Zenith Fulfilled (19 page)

He was the worst man to take out Rebecca Randall. What did he know about dating a single mother? About three kids? About a marriage that was ten years old? What did he know about taking responsibility for a family? He ran away from all that years ago. He destroyed all those possibilities years ago too. And now, suddenly, there was this wom
an who had all those things, and more. And what was worse, he wanted her on a level that went far beyond friendship, or mutual respect. The only thing he knew for sure was he didn’t lie to Nick: he didn’t intend to take advantage of Rebecca now, or ever.

****

Rebecca woke up, blinded by the pain of her hangover, her pounding head, her nauseous stomach, and her involuntarily shaking body. Opening her eyes in an unfamiliar bedroom, she nearly screamed. Where was she?

The room was an average-sized bedroom
and the furniture was cheap. But it was clean and neat. It was Rob’s room. She realized it when she noticed the watch on the dresser, and the leather coat thrown over the single chair. The closet door was opened and revealed a wardrobe she instantly recognized as that of Rob Williams: t-shirts, jeans, some slacks with other things thrown in there untidily. The doors wouldn’t shut.

There were no family pictures. No snapshots of parents or siblings. There was only one small snapshot of Rob and Spencer, years ago, standing against a building, smiling, their arms around each other. That was all. All that Rob had left. All of his family. Rebecca felt the loneliness and isolation of it, even through her hangover.

She looked down and noticed her outfit was wrinkled and inappropriate in the light of day. She got up, and looked in the bathroom mirror, but cringed. Her skin had gone from her usual white to sickly pale. Her makeup ran and was smudged all over her face. Her hair stuck out oddly and she looked like a night gone terribly wrong. She stripped quickly and jumped into the shower, anxious to get back to her usual self.

Last night was fun. Unlike anything else in her life kind of fun. But now
, reality had returned, and she regretted how sick she felt now. She also regretted the few images she recalled of her behavior, whatever she could remember, and winced when she realized Rob Williams and her brother must have witnessed it all.

She combed her hair off her face, and scrubbed every last bit of old makeup off, until she finally looked like herself again. She had a bag in the van, but for now,
she put her former clothes back on, and borrowed a t-shirt from Rob. It almost fit her perfectly, her boobs filling in where his taller height and broader shoulders would have taken up the slack.

She came down the stairs and found Rob standing on a ladder, hammering up a piece of chair railing. She looked around and realized he’d already done more th
an half the room. The room was also a different color than last she saw it. Rob had a baseball hat on backwards, and a t-shirt and jeans. His arms bulged with muscles as he moved the hammer, and held the wood, his tattoos alive on his skin from his flexing muscles. There was something so male about him. And hot. There was just no denying he looked like a bad-ass, rebellious boy. The thing was: his personality was nothing like that. He spotted her and stopped hammering before he came down the ladder.

“You look a little gray around the gills,” he finally said with his hands on his hips and his elbows out. He studied her with no smiles
before his eyes narrowed in what appeared to be disapproval. Was he mad at how she acted at the club last night?

“Yes,” she said awkwardly, not sure what to say or do.

“There’s coffee.” He nodded towards the kitchen and she decided to take him up on it, after receiving the distinct feeling she wasn’t too welcome here this morning. Then she glanced up and stopped dead; it was almost two o’clock in the afternoon!

“I slept the day away.”

“Yep,” he said, already back up on the ladder, only this time with the tape measure in one hand. Okay, seems like he wasn’t talking to her.

“When did you paint the room?”

“Last weekend.”

“Oh. The chair rail looks amazing.”

He paused and finally glanced at her and shrugged. “Never dreamed I’d turn out to be the one who works on the house in my spare time. I used to trash this place like it was a garbage pit, and now I tend to it like it’s my child. Turns out I’m pretty handy with tools. I had no idea until about three years ago, when I got hired on as laborer at a job site.”

She drank some coffee,
and waited to see how her stomach would take it. He went back to work and ignored her again. She watched for a while. “Rob?”

“What?”

“Are you mad at me? Is there something I should apologize for from last night?”

He
stopped moving and stared harder at his ceiling. “No. Nothing. You should probably get home, though. Aren’t your kids due back or something?”

Kids. Motherhood. Responsibilities. Life again. Everything she should want. Nothing to do with Rob. Or crazy nights out with single men who were as hot as Rob. Of course, she should get back.
She should have wanted to get back.

“They won’t be home until late this evening. What is it? What’s wrong?”

He sighed and lowered his arms towards the top of the ladder. “Look, we dodged a bullet last night. Nothing happened with us; let’s keep it like that. Let’s just do your book and be done with things.”

Do your book and be done with things? Dodged a bullet? Oh God, was she that bad of a date?

“Done with what things? Was I so awful last night?”

“No.”

“I had fun last night. Didn’t you? At all?”

“I had fun. It’s just—
”

“It’s just what?”

“We have nothing in common.”

“We knew that all along. Still, I like being with you. Suddenly, you don’t like me?”

He wouldn’t look at her. “I like you just fine.”

“Then what is this? Suddenly, you can’t even look at me? It’s because of Nick, isn’t it? I saw him talking to you; what did he say?”

“Nothing any other brother wouldn’t have said. He is your brother, Rebecca, and it can’t be easy seeing you with me.”

“Suddenly, now you understand and forgive my brother?”

“No. I just see why it would bother him so much.”

“Is it Joelle? Last night with her?”

“No. It’s not Joelle. Hasn’t been Joelle for years.”

“Then what, Rob? Why can’t you suddenly even look at me?”

His lips pressed together. He swore and tossed his hammer down into his toolbox. “It’s because you’re married. You have three kids. You don’t know about the kind of life I live, or about nights out like I’ve spent my entire life. It’s because your brother is Nick Lassiter. It’s because we have nothing remotely right about us.”

“But there still is something between us. No matter how much we both try to reason it away. And now you’re denying that?”

He was quiet until he finally sighed. “I’m not denying it. Just saying it’s stupid and pointless.”

“I am not stupid and pointless. I’ve been accused of that a few too many times in my life.”

He shook his head. “Not you. Us. Together. It’s me, trying to imagine being with you.”

He threw his
leg down and stepped on the ground. Then walked towards the counter, took out his pack of cigarettes and pulled one out. She’d never seen him smoke in the house, but she was sure he didn’t usually because the house never smelled like it.

Rebecca watched him. “I was wrong to make you go out like that, wasn’t I? Here I am writing a book about your sobriety and I make you come out and watch all of us get drunk. I can’t believe how stupid that was.”

He lit the cigarette, and blew smoke in and out as he shook his head. “I’ve been to a hundred parties since I got sober. That means nothing to me.”

“What then?” she asked, stepping closer to him, despite how desperately he seemed to want to keep her away with the invisible wall he was trying to erect.

He finally looked into her eyes and seemed to almost stare her down. What was going on here? “It’s that I sleep with someone else. And I have no intention of stopping. I come and go as I please. Two in the morning, if I feel like it. I smoke. I still get new tattoos. About the only thing I don’t do anymore is drink. I don’t get up early with little girls and help them get off to school. I never even finished school. I don’t know the first thing about family responsibility. I know about doing what I want, when I want to. Last night, for you, was my world. It isn’t yours though, and you know it. You can’t survive me. We live over an hour apart, not exactly too convenient. You live in the middle of nowhere, not like I can stop in when I feel like a quick lay. Because that’s what I want, Rebecca. That’s what I do. Nothing more. Nothing that would be acceptable to someone like you. And really, it shouldn’t be acceptable to you anyway. So, tell me, what is the point of pursuing anything with us?”

He breathed in more smoke,
and exhaled it all out while he stared at her coldly, the pretense of gently letting her leave now gone.

A
ripple of apprehension passed through her. Was he right? What was the point? What was the bottom line?

“If that was so, if you cared so little, why didn’t you screw me against my front door? I asked you to. I would have deserved it. Why wouldn’t you take advantage of what I offered if you really didn’t see something here? Why didn’t you sleep with me last night?”

He shook his head. “I don’t need to take advantage of some poor, drunken woman for a fuck.”

She bristled.
Poor, drunken woman?
That finally hit home, and she knew what he was getting at. Still, it didn’t add up for her. Not after all the looks he gave her, and the way he was with her kids, and the way he drove around her min-van. “Why haven’t you deposited Nick’s check?”

Startled, he glanced up. “What?”

“Why haven’t you taken the cash from my brother?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Been busy. Haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Who doesn’t get around to dealing with five thousand dollars? You know what I think? This is more than just business to you. And you don’t want my brother’s money coming between us.”

“Your brother’s money is not between us. Maybe it’s your husband.”

“Doug?” she said breathing out. “I owe you an explanation, don’t I? I make you tell me everything you hate about your life and I won’t tell you mine, will I?”

“I only tell you because you pay me. We don’t have a relationship where you owe me anything. No one does, just as I owe no one anything. That’s the way I like it.”

He avoided looking at her again and walked to the sink and threw his cigarette butt in it. Something, again, she was sure he didn’t usually do. She came up next to him and caressed his hand that gripped the edge of the sink. He jerked at her touch and looked down at her. Weariness settled over his face. She didn’t know why she was pressing for more, or doing that. Perhaps, she felt attracted to Rob far more than she was to anyone else in years, even when she was with Doug.

He suddenly grabbed her other hand on the counter, and turned towards her, “When you regret this, just don’t blame me.” 

Rob leaned down, fitting his mouth over hers, his lips moving with languid ease, and a passion he still claimed he didn’t feel. His hands came up to her face, where he cupped her cheeks and lifted her chin up; and when his mouth came over her lips, it nearly took her breath away. His hands slid back, through her hair, and down to her shoulders. She could feel him pressing his fingers into her collarbone and his mouth over hers with wet, hot delight. Again, she could taste the nicotine on his breath as she felt the straining of his back muscles through the t-shirt he wore beneath her hands. She nearly melted into him. This time, she was almost prepared for him, judging by the speed of her own response, but still, it came as a shock to her system.

He suddenly stopped and lifted his head, looking down into her eyes before turning, and taking her hand as he pulled her along with him. There was nothing kind or gentle about it. He nearly stomped down the hall
and up the stairs to his room, where he simply pushed her inside and shut the door behind them.

“When
was the last time you did this?” he asked, staring at her in the dim illumination of his room.

“The nice PTA man and I tried, but it didn’t go down so well.”

“So… you’re looking for not-so-nice and goes-down-well.”

Before she could correct the rudeness of his tone, he came over to her and started kissing her again. His hands grabbed her t-shirt and lifted it up over her head and her hair, before dropping it to the floor. His fingers found the clasp of her bra, which he unhooked and slid off her. The haste and ease with which he was undressing her made her wonder what exactly she was doing with him. She didn’t know the first thing about sex that was not-so-nice and goes-down-well.

He peeled his own t-shirt off and tossed it. She saw his wiry build, the bulging muscles in his biceps, and the tattoos, which stopped with his arms. There were none on his chest, just a smattering of hair, toned pecs, and a taut stomach. Then he had her in his arms, and onto the bed where he lay down and covered her with his heat-radiant body. She felt the smooth skin of his back and the way his muscles rippled and bunched as he moved over her. His mouth was on hers, with his tongue lodged deeply inside. She shivered from the sudden sensations that replaced her former doubts. She forgot she wasn’t young and perfect anymore, after having three babies, and she had the stretch marks to prove it. Her stomach, once flat and toned, wasn’t anymore. She couldn’t lose the last few pounds after having Karlee, no matter how much she tried. But it didn’t matter so much before; Doug didn’t look too hard at her and never seemed to notice the few extra pounds.

But Rob? How could she know what he’d notice? His mouth left hers
and descended onto her neck. His tongue was soft and wet on her skin as he kissed her. It made her insides all hot and sweaty. Then his mouth came to a breast and she closed her eyes. She felt his lips sliding alongside her boob before his breath approached her nipple that hardened and puckered, almost painfully, in anticipation. When his mouth finally reached it, all wet and slick and warm, she nearly screamed out in ecstasy. His tongue teased her, licking back and forth over the hard, pebble-like surface. Her hands came off the mattress and went into his hair. She clasped the thick, black strands between her restless fingers.

He lo
oked up and she felt his eyes like little pinpricks on her skin. She opened hers. What was that look on his face? That intensity? She pulled him closer, and sat up until her lips found his; this time, kissing him. Her hands held onto his chest and she got down onto her knees. She let her breasts slide against the hard flatness of his warm, silky chest. Holding his face between her hands, she kissed his lips, softly, calmly, and more gently. Her tongue tasted his lower lip, timidly, not nearly as sure as his. She licked his mouth and tenderly ran her tongue into his as his lips moved over hers. His hands came to her breasts, caressing, rubbing, and pushing them with his thumbs. She moved her arms around his neck and held onto him with a new kind of trust she couldn’t explain in words. She knew she trusted him and in ways she was just beginning to see. She also knew she cared a lot about him, and in ways she couldn’t comprehend yet. 

Rob’s arms were so
strong, sure, and confident in contrast to her skinny, muscle-free, girl arms. She traced the contour of his cheekbones under her fingertips as his hands moved from her breasts, over her stomach, and down to the waist of her pants. He paused there and kissed her some more. Then his hands slid into her pants, down over her butt, his skin touching her skin as he pressed her tightly against him. She could feel him growing harder through the clothes, and the pressure of his hands almost made the clothes not an issue. Her body burst into a spontaneous reaction. A hot, wetness bubbled inside her, and her mouth opened wider under his. His hands came back to her waistband, and he pushed her pants down, along with her underwear. They dropped to her knees, where they stopped and he didn’t bother to take them all the way off. His hands came back up her legs, nestling between her thighs. Then his mouth latched onto her other nipple while his fingers entered her. She held onto his head, pressing him against her. It was so good and she was so hot, she already felt an orgasm building inside her. It began to rise from somewhere deep that became inflamed and swollen by his sensuous touch.

She unsnapped
his jeans, but could hardly get her fingers to cooperate. She was shaking with excited nerves, passion, and undeniable arousal. She could feel him getting hotter and harder against her knuckles. When she pressed her body into his, she heard him draw a breath against her before his body jolted to life.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he mumbled as his mouth came off her,
and back to her lips. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be as much into her as she was into him. The shock of that surprised her. So did his language. No one ever said that to her before. She wasn’t entirely sure he was aware he even spoke to her, let alone what he said.

Then again, she never was intimate with someone like him before, so shocking was probably an understatement. She couldn’t imagine the sexual adventures Rob had probably experienced in his life.

“Rob?”

“What?” He barely replied against her skin.

“Do you have condoms?”

“’Course,” he said
and finally stopped, opening his eyes to look at her. The way he said it, left her feeling stupid;
duh,
of course, he had condoms. Didn’t all single people who dated nowadays? She didn’t know. Because she never dated. He leaned away from her, long enough for her to feel the cool air over her chest. And notice what she looked like just then. He was rummaging in his nightstand. Of course, they were kept in his nightstand. What was she, an idiot?

“Damn it,” he muttered
, apparently unable to find them as readily as he wanted. He finally had to totally scoot his body away from her and actually look inside the drawer. Eventually, he found a box that was open with the condoms spilling out of it, probably half in the drawer.
Open
. The damn box was open. How many times had he already used the box?

She kicked off the rest of her clothing after realizing how stupid she must’ve looked with her clothes still half on. She leaned over to take her socks off
, but her hands shook uncontrollably. Who could look sexy with socks on?

He stood by the side of the bed and she felt his gaze over her.

“What was it?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, looking up at him. He stood with his hands on his hips, shirtless, and the top of his jeans undone, but otherwise, fully intact.

“What made you get so skittish? Was it what I said?”

“No, of course not. Everything is fine,” she said, looking away. How did one reply to,
God, you’re so fucking wet
?

“Fine? Or does that mean you
’re suddenly not ready to do this?”

She didn’t look up. “Seems suddenly, it might be the second option.”

He was quiet, so she didn’t look up to see his reaction. Then she felt the bed shift as he said, “You don’t like dirty talk.”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve never had anyone say it to me.”

“You know that wasn’t really dirty.” What was he implying now? That it could get a lot more graphic if she wanted that? Is that what he usually did? Dirty pillow talk? Pornographic suggestions? Kinky quirks? She looked up and began rethinking the entire event that she so insisted upon and pushed to happen. She was staring at the box of half empty condoms and he looked at it too. Okay, no. It was the
open
box of condoms.

His eyes gleamed, but softened.
“Rebecca, I’m not a saint. I sleep with women. But not like you’re thinking now.”

“I know all your friends.”

“My friend, as in singular, and whom you so sneer at, is a woman I’ve been seeing for over a year. And only her.”

“So you’re cheating on her?”

She felt the bed move and his head shake. “No, it’s not like that either. It’s like, we’re really good friends, and we sleep together sometimes. We don’t date. We’re not in love. We just help each other get through sometimes.”

“Get through what?”

“Life, I guess. Loneliness. What you’re going through now. Human intimacy that’s not faceless. Sobriety.”

“Is she an alcoholic too?”

“Yeah, that’s how we first hooked up.”

She finally glanced his way and saw he was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

“You know how I always accuse you of being such a mother figure and saying we have nothing in common?”

“Of course, I know how you think of me.”

“Well… the thing is, just now, you weren’t. It came as quite a surprise to me.”

She frowned
while considering what he meant. She surprised him? Intrigued, she finally moved closer. “In what way?”

“In the way that involves the words I said to you. Do you want me to apologize?”

“No. No, they just took me off guard.”

“Or perhaps, they jolted you right out of your arousal, more like?”

“Okay, maybe that. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever been with.”

“You are.”

She almost asked, who? Joelle? But she couldn’t stand the comparison, and he must have read her face.

“I don’t mean Joelle. I me
ant, contrary to what you think of me, I don’t sleep with just anyone. I’ve never had one-night-stands. Or used the groupies that hung out with us. That was Spencer. I was always much more selective, and careful. I never liked women who slept around. I was with Joelle for five years, and only had a few girlfriends before her. Now I have a few, I guess you’d call them, ‘friends’ since she left.”

“And now me?”

“It was looking that way.”

“It is that way,” she said, with a false bravado that she barely felt.

“Rebecca, go home.”

She stared up at him and tried to swallow the lump of nerves lodged in her throat.
“I don’t want to.”

His gaze settled on her, and made her weigh the options. She could look away and chicken out; or she could go through with it, like she fantasized about, and planned on, so she didn’t look away. But how then, should she close the gap now between them, which made her even more uncomfortable than before they started?

He leaned forward, taking her hand in his, and pulling her towards him, all the while, not taking his eyes off hers. He was letting her know with his body language that there was no chickening out this time. No more chances to allow her feelings to overwhelm or betray her. He nearly lifted her off the bed and settled her back on top of him, astride his lap. She shivered at the feel of his hands on her bare back, and his eyes on her front. The sensation of his bare arm muscles, embracing her. There was something both sensual and tender in the movement of his hands. She was beginning to think she wasn’t alone in experiencing more from this than just sex. His lips lowered onto hers again, and she was pretty sure that was about all it took for him to turn her on like a faucet.

He kissed her, moving her body over his, and his hands over her body in magical ways that soon had her moaning and forgetting everything else, but where he touched her next. By the time he finally slid on the condom, she was writhing with her legs open, and nearly screaming for relief from the titillating waves of longing inside her. He came into her as she lay on her back, and he supported himself while he hovered over her. Driving into
her hard and slow, then hot and hurried, the thrilling feelings began their crescendo, and the crest of sexual release that she never experienced before seemed to nearly rip right through her.

When they finished, he pushed a pillow under his head, and covered them with a messed up sheet. She lay still beside him, and unable to move for the bliss and pleasure now flowing through her body. The sheer joy of it kept her from moving. A kind of tingling remained when the pleasurable climax eventually faded. He shifted and brought her body closer to his. She snuggled into his warmth, missing the closeness and comfort of a man for years now. She wanted to soak it up, and expel the loneliness that seemed to permeate every cell of her body. She must have dozed off because when she opened her eyes, the sunlight was slanting in the bedroom at a different angle. An evening angle.