Authors: Erin McCarthy
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #New Adult, #Contemporary, #General
“I just wanted to see your face for a second,” he said, voice hoarse. “I just wanted to see that this is real.” Then he released his grip on my hair.
I went back to sucking him, experimenting to find what pace he liked most, exploring with my fingers, cupping his balls. It was intimate and exciting and I enjoyed the sounds he was making. He was quiet, controlled, but he gave up moans that showed I had breached his barriers.
When he pulled back unexpectedly, I glanced up, wiping at my damp lips, hauling in air into my lungs. But before I could speak, he had me on my back, his palm gripping my thigh hard as he spread my legs. I swiped my hair out of my face as he ditched his underwear and pulled a condom out of the pocket of his discarded jeans. He’d brought condoms. He’d been optimistic it seemed. I was glad he had though because I wasn’t prepared in any way.
When he was in place between my thighs, he settled my hip against him, my leg resting on the back of his. He paused, leaning to kiss me softly. “You drive me crazy.”
I could feel him throbbing against me and I wanted to squirm but I swallowed hard and waited, staring up at him, wanting the moment to last forever. “I think it’s mutual.”
He gave me a small smile. “What should we do about it?”
“I think you know exactly what to do.”
The naughty smile widened. “I do.”
Those particular words struck a chord and I was about to comment when Heath pushed inside me, filling me, his bare skin brushing against mine in various spots on my body. I forgot whatever I had been about to say and gave an involuntary cry in ecstasy. Whatever I had remembered about our one and only time on the grass couldn’t compare to what it felt like to have him over me, in me, pushing not with the manic urgency of being young and afraid of being caught, but with the strong confident strokes of a man.
He wore his dog tags, and they bounced against my chin, cold and noisy.
“Sorry,” he muttered,” reaching up to throw them around to his back.
But I caught them first and held them in my fist, holding him to me, wanting no break in rhythm, no break between us. I wanted to be tied together like the links of the metal chain, forever, permanent, endless. Around and around, Heath and I, him to me and me to him and back again, thoughts, love, hearts.
At that moment I didn’t know where he started and I ended.
I only knew that I had never known a greater pleasure, or experienced anything more emotionally and physically intense than when I scraped my nails across his back and came with his name spilling off my lips.
“Cat,” he breathed, eyes dark, brow furrowed. “I…”
But he didn’t finish his sentence. Maybe no words were needed. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip.
Then he closed his eyes and soundlessly exploded inside me as I held onto him as tightly as I possibly could, wanting to keep him there forever.
I lazily lay across his chest, unable to resist giving his shoulder a soft kiss now and then. Heath was holding me close to him, his breathing finally even again. He’d disposed of the condom, and pulled the sheet up over us to our waists.
“What does this mean?” I asked, tracing the letters across his abdomen.
“It means ‘you made me who I am.’ Or close to it. It’s Latin.”
I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but I felt a shiver of pleasure at his words. “And what does that mean to you?”
He stroked my bare butt, which I was acutely aware of. “You know what it means. It means you.”
“I like.” I wiggled closer to him, enjoying the sensation of skin on skin. Enjoying the easy contentment I felt with him. “That was possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said, feeling sassy, enjoying the ability to be fully naked with him.
“What, my tattoo?”
“I actually meant the sex.”
He laughed. “Dirty girl.”
“You make me feel dirty in a very good way.” I let my fingers drift down over his hip as I half sat up and looked down at him, smiling. Grinning, probably. I couldn’t stop it. I was feeling very, very satisfied.
Heath played the ends of my hair. “You look beautiful, wild and free. Just the way I remember you.”
“I feel wild and free.”
“Who ended things, you or Ethan?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard. I didn’t want to talk about Ethan when we were naked, bodies still warm from sex. “Why does it matter?”
“Because if Ethan broke up with you, then I’m your consolation prize. Not your first choice.”
That was the dumbest thing I’d ever heard. “You were my first choice because I met you first and I never wanted us to end.”
He didn’t look convinced. “You still haven’t answered my question. And by not answering it, I think you did just answer it.”
So he was going to be stubborn. I had no reason not to be honest. “Ethan broke up with me.”
Heath shook his head. “Fucking idiot. How could he break up with you? Is he too stupid to know what he had? God, the thought of his smooth, white hands touching you makes me sick.”
There was more venom in his voice than I expected to hear. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known about Ethan for weeks. I didn’t want him to feel jealousy, not now. “Heath…”
“I want to put my hands on his neck and choke the life out of him.”
I stared down at him. “You don’t mean that.”
“No, I actually do.” He gave me a tight, closed smile. “And I would enjoy it.”
Goosebumps rose on my bare skin. “Why are you so angry? You’re freaking me out.”
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Are you afraid of me, Cat? You said you’d never be afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you. But I don’t like hearing you talk like that. You don’t have any reason to want to hurt Ethan.”
“Yes, I do. How many times has he touched you? How many times did he make you laugh? Did you say you loved him?” His eyes were glassy, his hand shaking. “And you were going to cut me out of your life because he asked you to.”
His words made me uneasy. “You can’t tell me that you haven’t had sex with anyone in the last four years because I won’t believe you.”
He didn’t answer, his lips pursed.
“That’s what I thought. We can’t erase the past. It is what it is. But you can’t punish me for trying to move on. I’d like to point out for the seven hundredth time I had no clue where you were.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to punish you, I’m really not. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t want to ram my fist into his perfect pretty face.”
“Your face is prettier and perfecter.” No one would ever describe Heath that way. He was too rugged, too brooding.
He knew it because he rolled his eyes.
But I kissed him softly before he could protest. “Now will you please stop talking about Ethan? It’s a buzz kill.”
“Are you drunk?” His words were a little pouty still, but he was clearly making an effort to move on. He ran some strands of my hair over his mouth.
“Yes. On sex and love.”
He rewarded me with a smile. “Then I promise to never mention his name ever again. Because if you’re drunk on sex and love, then I’m fucking wasted.”
Chapter Fourteen
I woke up cold and alone. I wasn’t sure what woke me, but the only light in the room was moonlight, and when I turned, reaching for Heath, I saw he wasn’t there. My twin bed was empty, the cover pulled back where he had climbed out. I sat up straight, looking around, listening to the dark house for any sound of him moving around, going to the bathroom.
Everything was silent.
I knew he couldn’t leave the island without a boat, and not at two in the morning or whatever time it was, but I still felt a blind panic that he was gone. That he’d left me. Again.
Pushing the covers back, I pulled on a pair of yoga pants from my overnight bag and the socks I’d discarded by the bed. I was already up and walking as I put on my sweatshirt, determined to find Heath, my heart racing from both jerking out of sleep and from irrational fear. He wasn’t in the bathroom. I looked in the other bedrooms, including the one he had shared with Brian. If he was sleeping in there, I wasn’t going to lie, I would be hurt. But I did only have a twin bed, so maybe he just really wanted a decent night’s sleep.
But he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room either.
Tripping over the edge of the worn run in the living room, I swore when I stubbed my toe. “Fuck.” I turned the lamp on, narrowing my eyes as the bulb forced my pupils to dilate rapidly. The living room was full of stuff and I could kill myself trying to cross it in the dark.
The front door squeaked open and I jumped at the sudden movement. “Heath?”
His head appeared in the doorway, down low. It was clear he was sitting on the front step. “Hey.” He looked surprised. “What are you doing up? You okay?”
I shook my head, throat suddenly tight. “I woke up and I thought you were gone. I thought you left me.”
His jaw dropped. “Oh, baby, of course not. Jesus. Come here.” He shoved the door open even further and held his hand out to me.
I trudged across the living room, close to tears, feeling stupid and vulnerable and needy. Wiping at my eyes, I sat down in the doorway, leaning on the frame, my knees brushing his arm.
“Why are you way over there? Come here.” He gave me a smile. “Let me hold you.”
“If you wanted to hold me you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.” It was a truly bratty thing to say, but I felt terrified. I wasn’t sure I could survive if he just strolled out of my life again. Post-sex abandonment, part two.
Heath just stared at me for a second. He was resting his forearms on his knees. “I have insomnia. I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“Why do you have insomnia?” Was he worried about something? That’s the only reason I ever had trouble sleeping. Was he worried about me? Us? Ethan?
“I don’t know. I’ve always had trouble sleeping and being in the service made it worse. We’d go days with very little sleep, then I’d pass out for twelve hours. And sometimes, when I have a lot on my mind, I can’t turn the thoughts off.”
“Is there a lot on your mind?” I patted my still damp eyes with the cuffs of the oversized UMaine sweatshirt I’d put on. My voice sounded sleepy and hoarse.
“Yeah.” He glanced over at me. “See, there’s this girl that I’ve been in love with for a long time and all I ever wanted was to be with her. I was starting to think it wasn’t going to happen but now I think maybe it has, but I’m not really sure what she wants. So I’m plotting ways to kidnap her and keep her here forever.”
Relief made my head sink forward onto my knees. “I started crying because I thought you were gone,” I told him. “I don’t think you need to rope my wrists and duct tape my mouth to keep me with you.”
“Thank God because that sounds exhausting.” He shifted closer to me. “Switch spots with me.”
“What? Why?”
“Sit between my legs and lean against me.”
I wiggled forward, letting him maneuver around behind me. I settled back between his legs, against his chest. I sighed when his arms came around me, enjoying both the warmth and the strength there. “I can hear my dad’s voice,” I murmured. “He’d be bitching at us for having the door open and letting all the heat out.”
Heath gave a short laugh. “Yeah. I can hear that too. Who’s going to pay the heat bill? The heat fairy? I mean, what is the heat fairy?”
“It didn’t exist. That was the point. I wonder who is paying the heat bill, by the way? I can’t believe Brian is.”
“You don’t know?”
“Nope.” I yawned. “Brian owns the house, not me. My father didn’t leave me anything.”
“I thought you both owned it.”
“No. My dad’s will was a few years old, written before I turned eighteen. It gave Brian full ownership of the house. I don’t know why.” It still hurt. “He doesn’t give a shit about this place.” Last week I hadn’t been sure I did either, but being here had opened up a whole box of emotions. I felt both nostalgic and sad. The house was full of memories, yet it was so empty. Just dust, and forgotten and neglected things. Everything cheap, everything dingy.
It didn’t feel like a home, but maybe it could. Though that would never happen as long as Brian was the owner.
“It’s for sale,” I added.
“It is?” He sounded shocked. “I didn’t see a sign in the yard.”
“Me either, but I’m not sure a sign in the yard does much good. According to my dad’s friend Billy, Brian is trying to unload it. Take the cash. But so far, no buyers.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling me tighter against his chest.
I tried to glance back at him but I couldn’t really see his face. “Why?”
“Because this is your home. Your connection to your family. And your brother will piss away the profits from it. I’m sorry, baby, I really am.”
Hearing it said like that… it was the last connection to my family. A family that no longer existed. I looked out into the night, the cold air causing me to sniffle. It was no wonder I had been so attracted to Ethan. He hadn’t just offered himself, he had offered a replacement family. Somewhere to belong.
Now it was just Heath and I, two loners on a lonely island. With no one else.
And that terrified me almost as much as the thought of Heath leaving.
I twisted in his arms and kissed him hard, desperately. Within seconds, we had our tongues entwined and Heath’s hand was under my sweatshirt, cupping my breast. I buried my hands in his hair and poured myself into the kiss, wanting more, wanting all of him. He grabbed my ass and tried to grind me up against him, but the angle was wrong. I scrambled to my knees, still kissing him, and shifted so my legs were on either side of him, and I was sitting on his lap.
He groaned. “God, you feel so good. I wish it wasn’t so fucking cold out here. I’d pull your pants down and let you ride me right here.”
At his words, I was already shoving them down myself, not caring about the cold. “It’s not even November yet. I’ll survive.” I kissed him, nipping at his bottom lips. “Just help me with my one pant leg.”
There was no hesitation on his part. He tore my pants off over my left foot. “You’re not wearing any underwear,” he said, sounding shocked, but very, very pleased by the fact.