Finally (Mature Men, #3) (11 page)

Deciding it was probably time I faced the reality of my situation I left Michael's place and went home.

S
her

While I sat in my living room, thinking of my conversation with Am, my visitor bell chimed. I rose and walked over to the small monitor mounted on the side of the wall. Janine stood in the lobby, looking angry. Oh, hell. I was not in the mood for another showdown that night, but I couldn't very well pretend I wasn't home. Well, I could, but it would only be putting off the inevitable confrontation.

I took a deep breath before pushing the intercom. "Janine—"

"We need to talk, Sher. Right now."

"Come on up," I said and pressed the button to release the lobby door lock. Then I paced the floor until she rang the bell outside my door. After glancing out the peephole to make sure it was her, I opened the door.

"Janine—"

"How could you?" she asked, pushing past me.

Oh hell. Shane had obviously made his lack of interest obvious and she now wanted to blame me. I closed the door and walked past her into the living room.

She followed me. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Sherlyn?"

Her tone suddenly pissed me the hell off. I turned to face her. "About what?"

"About how you stabbed me in the back with Shane Reddorn! He tried to deny it, but that must have been one hell of a dinner you two had last night. When did it end? Sometime this morning?"

"If you're implying that we spent the night together, we didn't!"

"Then why is he interested in you instead of me?"

I'd had a rough day and I just didn't feel like taking anymore shit from anyone. Her implication that no man could possibly prefer me was the end. Don had preferred me to her. As had Darkwater and clearly Shane. "Maybe because I actually have a personality and don't need anyone else to sing my praises to get a date with the man of my choice!"

She recoiled. "Are you implying I have no personality?"

"No, Janine. I'm coming right out and saying it! It's not my fault he prefers me to you. I tried to get him interested in you—"

"When? Between attempts to titillate him yourself? Every damned time he opened his mouth he found a reason to mention you. You might not have slept with him last night, but I'll bet you came pretty damned close! What did you do? Give him a blowjob?"

I sucked in a breath and stared at her. I was angry and afraid. I know I should have admitted the truth, but certain our friendship hung in the balance, I wimped out and shook my head. "I tried to steer him to you—just as I've always done when you asked me to. It's not my fault it didn't work."

She stared at me with an angry look in her eyes until she spotted Don's picture still lying in the twisted frame. "What happened?" she asked in a cool voice.

I shrugged. "Darkwater tossed it against the wall in a fit of...something."

"Oh. I see. So because you can't have him back, you thought it would be a good idea to take Shane from me?"

Her lack of empathy eroded my sympathy for her. "In order for me to have taken him from you, he had to be yours in the first place. He never was!"

"I hope you and he have a good time fucking each other over before moving onto other people! When he's finished screwing over you like Darkwater did, don't expect much sympathy from me!"

I stared at her, in shock. How could she say such hurtful things? "I don't believe you just said that—not after all we've been through together."

"Believe it," she said, turned and slammed out of my apartment.

I sank down onto the sofa and let a flood of tears stream down my cheeks before I got up and went into the kitchen. I sat pushing cold veggies and a piece of fish around on my plate just before ten p m when my visitor bell chimed again.

Oh, hell. What now? I was shocked to see Darkwater in my lobby. "What part of I'm never going to forgive you didn't you understand, Darkwater?" I asked.

"I know saying I'm sorry is inadequate, but—"

"You're damned right it is."

"But what the hell else can I say, Sherlyn?"

"Nothing. That's all I want to hear from you. Nothing."

"Really? Well, that's too damned bad because I have a lot more than that to say to you."

"Doesn't mean I'm going to listen."

"The hell it doesn't. Release the door," he said.

"No."

"Release the door or I'll do it myself."

"What?"

"I haven't changed my lock codes any more than you probably have."

"So?"

"So let me in or I'll let myself in," he said, his hand hovering over the keypad.

I’m not sure why, but it had never occurred to me to change my code after our relationship ended.

"Are you going to let me in or do I need to do it myself? Either way, I'm coming up."

And of course, I'd never bothered to ask him to return the keys to my apartment, just as he hadn't asked for his back. So once he was past the lobby, keeping him in the hallway would be impossible. I could put the chain on the door but the way my luck was going, he'd probably kick the door in.

I could call Michael or Jeffery, but neither would arrive in time to keep him from having his say. Besides, I wasn't so sure Michael wouldn't just urge me to hear him out.

I didn't fear him so I decided to let him have his damned say. Once he had, I'd either get my keys back before he left or I'd change my code and my locks. I released the buzzer and walked into the living room to wait for him.

When he rang the bell outside my door, I ignored him. Several minutes later, I looked up from the sofa as he stalked into the living room.

I don't know what I expected him to say or do, but as usual, he surprised me. He crossed the room with a bag in his hand, knelt in front of me, and took my hands in his. "I'm so sorry, Sherlyn. I had no right to even touch his picture. Throwing it across the room was unforgivable."

"And yet you expect me to forgive you," I said, pulling my hands from his.

"I do. Not because I deserve it, but because I know you have a forgiving heart."

I shook my head. "I've had a long, hard day. Just say what you have to and then please just leave me alone."

He rose and shocked me by reaching for Don's picture that still sat on the coffee table. "If you..."

He picked up the bag and lifted a beautiful ornate gold frame that I recognized as having held the picture of his parents that sat on the end table by his favorite chair in his man cave.

"What are you doing with that?" I asked.

"It was too late to shop for a frame to replace the one I damaged so I thought I'd lend you this one until I could replace it." He carefully slipped Don's slightly bent picture inside the frame and placed it on the table, facing us.

I stared at him. "What did you do with your parents' picture?"

"I put it in an album until I get this one back from you."

He had three different pictures of his parents and one of his father with Am's mother in various rooms in his home. That he had bought the one I knew had contained his parent's wedding picture touched me. "Oh, Thomas, you shouldn't have."

He shrugged. "I knew they'd understand and I hoped this gesture would signify how sorry I am. I really do regret doing that, Sherlyn. If you don't believe anything else I say, please believe that."

"Why did you?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not to me."

He rose and walked over to stare out my living room window. "I'm sorry."

"So you said and I believe you, but that doesn't explain why you felt the need to try to damage the picture of a the only man—"

He swung around to stare at me." If you say the only man who ever loved you again, I'll..."

"You'll what?"

He quickly crossed the room and knelt in front of me again. "If you believe I'm sorry, why do you keep pushing? What do you want? You've known me long enough to know..."

"To know what?"

He took my hands in his and brushed his lips against my fingers. "To know that I have difficulty expressing my feelings."

I leaned back, surprised by the odor of alcohol on his breath. "Have you been drinking?"

He narrowed his gaze. "I'm almost forty-one, Sherlyn. That's old enough to not need permission to drink."

"I know, but I've never smelt alcohol on your breath. I've never even seen you drink."

"I generally don't drink but you've driven me to it." He laughed and rose. "Since the smell of it offends you, I'll take my drunken ass home to sleep it off." He turned and walked out of the room.

Am had once told me that all five of her brothers had solemnly promised their father that they would guard against alcoholism and that most of them, including Darkwater, didn't drink at all. The others only indulged in an occasional celebratory toast.

The thought of him drinking and driving scared me. I jumped up and ran after him. "Thomas! Wait! Please."

He turned with his hand on the doorknob. "Yes?"

"I can't let you drive drunk."

"I'm far from drunk," he said.

I wasn't convinced. "I'd feel better if you stayed."

"And sleep where?" He glanced towards the living room. "I'm too tall to sleep comfortably on your sofa and I've grown too accustomed to comfort to consider sleeping on the floor."

"You can sleep in my bed," I said.

His gaze locked with mine. "And where are you planning to sleep?"

I moistened my lips and lowered my gaze to his mouth. "My bed is big enough for both of us."

He arched a brow.

"Before you get the wrong idea, I'll expect you to keep your briefs on and your hands to yourself."

"You say that as if you think I can't do that," he said in a cool voice.

I wanted sex with him that night. Needless to say, I was counting on his inability to control himself. "Then there shouldn't be any problem," I said and left him at the door. With my heart pounding, I went into my bathroom where I undressed. After hesitating for several moments, I slipped on my favorite cotton nightie that fell just below my knees and had been made for comfort and warmth rather than tempting a lover.

When I emerged from the bathroom, I found Darkwater lying on my bed. Although he wore his boxer briefs, I saw the clear outline of his cock. He was at least semi-erect. My pussy pulsed and my heart pounded. And oh, God, I wanted to feel his big body pinning me to the bed seconds before I felt his cock powering deep inside me.

I crossed the room. After turning off the bedside lamp, I slipped into bed. Lying on my side with my back to him, I waited and prayed he would reached for me.

He didn't and after five minutes or so, I closed my eyes on a stream of silent tears. He must know I wanted him. Hell, I'd admitted earlier in the night that I wanted sex. So why the hell didn't he instigate it? Did he want me to humiliate myself by begging for it? Well, I wasn't going to. I closed my eyes and struggled to fall asleep.

Just as I started to drift off, I felt him shift in the bed. Seconds later, his warm lips brushed my ear and nape. A big hand cupped my breasts.

With a rush of relief and need overwhelming me, I turned onto my back, and eagerly stroked my hand down his abs to his groin. I pushed my hand inside his briefs. Finding him fully erect, I parted my legs.

He slipped between my thighs and pressed his full weight on me.

I felt his cock pressing against my thigh. Oh, lord. Yes. Yes. Even though I would have probably been sexually satisfied sleeping with Shane, sex with Darkwater would always be the standard by which all other encounters were judged.

Pinning me to the bed, he bent his head to brush his mouth against mine.

I parted my lips and rubbed myself against his groin.

He kissed me slowly, deeply, pressing his tongue in my mouth while grinding his hips against me until I felt on fire with the need to feel his fully erect shaft sliding inside me. I tore my lips away from his just as he shifted his body.

I reached inside his briefs and eased his cock out. He pushed my nightshirt up above my breasts. Moments later, I gasped and shuddered with joy as he slowly pushed his hard length deep into my pussy—where it belonged and would always be welcome.

There was no feeling in the world to rival the joy I felt having him inside my body. Once he was fully seated inside me, he lay still, taking slow deep breaths with his lips pressed against my neck. He trailed his mouth down to whisper something in my ear.

I didn't hear it and really didn't care what he'd said. All I cared about was having my pussy full of his bare cock. I slid my hands around his body to clutch his ass. "Fuck me," I whispered.

"No," he said, his voice brusque. "We can fuck later. First we make love."

That's what we did. And it was the best sex of my life. Each slow, foray deep into my pussy, accompanied by his warm, insistent mouth and tongue raining sweet, moist caresses on my face, neck, and ears, sent chills of delight through me. The delicious motion of his strokes combined with the weight of his body pressing me against the mattress left me feeling completely surrounded and full of his cock. What an utterly wonderful sensation of feeling almost as if I were drowning in him.

I gloried in every thrust of his hips that drove his bare shaft as deep inside my pussy as possible. Trading hungry, greedy kisses with him, I rocked my hips in time with his and felt the sensual tension building between us.

The pleasure I felt was almost incomprehensible. The sense of being a part of him and never wanting the sex to end, even as I rushed towards what I knew would be a powerful and overwhelming orgasm, robbed me of the ability to do anything but feel. Feel and glory in having him inside me again with nothing between my pussy and his utterly delectable thrusting sugar dick that gave mind-numbing pleasure.

As the tension built, I tore my mouth away from his demanding kiss. Moaning, I draped my legs over the back of his thighs. I shuddered while wildly humping on his cock. Then I surrendered to the thrill of unmitigated bliss as my climax rushed over me with the power of a hurricane-like force of nature, shattering and splintering all the mental defenses I'd struggled to erect around my heart; leaving me happily drifting in a vast ocean of total bliss.