“I promise. But Madelyn?”
“Yes?”
“Who’s strong enough, smart enough, loving enough to protect me from you?”
34
Madelyn
Home. It’s been a long time since I’ve been home. That trailer in Shelby was never such a place. Before that, the happy house I’d been raised in seemed to fade into one filled with sadness and pain. San Diego . . . hotels and motels . . . The Ranch. Yeah, home’s become an elusive thing.
I remind myself it hasn’t always been so. Like Mama’s afghan, my younger self had been snuggled within the warm embrace of our tight-knit family. Cherished. Loved. Grounded like one of the one-hundred-year-old trees lining Main Street. Corny as it might sound, home was always where my heart rests.
Now my heart’s gone from Shelby like one of her glorious sunsets.
Kylie’s fled, yet a small piece of her will always be with me. It was inevitable we’d part. Hell, before the chaos that erupted within our lives, we always knew we were destined for different places, different lives, different loves. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss her.
And . . . I’m not alone. Declan’s here with me.
But for how long?
We’ve arrived at in a house located a few blocks away from the beach.
“You coming?” he asks, keys in one hand. With the other, he grabs my own and leads me to the front door.
“Do I dare ask whose house this is?” I murmur.
He abruptly stops and pulls me into his arms. I sigh and soften against him.
“Once I square things away with Hayden, I’ll take you wherever you’d like to be,” he tells me. “As long as it’s safe . . .” he adds softly, his chest rumbling beneath my cheek.
“I want to be anywhere you are but hopefully by the water.”
He chuckles. “You’re in luck.”
“I am?”
“I own this place.”
“You do?” I glance at the house and back at him. Disbelieving. The place is a postcard picture of femininity. With its white lattice porch, dainty arched windows, its mint-green siding with pink—yep, pink—shutters.
“Yep.”
My throat hitches.
“Bought it over a year ago. Just needed a reason to come home.”
He’s taken me home.
To his house.
He gives me a brief tour. Most rooms are unfurnished. Except for the big bed inside the master bedroom, a lone sofa still in its original plastic, and a new coffeepot on the kitchen counter. That nesting urge—the one dormant during my temporary stay at Happy Times—rises within me. Two matching chairs and a coffee table. A nice throw rug over the hardwood floors. A picture of a sandy beach over the fireplace mantel. A woman’s touch.
I grin.
Can’t have a heavy-handed man like Declan ruining the comfortable vibe of the place, now can we?
“You like it?” Oh my God. He looks so uncomfortable, like he’s asking me out on a first date or nervously thinking about landing his first kiss.
“I love it.”
“Good.”
Crickets. But this time around, the silence speaks. There’s this vulnerability to him that tugs at my heartstrings. I’m the one in the driver’s seat now. I have the power to hurt him.
So I do what I excel at. Digging deep, I shake off my fears, my worries, my pain. And I dive right in, headfirst.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and arch up into him. His lips are powerful, his tongue entwining with mine until my worries are replaced by hope. A rush of sensation sweeps over me. Lust. Need. Love.
He pulls back. “I’ll be gone in a few days. Back to the Ranch, then God knows where. I don’t have a choice. It’s make amends with Hayden or pay the consequences.”
“Why bring me here?”
There he goes, giving me that awkward, heartbreakingly vulnerable look before he leans in and presses his lips to mine in a gentle kiss. “The moment I saw you, I knew you belonged here. In this pretty house, a picture of pureness, sweetness, a home that represents all that I never had and everything I’m not. You belong here. With me.”
My throat hitches. I’m speechless. From the moment I saw you . . . he’s loved me all this time?
I slide out of his arms to stand. Slowly, I unbutton the buttons on my blouse until it falls open. Reaching behind me, I unhook my bra and, wiggling my shoulders, allow both to fall around my ankles.
Declan hisses.
I grin. “I’m going to make love to you once more. Gently. Sweetly. Until you’re begging me for more. Now take off your pants.”
His eyebrows arch at my firm order. But he stands and does as directed, his erection springing free.
I kick off my sandals and wiggle free of my shorts and underwear.
He tears his shirt up and over his head.
Gentle and sweet? Well, he’ll learn with time. I take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. “Lie down on your side, facing me,” I say.
He does as I ask. I grin, knowing how hard it is for him to give me full control.
I crawl into bed and snuggle up beside him. My thighs touching his, my chest pressed against his own. Then I touch him, caressing his cheeks with my fingers, his forehead, nose, and lips. Over his earlobes and down along his neck.
I finger his nipples, laughing as they pebble up.
All the while, he watches me, his face expressionless.
What did I expect? The man’s a hard nut to crack.
I take his hand and press it against my left breast. “Touch me. Feel me.”
Something flashes across his eyes. Like a jolt of lightning, forceful and breathtaking, then gone in a blink.
I lean in and kiss him. Probing his mouth with my tongue. Softly. With tenderness and compassion. It’s a wet kiss that goes on and on. Until he rolls, pushing me down into the mattress and deepening the kiss. Softly. With tenderness and love.
I move beneath him and part my thighs. Then wrap my fingers around his hot erection and guide him home.
When his thick tip parts my folds, I break away enough to whisper. “Slide inside me slowly so I can feel every inch of you. I’ll take over afterward.”
“Fuck, Madelyn,” he murmurs against my lips. I cut off whatever else he’s about to say with another kiss.
Patiently, I wait. Until I feel him move, the delicious girth of him filling my channel inch by blessed inch.
He groans. His arms shake. He demands more with his tongue, which plunges and twirls inside my mouth, mating with my tongue, taking whatever he needs.
It feels like eternity until he’s fully seated inside me.
I pull my head away.
His eyes open and we connect.
I arch my hips slightly, then push my bottom back into the mattress. Feeling our joining, the connection of our bodies. Our souls.
Rocking back and forth, back and forth, I take it slow. Watching the green depths of his eyes glaze over.
Back and forth until we’re both shaking, the sensation is that sweet.
His palms cup my face. “I want to watch you as you come.”
My thoughts exactly.
“Now, Madelyn. Right now.”
He lifts his hips and with a slowness that has me moaning with pleasure and seeing stars, he withdraws. Hissing and moaning and shaking all the way.