I Speak...Love (A Different Road #3) (24 page)

“Sweetness, you need to give me that condom,” I beg, as her lips connect with my neck.

She backs away with that cocky grin, then removes the condom from her bra. She rips it open with her teeth, slides herself against me one last time, then reaches down and rolls it on. Her lip quirks up on the left side of her face, then she turns around in my lap giving me a full view of her perfect ass, and her breathtaking tattoo. She places her knees on either side of my thighs, then she reaches between her legs, takes me in her hand, and I watch totally spellbound as I slowly disappear inside her. She rocks several times into me, then I reach for the clasp on her bra and unhook it. It quickly snaps open, revealing a sexy spray of golden freckles. I reach around the front of her and finger her clit as she pounds against my thighs. Her gasps and sweet moans fill the room. The straps of her bra fall down her arms as she continues to moan with pleasure. With my other hand, I place it on her hipbone to help steady her rhythm as she explodes on my fingers.

Her mews and gasps of pleasure echo against the walls as her insides grip around my dick. She continues up and down as she slowly comes down from her high, then she moves from her knees and crouches on her feet. She turns her head to look at me, then she slams down on top of me.

“Oh, God!” I moan as her ass cheeks crack against my thighs.

She slams down a few more times, and with that, I jerk inside of her and come hard. I sit up and wrap my arm around her waist, seating her firmly in my lap. Her chest heaves in my hold with each breath she takes. She slightly turns her body around and looks at me, then she glances at the clock on the nightstand.

She squirms her ass in my lap, then says, “We should get back downstairs.”

Stephen dresses in a black t-shirt and a faded pair of soft blue jeans. He runs his hand through his sexy, disheveled hair, then he picks up the condom wrapper from the floor and shoves it in his pocket. The bag I brought over the other day with some extra clothes in it is now sitting on the overstuffed chair in the corner of his room. Stephen sits down on the bed, rests his foot on the edge of the mattress, and laces up his black chucks as he watches me walk to the chair in my underwear. I pull out a V-neck t-shirt and slip it on over my head. I pull my long hair out from underneath the shirt, then I remove my jeans, and slip them on one leg at a time. I hop up and down a few times until they’re up over my hips, then I button and zip them up. I decide to go barefoot since we’ll be outside at the grill.

I love Stephen’s backyard. It’s like a little slice of paradise. I thought the first time I saw River’s backyard that it was the most beautiful retreat I’ve ever seen, but Stephen’s backyard is magnificent. River’s house butts up to the ocean. Therefore, he doesn’t have any grass in his backyard only sand. Stephen’s backyard was designed by his mother and looks like it was ripped right out of the backyard of an Italian villa. Immediately off the back door is a patio with large slate tile and a large rectangular pool. Lining one whole side of the pool are heavy, dark wooden chez lounge chairs with thick cream colored padded cushions. Tall pots with topiaries are speckled amongst the lush greenery. A heavy wooden table that seats twelve sits under a terraced pergola lined with sweet smelling lilacs. A heavy grapevine chandelier hangs from the center of the pergola and large gas powered torches are strategically placed all over the grounds. Beyond the pool is a lush green area surrounded by different themed gardens. Off the back entrance of the house sits a small cottage type building that is now vacant but was once a beautiful guesthouse.

“I love when you do that,” Stephen says, breaking me out of thought.

“You love when I do what?” I ask confused.

“Get lost in thought. I love to watch your thoughts race around in your eyes,” he says.

I smile at him embarrassed, then I walk toward the door, but he stops me when he says, “You forgot something.”

I pat my chest. Nope, bra strap under my shirt . . . check. I pat my hips. Nope, pants check, I look down at my bare feet . . . nope, they’re good, then I look at Stephen confused.

“I think I’ve got everything,” I tell him.

“Nope, you forgot something under your bag.

I look at my bag, then back at Stephen, and I immediately know he’s up to something. Every couple of days or so Stephen does something nice for me. Last week he bought me a new yoga mat because my other one was worn and on the thin side. He took a pair of scissors and cut the tiniest slit in one of the corners and said I couldn’t say a word about accepting it because it was broken. Yesterday he got me a digital pocket thermometer for work because my other one was cracked, and I couldn’t read the temperature accurately. He ripped off the doohickey thing that makes it hang on the pocket.

“Stephen, we’ve yet to discuss the camera sitting on your counter,” I warn, jokingly.

His face quickly morphs into a goofy grin like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. I walk over to my bag and lift it up. Sitting side by side is my very own pair of black chucks. I toss my bag on the floor, grab the shoes, and give a little squeal. And just like my camera bag, the yoga mat, and the pocket thermometer, I bring the shoes to my nose and smell them. I run to Stephen and fling myself into his arms.

“Thank you! They’re beautiful!” I say, squeezing him tight.

I release Stephen, then turn around and quickly analyze them looking for his “
they’re broken, therefore you can accept them
” mark. I flip them over and look everywhere, but I don’t see anything. The camera was one thing, and that seems like forever ago, but now it’s sort of our little thing he does. I don’t need for things to be broken to accept a gift from Stephen, but I have to say that I love that he does it. It’s our special little thing between the two of us.

“Shoelace,” he says, standing over my shoulder.

I look at the shoelace, but still don’t see anything. Then at the end of one, I see that the little plastic covering, so they don’t unravel is missing.

“Thank you,” I say, turning back around to face him.

I grab my bag from the floor and dig out a pair of ankle socks, then sit on the floor and put the chucks on my feet. They feel absolutely amazing. Stephen extends his hand down to me, and he helps me off the floor. He laces his fingers through mine, then we go downstairs together.

In the kitchen, I give Stephen an approving nod as he removes the bacon wrapped filets from the refrigerator and sets them down on the counter, so they come to room temp before he grills them.

I go back to the sink to finish washing the vegetables so I can make the salad.

“Do you need help with anything?” Nelly asks, walking into the kitchen.

I turn around and smile at her as Stephen answers her, “No, thank you, but we’d love it if you can join us for dinner tonight.”

“I’d like that,” she answers. “Are we dining inside or outside?” she asks.

Stephen gestures his hand and his eyes toward me, and I answer, “Out. Most definitely outside.”

“I’ll set the table outside, then,” Nelly says, then gathers everything up and heads outside to set the table.

Stephen pops a slice of cucumber into his mouth as there’s a soft knock on the front door. His mouth stops chewing, and he looks at me.

I dry my hands on a dishtowel, then I place my hand over his heart. Stephen has such a big heart and so much love to give. He places his hand over mine, then he threads his fingers through them, and we walk to the front door hand in hand. He opens the door to a confident yet scared looking Kate. In one hand she holds a bottle of red wine and in the other, Sadie’s leash is loosely wrapped around her wrist. Sadie is sitting on her hind legs and ever so slightly leaning the entire side of her body against Kate, letting her know she’s there. Sadie’s beautiful eyes connect with Stephen and without a word, he takes a step forward and protectively wraps his arms around his little sister. I remove the bottle of wine from her hand as Stephen ushers Kate inside with his arm wrapped around her shoulder being the protective big brother. Kate takes a step forward. Stephen moves his hands to the top of her shoulders, then he lets go. Her wide eyes take in the familiar surroundings from her childhood.

I stand next to Kate’s side, as she firmly laces her fingers through mine and looks wide-eyed around the entryway. Much like I can read Maddy’s thoughts, I watch as Kate’s revert and travel deep into her past. If I close my eyes and listen in the silence, I can still hear Kate’s little girl laughter echoing through the hallways. I can see her long brown hair tied up in an oversized bow, flowing behind her, wearing a white dress running down the hallway, giggling as my father chases after her in a game of tag. I want Kate to hear that little girl laughter and feel that free once again in my house. I want her laughter to fill these walls again.

Kate’s eyes travel over the surface of every wall, every decoration, and every photo hanging on the walls. Her eyes fill heavy with tears, then I glance at Maddy really quick. I hear the door open from the backyard as Nelly comes back into the kitchen. Sadie reaches up and rests her nose inside Kate’s other hand, as Nelly walks into the entryway. Kate’s eyes immediately connect with hers, then with instant recognition, her unshed tears spill down her cheeks.

“Nelly?” Kate whispers.

Nelly has changed so much over the years. Her once dark hair is now peppered with white streaks, and her slender frame has shrunk a few inches, but her kind eyes laced with motherly love are unmistakable.

“My little Katydid,” Nelly softly replies, placing her hand over her heart. Kate unthreads her fingers from mine, then both of her hands come up to her face, and she covers her quivering lips. Nelly holds out her arms, then she slowly walks toward Kate and gently wraps her arms around her trembling frame. Kate’s shoulders quake up and down in Nelly’s hold. Kate buries her face in the crook of Nelly’s neck as Nelly softly strokes Kate’s hair. “My sweet Katydid. Let me look at you,” Nelly says, pulling away to look at Kate. “My little Katydid is all grown up and such a beautiful woman,” she finishes.