So Much More (Made for Love #3) (34 page)

“Take me home,” I whisper. At first, I’m not sure if he can hear me over the music and the sound of the bar’s patrons, but then he’s helping me out of his lap and leading me toward the door.

There are no goodbyes.

There are no over-the-shoulder glances.

It’s just him and me.

Neither of us looking back.

I
WANT TO LOSE
myself in her. I want to be so deep inside of her that neither of us can tell where I end and she begins. I want her wrapped around me, body and soul. I want to consume her and I want her to take me captive. I want to make her mine, now and forever. I don’t want her to ever let me go. I want it so much, my chest feels hollow. I need her. I need her to fill the void.

Sarah. Only Sarah.

She’s squeezing my hand so tight, it’s like she wishes we could be fused together. Her unspoken desire increases my longing. Before either of us climbs into the Camaro, I know that I have to kiss her again. Until I do, I can’t even
think
about driving. I press her up against the passenger side door and she hums her understanding as she circles her arms around my neck and thrusts her tongue into my mouth.

The growl that forces its way out of my throat won’t be silenced.

I need more.

More Sarah.

So much more.

I press my erection between her legs, wanting her to feel just how much she effects me. She hooks her leg around mine, beckoning me closer. It’s time we got the hell out of here. As soon as I break our kiss, she spins around and reaches for the door handle.

“I got it, babe,” she assures me, granting me permission to slack on my gentlemanly task so that I can get to the other side of the car and jump in myself. I can’t say for certain what’s going to happen when we get home. Until she says the words, I won’t dare to do more than imagine what I’d
like
to do. She sets our pace. She has the power and the right to say no at any time; but the electricity that’s charging between the two of us is outrageous, and it’s propelling us forward at a speed that feels unstoppable.

If she’s ready—I’ll make love to my sweet girl, my Sunshine, all damn night.

Just thinking about it makes my dick ache. I want inside of her so badly.

The drive across town is the longest fucking twenty minutes of my life! Neither of us speaks a word. We fill the car with the sound of our breathing. There are no words for this moment. No words that would make this wait any more tolerable. We suffer through it in silence—my hand gripping her thigh, her fingers tracing anxious circles around my wrist.

By the time we’ve arrived, the atmosphere has changed. Now, I can feel her nervous energy. I give her leg a gentle squeeze and she looks at me bashfully—those blue eyes bringing back the fucking butterflies. Now I’m nervous, too. If this goes where I think it’s going—
dear Lord, please let it be
—I want it to be perfect. She’s waited for this moment and if she gifts it to me, she deserves as close to perfection as I can possibly give.

I hop out of the car and hurry to her door. When I reach for her hand, I don’t miss the slight tremble she tries to hide. Without a second thought, I scoop her up into my arms, cradling her against my chest. “I’ve got you, sweet girl. I promise.” She holds on to me tightly, pressing her cheek to mine as I carry her up the flight of stairs to the landing just in front of my door.

Once inside, I place her on her feet. Instead of letting me go, she buries her fingers in my hair and pulls me down for a kiss. The instant our mouths collide, it’s as if the spark between us has been reignited. I kiss her slowly at first. Then she kisses me deeper. Then I kiss her harder. My shirt is the first to be discarded. It hits the floor just as she begins to brush her lips across my chest. When she licks her way up my neck and nibbles on my ear, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop our forward progression. I make quick work of her dress as I encourage her backwards toward the bed. She unfastens the top of my jeans as I unhook her bra. The more we take off, the more frantic we become.

We tumble into the bed and I don’t know how much longer I can last before I lose my ever-loving mind. When it’s just us—her, perfectly, beautifully, flawlessly, and enticingly bare, and me, naked, ready, waiting, wanting—it’s all I can do to hold onto
one last rational thought
.

“Baby?” I ask between kisses.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want? What now, sweet girl?”

“
You,
” she breathes. “Brandon, I want you—all of you.”

I move away from her just long enough to reach inside my nightstand to grab a condom from my stash. As I rip the package open with my teeth, I can see that she’s gotten nervous again. “Sarah—are you sure? We don’t—”

“Yes. I’m ready.
I trust you
.”

I trust you.

She says the words and the unthinkable happens.

I trust you.

In a flash, I’m not here. I’m
there
. In my room—with the girl who would become my recluse lover; the girl who found her way to me through my opened window.

I trust you.

Those three words were the beginning. They were our end.

You’re my best friend. You won’t say no. You never do.

I trust you. You’re my best friend.

Olivia.

“
Fuck!
” I push myself up onto my knees and press the heels of my hands against my eyes. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I try desperately to get her out of my head. To get
Olivia
out of my head—but I can’t. I fucking can’t.

Now, all I can think about is my first time.
Our
first time. That night—it changed everything. It
ruined
everything. It ruined me.

It fucking ruined me!

Now—Sarah’s trust isn’t enough. It’s not even close to enough.

The woman I love is laying here, naked, asking for me, and all I can think about—

You’re my best friend. You won’t say no. You never do.

“Brandon? What’s wrong?”

“We can’t do this.” I drop my hands and look into her eyes. She stares back at me, her brow furrowed in concern.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—” I’m not sure what to say. I don’t know how to begin to explain. I know I’m not making any sense, but how do I tell her that what she’s trying to give me isn’t enough? “I can’t do this.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!
“I can’t do this, Sarah. We can’t do this.”

“Stop!” she cries, pushing herself into a seated position. “Stop saying that! Of course we can. I’m ready. I want this.”

I can feel it when my heart cracks open. The devastated look on her face—it’s my fault. I hate myself for putting it there, but I love her and her
trust
is not enough.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

This isn’t happening, right? It’s not! It’s not happening again. I mean—it can’t possibly…

“You’re sorry?
You’re
sorry? You’re
sorry?
”I shake my head, hoping that the act will make me un-hear his words. “You—the man who doesn’t believe in
I’m sorries
—you’re apologizing to me? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

He doesn’t speak. Instead, he looks at me as if he’s breaking—as if
he’s
the one whose heart is literally being ripped into two right now.

How dare he!

I reach for the sheet, suddenly feeling overexposed and far too vulnerable.

My heart sees red!

I’m not angry. It’s not anger that overwhelms me or anger that floods my eyes with tears and clogs my throat with my sob. It’s the realization that I’m reliving the most humiliating moment of my life—except this is worse. When I look at Brandon, all I can think about is that fucking red coat!

“I don’t understand!” I choke. “How is it possible that this could happen to a girl twice? I mean—is there something wrong with me?”

His brow creases in confusion. “What? Sunshine what are you—”

He reaches for me but I shrug away from him. “No! You can’t say no to me and then—”

“Help me to understand,” he pleads, balling his hands into fists, as if it pains him that he can’t touch me. “What do you mean? This has happened to you before?”

As tears spill down my cheeks, words spew from my mouth. My heightened emotional state, coupled with my complete and utter shock, have obviously removed my filter.

“I was ready. One time before now—I thought I was ready. So I showed up to his house. I knew Micah was with his grandparents for the weekend—he’d been talking about his trip for weeks. I thought I’d be fun and spontaneous and sexy,” I cough out a laugh.

“I wore nothing but my underwear and that fucking red coat. When he answered the door—I showed him what was underneath. He’d been begging for it for months. He let me stand there as he stared. He let me stand there long enough for his wife to show up and see me out on their front porch. Like it wasn’t bad enough that he had lied to me, he didn’t even have the decency to reject me respectfully. He didn’t cover me up. He didn’t tell me he was sorry. All he said was,
what are you doing here?
Like he hadn’t told me he loved me the day before

“His wife,
his wife
had been out of the country. She was a chef and she had spent half of the year studying out of the country. Then there she was, standing next to him, claiming him. In the blink of an eye, I became the slutty teacher who was trying to seduce her husband.

“And if
that
wasn’t humiliating enough, if this whole year and everything that I’ve been through, everything that I’ve been trying to overcome, if
all of that
wasn’t hard enough—now I’m in
your
bed and I’m telling you I’m ready and I’m telling you I want you and you’re telling me
you’re sorry
.

“Well, I don’t accept your fucking apology!”

I start to move, wanting nothing more than to be miles away from this situation. I can’t even describe my disappointment. My heart is too broken to even fully comprehend how much it’s going to hurt to leave him behind. I never, ever, thought that
this
would happen—that he would look me straight in the face and tell me that he didn’t want me. I have never misjudged a situation as devastatingly as I’ve misjudged this one.

I thought he might have actually…

I can’t even think the words. Unrequited love sucks with all of your clothes
on
. It’s a million times worse when you’re so naked—emotionally, physically—I’m practically transparent.

As I try to crawl around him, he blocks me. I don’t meet his eyes as I try to get around him again. A tearful sigh forces itself from my lips as he takes hold of my chin and lifts my face. I try so hard not to lift my gaze, but then he speaks.

“I’m not him. I’m not
him,
Sarah, remember? This,
this
is yours and mine.”

“I thought you wanted me,” I sob, his tenderness confusing me further, pushing me over the edge.

“I
do
—baby, I
do,
” he insists, gripping his hands around my face. “That’s why I’m telling you no. God, do you think I want to be having this conversation?”

“I don’t understand!”