Authors: Elizabeth Finn
My gaze sinks to the porch floor as I fight to remain on my feet, and the breath that I’ve been holding for many long seconds, leaves me on a deep exhale that lets go of any hope I had of being with Derek again. I find my voice, wanting to run, but knowing I must say something before I flee. “I’m sorry … I … uh … I’m sorry. I should … I should go.”
But as I turn to leave, my eyes still focusing on my feet, she reaches a hand to mine and stills me. “You must be Ashton.” I abandon my feet for her beautiful face, and see that she is smiling broadly at me. “Well, I see my brother never mentioned me to you. Can’t say I’m surprised… I’m so happy to meet you, Ashton. I’m Morgan Gentry.” She pulls me into a hug, and before she lets me go again, she whispers a final comment in my ear. “You’re just as beautiful as he described.” She pulls away from me, and she is smiling again. She ushers me inside as I look over my shoulder to see Liz staring at me in stunned silence.
When I enter, I stand awkwardly at the door, not certain what to do. This is Morgan.
The
Morgan. The Morgan who is definitely not a man … and this Morgan is Derek’s sister. My mind is reeling, but I have no time to ponder this turn of events at the moment. My heart is sitting on Derek’s entryway floor, ready to be stomped on and destroyed if the next few minutes don’t go the way I intend. And this is the only consideration that I’m willing to think about at the moment.
The house has an open floor plan, and the entryway is unobscured from the kitchen and great room. Derek’s sister walks toward the kitchen, where two coffee cups sit on the island. My eyes travel quickly around the room, finding it empty except for us. Morgan offers me coffee, but the shock and pain I feel must show on my face because she stops in her tracks. She watches me with concern showing genuinely on her face. I must look ridiculous, standing stone-still at the door, with nothing but utter shock showing on my face. As I stand there frozen in place, Derek rounds the corner from the hallway.
He’s fresh from the shower, and wearing nothing but a pair of well-worn jeans that sit low on his stomach. It isn’t until he approaches the kitchen island that he catches sight of me staring open-mouthed at him. When he spots me, he inhales a shocked gasp and reaches mindlessly for the counter of the island. My teeth find my lip, and I start to worry the hell out of it painfully. My breathing is coming in gasps. He looks beyond shocked to see me, tortured even at the sight of me.
Morgan watches us both casually as she fills a cup of coffee for me, and it is she that speaks next. “You like coffee, right, Ashton? Derek tells me you’re addicted to it.”
She is the only person in the room actually smiling, or breathing for that matter. I try to answer her, but I can’t seem to even meet her eyes, let alone speak. My eyes, instead, are glued to Derek’s, and his to mine. And after Morgan bounces her eyes between the two of us enough to dizzy anyone, she gives up. When she grabs her keys and purse from the dining room table, it is with a nearly amused shake of her head.
She stops at the door and regards us both once more. “How about dinner tonight, Derek? Ashton and I have a lot to talk about.” Derek’s eyes don’t leave mine. They are wide, and as impassive as I’ve ever seen them.
“I’ll call you later,” is the only response that he’ll give her. And once the door is closed behind Morgan, and we are at last alone, he finally speaks to me. “Why are you here?”
“I found your note—” I’m practically whispering.
He cuts me off quickly. “It wasn’t an invitation.” That’s painful, and as his impassive face turns harsh and cold, so, too, does my heart.
What did I expect coming here? That he’d be happy to see me? He obviously wanted to distance himself from me, and I’ve obviously misinterpreted what “I love you” means. Since when does it mean stay the hell out of my life? I’ve been too miserable without him to let him get away with hurting me now. He no longer controls my life, and as my hurt builds under the dark, warning look in his eyes, I feel my own features slacken, and I start to cry. I want to share my pain with him.
I want him to know what he’s doing to me, and on a hitching, sobbing voice, I give him all of it. “How dare you? How dare you push me away?” I’m crying as I speak, and it feels damn good. “All I’ve wanted is to be with you, to love you. Why are you doing this?”
I wait, watching him intently. I won’t look away until he’s given me the respect of answering me, but it’s hard. Tears are falling pathetically from my eyes, and my pride wants me to hide, but my heart wants him to know my pain. And as I continue to look at him, I see it. First, it is the harsh clench of his jaw. Then he swallows hard over his Adam’s apple. His hands are clenching and fisted at his sides, and when his eyes slowly sink closed, and on a shake of his head, he looks away from me, I know he’s in my head, and he’s feeling my pain.
“I don’t want to hurt you. God … I just want you to be happy and safe and to be taken care of…” He’s emotional. He won’t look at me, and his brow furrows and releases repeatedly as my pain hits him over and over and over.
But he makes a good point, and I’m more than intent on sharing it with him. “You are the man who wants those things for me… What makes you think that doesn’t make you exactly the man who is supposed to give those things to me?” I’m still crying, but my voice is strong and full of conviction. His gaze flits to mine, and his eyes soften when they take in my pleading face. But I’m not done. “If you don’t love me … if you don’t want to be with me, then tell me. But if you are hurting me to punish yourself…” I trail off, shaking my head.
“I hate myself! Don’t you get it? All I do is hurt you … from the first moment I touched you, I’ve done nothing but hurt you.” The defeat shows on his face, and his voice is harsh and loud.
I’m incredulous. He’s lost his damn mind! “That’s not true!” My incredulity is obvious in my shocked voice.
I’m shaking my head in protest at his words, but he’s not done trying to convince me of his worthlessness. “And if everything else that I put you through wasn’t enough, I gave you to another man.” His self-hatred is so obvious on his beautiful features.
“But that was my choice. I signed up for this knowing full well what was expected of me. You can’t hate yourself for that.” I’m still incredulous.
“The hell I can’t.” He looks so defeated and pained.
“But Derek, that doesn’t make any sense—”
And then he starts yelling, and my body freezes at his outburst. “I was in love with you! And I sold your body to another man to fuck. How the fuck should I feel about that? That I was doing my job? I loved you, and I still did it!”
His face crumbles as his eyes water and tear, and my heart lurches at his pain. As his tears spill silently while his brow furrows in pain, I approach him quickly and reach for his face. The man who mastered the art of impassivity is as vulnerable as any other person in the world, and his vulnerability is me. His tears come silently as I watch him. I’m in pain just seeing his pain, and I want to end it for him.
“I forgive you.” They’re the only words I can give him, and I pray desperately they’re enough. I repeat those words over and over and over, pleadingly, until he finally let’s his eyes meet mine.
When he eventually wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his body, my heart lets go of the terror that has seized me since arriving, and my entire body relaxes into his. I’m standing on my tiptoes, and he’s leaning his head down to my neck. After many minutes of this embrace, I start to relax and think that perhaps there’s a chance.
He’s not pushing me away anymore, and in my desire to remind him of his humanity, I quietly speak in his ear. “You’ve done far more for me than you give yourself credit for.” My voice is hardly more than a whisper, but he hears me well, and he pulls his head from my neck and starts to interrupt immediately. But before he can get a word out, I tell him to shut up, with a gentle smile pulling at the corners of my mouth for the first time since arriving.
He quietly watches me, waiting for me to speak again. “You’ve looked after me, worried about me, been gentle with me, taken care of me, you’ve allowed every last one of your barriers to crumble because of me… And if that weren’t enough, you paid a small fortune to protect me. You couldn’t have done more unless you’d rescued me from a sinking ship … which figuratively you kind of did.” I’m smiling gently at him. This man is torturing himself for what he thinks he’s done to me. The man who, until a month ago, ruled my world is now despising himself out of guilt.
“How can you possibly forgive me?” He’s holding my eyes steadily. He’s not pitying himself; he’s not humoring me. He wants to know. He needs to know.
“For whatever you think you’ve done wrong, you have my forgiveness. I promise you. But you can’t do this to yourself, or you destroy us, and you mean too much to me.” His eyes are relaxing with every word I speak. I’m reaching him. So I push my luck. “Besides, you have the rest of your life to make it up to me. And I’m sure you can come up with a few interesting ways to appease me…”
I smirk as his tongue unconsciously runs over his bottom lip before he bites it gently in contemplation. And he smiles; it’s weary, it’s tired and defeated, but it’s gentle and genuine. It’s the smile that tells me I’ve won. I’m eyeing his mouth greedily. With his relaxing body, I’m finally able to think about something other than my fear of losing him, and I’m thinking about his mouth. I’m thinking about our heat.
His eyes are smoldering, and my heart is finally racing for the right reasons. He leans toward my mouth, but stops short of breaking contact with my eyes. And he says it. “I love you.” When his lips touch mine, my body melts in pleasure, but as he pulls his lips from mine, he looks with wonder to my upturned face. “How did I become so obsessed with you?”
“My plan from the start…” I try for seductive, but I’m sure it’s a fail.
He mocks me with my own words from the last time we were here together. “And here I thought you hated me…”
I return the mock. “I never hated you.”
He smiles gently and returns his mouth to mine. My knees are shaking, and warmth is flooding to my core. But before my knees give out completely, he lifts me to straddle his hips. I’m firm against his groin, and he’s hard in desire. He carries me down the hallway to his master bedroom and lays me gently on the bed, covering my body with his.
He slowly and meticulously starts to wriggle my jeans over my hips and down my legs, and my pussy soaks instantly in anticipation of his touch. I’ve missed this. As my underwear is equally slowly pulled from my hips, and my sex exposed to him for the first time in a month, his eyes darken and burn with heat.
He leans toward my mouth one more time, giving me a short kiss before whispering quietly in my ear, “I will never share you with anyone again; I promise.”
He lowers his mouth between my legs as he watches my eyes. When his tongue slides slowly and lightly between the cleft of my sex, I gasp loudly. The warmth of his breath with the tickle of his tongue lightly passing over my skin is enough to send an uncontrollable shudder through my body. I want him to devour me, but he’s in the mood to torture me. As he continues to lightly and playfully run his tongue over my slick folds of skin, my arousal builds to an almost painful level. And before long, I’m begging.
With one more smirk to my desperate, pleading eyes, he latches himself to my body harshly, and he does devour me. He pulls my clit within his mouth, and he tortures the tight nub with his tongue. When he separates from my body, it is only so he can lick every exposed inch of my skin, soothing me with the warmth of his tongue. But I need to come desperately, and when his tongue finds my nub again, it is mere seconds before my body explodes and I do. My orgasm has me convulsing and tightening every muscle in my body, and when it finally fades, I’m gasping for breath.
As I lie panting, barely able to move, he moves up my body and swiftly plunges to his hilt within my tight sheath. It’s been over a month since I’ve made love to him, and my body feels as tight as the first time he took me. I’m in pain, but my body adjusts quickly in my contentment. I’m finally complete and filled with him. He moves slowly at first, seeing the pain in my eyes, but as I adjust, his thrusts quicken. Before long, he’s driving powerfully into my body, expecting me to accept all of him. It is furiously fast and intense, and he comes quickly and harshly, panting against my neck as his orgasm fades from his body. But he doesn’t pull from my body. Instead, he stays within me.
He’s watching me. His finger is winding through my stray curls, and he watches as they spring back to shape as he lets go. His finger moves to my face, tracing over my cheek, gently caressing the skin. It trails down to my chin before tracing my lips. He’s watching so closely, studying his touch and my skin. When his finger moves to run down the bridge of my nose to the tip, he finishes as he leans his mouth to kiss the tip of my nose. It is a gentle tickle as he connects to my skin. I stay still as he continues to watch me and touch me. His slow, deep breathing is hypnotic, and I’m in heaven.
When he finally pulls from my body, he takes his place behind me and pulls my back into his body, but he’s not finished with me yet. He presses his mouth to my shoulder and starts kissing gently across my shoulders and back.
He makes his way to my far shoulder, leans to my ear, and with a deep steadying breath, he speaks to me. “I want you to stay. I’m not going back to the city. This is where I grew up, and this is where my family is. I know it’s my home, but I want it to be yours too…”
This is my dream. The corners of my mouth pull up at his words, though he can’t see my expression.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Even in my contentment, a twinge of unwelcome worry plagues me after the last month apart, but he reassures me easily as he pulls me to face him. “I’m never letting you go again. I promise. I never wanted to be apart from you. I just wanted…” His head is shaking slowly from side to side, and his brow is furrowed. “I just wanted what was best for you. And I didn’t think that I was.” His eyes are sad as they regard mine.