Rug Burns (Reviving Haven Book 2) (16 page)

He bent forward as his forehead touched mine. “Oh, babe, I wish time would make a difference, but it’s been five years. I shouldn’t have asked you right now. I should have waited until after we got back.”

It had slipped my mind we were going abroad to celebrate Latch’s thirtieth birthday. I was apprehensive, but I needed a sounding board. So Haven would get to hear my woes. I wasn’t even sure how to explain this to her. I knew she was team Keenan all the way. I was team Keenan too. The thought of never seeing him again or waking up next to him left me torn on the inside. What I felt for him might never be real love, but it was the closest thing I’d ever know. I wasn’t sure I could walk away from all of this. He was my primary person. The one I could always count on.

“We’ll revisit this conversation after we return. Maybe Haven will give you advice. I’ve waited this long, so another two weeks I can do. I’m not asking you to wear the ring, but hold on to it while you consider everything. I am sorry I was duplicitous with you,” he said as his hand squeezed mine. “I love you, and I need that useless piece of paper. I need to define us, at least for myself. I want to call you wife. More than that, I need you to call me husband. Nothing will change. I promise. No matter what, I’ll know that you’ll always be taken care of. I want to provide you with something beyond monetary. I want to be your emotional shelter and refuge.”

For the first time since Haven told me she was pregnant, actual tears stung my eyes. I’d managed for years to subdue any kind of crying because I’d always associated the act with weakness. I squeezed them back. He’d caught me off guard with his proposal and his words. Along with the anguish, I was feeling emotionally vulnerable. I was also suffocating. Even the thought of marriage was stifling. But now I’d been given an ultimatum. I had fourteen days to choose ownership or a solitary life.

Present

What the hell had I been thinking? I look over just as the passenger next to me, this gray-haired old lady, winks at me. Jesus, I’m astonished she hasn’t had a coronary from all the explicit details and F bombs. “I so apologize for baring my soul to you. I’m very embarrassed. Get a few drinks into me and my mouth just has a mind of its own.”

The woman begins to cackle as she pats my arm. “Oh my, but it has been entertaining. I thought this flight would be boring as hell until I recognized you.”

This woman knows who I am. Fuck me. All I need now is for her to give my story to some reporter. I unloaded my life history to a complete stranger. Details I’ve never told anyone. My personal, private thoughts. Fuck my life. Too many vodka martinis have loosened my lips. I’d planned to sleep through this extended flight, hoping first class would be deserted this time of year. Evidently, I needed someone to talk to, and this person filled my needs.

“Ruby Stalls,” she announces as she holds out her hand. “I already know who you are, dear. Weezie Miller.”

I blush, which is something I rarely do. Embarrassment isn’t one of my virtues, but the words I used and the sexual descriptions… And ohmigod, I told her about Keenan’s cock. What the hell? I need to quit getting intoxicated. Maybe lock myself in the bathroom. Since, obviously, when I drink, I have no filter.

“I am so sorry, Ruby. What you must think. To be honest, I don’t display this kind of behavior to anyone, let alone someone I don’t even know. No excuse except too much booze and apparently verbal diarrhea.”

“You’re in pain. If talking about it helped, then I’m glad. You’ve led a rather compelling life for someone so young.”

I haven’t been referred to as young in a long time. Compared to her, I suppose I am. I hope I look as pulled together as she does at her advanced age. With the exception of the gray hair, she has a youthful appearance and her mind seems sharp.

“When I recognized you, I couldn’t believe it. Keenan Stone’s girlfriend,” she whispers, turning her mouth close to my ear. “How lucky you are. I was with my Franklin for over fifty years, but I would have filed for divorce with the promise of one night with your man.” She chuckles.

“Your husband?” I question.

“Franklin passed away almost two years ago. God rest his soul. He was a good man. We have five children, seven grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. We had a wonderful life. But when you get to be my age and you’re suddenly single, it gets lonely. By the way, I’m eighty years young.”

I internally groan as she continues, wondering if I’ve traumatized her with my tales of perversion. I not only told her about me, but Keenan, and threw Latch and Haven under the bus with my sordid stories.
Ugh! Kill me now.

“My children have been flying me everywhere. I had a bucket list of places. France, Greece, Africa, and Scotland. They wanted me to get out of the house and live life again, and they figured thousands of miles away would be good for me,” she laughs.

I have to admit she’s down to earth for a senior citizen. She doesn’t appear shocked by the revelations I spouted off during the last nine hours.

“Once again, I am appalled that I unloaded all my shi—stuff on you. You must think I’m a very shallow and selfish person. I left him in Scotland you know,” I murmur as I wave the attendant over for another drink. I’m already buzzed, so one more drink isn’t going to make any difference. I’ve already blabbed every intimate detail about my life to a stranger. I’m going to have one hell of a hangover, but I don’t care.

Ruby chooses to have another also. “You know what they say, Weezie—liquid courage.” She smiles as she takes a sip. “That’s not your real name, is it? What does that dreamy man of yours call you?”

He is most likely calling me many things currently. Bitch. Whore. Deceitful, lying cunt. I wince. “I’ve always gone by that name. My parents named me after some famous author my mom liked. Horrible name, so I’ve been calling myself Weezie since I was a teenager. I guess it stuck.”

I have no fucking clue why I’m telling her this. I don’t think I even shared that fact with Keenan.

“So, Weezie, what are you going to do about your man? You certainly can’t let him sit on the fence with his prick dangling in the wind.”

I choke on my drink. God, this is me at eighty. I’m getting a sneak peek at my future.

“I may be old, dear, but I’m not dead—at least not yet. You have a decision to make. Are you open to my opinion? Because I have one.”

I nod as I take another sip. We will be landing in less than an hour. The truth is I needed a sounding board, and I’ve found one in Ruby. Maybe she has insight.

“I don’t think human beings, us, were meant to be singular creatures. I think the plan was for us to love and be loved. Franklin and I had good times as well as bad in over fifty years of marriage, but no matter what, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. We all need a reason to be, and sometimes that is another person. I think Keenan is yours. He’s your purpose.

“My dear, you have put that man through the ringer. Personally, I don’t know if staying with you the last five years makes him a hero or a putz. Do you honestly believe your mother and father would want you to be alone your entire life? I seriously doubt any parents would want the path you chose, but he stayed with you anyway. And you can deny, deny, and deny, but you
love
him. I feel it in my bones. You can try to ignore it, but real undying love will settle right below the skin and eventually find its way back into your heart. If you walk away, you’ll always feel emptiness… an unfinished part of life. You can try to fill that space with men and
puff chores
, but it will never be enough. You will always remember the way it was with Keenan.”

Okay, I seriously cringe. There is definitely something inappropriate about a great-grandmother using the term puff chore. The only thing worse would have been the word blowjob coming from her mouth. I am so burning in hell for corrupting a senior citizen.

“It doesn’t matter. He hates me. I fucking left him. I didn’t even say anything. I just ran. I’m not a good person, Ruby. I’ve never had the guts or the inclination to admit it, but I am horrible. Keenan should take me leaving as a sign and move on. I’m not good enough for him.”

She turns as she reaches in for a hug. The warmth that radiates from her reminds me of my mom. I haven’t thought about her in many years because she would be disappointed in the choices I’ve made and who I’ve become.

“After listening to you, frankly, I’m not sure if there’s anything you could do to stifle that man’s intentions. He’s too in love with you. I’ll bet he’ll forgive you if you declare your love for him. I need you to be honest. Do you love him?”

It has been weighing me down forever. Crushing and squeezing my heart. Making it hard to breathe. Giving rise to wild emotions. Thinking a man is only a sexual necessity. I don’t need one to complete my life. Telling myself I’m not good enough. Not worthy. Making myself believe I’d be better off without him.

But I’m a liar. I’ve spent five years refusing to acknowledge what I already knew. I have feelings for him. I have no idea when I realized it, but the constant denials have tormented me each day. I've wanted desperately to believe I am deserving of him. I can give him what he wants and be the woman he needs. Regardless of what happens, time itself will never erase his memory from my soul.

“I don’t think there’s enough room in my heart for how much I love him.”

I sigh. I silently admitted it to Haven, but not to myself, not really. Yet now I chose to confess my true feelings to someone I’ve just met. The constant anvil of fear has lifted from my chest. I’ve been having a battle between me and myself for so long. Unfortunately, it’s probably too late. I humiliated him in front of his friends and abandoned him. I didn’t even have the common courtesy to say good-bye. I’m an insensitive person.

I hear a quiet snort from Ruby as she finishes her drink. “I never doubted you for a moment. So you are going to marry him. Please say I can be the first to know.”

I take a deep breath. “Telling him I love him is one thing. Marrying him, oh, I don’t know. I don’t get the significance of that piece of paper.”

“It may be insignificant to you, but he deems it important. My dear, you will be withdrawing him from the female market. You will have procured the sexiest man alive as your husband. You should have a damn parade.”

A thinly veiled smile curves my lips as I let her words sink in. “Well, first, I have to get him to hear me out. I promised him an answer, and I’m pretty sure he views ditching him as me saying no.”

“Oh, I have great faith in Mr. Stone. He’s put up with too much of your shenanigans to give up so easy,” she says as she hiccups. “I know this is a lot to ask, but can you maybe let me know how it works out?”

“I can do that. But I’m hoping you’ll keep my stories and our conversation strictly confidential. I could seriously kick my own ass for being so open with you, and the tabloids would like nothing better than to pen a story about Keenan’s appendage.”

Ruby giggles. “I meant to ask if you were telling me a cock-and-bull story, so to speak, or if it’s really yea big.” She spreads out her hands wide.

My memory flashes back to a time when I asked Haven about how big Keenan’s cock was after they’d first met at a photo shoot. This elderly woman is Haven and me in the future. We would still be having chats about our men’s junk at eighty.

I nod my head in confirmation.

“You are one fortunate woman. We don’t always get the entire package. Handsome, a gentleman, great in the sack, rich, and evidently, the patience of a saint. You should be thanking your lucky stars. And us meeting on this flight—never happened. My lips are sealed. I won’t tell a soul.” Ruby says before she closes her lips tightly and pretends to lock them and mimics throwing away a key.

When we land, we give each other our phone numbers and email addresses. I have a feeling this new acquaintance will turn into a friendship that will last for years to come.

My
body feels lighter as I grab my luggage and head toward the waiting car. I originally planned to go to the beach house but decide last minute to go to my condo. I’ve kept the place vacant for the last several months because I had a premonition I might need it. I thought about walking away from Keenan many times. But doing so hurt me down to the depths of my inner core. I think this is what they mean by soul mates. Being separated from him is bad enough, but never seeing him again would be the equivalent to losing my parents.

My place is dark and stuffy. I quickly unlock the windows, then draw open the blinds. I can smell rain in the air as I stare at the thunderous clouds. What I want is a bath. I’ve missed my pedestal tub, and while I’m soaking, I’ll derive a plan. I turn on some music, then begin to fill the tub. I pull off my clothes and slide in. Jesus, I’ve missed this. Twelve showerheads are great, but nothing compares to this luxury.

I stay in until the bubbles are gone and the water grows tepid. I change into sleepwear, then make my way to the kitchen. I snatch a bag of chips and a pint of gin. This is my secret stash kept in the upper far right cabinet. The chips are seven months expired, and I’ve already had enough to drink. Besides, I hate gin. I grab my phone, and forty-five minutes later, chicken chow mien, egg rolls, and fortune cookies are delivered. I could have done without the cookies. I’m the only one who can change my fortune, and currently, it looks bleak.

The rain begins to fall as I eat. I turn on the television for a bit, but I’m tired. My bones ache from the long flight. I try to hit pause on my thoughts, but what am I going to say to Keenan?
I needed space, so I thought I’d leave you in another country and take the ten-hour flight home alone.
Or better yet,
Hey, I met an eighty-year-old woman who I told the most intimate secrets of our sex life, and by the way, I might have mentioned you have a humongous cock.
I groan loudly.
Damn, it doesn’t even sound good in my own head.

Tomorrow is another day, and at some point, I’ll have to face him. Either to justify my actions or end it. I need to call Haven too. I have no doubts she’s furious as well as frustrated with me. I have disappointed everyone, including myself.

I settle in my bed just as I hear a tapping sound. I go to the living room and grab the bat behind the door. It has always been my security weapon of choice. My mouth gapes open as I peer through the peephole.

Judgment day has come—early. I put it down and unlock the door.

“You’re still hiding the bat behind the door instead of setting the security system I paid for?” Keenan asks. He doesn’t sound angry, which makes me rather hopeful.

“What are you doing here?” I question as he barrels past me.

I’ve never seen him look so casual. The worn jeans with just a T-shirt stretched over his hard-bodied chest have me salivating for a touch. The ends of his blond hair have curled from the light rain. His eyes are so vivid they scorch me everywhere he stares. I forgot I’m wearing boy shorts and a sheer tank top. My nipples suddenly become erect from his gaze. Our eyes meet as I watch him lick his lips. Sexual attraction has never been an issue. This is just another case of us wanting to fuck each other. I can feel my sex clench from my thoughts. As though he can read my mind, I see his erection become prominent.

“Just tell me why.”

I sigh as I pinch the edge of my top. I then cross my arms to hide my breasts. “I just had to leave. You scared me with the impending countdown. You know how I hate to be told what to do outside of the bedroom,” I say, adding that last part hoping to throw some irony into the conversation.

“If you don’t love me and we don’t have a future, you could have told me that before we went to Scotland. Haven made a hundred excuses for you. Latch thinks you’re just jerking me around and I should move on.”

“Fucking cocksucker man whore,” I mutter under my breath.

“Reformed man whore whatever. I left right after I found out you were gone. Tell me you don’t love me. Just say it. At least then we can be finished and I can go.”

I can’t explain it. It feels so foreign to me. But I begin to cry. The sadness and anguish I’m experiencing just erupts. It’s like an outburst of emotional baggage I’ve carried for so long and it’s gotten too heavy. Within two minutes, I go from crying to hysterical sobbing to the cursed hiccups. Keenan’s face is a mask of horror. He’s never witnessed me losing it. I’m sure, after five years, he thought I was emotionally stunted. I never wanted him to witness me like this. I’d rather him think I’m aloof and cold. Everything I feel now is alien to me. I had no idea I was even capable of this kind of sentiment. He’s never seen me this melodramatic, and he is lost. I’m sure he’s seen other women cry, but I’ve always been unbending. Now, I openly display my weakness, knowing the one thing that can break and cripple me. Him.

“Baby, fuck… please… I can’t bear to see you cry. I can just go. I never meant to cause you this pain. Stop. You’re killing me,” he murmurs as he pulls me into a tight embrace.

I sob into his T-shirt, wiping my snotty nose on his sleeve. This is what women view as an ugly cry. Tears I have suppressed all my life flowing all at once.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Kee,” I bellow.

He pushes my hair away from my face as his eyes move to my mouth. I can see he’s emotional too and his eyes are damp. It only makes me weep more.

“Just tell me what you want, baby, and I’ll do anything. Even if it means giving you up and walking away, I will. I love you too much to see you in such agony. But I need to know what you want. I’ve never known true helplessness until I found out you’d left me. I didn’t feel complete again until you opened your door. But if I’m not who you want, I’ll go, because you’re the only thing that matters. I’d give it all up. You’re it. I knew it the first time we met. The minute you made me laugh. And when I got to know you, it changed everything. When you look at me, you see me—just a man. The money, the fame—it means nothing to you. I’ve never had that before. In your eyes, I’m just Kee, and to me, that’s my entire reason for being. Weezie, you are why I wake up in the morning and why my day isn’t complete until I lie beside you at night. You’re who I want to spend my life with.”

At the end of his monologue, he claims my mouth as he traces his tongue along the seam of my lips, pressing his body flush with mine, devouring me. I kiss him back with urgency. His breath in my lungs is life-affirming air. I pant softly as I break away from him. My tears have been supressed.

“I need you to make love to me,” I say quietly as I cling to his shirt. I can feel his heart hammering through his chest as I speak my confession.

When I stare up at him, he looks stunned. His eyes display disbelief. I’ve never asked him before. I always referred to us having sex as fucking. As much as I enjoy hard and dirty, what I need right now is slow and tender.

“I don’t understand,” he says, pulling back slightly.

“I love you,” I say as I pull my tank over my head. The words feel unfamiliar. I never had the chance to express those feelings to my parents, and Haven has been the only recipient of the actual words.

“How do you know?” he croaks out as his eyes greedily shift to my bare breasts.

I sigh. “I think I always knew. I always felt it. I just didn’t want to concede. I spent so much time trying to discourage myself from the inevitable. It took a stranger to make me say the words and admit the truth.

“I don’t understand, Weezie. A stranger?” he questions as he moves closer and reaches out to cup my neck.

“It was a long flight, and it appears excessive drinking made me quite chatty. It seems I told my life story to an eighty-year-old woman.”

He chuckles into the curve of my neck. “And she’s still alive? No one had to resuscitate her after you described in detail your wicked ways? Umm… you didn’t bring up my cock, did you?”

“I might have touched on it.”

“Maybe you should touch on it now.”

His lips trace a line from my neck and capture a nipple, sucking it into a hard tip. I bend backward as he continues to lick and nip both nipples. My pussy begins to throb as I crush myself against his thighs. I rub my body roughly against his hard shaft. I hear a growl come from him as our breathing grows desperate.

“I want to fuck you so badly, but we really need to sort out this shit first. Stop doing that,” he quips as he pulls me off him. His hand goes to his crotch to attempt manual arranging of his junk.

My pussy is at defcon one, along with my nipples. “I don’t want us to fuck anymore, Kee. I need you to make love to me, please.” I am pleading.

Keenan shakes his head. I can tell his body is fighting him. His brain might want a logical conversation, but his cock has a mind of its own—and it doesn’t want to talk.

“Tell me again. Tell me you love me,” he says as he backs away toward the sofa.

I rub my red, swollen eyes with one hand. “I love you, Keenan Stone.”

The sexiest, most beautiful man in the world rests his head in his hands as he sits on the sofa. When I hear his soft sobs, my immediate thought is to comfort this man. I move over to him and place a kiss on the top of his head. He looks up as our eyes meet.

I slide his shirt over his head, then pull him to me. I pepper his bare chest with kisses, as I bend to circle my tongue around his belly button. I continue tracing a path down to his waistband. I unbuckle his belt, then his jeans. I can hear his breathing begin to deepen. I tug down his jeans until he kicks them off. I grasp his jutting cock with both hands as I hear him hiss. Prominent veins bulge as an engorged crown leaks pearly drops of goodness, tempting me to taste him. But what I want is a connection.

“Make love to me.” I moan.

“Anything for you, baby. But I have conditions.”

“I figured as much,” I say, struggling to pull down my boy shorts. Once they’re on the floor, we both stand in front of each other naked.

“I’m going to ask you again. Will you marry me, Louisa Ann Miller,” he asks, falling once again to one knee.

It’s hard to be mad at a man who calls you by your given name while on one knee, proposing marriage. A naked Keenan Stone is nothing to sneeze at. But seeing him kneeling and nude—that would make a proud selfie.

“Yes, a million time yes—but I have stipulations too,” I reply.

“And they are?”

It’s hard to think clearly when the man you thought you lost is now standing in front of you sans clothing. I’ll have plenty of time post fucking to come up with my requirements. But for right now, as much as I enjoy the view, we need the ring. I pad over to the bar and grab my purse. Once I find the box, I hand it to Keenan. He quickly pulls out the cock-sized jewel and slides it onto my left hand.

I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as I kiss him. He carries me to the bedroom.

“Loving you has never been easy, but it is worth it. I knew the minute we met at the gala you would be a force of nature. A force that would influence my life forever.”

I snicker. I’ve been referred to as many things, but never a force of nature.

“Yeah, well, I knew you would be a pain in my ass and a thorn in my side. But somehow I fell in love with you regardless,” I said, teasing.

“You were supposed to fuck me and go home, Kee. I never imagined you’d hang around for five years. I was always worried you’d leave me for a younger model. I mean, what’s going to happen when I’m eighty?”

A flash of humor crosses his face. “Baby, when you’re eighty, I’ll be sixty-nine.”

My mouth forms an O. “Very good year. Do you think we’ll still be having sex?”

He laughs as he lays me on the bed. I stare as he begins to stroke himself attentively. I will never grow tired of watching him. “Will you still be able to get on your knees?”

Jesus, I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe I’d better start practicing more agile positions for giving puff chores. I stare at the diamond glittering on my finger.

“You know, I could always purchase you some blinged-out kneepads to go with that ring.” He smiles as he moves toward the bed, letting his hands glide between my thighs. I spread my legs wide to accommodate his body as he positions himself between them.

“Maybe,” I murmur as my fingertips skim along his length. I watch as his eyes roll back and he groans. “But I could always find alternative ways to lip lock that herculean mass you call your cock.”