months, and she’d rewarded it with nothing but a broken heart. Eventually, he would give up and find someone who treated him better.

She fought against the feelings, though, knowing they weren’t based in truth, and she made herself get out of the car and walk up the door. She rang the doorbell. Then waited, hugging her arms to her chest.

After a minute, she heard slow steps coming toward the door, creaking on the old hardwood of the front hall. Then there was a pause. He probably looked out to see who it was.

Then suddenly the door swung open so quickly it left her breathless.

Thomas stared at her. He wore a t-shirt and the bunny pajama pants that Mia had picked out for him, and his face was stretched far more than normal, dark shadows under his eyes.

He didn’t look like he’d slept at all. He looked terrible and wonderful and exactly like Thomas. Every feeling and instinct in her body and heart reached out toward him in absolute need.

“Hi,” she said stupidly, when he kept staring at her in silence.

His eyes moved over her shoulder, to her car, and then back up the walk to her face again—like he was checking to see if Mia was present.

“She’s at Jessica and Daniel’s,” Abigail explained. “So I could come talk to you.”

Thomas’s frozen composure cracked then. She could see it quite clearly. It cracked just like the flood of her own emotions had cracked earlier when she’d been talking to Jessica.

He made a rough, guttural sound, his face almost contorting with powerful feeling, and he reached out to pull her into his arms.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held her, and he was real and warm and strong and weak and human. He was
Thomas
.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, his face buried in her hair. “I’m so sorry if I pressured you or tried to push you into something too fast.”

“You didn’t—”

“I know I did. I was just so excited. I’ve wanted you back so much for so long, that I wasn’t thinking about how fast we were moving. But I promise I can be patient. I’ll wait just as long as you need. I’m not expecting any sort of final answer or commitment, but please say you won’t give up on us completely. I know how hard it is. I know how tired we both still are. I know it can’t all be fixed just because we both might want it to be. I can wait however long you need. I love you, baby. I
love
you, and that’s never going to change.”

He’d finally loosened his grip and pulled back, but only to take her face in both of his hands. “I want you to believe me one day. I want you to know for sure how strong and sweet and brave and beautiful you are to me. But, if you don’t, I’ll still love you. Nothing is going to make me stop.”

She raised her hands to cover his on her face and was momentarily blinded by tears. “I do believe you,” she managed to choke out. “I do believe you. I love you too.”

He looked like someone had socked him in the gut—absolutely dumbfounded.

“I love you, Thomas,” she said again, lowering his hands from her face and taking both of them in hers. “I still love you. I never stopped. And I know I’m too tired and not strong enough to fight all my old struggles, but the real fight has already been won. And the rest I don’t have to do alone. I know that now. I think I finally…I finally see it. So I want to love you all the way. If you’ll help me. If you’ll do it with me. If we can really do this together. That’s what I came over here to say.”

When the words finally processed, he made another one of those strangled sounds and gathered her into his arms again.

Since she hadn’t quite finished, she said against his shirt, “I know we still have some work to do. I know we’re never going to be perfectly fixed, so I need to stop expecting that. We can still go to counseling for a while, if that’s okay with you. But I want to be your wife again. All the way. I want us to live together again. I love you, and you love me, and I want to finally live that out.”

He was shuddering against her, beneath her hands. She’d never once in her life seen him like this—so absolutely uncomposed.

If she hadn’t known it before, there was no way to deny it now. This man felt deeply. He loved deeply. And all of the depth and power of his passion and devotion was focused on her, was given to her, was spread like a benediction over
her
.

Twelve

 

When the hug finally ended, Thomas still stood in the doorway, gazing down at her. At long last, they seemed to understand each other.

Finally, Thomas said, “Did you want to come in and talk about it?”

“Yeah. I do. But, before that, do you think maybe you could kiss me?”

There had been a lilt to her tone, so Thomas was chuckling warmly as he pulled her into the house, closed the door behind them, then leaned down and claimed her mouth.

Abigail instinctively twined her arms around his neck, holding his head in place with one hand. He slid his tongue along the line of her lips until she opened for him. Then his tongue met hers, and Abigail groaned into his mouth at the resulting sensations and feelings.

It felt real, completely, like a concrete manifestation of how they were really together again.

The kiss got really deep really fast, since both of them were pretty stretched in their emotions. Soon, Abigail could feel Thomas’s hard arousal rubbing against her, and her own body was squirming with increasing urgency.

When Thomas finally tore his mouth away from hers, he panted a few times. “Did you want to talk now?”

She assessed the state of her heart and her body and said hoarsely, “We can if you want. Or we can…do something else first.”

“Do we need to get Mia anytime soon?”

“No. Jessica said she could stay for a few hours.”

His skin was slightly damp, and he rubbed his forehead. “I don’t want to pressure you to anything too soon, but do you think—”

“Thomas,” she interrupted. “Of course, we can have sex. What did you think I meant by something else. I’m your wife, and I’m dying to.”

He let out his breath in a rush, his face transforming with relief. “Then shall we go upstairs? Because, honestly, if we don’t, I might just lose it right here in the entry hall.”

She giggled helplessly and then let him grab her hand as they both hurried up the stairs to his bedroom.

There, he kissed her again and then swung her down onto the bed, causing a thrill of excitement to run through her, a top note to the current of deep emotion.

When he moved over her, Abigail felt another thrill, this time centered in a very specific location. She maneuvered her legs so that her thighs were on either side of his hips.

When Thomas just gazed at her again, she said, “I thought you wanted to make love.”

“I do. You better believe I do.”

“You’re just staring at me.”

“I can’t help it. I feel like a miracle happened, like the world just came back to life.”

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down into a kiss. “Maybe it did.”

Thomas kissed her with slow, sensual care. The press of his hot, hard body was delicious, and the vibrations from his suppressed laughter and emotion generated shivers of pleasure, shooting down to her growing arousal.

Abigail tried to stroke his hair with her fingertips, but as the swell of excitement built inside her, she ended up clutching more than caressing.

Her feelings were just too powerful to contain.

By the time his tongue had thoroughly explored her mouth and teased her tongue into fluttering, Abigail was making smothered moans in the back of her throat and arching up to rub herself against him. “Thomas, please don’t stall.”

“I’m not stalling, baby. I’m trying to contain myself so I don’t totally lose it. But, I promise, I’ll give you anything you want.”

Abigail’s breathing sped up to shallow pants as he took off her clothes, tenderly kissing the skin that was revealed. Then she gave a little squeak of pleasure when he mouthed just beneath her belly button. Her blood was coursing through her heated body, and her mind was clouding with desire. He was pressing kisses on different spots of her stomach—each perfectly placed to both surprise and stimulate her.

Thomas mouthed one of her breasts, and then he flicked his tongue, making her jerk up her knee. “So beautiful.”

“I love you, Thomas.” Abigail gasped, almost writhing as he twirled her nipple with his tongue and his lips. “So much.”

Thomas lowered his head again to give her breasts more attention. Soon, she was biting her lip to keep from moaning too loudly as he suckled one breast with his mouth and fondled the other with his hand.

She was bucking up her hips involuntarily, trying to get some friction against her throbbing arousal. She knew Thomas was aroused too—he’d been aroused from the beginning—but he was tightly controlling himself and he hadn’t yet lost his restraint.

When she started clawing at his back through his shirt, Abigail finally panted, “Thomas! I’m turned on. You’re killing me now.”

Thomas raised his head to look up at her flushed, damp face, and Abigail took advantage of his distraction to grab fistfuls of his shirt so she could pull it off over his head.

He raised his hands to help her get it off. “I want it to be really good for you,” he murmured, his gaze so hot and tender that she wanted to melt into the bed.

His words and the sentiment touched her deeply, but a sliver of irony rose up, prompting her to say, “Well, if you don’t get moving, I’m going to take matters in hand, and it’s going to be good for me, all by myself.”

He stifled a burst of laughter and pulled her up into an embrace. After kissing her hard and deep, he mouthed a wet trail along her jaw and to her ear. “Keep making me laugh like that,” he murmured thickly, “And we might have an unfortunate incident”

Abigail was torn between appreciative laughter and a secret thrill of delight. She knew Thomas was teasing, but he wouldn’t have teased about it unless his declining control was really an issue.

And the thought that Thomas was so affected by her was the deepest kind of aphrodisiac.

Thomas had shifted his position above her, so that the hard bulge in his pants was in line with her groin. She folded her legs up on either side of his hips. She whimpered at the stimulation, and started to grind against him urgently.

“Fuck!” Thomas gasped, straightening his arms and holding himself still. His features were twisted with effort. “Abigail, baby, I wasn’t kidding.”

She stopped rubbing against him and just stared up at his damp face, her mind whirling with the sensations and with what Thomas had just revealed.

“Sorry.” Her hands settled on his shoulders and she smiled up at him shyly. “I didn’t mean to.”

He chuckled again—thick and hoarse—and then he leaned down to kiss her. “You can do whatever you want. I just wanted you to know there might be consequences.”

She giggled at his wry tone. “An unfortunate incident.”

“It is a possibility. It’s been a really long couple of days,” he admitted.

Abigail’s face softened. “I know. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t. We’re together now. We’re not looking back.”

Abigail reached over to push down his flannel pants until he was as naked as she was. Then she spread her thighs to make room for him between them, weaving her fingers together at the back of his neck.

After giving her another quick kiss, Thomas reached down and slid two of his fingers against her hot, aroused flesh. Abigail sucked in her breath. Then gave a little moan as he sunk his fingers inside her.

Having determined that she was ready for him, Thomas pulled his fingers out and lined his erection up at her entrance.

Then, with a rock of his hips, he slid himself in, the substance of him pushing into the very tight clasp of her body.

Abigail grunted and arched her back up, her arms flying out to clutch at the blanket beneath her as he pushed in more deeply.

“Abigail,” Thomas rasped, his body tensing dramatically and his head jerking to the side. “Oh, fuck.”

Breathing deeply and relaxing around him, Abigail desperately hoped he wasn’t going to lose it.

It might be thrilling that he wanted her so much, but it would be a bit of a letdown if it was over before it started.

He was breathing through his nose, so heavily his nostrils were flaring. But after a minute he looked back down at her questioning face and anxious eyes. “No worries. You can move now.”

She couldn’t stifle a relieved chuckle. “Oh, good.” She adjusted her legs, and reached up to hold onto his bare shoulders.

“I think it’s the overload of emotion.” He shifted his knees, which caused his erection to slide inside her a little. Then his mouth twitched slightly. “I’m usually a man of iron control.”

Abigail stroked his face tenderly “I know.”

Thomas braced himself on his arms, and his expression changed--grew both hot and focused. Abigail felt her arousal pulsing again, intensified by the solid feel of him inside her.

Responding to her implicit challenge, Thomas pulled his pelvis back until only the tip of his erection was inside her. Then he thrust back in, with a long, tight slide.

Hissing in a breath, Abigail arched her neck and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the delicious sensations.

Thomas pulled back again and gave another long thrust, the push of his hard flesh stimulating her inner walls on both the withdrawal and the advance.

“So good,” she breathed as he continued, rocking her hips up to meet each of his thrusts. It felt right and good and somehow freeing. As if was really her, and he was really Thomas—their real selves and not the masks they put on.

Thomas’s eyes were devouring her face, her naked breasts, and her sprawled hair. “You’re so beautiful, baby. I’ve never wanted anyone but you.”

Abigail whimpered in response, feeling almost as much from his gaze and his voice as she was from the motion of him inside her. “I’ve never wanted anyone but you either.”

Thomas’s tense face broke into a smile, and he reared up even farther, changing the angle of his penetration.

Abigail cried out in startled pleasure and let go of his shoulders again, her arms going above her head and fumbling for purchase on the pillow.

Thomas was so tight that the muscles in his chest and arms were visibly clenched. He was watching her with heated possession. “Can you come, baby?”

Abigail almost sobbed as the pleasure became torturous because she couldn’t quite find her release. “Think so,” she panted.

She managed to focus enough to move one of her arms down and squeeze her hand between their bellies. Thomas had to pull up even farther, but she fumbled around near where they were connected—brushing her knuckles against the base of Thomas’s shaft—until she was able to press two fingertips against her clit.

As soon as she rubbed a tight circle, she felt a rush of relieving pleasure.

Perspiration was running down the side of his face now, and all of his features were rigid with effort except his eyes—which were still raking over her. “Come, baby. Come.”

Her voice was almost embarrassingly shrill, but she couldn’t care as her orgasm began to overwhelm her. “Thomas!”

She came on the word, her body starting to convulse as all of the luscious pressure was finally released inside her.

“Fuck,” Thomas grunted, thrusting with primitive urgency into her clenching muscles in short, rapid strokes. “Abigail, baby.”

She was coming down from her climax, just as Thomas was finally letting go. So she held onto him with her legs and her free arm and gazed up at his tense face.

It took him a minute before he could release the last thread of his control, and there was something incongruously intimate about holding him like this, watching him take pleasure in her so visibly, nakedly.

His pelvis jerked erratically—having totally fallen out of rhythm—and it felt like inside was swelling inside the tightened clasp of her channel. Then his twisting features abruptly transformed in a rush of tangible relief.

He froze on a muffled, incoherent exclamation. Then gave a few, hard, spasmodic jerks inside her.

Then he was coming, moaning hoarsely as he gave into his release.

Her eyes were burning, and for some reason Abigail felt almost as affected by watching him come as she'd been from coming herself. She pulled her hand out from between their bodies and wrapped both of her arms around him, holding him with strong urgency as she felt him finally begin to relax.

He bent his arms and folded his forearms beneath her shoulders, so he could return her embrace.

He didn’t say anything. Neither did she. They both just gasped and clutched at the other, and Thomas lowered his head until he was breathing hotly against her hair.

And she felt whole then. Like
they
were whole. Like they were really one.

And she managed to say with the last of her breath, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

He smiled and said, “I do.”

***

They went to pick up Mia when they pulled themselves together, and all of them went out for an early dinner.

Mia was obviously thrilled to see that Thomas was with them, but she didn’t ask any questions about why he was there or what had happened between them.

Maybe things were simpler for her, or maybe she was just waiting to see what happened. It was hard to tell with Mia.

BOOK: Reconciled for Easter
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