Текст книги "Falling "

Автор книги: E. K. Blair

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 29 страниц)

“What the hell is this, Mark?” I call out from the kitchen when I open the box with the cake.

He’s on the couch, drinking a beer with Jase, and responds nonchalantly, “You put me in charge of the cake, so I got her a cake.”

“She’s turning twenty-three, man.”

“Yeah, I know. Trust me, she’ll like it,” he tells me with an exaggerated wink.

“There are fuckin’ rats in tutus.”

“They’re mice,” he corrects as I look back down at the cake that’s fit for a five-year-old. “It came with a free ‘Angelina the Ballerina’ ring,” he laughs as he holds up his hand to show me the pink plastic ring he’s wearing on his pinky.

I shake my head and laugh with them as I grab a beer and join them in the living room.

“You gonna give that to her?”

He smirks, saying, “No way, man. This is mine.”

We hang out and watch TV for a few minutes until Candace walks through the door. She gives Mark and Jase each a hug and kiss before I call her over and pull her onto my lap.

“I missed you,” I whisper as I run my nose up her neck and then tease, “Mmmm . . . coffee.”

She always smells like she’s bathed in a latte when she gets off work.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower. I’ll be back,” she says as she hops off of my lap.

I watch as she goes up the stairs, and as if we had planned it, my phone buzzes with a text from my mom letting me know she’s about fifteen minutes out.

“Did Candace find out about her audition yet?” Mark asks.

“Not yet. She should know tomorrow.”

“So what are you guys gonna do this weekend?” Jase asks as he takes a sip of his beer.

“My mom is only able to stay through tomorrow afternoon, so we will probably just lay low.”

We continue to talk about nothing in particular for a while when the doorbell rings.

“Hey, Mom,” I greet as I open the door.

She steps in and gives me a big hug, saying, “It’s good to see you, dear.”

“Donna?” I hear Candace call out from behind me, and when I turn to see her walking down the stairs, the surprised look on her face makes me smile.

“Candace,” Mom says, excited to see her.

“What are you doing here?” She is completely caught off guard, wearing her pajamas with her hair pulled on top of her head, as she gives my mom an excited hug.

“I wasn’t going to miss your birthday. But I’m a little disappointed that I had to hear about it from Ryan when you and I talk every week.”

I step beside Candace, shoot her a wink, and kiss her on the cheek.

“Sorry, I . . . I don’t normally do anything for my birthday, but I’m so happy you’re here,” she says and then hugs Mom again. “I can’t believe you drove all this way.”

“It’s a few hours, dear. Hardly a chore.” I watch as my mom takes Candace’s hand and walks over to Mark and Jase.

Candace introduces them, and I make my way into the kitchen.

“Mom, what do you want to drink?”

“A glass of wine will be good.”

“Me too,” Candace tells me, and I laugh at the memory of her drunk the last time she had wine with Jase, so I just have to tease her, asking, “You’re not gonna get drunk, slap my ass, and tell me how sexy I am, are you?”

“Ryan!” she scolds, completely embarrassed, and shoots a look towards my mom.

I laugh at her, knowing that she has nothing to be concerned about when it comes to my mom. She adores Candace, and the two of them have become quite close in the past couple of months.

I take a seat on the couch next to Candace as the three of us chat. I wanted to do something more for tonight, but this was probably the best idea. As we spend the evening relaxing and visiting over pizza, wine, and beer, I take in the fact that I have never had this before. At least not here in Seattle. I’m close with my family back home, but never felt that connection here, until now—until her. I’ve always known from the start that Jase, Candace, and Mark were tight. Just the three of them. And before I realized it, I’d become a part of that.

I’ve never had friendships and connections like I have with these people. I never wanted to. Even though they are all younger than me, when I saw the level of closeness and trust between the three of them, I saw what I had been missing. Candace made me want that—the connect. The commonality between us was something that was lacking in my previous friendships. For the first time since I moved here, the first time in the past ten years, I have people that I trust and care about.

It’s unfortunate when I think about it, but in a way, it’s Candace’s trauma that has bonded the four of us. I know we all love her in our own unique way, and at the root, there’s never been jealousy. Only three men that love this girl. And knowing that she has all of us gives me a level of security that I never expected to feel.

So we take this night, and like any family would, we laugh and eat cheap birthday cake straight from the box. Mom helps me clean up in the kitchen while Candace sits on the floor, cuddled into Jase, bantering back and forth with Mark, determined to get that plastic ring from him.

“I love her.”

I look at my mom when she says this to me as we load the dishwasher.

“She’s really something special,” she adds.

“Yeah, she is,” I agree as I watch her from across the room.

We finish up and wipe the counters down, and Candace asks as we walk back in, “Hey, you guys wanna watch a movie?”

“You all go ahead. I’m going to get some sleep so I’m rested for tomorrow,” my mom says.

Candace walks over and gives her a hug, saying, “Thanks again for coming, Donna.”

“How about we spend a little girl time tomorrow, just the two of us?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I love being ditched by the women in my life,” I tease as I step behind Candace and wrap my arms around her shoulders.

“I’m sure you can find something to busy yourself with,” my mom shoots back at me. “Good night, you two.”

“Let me help you get settled in,” I offer when she starts to head back to the guest bedroom. I stand there for a moment with Candace in my arms and then turn her around to face me. Tilting her head back to look up at me, I kiss her before saying, “Give me a couple of minutes.”

When I return, the lights are off, and the three of them have made a pile of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room with the fireplace going.

“You guys work fast,” I murmur as I lie down next to Candace and tuck her into me.

We watch ‘The Breakfast Club,’ and about halfway through, Jase and Mark call it a night and head out, leaving Candace and I alone for the first time tonight.

She rolls over in my arms and weaves her legs with mine.

“Thank you,” she says softly.

“For?”

“Your mom and the cake.”

I kiss her nose, and she smiles as I say, “Anytime.”

“I love you,” she says before she kisses me.

When our kisses turn into more, I stop and sit up. “Come on.” I grab her hand and tell her, “I want you in my bed, under my sheets,” before taking her upstairs.

As expected, the girls woke up this morning and went out for breakfast and shopping. I decided to take the time and work on the photos of Candace’s legs that I took the other day. I spent most of the morning in my office, working on the computer before going to the gym to grab a quick workout.

It’s a little after noon by the time they get back. When they walk through the door, their hands are full of shopping bags.

“Damn, that was a long breakfast,” I joke as I help them with their bags.

“Sorry, time got away from us. If I didn’t have to go home, I would have spent the whole day with her,” Mom says.

“Well, thanks for bringing her back. I’m sick of sharing her,” I tease as I wrap my arm around Candace.

Nudging me in the gut, she playfully scolds, “Ryan!”

“Sorry, babe, but it’s the truth,” I remark and then go in for a nibble on her neck.

“Okay, kids. I’ve seen enough. I’m going to go pack,” my mom says, heading down the hall.

“Ryan, that tickles,” she laughs, trying to squirm out of my arms. Picking her up, I haul her over to the couch where I lay her down and start planting soft kisses on her. “Did you have a good time this morning?” I ask between my nips and then lick the hollow of her neck.

“Uh huh.”

I continue to kiss her like this until she says, “Ryan, we should stop.”

“Why?”

“Because your mom is about to leave, and you should go spend a little time with her before she goes.”

Not wanting to stop, I let out a groan and tell her, “Okay, but I’m not done with you.”

Candace takes her shopping bags and goes upstairs while I check in with my mom.

“Did you two have fun?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed as she gets her things together to leave.

“We did. She took me over to the coffee shop where she works.”

“What did you guys talk about?”

“You’re nosey,” she quips, and I laugh at her, but she quickly straightens her face and comes to sit next to me on the bed. “She’s worried.”

“About what?” I ask.

“Have you given any thought to what’s going to happen after she graduates?”

“Yeah, Mom, I have. Is that what’s bothering her?”

“It would be odd if it weren’t. Isn’t it bothering you?” she questions.

“I try not to let it. But whatever happens, I’d never leave her.”

“Sometimes girls need a little extra reassurance,” she offers as she pats my knee and smiles.

I help my mom with her bag as I walk her out.

“Candace,” I call to her upstairs.

“Coming,” she responds, and as she’s walking down, I see the sadness creep across her face. She doesn’t say anything, going over to hug my mom. I feel bad as she starts to cry, knowing she wants to spend more time with her.

I reach out and place my hand on her back when she pulls away from the hug, and my mom says, “Come see me, okay?”

Candace nods her head, and I know that she hates the sound of her voice when she’s this upset, so she stays quiet as I wrap my arms around her from behind.

“When is your next break?”

“She has the last two weeks of this month off before her last quarter,” I answer for her so she doesn’t have to speak.

“You and Ryan come visit, okay?” she offers as she looks at her.

We say our goodbyes, and she leaves to drive back home. Turning Candace around, I hold her in my arms and give her a few minutes to just be sad. I’m grateful for the bond the two of them have forged, but I don’t like seeing my girl upset like this.

“You okay, babe?”

“I hate that she lives so far away,” she says as I wipe her face. “I really like having her around.”

“I know you do. We’ll go visit her when you’re on your break.”

She rests her head on my chest and sighs before saying, “My parents never even called me.” I grip the back of her head and hold her tight as she adds, “I mean . . . I knew they wouldn’t, but it still hurts.”

“I know it does.”

And this is the shit I hate. Thinking about her mom and dad, wondering how they could turn away from their daughter so easily. I know it’s possible because of my own dad, but thinking about everything Candace has gone through in the past several months cuts me deep, and all I want to do is protect her from anything that could hurt her.

“Come on, let’s go grab something to eat before we go to the campus,” I tell her and just hope to God that she got this solo because I don’t want to see how upset she’ll be if she didn’t.

Seeing the look on her face was priceless. She was shocked and giddy and couldn’t control her enthusiasm when she jumped into my arms, squealing. She got her solo, and I couldn’t have been more proud. This girl works her ass off, but it got me thinking more about what my mom said. I’m not ignorant of the fact that Candace will probably get a job that requires her to move. I’ve been taking a lot of time away from the bar these past few weeks, and I need to start considering what her moving means for me and my business.

When I walk into the bedroom, I notice that the door to the bathroom is cracked open. Slowly opening the door wider, I see her standing there in my boxers and a tank top, finishing up brushing her teeth. It’s been a long day, and she’s been through a string of emotions since this morning. I walk up from behind and slip my arms around her as I drop a few kisses along the curve of her bare shoulder. She holds on to my arms with her hands as we watch each other in the mirror.

She turns around, and I lift her up onto the edge of the sink and look down at her; she has a peaceful look about her tonight.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” I tell her, and my words make her laugh as I lower my mouth to hers.

Sliding my tongue past her lips, she hooks her ankles behind my waist, burying her hands in my hair. Her touch excites me but in a soothing way. I pick her up, walk her across the room, and fall into bed with her. I stare down, and I know, that no matter what happens, she has me. I don’t want to belong to anyone but her.

She runs her hands up my chest and around to the back of my neck, pulling me down, and we kiss. We kiss in a way that’s different than all the times before. I can’t explain it, but it takes over me, holding a new level of passion. I press her firmly to me, tasting the mint that still lingers in her mouth.

Lifting her back off the bed, I sit her up and watch her as she removes her top. I get caught up in her and press her back down onto the bed, situating my hips between her legs. She’s so warm against me, and my chest begins to tighten with the effect this girl has on me.

I never gave my heart to anyone before. I never wanted to. I was scared. But maybe I was just saving it for her. And now, I want to give this girl more than my heart. I want to give her everything.

Realizing that I’m getting too carried away with myself, I pull back, nearly panting, “We should stop,” as I rest my forehead on her sternum.

She runs her hands through my hair, whispering, “Don’t.”

Her words are unexpected, so I pull up to look over her face, to try and read what she’s thinking.

“Babe,” I breathe out, heavy.

She looks me straight in the eyes and tells me, “I don’t want you to stop.”

“I need you to talk to me,” I respond with nerves coursing through me, unsure of what to do here.

“I don’t want to stop tonight.”

Fear. That’s what comes over me when I hear her words. Closing my eyes, I drop my head to hers. My heart is racing when I urge, “Please tell me this is okay,” because the thought of this scares me.

She nods her head against mine, but it isn’t enough. “I need to hear you say it, babe.”

I finally open my eyes when she cups my face and assures me, “It’s okay. I want this, with you, I just . . . I don’t know if I can.”

But suddenly, I don’t know if I can. I want to. I’ve wanted to since I met her, but now . . . now I’m afraid, and I don’t know what to do with her. I’m not sure if she sees my panic when she takes my hand in hers and places it over her breast, urging quietly, “Just touch me.”

Her hand trembles against mine, and if this does happen, I can’t have her feeling like this. So I do everything I can to push my anxiety away to focus on making sure she’s relaxed. She’s been taken advantage of by the two people before me, and I want to make this perfect for her.

I lower myself and kiss her. I take my time and really kiss her. Pressing my lips slowly into hers, grazing my tongue along her lip, and sealing my mouth with hers. My hand slides up from her breast and underneath the strap on her shoulder. As I move my hand down her arm, I take the strap with it, slipping it off, feeling the tension in the elastic releasing.

She’s never let me see her naked. The closest, a bra and my boxers. So when I begin to reach around her, my anticipation is overwhelming. But then, in a moment, she nervously mutters, “I’m scared. I’ve never . . .”

“It’s just you and me,” I tell her. “You’re all I’ll ever want.”

She faintly nods, and when I unclasp the hooks behind her back, she crosses her arm over her chest. Laying my hand over hers, I lift it up and drop her bra to the floor. I look at her. I’ve always wanted to but she’s always been too shy. Then my eyes stop on a serrated, crescent scar on her left breast, and what I think it might be is confirmed when she shamefully bares, “He bit me.”

I won’t let that piece of shit filter into this moment. She’s embarrassed, and there’s no fuckin’ way I’m gonna let that bastard claim another piece of her. Even with this scar, he can’t take away from how gorgeous she is.

Leaning down, I kiss her scar and breathe into her skin, “God, you’re perfect.”

I take my kisses and drop them down her stomach before sitting back on my heels to remind her that she isn’t alone. I bring her hand to my ribs and over my scar. We don’t speak. There’s no need. She gets it when she brushes her thumb across the jagged line and then pulls me down to her, hands trussed in my hair.

The feel of her naked body against my chest is gratifying beyond words. With no barriers, I run my tongue up the smooth skin of her breast and slowly across her pert nipple before taking her into my mouth. The pressure of her fingertips pressing into my shoulders strengthens when my hands find themselves at the band of her shorts. She lifts her hips when I begin to remove her boxers and panties at the same time. God, every inch of her is stunning, and I suddenly feel undeserving to have this girl who is far above what I could have ever imagined for myself.

She watches as I slip off my pants and then lower myself back to her, grabbing the sheets and covering us up. I lie here naked with her and have never felt so connected. She’s warm against me, but as I trail my hands slowly along her soft skin, I can feel her trembling.

“Babe, you’re shaking.”

“What if I can’t do this?” she says with an uneven voice, worry etched in the lines of her face.

“Then we stop.”

Her eyes fall shut, and I assure her, “We’ll move as slow as you need. You just tell me when to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” she says, opening her eyes.

She slides her arms around me and draws my body back to hers as she kisses me, caressing her lips with mine, taking her time as she runs her hands along my chest and down my abdomen, making my muscles cinch at the touch. Her lips drag along my neck and down my shoulder while I gently knead her supple breast in my hand and kiss her exposed neck. When my mouth finds her hardened nipple again, I roll my tongue over it and begin to gently suck, her body writhing in response.

“Ryan.” The sound of my name on her lips is sexy as hell, and I need her to tell me again before we move any further, so I ask, “You sure?”

“Yes.”

My anxiety is back. The rush of emotions swarms in my chest as I try to stay calm for her, but I just need to hear it. “Tell me that you want this, that you want me.”

“I want you to make love to me,” she says with her eyes pinned to mine.

I take a moment to slip on protection before I reach down and slowly begin to guide myself inside of her, but as soon as I touch her, she locks up on me. Pulling myself back, I look down to see the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“Are you okay?”

Holding on to my shoulders, she nods. “Yeah.”

I’ve never been so scared to have sex, but I know with her, that’s not what this is. I’ve never been with a woman like this before. I know I’m gonna make love with her, and I want to do everything possible to make this perfect. ‘Cause for the first time in my life, this isn’t about me—it’s about her. So when I continue to push myself inside of her, I can feel every bit of how tense she is. It takes me a while, but when I’m finally inside of her, the feeling is almost too much for me. My head drops to her neck as I moan, “Fuck, you feel so good, babe,” unable to keep it in.

I hold myself still while her thighs tremble as she clenches them against my hips. I wrap my hands around her head and give her time to relax. When I pull my head back, I immediately feel like shit when I see her eyes clamped shut with tears falling down her temples.

“Open your eyes, Candace. Look at me,” I tell her, concerned about what she’s seeing if she isn’t seeing me.

“Don’t make me look,” she pleads, but I need her to. I need her to not be scared of this. To not let her mind drift to that alley. To show her that this can be something amazing.

“Baby, please open your eyes. I need you here with me. It’s only me.”

It takes her a second, but she eventually opens them and focuses on me. When I feel her body soften against mine, I gradually begin to move. Being this close with her—inside of her—I never want this to end. I can’t even imagine wanting to be selfish with her, so I move slowly, needing this closeness to last. To make her see this for what it is—love.

Banding my arms around her, she clings to me, and the sounds of pleasure coming out of her are all I hear. Sighs, breaths, quiet moans. They turn me on even more as our bodies begin to work together, moving in a way I know I’ll always want with her.

“God, I love you,” I release on a ragged exhale and slide deeper inside of her.

Moving to kiss me, she mumbles over my lips, “I love you.”

I notice her hands are still clenching my shoulders, so I reach up and take one of her hands in mine, lacing my fingers with hers, pressing our hands into the mattress. She begins to sway her hips up to mine as she starts moving with me. Her body is so tight around me that it takes a lot for me to hang on and not let go. I watch her beneath me, her body against mine, completely exposed to me, and I don’t think I could fall any more deeply in love with her. I’m not sure how that would even be possible.

We take our time with each other, making love, lingering in the moment. When she closes her eyes, she constricts her legs to my hips, and I know she’s close. I also know that she’s never had this before.

“Relax, babe,” I tell her because I want her to feel every piece of what I’m about to give her.

She has her hand braced tightly around the back of my neck when her breathing falters. I kiss her, simply resting my lips on hers, as I continue to ease myself in and out of her, feeling every part of her around me. Her hand jerks in mine, and I lift my head to tell her, “Open your eyes. Stay with me,” wanting to be sure that I’m all she sees.

Locking her eyes with mine, her body is damp with a sheen of sweat, and I give in to the intensity that has been building inside of me when I hear her let out a whimper. It doesn’t take me long to get to where she is, so when I say, “Baby, let go for me,” her hips buckle, and she clamps her hand strongly around mine as I watch her lose herself, face flushed, panting out soft moans. I can’t hold on when I feel her walls tighten and spasm around me. Dropping my head onto hers, I moan her name as I come hard, feeling the impassioned throbs with my release, giving myself in a way I didn’t know was possible for me.

We lie here, bodies pressed together, breathing labored, as we both come down. When I finally lift my heavy head to look at her, the tears are back. Afraid that this has had some negative effect on her, I ask in utter worry, “God, baby, what’s wrong?” as I wipe her tears.

She takes a slow moment before giving me words that almost break me.

“Being with you . . . that’s all I want.”

This is a lot. My emotions are all over the place, but they all lie within her heart. I keep myself inside of her, never wanting to leave, and when I lay my head against hers, I quietly confess, “You’re the only one I’ve ever done that with. You’re the only one I’ve ever made love to.”

I didn’t think there was anything I could give her that would be new, untouched, and only hers—until now. She’s the only one that will ever have me like this. And finally experiencing sex in this way, I’ll never want it any other way.