It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1) (15 page)

“Was that what you didn’t want me to read in your mind?”

His boyish grin makes me laugh.

He reaches into my nightstand drawer, then rips the package open with his teeth.

I’m still reveling in my sweet release when he shifts back. He hovers over me, finding my eyes. “Shh.” He brings a finger to his mouth. “My mind-reading skills are telling me something …” His eyes teasingly shoot open as he pretends to be listening to something. “What was that? You want me to make you squirm some more?”

Could he be any cuter?
“Warning. Reading my mind could be detrimental to your health,” I say with weighted breath.

“Shit, woman, just when I think there’s no way I could possibly find you sexier, you open that sweet mouth of yours.” He kisses me hard, eating my mouth like he’s starving and I’m the first taste of food he’s had in weeks.

He enters me with a slow and steady rhythm like he did last time, and I love it. But right now, I want more—I need more. I take a tight grip of his firm ass and drive him into me more forcefully, telling him what I want. I find his eyes, and they’re blazing with an unleashed passion I want him to set free. I still get the sense that he is trying to be gentle, but I want him to know that that is not what I need right now. I need him to take me like he needs me, like he can’t live without me. I have to have this from him right now.

He grabs ahold of my hips, thrusting hard and deep inside me. Our breathing turns to ragged bursts as the sound of flesh against flesh fills the air, a sound I have never respected until now, here with Marshall.

Another orgasm builds in my belly, another sweet release even more intense than the last.

“Marshall,” I cry as he releases inside me and collapses around me, breathing into my hair. I wrap my legs around him, holding him there inside me, a connection I need for just a few more sweet moments.

We lie in bed, breathing heavily for several minutes before he kisses me sweetly and excuses himself to the bathroom. I watch him walk away. The lamp on my nightstand illuminates the firm, delicious ass that follows his sexy stride, reigniting the fire in my belly. I laugh as I appreciate the silly line “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.”

But it is when he’s coming back into the room that I really value his grandeur. As he makes his way to the bed, his confident undressed figure dries out my mouth. I soak in the view of the most magnificent cock I have ever laid eyes on. To my surprise, it begins to thicken as he notices me watching. He climbs back under the covers, lying on his side, so we’re face-to-face. He brushes a strand of hair from my eyes.

I blurt it out before I think (something I’m good at these days). “So where did you plan to take me that day?” I ask, referring to the day he left to be with his sister, the day he was supposed to be spending with me. I hope to shed some light on the fact that he abandoned me when I needed him most.

The pain I hadn’t seen in the past hour we’d spent wrapped in a wonderland of bliss reaches his eyes once again. I mentally kick myself for not just letting that day go for a little longer and savoring every second.

“I still plan to give you that day, Beth.” His sadness now reaches his lips. “I’m sorry that day got so messed up.”

“I get it, Marshall. Your family needed you. They should be your priority. I was selfish to get upset.” My words feel itchy in my throat as the need I felt to be near him that day comes rushing back. My loneliness had clouded my desire to fight for what I wanted, what I needed. I have let myself, once again, lose sight of my dream career, my dream man, the new and confident me I was determined to become. Even if only for a few days, I can’t let that happen again.

“No, Beth, you had every right to be upset. You’re not the selfish one here.”

I wonder if he is implying that he’s the one being selfish or if it’s Aubrey he’s referring to.

Marshall takes my hand. “Is it okay if we don’t talk about this right now? All I want to focus on is you and me. This just feels so good, and I don’t want anything to screw that up.” He pulls me in tight to his side, kissing me on the temple. “I want every minute I spend with you over the next few days to be all about taking care of you.”

What girl wouldn’t love the idea of being taken care of?

I smile, looking into his eyes. “How can I say no to that?”

***

Tuesday, June 22

I lie awake this morning after Marshall leaves, needing to get showered and dressed for work at the hotel. It was a wonderful night that should have me on cloud nine, with nothing to possibly bring me down, but I can’t shake the feeling that this thing Marshall doesn’t want to talk about is a large source of his pain. As if losing his wife wasn’t enough for one man. If I knew what it was, maybe I could help him heal.

I didn’t want to agree to let it go last night. I want to know as much as I can about him, but I agreed—knowing it was temporary—that I would bring it up again. At that moment, I would have done just about anything to take away the pain that I had reawakened in his eyes, pain that only minutes before had been seemingly absent.

I surprise myself by being twenty minutes early to Lake Street Café for my meeting with Max. I promised myself that the new me, the one with her dream job, the new pearl-colored Cadillac Escalade, the gorgeous lake home, the perfect husband, and two of the most beautiful well-behaved little kids would never be late. So at least prompt is a start. Hopefully, with Max’s help, the job will be first. The car may be mine someday if I work really hard, which I know I can do. The husband, kids, and home are highly unlikely for the unlovable, but a girl can dream.

I order a black coffee; my high-maintenance soy latte just doesn’t feel right to me today. I need to do anything I can to keep Marshall from popping up in mind while talking business. I take a seat near the front window and pull out my tablet to show Max the images of the building for the new club when he gets here. I open a new tab to pull up my e-mail while I wait. As usual, the local news pops up on my main screen, a setting I keep telling myself to change. I tap the e-mail button in the corner, and just before the screen changes, I catch a glimpse of the face of my attacker, a mug shot. My stomach twists as I decide whether it was real. Should I arrow back? Can I possibly ignore this?

“Liz?”

I jump at the sound of my name.

“Liz, are you all right?”

I look up at Max standing next to me.

“I said your name a few times, and you didn’t answer.”

I swallow back the bile rising in my throat. “Oh, sorry, Max. I must have zoned out.” I hit the X to close my e-mail. “I started a lunch tab, Max, so please go up and get whatever you want to drink and something to eat before we get started.”

He thanks me and heads to the counter. I hurry and pull up nightclub images in a new tab, eager to get back into the work zone. I tell myself it was just in my mind.

Max takes a seat while I’m ogling an image of a long W-shaped yellow nightclub sofa with chaise lounges on both ends. It’s perfect. I franticly go back to the building images, anxious to keep my head in the business game. I begin to show Max what we will hopefully be working with. I get to the image of the large brick wall and proceed to share my plans for the wall art and club sign idea: two illuminated martini glasses and a standout metal sign with the club name.

“This is where you come in, Max. I would want you to do some art pieces based around illuminated cocktails and martinis in bright colors with a rich black background.”

Max’s eyes light up as I speak, and I can tell he wants this job almost as much as I do. Sensing his intrigue, I can’t help but share with him the sofa image I’d found and fill him in on a few of the other design element images I have in my nightclub presentation file. Even though they don’t really involve Max, he seems fascinated. It feels good to have someone get excited about my ideas. The day before my big meeting, the boost in confidence doesn’t hurt, either. It gives me just what I need to put in my two-week notice at work, something I should have done yesterday on my first day back.

Our meeting goes longer than I’d intended, but I’m glad that I have to head straight to work when we leave the café; I have no time to revisit the image I saw—or at least I think I saw—come up on my screen today.

I immediately go to Kiki’s office, knowing she will be in today to meet with a new lawn care service, so I can give her my news. She tells me she knew it was coming and that she will be sad to see me go, but she knows it’s what I need to do. She also asks me if I feel like Krystal would be a good manager. I tell her I do. As much as I love my dear friend, if I had been asked this question before her divorce from Ross, the loss of her father, and her mother’s meltdown, it would have been hard, but I would have had to say no, or at least a weak maybe. All of Krystal’s tragedies seem to have changed her, grounded her. This management position is just what she needs.

Marshall stops in at the front desk this afternoon, insisting that he cook me dinner tonight. I give him my house key since I will be off later than him.

He cooks me dinner all right, a rosemary lemon chicken, roasted potatoes, and cranberry spinach salad, all delicious—at least the little I ate of it; we couldn’t wait to get our hands on each other and didn’t even make it to the bedroom until we had exhausted ourselves in every other room.

***

Wednesday, June 23

You know when you get that feeling of being certain that something will happen, something is going to go in your favor? Well, that is how I feel as I walk into the old brick grocery store for my meeting.

The future nightclub owners, Vince and Melanie, were about as easygoing and laid back as they come, not what I expected from two new business owners with a deadline. If I had to guess, I’d say they must be in their late thirties. I decide right away that I like them. They greet me with firm handshakes and smiles that are joyful and sincere. I envy the way Vince kindly escorts Melanie by lovingly putting his hand on her lower back. It is clear in seconds the two adore each other, something I could only hope to have some day. Something I wish with every ounce of my being that I could have with Marshall.

I lay out my design portfolio with the images Max had taken of Beacon Pointe, Aunt Margaret’s den, my bedroom, and my sister’s new living room. I sit back as they look around, anxious for them to get to the last few pages. I had decided to add a few of my ideas for the new club design just this morning. After speaking with Max yesterday and seeing how interested he was in my ideas, I couldn’t resist the urge to add them, even though the only requirement was that I show the owners my past work. I’d added the amazing sofa with tufted cushions and sleek curves that seats up to fifteen people with chaise lounges at each end with a soft teal-green fabric swatch next to it. I had printed the image of the large brick wall and drew up (to the best of my abilities) my martini glasses with bright liquid pouring into them. I had created standout club logo design idea elements. And even though I was unsure of the whole layout of the future club, I had added a basic floor plan layout with pops of color that were sure to catch their eyes.

My heart races as they turn to the first page of my design. They both stare silently at the page, then the second one, for what feels like forever before they look at each other. I feel my face flush. I worry they don’t approve. The fear I may not get my dream job sets in. Maybe I jumped the gun when I quit my job at Beacon.

“I really like what I see here,” says Melanie, “and from the look on Vince’s face, I can tell he agrees.”

“I would love to see more,” says Vince while he rises to his feet. “We are hoping to see plans from two or three designers; we will pay you for your time, so if you’re interested, we have the floor layout and measurements for you.” He turns to the desk behind him, then hands me a large rolled-up poster-sized tube.

“I would love the opportunity” I say, taking the tube from Vince.

“We look forward to seeing your design. Will two weeks be enough time for you?” asks Melanie.

I assure her it will.

Wednesday night for Marshall and me is much of the same. We are unable to look at each other without wanting to tear into one another like two savages, but we do manage to talk about work for a few minutes. I tell him how it had gone with Max yesterday, and for a second, I almost tell him about my attacker’s face popping up on my screen before Max showed up. But I am still afraid I imagined it and that he might think I’m crazy. I don’t want him to know I am too afraid to even look and see if I am right or not. Before we go to sleep, we promise to talk more tomorrow since neither of us has to work late.

***

Thursday, June 24

I get home just after two o’clock, and Marshall is waiting by his truck. Just the sight of the dark hair my fingers had been wrapped in this morning—while that magnificent mouth of his explored every inch me—has me panting in my driver’s seat. He meets me as I open my door and takes my hand to help me out.

“How was your day?” he asks.

“Great. And yours?” I look up into his beaming eyes staring intently at me. He keeps quiet and just holds his eyes with mine. “What?” I ask, feeling my face flush.
Will he ever quit affecting me this way?

“Mmm,” he moans, pulling me into him. “I really like that color on you.” He laughs and I bury my face in his chest. “This is what you do to me, Beth,” he says as he pushes himself up to me, his warmth and hardness pressing firm against my belly.

The new, braver, bolder me shows up and takes her face out of Marshall’s chest. “If you only knew what you are doing to me right now.” I lick my bottom lip, then bite at it innocently.

Within seconds, he has me backed up, tucked between him and my open car door. His mouth is on mine and his hand disappears into my black work pants and deep down into my panties. I gasp, and he bites down on the lower lip I’d moments ago used to get him going. His fingers dip into my sex, and he moans as he does it.

“You weren’t kidding,” he whispers in my ear. I’m surprised as he withdraws his hand since it had only touched me a moment. Seeing my surprise, he grins devilishly at me, then brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks one, then the other. “What I’m doing to you right now tastes delicious.”

My knees feel like limp noodles. This is the single, most sexy thing I have ever experienced.

He wraps his arms around my waist and leans in. “We’ll have to finish this later, Beth. There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

I look up at him, and there’s no doubt that disappointment has wiped my face clean of any passion I’d felt just seconds ago.

He laughs. “Sorry, baby. I just really want to get going. Why don’t you go in and change. I have a day to make up for, and I’d like to have time to do it.”

“You’re such a damn tease.” I smack his arm. I begin to walk to my front door but turn on my heel. “I will get you for this.” I do my best not to smirk as I try to look angry, but I don’t think I succeeded. He’s laughing again.

“On second thought, let’s make this a total adventure. Pack an overnight bag,” he tells me. “I’ll be back in an hour. I need to go get a few things. Pack tennis shoes, and you may want a sweatshirt too.”

I try to pack light, but since I don’t know where we’re going, it’s a hard task. I don’t own any cute pajamas, so at least that was easy. My yoga pants and Zac Brown Band T-shirt will have to do. I take a cool shower to ease my overstimulated body, attempting to make every warm, pulsing part of me ready for our evening.

I smile as I come out the door an hour later wearing my favorite cutoff shorts, the ones I wore last time we were supposed to have our day together, the first time we’d had sex, the night he left me alone, the night I don’t want to think about right now. That conversation can wait.

As I reach him, he’s shaking his head. “Shit, woman, you know wearing those shorts may just ruin my PG-rated plans for tonight.”