What The Heart Finds (22 page)

And the night before,
well, the night before had been unexpected. Amazing, she admitted,
feeling her skin heat at the memory. There was no other word to
describe how good that sex was. And it wasn't even just the sex. It
was the intensity. The connection. The overwhelming intimacy.

She had begged for it,
she recalled, covering her face and making a strange squealing sound.
She had actually begged a guy to fuck her. But, if there was one man
a woman should beg to sleep with her, it's Eric O'reilly. Because he
really, really knew what he was doing, she thought, feeling herself
get turned on at the memory.

He was dominant, but
gentle. Demanding, but giving. It was the most intoxicating
combination she had ever experienced. She started to wonder how many
women it had taken for him to learn what he knew, and quickly pushed
the thought away. It wasn't like she was some lily white flower
before. And, she had to face it, if it wasn't for all those other
women... she probably wouldn't have had such an amazing night.

It was probably the first
time she had had a first time with someone that hadn't been awkward,
full of fumbling with each others clothes, cautious screwing because
they didn't know each others rhythms.

Eric had just... known
hers.

Lena stretched, wincing a
bit at the soreness between her thighs. It had been so long. She
smiled, a part of her enjoying the intimate discomfort. She kicked
off the blankets, laying there naked for a moment.

She felt different.
Relaxed, she realized with a snort. She was actually relaxed. She
couldn't count all the times she had heard someone say that she
needed to get laid. Even when she was seeing someone and having
somewhat regular sex. Maybe it was more accurate to say she needed to
just... get completely lost in hers and someone elses body. Which was
not how she had experienced sex in the past.

Lena got out of bed naked
and went to the door, peeking out into the hall for any sign of life
before quickly running toward the bathroom and shutting herself in.
She turned the shower water on hot, hoping to ease a bit of the ache
in her thigh muscles. She washed her hair, humming some silly song
that always got stuck in her head when she was showering.

“Really? That's
your shower song?” Eric asked, pulling the shower curtain
aside.

Lena screeched, slamming
back against the shower wall. Her hand when to her heart, slightly
bending forward, trying to take a normal breath.

“Jesus, Eric,”
she said, looking up at him. “you could have knocked. I didn't
know you were still here.”

A slow, lazy smile spread
across his face as his hands slipped lower and pushed his pants off
of his waist. Lena's eyes moved downward, seeing his cock already
hard and straining for her.

“Don't get any
ideas,” Eric said, his voice teasing as he stepped into the
shower, pulling the curtain closed. “I'm here to shower,”
he said, smiling wickedly. “not for your pleasure.”

Lena's mouth fell open,
squinting her eyes and pushing him out from under the water. “I
was here first,” she declared, reaching for the body wash.

Eric grabbed it out of
her hand, chuckling. “Yeah, but this is mine,” he said,
opening the cap and squeezing it into his hands. He watched her as he
lathered it up in his hands, then reached out and started scrubbing
it into her hair.

“What are you
doing?” Lena asked, eyeing him suspiciously as his fingers
massaged her scalp.

“I'm washing your
hair,” he said. “Rinse,” he said, pulling his hands
away, covered in suds.

She leaned her head up
into the water, looking at the ceiling, not entirely sure what was
going on. She scrubbed at her hair until the soap was gone then
looked at him, expectantly.

He motioned for her to
turn around. “Good girl,” he murmured when she did. He
moved up behind her, his cock pushing against her ass as his hands
went around her, gently stroking his soapy hands over her breasts.

Lena sighed, laying her
head against his shoulder. Where did he learn all of this stuff? She
closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as his hands moved across her
belly. “You are very... unexpected,” she said, turning
her face into his neck, kissing his warm wet skin.

“And you are
very...” he said. “delicious,” he said, turning his
head and biting her nose. Lena half-shrieked, half-laughed, swatting
at his hips. “See? Yummy,” he said, his tone light. “I
could eat you all day,” his tone again light, playful. Until
his hand slipped lower, toying with her clit. “right here,”
he said, his voice deeper, edgy.

“I would be...
open,” she said, her own tone enticing. “to that idea.”

“Mmm,” he
groaned, his finger slipping lower and pushing inside her. Lena's arm
flew out, grabbing at the wall to hold herself upward. “Already
so wet for me, huh baby?”

“Mmhmm,” she
murmured. She would tell him anything if he just kept doing what he
was doing.

“Good,” he
said, pulling his finger out of her and stepping away. He looked at
her for a second, taking in her outraged expression with a smile. He
grabbed the shower curtain, pushing it open and half stepping out of
the tub. “Now touch yourself.”

Lena's eyes went wide, a
growing feeling of dread, of embarrassment spreading through her
core. She wasn't going to do that. She couldn't do that. Not in front
of him. Hell, she hardly did it much when she was alone. And even
then she wasn't even looking at herself. And he was just going to
be... staring at her.

“Stop thinking,”
he said, his voice patient, understanding. “Slide your hand
over your thigh and touch yourself.” He watched as she
tentatively followed his instructions, keeping her eyes downcast. She
leaned back against the shower wall, taking a deep breath. Her
fingers worked against her clit slowly, applying pressure. “Good
girl,” he said, stepping fully out of the tub. Her eyes were
closed, her lips parted, sinking into her own enjoyment. “Now
don't stop,” he said, walking out of the bathroom and into the
bedroom.

Lena's eyes shot open
when she heard his footsteps in the hall, slapping wet against the
floor. She smiled to herself. Only a man would walk dripping wet
through the house. She heard his steps coming back and moved her
fingers against herself again.

He stood there watching
her for a second, his own hand going to his cock and stroking. His
other hand came up, ripping a condom wrapper and slipping it on.
Lena's hand fell away from herself, waiting. “I didn't say to
stop,” he said,smiling crookedly at her.

“Shut up and get in
here,” she said, reaching out and grabbing his arm, pulling him
into the tub.

“Yes ma'am,”
he said, reaching for the back of her neck and pulling her lips to
his. One of his hands went under her thigh, pulling it upward and
guiding it around his hips. As soon as her hands went around his back
to steady herself, he reached between them, stroking her clit and
pushing his cock deep inside her.

“Fuck,” Lena
cried out, slamming her head back against the shower wall, her
fingernails digging into his back muscles. Her hips pushed against
his, frantic, inviting.

“Nope,” he
said, pulling his head back and looking at her. “this time I'm
gonna take my time,” he said, pulling his cock out slowly, then
thrusting back in even slower.

Lena balled up her fists,
taking deep breaths to calm her need. She buried her face in his
neck, closing her eyes, concentrating on his body in hers. His
painfully slow pace making her hyper aware of his rigid thickness
stretching her impossibly full.

“Oh,” she
gasped, tensing for the orgasm that had been building up, slow and
powerful. Her entire body went tense, her breath hitching and
catching in her chest as her orgasm washed over her slowly at first,
halting at the peak and slamming over, making her core spasm over and
over, squeezing his cock as he continued his leisurely thrusting.
“Eric,” she gasped, finally able to breathe again.

His fist slammed into the
shower wall, a groaned escaping his lips, raw and animistic as he
came, thrusting into her until he was spent.

Lena took deep breaths,
feeling the tears well up in her eyes and trying to blink them away.
She had never felt so emotional after sex. So overwrought and
consumed. So completely satisfied. They slipped past her lashes,
running down her face.

Eric pulled slightly back
to kiss her when he saw she was crying. Silent and sorrow-less. He
smiled slightly, his hands going to the sides of her face, his thumbs
brushing the tears off her cheeks.

“What do you say we
go to the bookstore and get some coffee?” he asked, leaning
down and kissing her softly.

Out? In the town? Lena
started shaking her head, her heart beating wildly in her chest. But,
it somehow did not escape her notice that he had used the word “we”.

“I... filled Liam
in,” he held up his hand as her mouth opened to scold him. “not
the whole story. But he knows you weren't trying to steal peoples'
identities. And he wanted to thank you for the cookies.”

“Eric,” Lena
said, pulling away from him and reaching for her towel. “I...
cant. It's too embarrassing.”

Eric watched her stepping
out of the tub, wrapping herself in the towel. Retreating. Running
away. “Lena,” he said, trying to touch her arm, but she
pulled away. “fuck them. Okay? If they aren't willing to hear
your side of the story... fuck them. Go slip into one of your rich
bitch outfits,” he said, winking. “and let's go get
coffee. If anyone has anything to say, I'll deal with them.”

Lena turned and walked
down to the bedroom, seeing the puddles Eric had left from before.
She grabbed for the pile of clothes on the bedside table, looking at
them as if the were armor. Something of her usual coolness to protect
her from all the stares. She slipped into the gray slacks and a white
silk tank top. She carefully pulled her hair into a bun and put on
high gray heels. They wanted Lena the stuck up bitch from the city,
they were going to get her.

Eric walked into the room
as she was slipping pearl stud earrings on, a towel slung low on his
hips. He looked over at her for a second before walking to the closet
and pulling out jeans and a dark gray t-shirt. “That-a girl,”
he said, dropping his towel shamelessly and dressing. He reached down
and tied his shoes on quickly, standing up and holding a hand out
toward her. “Ready?”

“Nope,” she
said, taking his hand. “but let's go.”

Lena grabbed her phone
and wallet off of the counter and followed him out. Her phone was
blinking, some sort of notification that she needed to check as soon
as she got to the bookstore.

It wasn't long before the
stares started. They crossed the street and passed a few middle-aged
women who fell silent as they passed, only to resume a hushed
conversation as soon as they walked by. As they passed the market,
Hank was in the window setting up a display. He looked at her for a
second then at Eric, hanging his head like he was ashamed of
something.

She looked up at Eric,
her chest feeling tight.

“Just a couple more
stores,” he said, squeezing her hand.

Across the street, Emily
was walking from the inn. She stopped suddenly, looking at Lena like
she was surprised to see her still in town. Then at Eric with a
furrowed brow. Like she was trying to figure out what she was
missing, what was going on that she didn't know about. But then Eric
was pulling open the bookstore, and ushered her in.

As soon as they were
inside, she reached for her phone, opening her email to find one from
Elliott. Her stomach tensed. The last time she had messaged him she
told him she wasn't on her way back. Then, she thought, there had
been silence. But apparently she had gotten a email back the next
morning.

Where are you? Are you
okay?

Lena
looked down at her phone, reading over the line a few times. That
didn't sound like Elliott at all. She had once broken a mug,
shattering in her hand and cutting into her palm and he had looked at
her with a raised brow and then told her to go get it taken care of.
No “are you okays”. No “feel betters”. Just
practical solutions. That was Elliott Michaels.

She
shoved the phone back in her pocket as Eric dragged her back toward
the cafe.

“What
are you thinking bringing a criminal into my store?” Liam
asked, his voice so serious that Lena took a step backward until he
smiled, a strange, sarcastic tilt to his lips.

“Jerk,”
she said, shaking her head.

Liam
held his hands up, palms out. “Thanks for the cookies,”
he said, gesturing toward the dessert case where half of the plate
was already missing. “they're a huge hit so long as no one
knows who made them.”

“Liam,”
Eric said, his voice firm.

Liam
rubbed the back of his neck, hanging his head. “Sorry,”
he said, moving behind the counter to grab them coffee. “I
actually had one of the founding wives,” he said as if she
would know who they were. Small town forgetfulness that not everyone
knew everyone else. “ask who made them so she could get some
for the next woman's club meeting.”