Goodbye to You (12 page)

I bolt to the bedroom to grab a condom.

I return and kneel in front of her again, pressing my palms against her creamy cheeks dotted with a sweet pink flush. The deluge we were caught in earlier did not wash away the raspberries.

I want to eat her up.

Her forehead is warm under my lips, and her sigh tickles my ear as I move to brush a kiss into the crook of her neck.

My fingers weave into her silky hair. I need to taste her.

I press my open mouth to hers, my tongue plunging inside to drink in her sweetness. Her groans mingle with my own.

I touch her back, stroking and squeezing. Her whole body trembles against mine.

I slide my hands between us, one thumb brushing a pebbled nipple. She gasps and I swallow the sound. A single thought crosses my mind.

I’d do
anything
to make this moment last forever.

She offers me her neck, so I bury my nose there and inhale her fruitiness. Her delicate hands leave a trail of scorch marks on my arms and back.

I suck on the sensitive skin of her neck then lick the red spot. She’s sweet and salty and irresistible.

The shadowed crevice of her cleavage beckons and my tongue traces a path downward. I pull back and tug her shirt off before dropping a kiss on the top of each breast above the silky pink fabric of her bra. Her hands move to my head, gripping my hair and encouraging me.

I capture a nipple through the thin material and suck until the bud hardens against my tongue.

Her sharp gasp echoes through the room.

I continue teasing the peak, swirling my tongue around before repeating on the other side.

Thea moans and tugs at my hair, pushing my head lower.

I lay her back on the worn area rug and kneel between her legs, kissing her rounded belly before moving to tease the tender flesh inside each knee.

Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her breath coming in sweet little pants.

I pause above the pale nest of curls between her thighs. Her clean, slightly musky scent arouses me further.

She arches her hips to my face, and I grab on as I sink my tongue into her slick, hot cleft, lapping at her sweetness.

She’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

Her engorged clitoris is hard in my mouth as I suck on the bundle of nerves, flicking my tongue back and forth. Her legs shake. It’s coming.

She’s coming.

Thea rocks her pelvis against my mouth, and I come to my knees as her shudders fade.

She props up on her elbows and reaches one hand between us.

My breath hitches as her hot hand grasps my penis.

She’s pushing me back, crawling on all fours as I inch backward to the couch, sliding on to it. She doesn’t follow, and instead slips a throw pillow on the cold tile between my feet, kneels between my legs.

I raise my hand to touch her hair billowing around her face and am surprised to see I’m not shaking on the outside.

Because my insides are whipping around like a Category 5 hurricane about to hit land.

She licks the bead of pre-come from the head of my penis, and my hips jerk at the contact.

Then her lips encase me as her fingers dig into my thigh muscles. Encouraged by the loud groan erupting from my throat, her wet mouth slides on my shaft, and pinpricks of hot pleasure blinding me.

My fingers graze her scalp and tighten when her moans vibrate against my sensitive flesh. My gaze falls to her, to find her clear blue eyes watching me.

She may be on her knees, but I don’t fool myself into believing I’m in control.

Thea has all the power in the world at the moment, and all I can do is beg her for mercy.

“Please.” It’s more a grunt than an actual word.

She understands though. She quickens her pace, her sweet mouth frantic as one hand cups my testicles and massages gently.

My shoulders tense as a bolt of lightning strikes my stomach.

I can’t hold back.

“Sweetheart, sto—” I try to pull out, but her mouth remains firm, sucking and licking and asking me to . . .

My body shakes from the inside out, vibrating from my groin and tingling to my fingers and toes. I fall back against the cushion, and she climbs into my lap, her sweet lips nuzzling my neck.

Her sweat-slicked skin glistens, the scent of berries intensified by the heat of our passion.

My heartbeat slows to a normal pace. The stroke of her fingers on my skin could lull me to sleep.

But I refuse to sleep tonight. These last few days were extraordinary, and I hope if I stay awake the magic will last.

We stretch out on the couch, and I slide my hands across her powdery-soft skin.

She props her chin on my chest, biting her lip, her forehead wrinkling.

I brush a few strands of hair from her face, and stroke my thumbs across her jaw, her temples.

She stares at me as she chews on the inside of her cheek, making me squirm.

“What?”

“You know about the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to me . . .”

I laugh. I’m sure it ranks as one of my mom’s most embarrassing moments too.

“. . . so you tell me yours.”

Huh. I’m not sure what to say. None of my embarrassments come near hers.

I don’t want to make her feel bad, but I’m not one to lie. “I got nothing on you.”

She pops onto her forearms, eyes wide and lips pursed.

She’s so cute when she’s indignant.

“Not fair. You know a secret I won’t ever tell anyone, ever. ‘Fess up. You’ve gotta give me something.”

I consider this for a few moments.

There’s something. It’s dark and heartbreaking, though, far from humiliating.

For some reason, I’m compelled to tell her.

About my mother. My birth mother.

I’ve never talked to anyone outside my family about what happened, except Fred.

“All right. When I was six, before we moved here, my ma took us out. The weather was dreadful, and she had no business driving. She veered off the road, and we hit a tree at full speed.” My breath shudders in and out as I recall the scene.

Her voice is rife with concern. “Shay, no, don’t. You don’t have to . . .”

But I want to. Need to.

“The stench . . . the engine was on fire, a metallic tang in the air. I was thrown from the car, injured, but Mac was crying—he was three—and Liam was begging for her to wake up.

“I had to get back to the car. Though I couldn’t walk, desperation urged me forward, compelled me to crawl back through the icy muck to the car to help them. I pulled Liam from Ma’s neck and unbuckled Mac from his car seat and wrapped him in his blanket. Ma wouldn’t wake up, but we couldn’t stay. Not with the car on fire. I feared the worst, that she was . . . and I had to save my brothers.”

She sniffs and I open my eyes, jerking me from the nightmare world.

“The accident, a couple days ago, when I went to the hospital . . .”

“Mmm hmm?”

“Mac was driving. He ran off the road, and we feared the worst. That he tried to . . .”

I can’t finish, but her faint nod tells me she understands.

Her bright blue eyes darken, and tears threaten to spill. “Shay, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up your pain.”

“Don’t be sorry. My ma was sad for so long, and it was inevitable.” Again, her face screws up. “For many years, everyone said it was an ‘unfortunate accident.’ My mother wanted to commit suicide, and she tried to take us with her. Da found her note and admitted this to us about ten years ago. I was so angry with him for keeping this secret from me, from us. We all deserved the truth. It’s been hardest for my brothers. Liam was closest to her, and he still can’t talk about that day. Mac was too young to remember, but we all worry, because of his multiple diagnoses. So we keep a close eye on him and make sure he gets the treatment he needs.”

“You’re amazing. How heroic of you, to go back for your brothers. You were still a baby yourself and injured.” She kneels above me, her fingers circling the scars on my leg, the other on my arm. “Are these . . . ?”

I nod. I can’t put into words how wretched it is to carry around the physical reminder of the crash. The occasional aches, the ugly scars.

Thea kisses the puckered skin, her silky hair falling on my thighs, her hands gently caressing each mark with reverence. She brushes stray strands of hair behind her ears and gazes into my eyes, her own brimming with tears.

“What you did, what you saw, what you’ve been through—no one should go through that. Especially at that age. You’re a hero. Never forget.”

For the first time, as I see myself through her eyes, see the admiration shining there, I believe it. My heart swells and my stomach clenches. The bitterness I’ve carried for so long for my birth mother is slipping away.

I want to replace it with something else.

Something akin to love.

How the heck am I going to let this go?

How the hell am I gonna let him go?

Long distance shit doesn’t work. Leesh and Dev struggled with it; Dev swore the day he moved everything would be fine. For a few months, everything
was
fine, with each visiting the other once. The daily phone calls dwindled to every couple days, to once a week, to nothing by May.

It didn’t end badly.

It simply ended.

Leesh isn’t angry or bitter, just sad.

I’ve experienced enough sadness to fill a lifetime, and I don’t want to draw more sorrow into my life.

We’re walking back to the condo, at a pace slower than normal.

I told Shay I would get back on my own, but he insisted. He grips my hand, and I squeeze his fingers. We need to break this contact soon.

But not yet.

“Breakfast?”

We pause, and Shay tips his head at a small, rustic restaurant with a heavy wood door and hand-painted signs attached to a whitewashed fence. The door opens, and the scents of bacon and buttered toast entice my nostrils, but my stomach turns. I can’t even think about eating.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

Which is stupid. This thing with Shay has been fantastic. I got what I wanted—hot vacation sex from a guy with an Olympic athlete-caliber body, a model’s face, and mad skills in the sack.