Текст книги "Love Unspoken "

Автор книги: Lisa DeJong

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“BABE, CAN YOU GET me some more milk?”

I roll out of bed, my eyes barely open as I walk down the stairs. Saturday is my day to sleep in, but it rarely works out that way.

Blake gets up when she starts to cry. His big feet creak along the steps. He inevitably drops something on the floor while trying to make a bottle. Then, the stairs creak again. He fumbles with her diaper while she shows off her little lungs.

Then comes the part I like—where he hums the “ABC’s” and “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.” I could listen to him forever. He’s the best daddy. I have one lucky little girl. She’s quiet for maybe fifteen minutes then she screams again.

“Coming!” I yell back, feeling the cold hardwoods against my feet. The house is still dark, the sky purple with a hint of orange in the horizon.

It’s only been three months, but I can make a bottle like it’s no one’s business. I trudge up to her room, handing it to him quickly before she sees me; it’s all over then.

He whispers, “Thank you.”

I crawl back into my comfortable bed.

Just as I start to drift off, the bed dips and his strong arm wraps around my waist pulling me close to his bare chest. I pretend to sleep because I want to. I’d do just about anything for six hours of straight sleep.

“You awake?” he says quietly. I think he can tell I’m not by the way I breathe.

“You know I am.”

His hand snakes its way under my sleep shirt, the backs of his fingers brushing against my stomach while his lips whisper against the back of my neck. “Lay on your stomach, baby.”

I do as he asks, smiling while I think about last Saturday. It went a lot like this and then she woke before I was able to find out how it was all going to end.

My shirt goes all the way up as he straddles my hips.

His fingers run along my spine to my shoulders then down my sides. He does it over and over, and eventually he presses for more, skimming his fingers along the sides of my breasts. He’s an expert—he knows just how to get me.

His body covers mines, lips blazing a hot trail from one side to the other. “Did I tell you you’re beautiful yet this morning?”

“Not yet,” I moan.

“Did I tell you I love you?”

“No.”

“Did I tell you I’d be yours forever?”

I shake my head against the pillow, unable to speak.

“I love you forever, beautiful.”

His marriage vows—he honors them every single day.

His lips trail down my back.

I remember the crisp fall day three months after he proposed—when I first saw him standing in his suit coat by the creek.

His thumbs slip inside the edge of my panties, pulling them down carefully as he kisses the backs of my thighs.

I remember all the promises he made. The promises I made him.

By the time he reaches my feet, all I remember is the way he kissed me in front of our close friends and family. It was a small wedding, but perfect for us.

He kisses his way back up, subtly slipping his fingers between my legs as he does. He knows exactly what to do, not that he has to try too hard.

“I’ll never tire of this body. You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says, his lips brushing against my ear. Then, in one quick motion he’s inside me. He holds there until I adjust to him.

He pulls out then fills me again.

“Blake,” I moan. “Don’t stop.”

This is the part we didn’t get to before Belle woke up last weekend. It’s been a few stolen showers here and there, but foreplay has all but become extinct.

“On your knees,” he instructs, tugging my hair back. The mix of sensations is all I need before the first orgasm ricochets through my body. He grunts as I pulse around him, but he’s not done yet … not even close.

There’s no time to come off the high. His thumb moves over the bumps on my spine until there are no more. “Turn around, baby.”

I do, laid out naked in front of him, drenched in sex. Desire is wanting a man after only three hours of sleep. I give up sleep for sex … just for him.

He crawls up my body, lapping his tongue around my nipples then up the line of my throat. “How do you want me?”

“I just want you,” I answer back with no hesitation. Our relationship is give and take, but mostly, I take what he’ll give me.

Without another word, he sinks back into me, burying his head in the crook of my neck. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too,” I answer back, struggling to catch my breath.

His pace picks up then slows.

My heart beats rapidly.

He pulls all the way out then thrusts in.

My body is wound. So much tension I can barely stand it, yet it’s the moment I love the most. I want to hold on to it, but he knows how to break the euphoric spell.

Two more thrusts, and I’m done. I’m his.

He groans, biting into my collarbone to mask his screams.

“I’ll never tire of you,” he mumbles, barely able to breathe. His chin rests on my chest, his eyes staring into mine. The sun comes up, shining through our thin white curtains giving me a glimpse of everything I love about this man—his deep blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and that dimple … I freaking love that dimple.

“You better not.”

“Every day, I fall more in love with you, so I don’t see how it would be possible.”

I brush my fingers through his hair. “I like hearing that.”

He scoots up, kissing my lips. “I like saying it.”

This.

Is.

Bliss.

There’s nothing better for our relationship than being alone like this.

Then, just like clockwork, Belle starts to cry. I’m reminded how much our life has changed. We used to hold each other for hours after sex, talking or sleeping. Now, a new kind of bliss is just in the next room.

“I’ll get her.” He smiles down at me. “Mallory will be here in a couple hours. Why don’t you shower, and I’ll drive into Omaha to get her.”

“Awe, I get to shower today?” I tease. It was a little rough in the beginning but things are falling into place. It’s also easier since we both work from home.

“You better. You smell like sex.”

“It’s become my favorite perfume since I get to wear it less often and all.”

He climbs from the bed, throwing on his T-shirt and shorts. “I take that as a challenge, Mrs. Stone. I hope you’re not a big fan of sleep because between baby duty and perfume trials, you won’t be getting much.” His last words trail off as he heads into the bathroom to wash his hands.

“I don’t think you have the sales skills to talk me into participating in your trial,” I say as he walks back through the bedroom to get Belle from her crib.

I hear him laugh. I am so in trouble; he’s not going to let me sleep for a week.

With Blake in the driver’s seat, I shower and actually take the time to blow dry my hair. Mallory hasn’t been here since right after Belle was born. Most of the weight I gained is gone, but my hair has been in a permanent messy bun, and I couldn’t tell you where my make-up bag is.

“Babe, are you about done? I have to leave in ten minutes!” Blake yells from downstairs.

“Coming!” I yell, pulling on a simple blue maxi dress and matching flip-flops.

“Not now, but you will be later!” he hollers back. I’m definitely going to pay for the perfume comment.

When I come down the stairs, he’s sitting on the couch, knees raised, with Belle perched on his legs. I could honestly watch the two of them together forever and never get bored.

And when Belle sees me, her whole face lights up. No one rocks a toothless smile like our little Isabelle.

I take her from his lap, wrapping her in my arms. “How’s Mommy’s little girl?”

She coos.

My heart melts.

Blake stands, kissing Belle’s cheek then mine. “I better get going.”

“Can you pick up Starbucks while you’re in town?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” he says before walking out the door.

If I’ve learned anything since we’ve moved here, it’s that love has a rhythm. Or, to be more specific, two people in love should live in the same rhythm. You don’t have to be alike; I’m a clarinet, he’s a drum, but we’re playing the same song.

I want a happy marriage—one that others look at from the outside and envy. He grants that dream every day without even trying.

I want Belle to have the best of everything yet still realize that life isn’t perfect. He supports that.

He wants to continue his career, which requires traveling from time to time. I want that for him because it’s what makes him happy.

He needs to kiss me, or touch me in some way at least ten times a day to make sure I’m still here. I’m more than okay with that, too.

Even now, it’s only been a few minutes, and I miss him. When you find something so perfect, you never want to let it go.

I prepare a bottle for Belle and rock her while staring out the living room window. A few vehicles go by, but other than that it’s miles of peaceful farmland. Moving here was the best thing we ever did.

My sweet girl falls asleep on my shoulder after her stomach is full. I’m content staying like this, switching between looking out the window and reading the latest news on my phone.

Before long, Frank pulls in the driveway, and it takes everything I have not to jump up from the chair. Even though Mallory and I talk every day, I miss her.

The second the front door creaks open, Belle is awake. I don’t get how she does that so quickly.

“How is my girl?” Mallory says, dropping her bag and going right for Belle. That’s the other thing about babies—once you have them, you’re always in second place.

Blake is beside her making sure she’s holding Belle just right. The amount of love he has for our little girl makes my heart explode. “You don’t have hold her head like that anymore,” he remarks.

Mallory rolls her eyes. “It’s not going to hurt her, Blake.”

“And she just ate, so she’s probably going to poop. Don’t know how well that white cashmere sweater of yours is going to hold up,” he teases.

“She’s worth it,” Mallory shoots back.

“Did you happen to get coffee?” I ask Blake, noticing his hands are empty.

“Shit! I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Blake Stone, watch your mouth. It won’t be long, and this little one will be talking,” Mallory says, taking the words right out of my mouth.

“It’s not a big deal. I can make some.”

Blake cringes. “I used the last of the grounds yesterday. Why don’t I run to Starbucks and get you both a latte, and I’ll pick up more grounds while I’m at it.”

“Yes, please,” Mallory says before I get a chance to respond. “Do you know how early I had to get on that plane this morning?”

I want to make a smart comment about how I spent my morning, but I don’t. It’s a weird line to cross when you’re married to your best friend’s brother.

He grabs his keys, kissing me yet again. “Be back in a few.”

“Love you,” I whisper.

“Love you more,” he says back, kissing my forehead. I can’t help but watch him walk away. He is all kinds of perfect for me.

Mallory doesn’t waste a second after the door shuts behind him. “Have you talked to Reece this week?”

I nod. She calls me almost every other day on her lunch break … the time we used to spend together. Not long after Blake and I moved here, Reece became Mallory’s new roommate. They’re opposites, but it seems to be working out okay.

“Big Bang is practically living with us now. I swear, and they’re so freaking cute together. A hundred bucks says they’re married by this time next Christmas.”

“His name is Dylan,” I remind her.

She waves me off. “We call him Big Bang all the time. It’s no big deal. Besides, it sure sounds like he lives up to the name.”

“She deserves it. Speaking of which, isn’t it about time you found a man? You’ve been back in the states for almost a year.”

She smiles shyly, biting her lower lip. “I’ve been seeing someone actually.”

“Did you meet him at work?”

“Umm, no, not really, but it’s someone you know.”

“Who?”

Words Unspoken, a spinoff novella coming Winter 2016.

Also, keep reading for the first two chapters of Break Even, a standalone adult contemporary novel releasing December 2015. It’s an atypical love story with a dose of suspense.

BREAK EVEN

Sneak Preview

Chapter 1

“COLE!” I SCREAM, curling my fingers around the edge of the counter. He pulls out slowly then thrusts back inside; there’s nothing soft and tender about it.

During the first couple years of our marriage he made love to me. His lips would brush against my skin from head to toe and his hands would caress my inner thighs until I ached for him to be inside of me.

He’d tease.

He had me gasping for breath before he even reached where I needed it the most.

He knew exactly how I liked it; it was insane bliss. It was the reason I sped home from work every night. It was one of the reasons I knew he was the one—our maddening physical connection translated into every aspect of our relationship. Every last inch of me was wrapped around him. Everything.

He pushes in again until it aches, burying his head deep in the crook of my neck.

“Don’t stop,” I moan, slipping my fingers between us. I need to come so badly. Three weeks and four days… that’s how long it’s been.

Sex isn’t about me lately, and it hasn’t been for a while.

His teeth dig into my skin. “I can’t stop myself, baby. You feel so good.”

“Cole, please,” I beg, rubbing my fingers in circles. If he notices, he doesn’t acknowledge my need.

He thrusts all the way in. “Christ, Marley,” he murmurs against my skin as he releases into me. My heart sinks, but my desire is stuck at an all time high.

My orgasms have become as rare as a full moon. In less than an hour, it will be three weeks and five days since I last felt what it was like to clench around him over and over again.

My breathing is heavy. My fingers still. His head still pressed against my neck as his fingers run gently along my spine.

“Did I hurt you?” he whispers against my skin.

Not the way you’re thinking.

“I’m good,” I lie, leaning in to kiss his shoulder.

He cups my ass, sliding me off the counter. His hooded eyes stare deep into mine. That look he had on the day we said I do…I still see it there. It hasn’t disappeared completely, but the way he shows it has. How do I get that back?

He leans in, kissing the tip of my nose and each corner of my mouth followed by a simple peck on my lips.

“I love you,” he says softly, pulling away.

“I love you more.” I’ve said it for years, but lately I’ve wondered how much I believe it.

“Not possible.”

He slips the strap of my nightie back over my shoulder and adjusts his boxer briefs so we’re both covered. “I have to go out of town for a few days. I know I promised no more trips this month, but I—”

“You have a client that needs help on an emergency case,” I interrupt, wanting so badly to turn and walk out of the room. It’s the same excuse over and over again.

He cups my cheeks in his warm hands. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“But this week—” I hold back the tears.

“I know. I tried to get out of it, but I’m the only one who has direct knowledge of this case.” The pads of his thumbs brush the puffy circles under my eyes. He should be the one to take them away since he put them there.

“What day?” he asks when I don’t speak up.

“Thursday,” I choke, my lower lip quivering. Seven months is a long time to wait to get pregnant, and it doesn’t help that my husband never seems to be around when I need him.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll happen after tonight,” he says, pulling me in close to his warm body.

Pressing my palms to his chest, I try to put as much distance between us as possible.

“That’s three days, Cole. You promised—” He wraps his arms around me tighter, making it impossible to escape.

“I promise,” he whispers against my ear. “I promise if it doesn’t happen for us this month, I’ll be here next month. I know how much this means to you.” I choke down the tears that threaten to carve a path down my cheeks.

“Do you?” His grip loosens just enough he can stare down into my eyes.

“I want it to. If you don’t believe that then why are we even standing here talking about this?” I shrug in response, unable to find the right words. I don’t even know where to start, but this was not the way I pictured our night going.

He leans in to kiss my lips. “I’ll think about you every second I’m gone.”

I doubt that too.

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed? I have a quick phone call to make then I’ll join you.”

Without another word, I slip out from between him and the counter. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I curl up on my side of the bed fully aware I’ll drift off to sleep before he makes it to bed. To have and to hold doesn’t hold much weight for him. Not like it used to.

“You going to miss me?” he asks me the next morning. His arms wrap around me while I pour my first cup of coffee.

“I always do,” I reply honestly, resting my hand over his.

“I have a meeting scheduled at the office today that I need you to take care of for me. New client.”

“Give me a thirty second brief,” I say as his lips press into the curve of my neck.

“I don’t know too much about him yet. Beatrice tells me that he’s in town trying to close a deal on a vacant building downtown for some new restaurant nightclub venture. She told him I’d be out of town, but that my wife was more than capable of handling it.” He pauses and retracts. “Actually, the way she put it was ‘even more capable of handling it’. I don’t know what kind of bribes you’ve been throwing her behind my back, but they’re clearly working,” he teases, as his warm lips begin trailing up my neck.

His hands splay against my flat stomach then slowly skim down, gripping the bottom of my long, white t-shirt. The cotton brushes against my thighs until his hands find my bare ass, kneading it with the palms of his hands. “Maybe we can make a baby right now…before I go,” he whispers against my earlobe.

His hands move around to my stomach, traveling up to my exposed breasts. I gasp as he pinches my nipples between his fingers.

“Let go, baby,” he demands, pressing me forward until my cheek is pressed against the cold granite. My panties are yanked to my knees when I hear the sound of his zipper. Without hesitation he’s inside of me, pumping in and out with caveman-like vigor.

I want to touch him, to kiss him, to make love the way we used to; but this is it. This is how four years of marriage has been defined for us.

“Are you going to miss me, baby?” he asks, pulling on my ponytail. The sensation. The tingle. It’s almost enough to send me over the elusive edge.

“Yes!” I scream, barely able to catch my breath. “Touch me, Cole. I need you to touch me.”

His warm lips draw an invisible map down my back. “How do you want me to touch you, hmm? Tell me.”

“I want to come. Please make me come.” He finds the swollen spot between my legs, gently rubbing small circles as the pace of his thrusts quicken. It’s become a race of who will get there first. He speeds up once again, and I know he’s close.

He thrusts. The pressure inside of me builds.

I close my eyes tightly doing my best to stay in the moment—to think about nothing but the way he fills me. I imagine him shirtless and pinning me against the wall with his strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I imagine us in bed; his fully naked body covering mine in a continuous rhythm.

I’m on the verge of ultimate euphoria, but he’s so much closer. With one final deep thrust, he let’s go grunting behind me as his hand presses into my back. His fingers slip from between my legs and I wince.

Does he know what he’s doing to me? Or not doing?

“I better get going,” he says as he helps me up from the counter.

“Yeah, you better,” I answer, doing everything I can to not look him in the eyes. He’ll read me like a simple children’s book, and we don’t have time to sift through the disaster we’ve become before he jets off on his next trip. He brushes my hair away from my shoulder and kisses the back of my neck.

“I need to get ready for work,” I announce, glancing over at the clock on the microwave.

He spins me in his arms, giving me no choice but to look at him. If he sees sadness in my eyes, he doesn’t acknowledge it. He grips my hips, pulling me in for one last lingering kiss. I wish he touched me like this all the time … with this much emotion.

“See you Thursday, baby.” I pull my lips into a smile, albeit forced.

“Behave yourself,” I warn him.

“It’s not me we have to worry about.” He winks, loosening his grip on me.

“Besides wine with the girls tonight, I’ll be curled on the couch watching true crime television. I’ll then lie in bed with your old wooden bat while I imagine every little sound is a masked intruder that has come to drown me or chop me into tiny little pieces.”

He laughs. “Lock the door and set the security system. You’ll be fine.” He looks down at his watch. “Okay, now I really need to go, or I’m going to miss my flight.”

“Be safe,” I say, standing on my tiptoes to kiss the tip of his nose.

“Bye, babe.”

“Bye, Cole.”

I watch his strong suited body retreat and walk out the front door as I fold my arms over my stomach. Can our marriage even handle a baby right now?