MacNamarasLady (19 page)

“Listen. How would you like to come over to
talk?” If they hoped to have a chance at making their relationship work, they
had to lay their pasts out in the open. Otherwise it was like tiptoeing through
a minefield. You never knew what was going to cause an explosion.

A knock came on her front door. She thought
about ignoring it, but it came again. “Listen, can you hold on for a second.
There’s someone at the door.”

Missy pushed off the sofa and padded to the
door in stocking feet, keeping the phone in her hand. She wasn’t willing to
relinquish the tenuous link between them. She looked through the peephole. All
she could see was a bouquet of flowers. She opened the door, but kept the
safety chain on.

T.S. stood in her hallway. But it was a
T.S. she hadn’t seen since the night of the wedding. He was wearing a suit and
tie and carrying a dozen red roses in one hand, his phone in the other. “Hey.”

She blinked and blinked again.

“You gonna let me in?” She clicked off her
phone and dumped it on the entryway table. It only took her a few seconds and a
fumble or two to undo the chain and open the door.

T.S. stepped inside and kicked the door
shut behind him. “For you.” He thrust the roses toward her.

“They’re beautiful.” She buried her face in
them and inhaled their rich, seductive scent.

“They reminded me of you—dark, beautiful
and classy.”

This T.S. was much different from the man
she’d dealt with earlier today. That man had been earthy and raw. This man was
sleeker, more of the man she’d always imagined herself with.

While he was still sexy as sin, she wasn’t
sure she liked the change.

“Thank you. I’ll put them in water.” She
hurried to the kitchen and got a crystal vase out of the cupboard. T.S.
followed her, watching as she filled the vase and arranged the roses.

“Let’s go sit down.” It was her home but it
was T.S. who guided her back into the other room. She felt very underdressed in
her lounging sweats. He looked handsome as sin and good enough to eat. The
shoulder seams of the suit were straining to keep him contained. He was so
muscular, so strong.

She settled on the sofa, turning sideways
so she could face him as he took the other end. He motioned to the stereo.
“Classic rock. I figured it would be classical.”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t in the mood for
classical.”

His black hair was brushed away from his
face, giving her a perfect view of his face. Those golden-brown eyes, strong
nose, firm lips and olive complexion. Her body started humming. She ignored it.
They had to talk.

“My mother did her best for us when we were
kids. Me and my older brother, Cameron.” Missy stilled as she realized T.S. was
telling her about his past. Her heart rate quickened.

“You don’t have to do this.” She reached
out, capturing his hand in hers. Her skin was much darker than his, soft where
his was hard. “You don’t have to spill your past to me. I want you, Theo. The
man you’ve become. The man you are—honest, loyal, hardworking and handsome.
Whatever reason you were in prison doesn’t matter. I know you, here.” She
lifted his hand, placing it over her heart before moving her hand to cover his.
The heavy, steady pounding filled her palm.

She loved him. She had to trust him if
their relationship was going to have a chance to work. She did trust him. She
knew the man he was today. That was all that mattered.

T.S. swallowed the lump in his throat. Here
was what he’d always wanted. Acceptance. Unconditional and unreserved. He could
tell from the look in Missy’s eyes that she meant what she said. She was willing
to put this aside and take him as he was.

Strangely enough, that made it easier to
tell her. Made him want to tell her. He wanted a clean slate between them. No
more secrets. He was no longer a frightened, insecure teenage boy. He was a man
who loved a woman. That meant being courageous enough to open up all the wounds
from his past.

“My father left when we were kids. I don’t
remember him much. He was a big, brawny Scot who’d come over to America to work
and hooked up with my mom, a third generation Greek. Cam took after him and I
favored Mama’s side of the family. Anyway, when she got pregnant, they got
married. Tried to make it work. Her family didn’t like him and it drove a wedge
between them. He left just after my fourth birthday. Cam was eight.”

“Your poor mother.” She lifted his hand
from her heart and kissed the center of his palm. He closed his hand around
hers.

“Yeah. She did her best, but she worked two
jobs, sometimes three.” He raked his fingers through his hair, realized what he
was doing and made himself stop. He didn’t like thinking about the past, about
the poverty and hardships. But they’d shaped his childhood and made him into
the man he was today.

“We lived in the projects and grew up fast
and hard. I did my best to stay out of trouble, but Cam…” He shook his head.
“Cam drew trouble like a magnet.”

“What happened?”

“There was a girl I liked. I’d been trying
to get up the nerve to ask her out on a date for months.”

“You?” Missy’s shock warmed his heart and
made him grin.

“Yeah, I was a late bloomer. Even at
eighteen I was scrawny and a few inches shorter than I am now.”

Missy smiled. “Bet you still looked hot.”

Her gentle teasing made it easier to go on.
“My brother said it was all set. She’d go out with me on a double date with her
friend and Cam. I was so excited. Cam even let me drive his old beat-up Dodge
Charger. I felt like a man. What I was, was an idiot.”

“No, not that. Never that. You were young
and trusting.”

He snorted. “I’d never been trusting, not
in the neighborhood I grew up in. Kids got shaken down for their lunch money
all the time and some even had their shoes stolen right off their feet if they
weren’t tough enough to keep them.”

He shook his head. No, he’d never been
innocent and trusting. At least not with anyone but his brother. He’d idolized
Cam and his brother’s betrayal had hurt worse than going to prison had.

“I never saw this coming. Cam and his girl
wanted to stop at a liquor store on the way to the party we were going to. I
sat in the car and tried to chat up the girl. She kept looking at the door of
the liquor store. Should have clued me in but I was too nervous, wondering how
far I was going to get with her.”

“Of course you were.”

Her dry tone made him chuckle. “Hey, I was
an eighteen-year-old guy who’d lusted after this girl for forever.”

“Go on,” Missy encouraged.

“My brother comes hurrying out with his
girl. They dive into the backseat and tell me to drive. I drove. The cops
pulled us over a few blocks away. They’d held up the liquor store and shot the
clerk. Cam fired on the cops and shot one of them. Thankfully, no one died. We
were all charged. I was driving the getaway car.”

“But you weren’t involved. You didn’t
know.”

T.S. snorted. “Like anyone other than my
mother believed that. Because a cop was involved they wanted to make examples
out of all of us.” He rolled his shoulders and rubbed his hands over his face,
wishing he could erase his past. “I went to prison. When I got out, I started
working construction and eventually started my own company. End of story.”

Missy flung herself at him, throwing her
arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry, Theo.” He closed his eyes and savored her
heat, the press of her body against him. There was nothing sexual about the
touch. It was meant to comfort him. And, strangely enough, it did.

He shifted so he could pull her onto his
lap and hold her properly. They sat there for a while, simply being with one
another. The music played low in the background. This was what he wanted for
the rest of his life.

“Tell me about your past, Missy.” He wanted
to know everything about her. “I know my comment hurt you when I meant it to do
the opposite.” He brushed a lock of hair away from her face and stroked a
finger down her smooth cheek.

“Later.” She leaned in and kissed him. It
was a soft, gentle exploration as her tongue stroked his. He sucked in a breath
as his balls tightened and his cock hardened. His hands closed around her. Her
breasts pressed against his chest, the soft mounds compressing against his
thick, heavy muscles.

Her hands stroked through his hair and
gripped his skull, holding him still for her kiss. He wasn’t going anywhere. He
was in heaven.

Missy continued to use her mouth, lips and
tongue to drive him crazy. Yet, there was no hurry. This was different from
earlier today. This was the first step in the rest of their relationship. They
were taking it to a new level and they both knew it.

He fisted his hand in her hair and angled
her head so he could get deeper. She moaned and he swallowed the small sound.
He kissed her with everything he had, letting her know how much he wanted and
needed her.

When he pulled back a long time later, they
were both breathless. His heart was pounding a relentless beat that matched the
throbbing in his cock.

She slid off his lap and he couldn’t hold back
a groan when her hip grazed his erection. She smiled—that womanly, seductive
one he loved so much. It was filled with understanding and promise.

She held out her hand. “Come with me.”

Chapter Thirteen

Missy was no longer cold. She was hot.
Burning with repressed sexual need. But it went so much deeper than that. T.S.
had told her about his past. He’d trusted her enough to open up to her even
after she’d told him it wasn’t necessary. She owed him the same truth.

But later. Much later. Now she wanted, no
needed, to reconnect with him physically. To let him know how much she cared.

She loved him.

There was no doubt in her mind whatsoever.
Her well-laid plans were out the window. T.S. might not be the sophisticated
businessman she’d pictured herself with but he was now the only man she could
ever imagine being with.

He was stubborn, opinionated, loyal,
caring, intelligent and hardworking. He had a checkered past. But so did she.
He touched her soul, making her feel things she hadn’t thought possible.

Whenever she’d envisioned a future with a
man it had been more of a concept. The man of her dreams would fit easily into
her life.

Missy almost snorted aloud. There was
nothing easy about T.S. MacNamara. And, surprisingly enough, she liked it that
way.

With his hand locked around hers, she led
him down the short hall to her bedroom. There was no need to turn on the
lights. There was more than enough illumination from the hallway and the
streetlight filtering in through the window.

He tugged on her hand. She stopped and
turned toward him. His hands slid beneath her fleecy top, shoving it upward.
Missy raised her hands over her head, helping him as he pulled it from her.

He made a sound of pleasure in the back of
his throat as his hands covered the lacy cups of her bra. It was white and
contrasted with her dark skin.

“Chocolate and cream,” he murmured. “That’s
what you remind me of.” He ran his fingers up the straps, slipping them
beneath. “I do love your appreciation of fancy lingerie.”

He tugged the straps down her arms,
exposing her breasts. She shivered, aroused by this touch and the way he gazed
at her with such fire in his eyes.

“I missed you.” She’d said the words before
she’d even realized she was going to. But they were true. She had missed him
every day they’d been apart. She’d missed talking to him, sharing a meal and
her day with him, sharing a bed with him.

“Me too.” He leaned down and laved the skin
around her nipple with his tongue. The wet heat was exquisite, but he never
quite touched her where she wanted him. Missy grabbed his head and tugged his
mouth to her nipple.

He chuckled and then lapped at the hard
peak. “That what you want, babe?”

Cocky bastard. He knew what she wanted. He
took the nub into his mouth and sucked. Ribbons of desire coursed through her
limbs before gathering at her core. Oh yeah, that’s what she wanted.

He went down on his knees, his hands
coasting along her rib cage and settling on her hips. “You don’t need these.”
He pushed his hands inside the elastic waistband of her sweats and shoved them
down her legs. She kicked them away.

She was clad in white lace panties that
matched the bra that was still tangled beneath her breasts. Impatient, she
undid the hooks of her bra and let it fall to the floor. T.S. wrapped his arms
around her waist and buried his face against her, simply holding her.

Missy’s throat went tight at the suppressed
emotion behind the hug. She ran her fingers through his hair and turned her
face upward. “Not that you don’t look sexy in your suit, because you do. But
you have way too many clothes on.”

A brief smile broke the austere planes of
his face and his eyes practically twinkled as he stood. “Let’s see what we can
do about that.” He shed his suit jacket, tossing it over the chair in the
corner of her bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and bent to remove his socks.
“Why don’t you get comfy?”