It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1) (19 page)

He presses his exquisite frame tightly against mine. It seems he wants and needs me to feel his readiness. My hands are still restrained above my head against the wall. A whimper is freed from my parted lips, and it’s all he needs to hear before tasting from my mouth with a greed and fury that consumes me. His heated hand trails up my middle and slides along to my back, where he sets free the clasp on my new black lace bra.

“Keep your hands up,” he commands, freeing me of the upper barrier. His hand again grips mine while his mouth travels to my erect nipples, where his wet tongue sways and swirls before rapid flicks make me dizzy with delight. Exultant heat encompasses my womanhood, while each heartbeat pounds over the sensitive folds. His fervent mouth meets mine before his free hand travels down to the button on my jeans. The vibration of the clashing zipper metal makes me moan as I grab ahold of his lower lip, dragging my teeth firmly across it. His hand sinks deep into the silk, gliding along the heated slickness.

“Oh, Baby, you’re so wet.” His voice is low and husky.

His fingers run up and down each warm inch with painstaking precision before his finger lightly taps on my clit with the just the right amount of pressure, making my back arch and my knees wobble. Kisses sweep over my neck and onto my chin.

He spins me around to face the wall. His mouth leisurely runs the length of my spine as his hands free me of my jeans and panties. Kneeling on the floor, he massages my backside while sliding his teeth along its flesh. He runs his tongue along the back of my upper thigh, and I note this zone as one of my new favorites. He rises, and his breath dances over my neck.

“Beth, I want to take you like this, but only if you want me to.”

“Yes, Marshall, please. I need you to take me.” I push my body back further into his, offering him my readiness.

Before I have a chance to acknowledge it, he has removed his clothes and the crinkle and rip of wrapping is barely heard over my heavy breath. His arm moves around my waist, causing a deep arch in my back, bringing me in even closer to him until I feel the intoxicating sensation of his length entering me with long, deep thrusts. I tip my head back against him.

He hisses in my ear, “Can I fuck you, Beth?”

His words make my tongue dry, and I can’t swallow. I’m confused. He’s inside me already, but I will play. “Yes,” I breathe.

“Say it, Beth.”

I swallow down the hard lump in my throat. “I want you to fuck me, Marshall.”

With that, he explodes into a fit of deep, penetrating thrusts. His hand buries deep into my hair, pulling my head back toward his. He proficiently suckles the flesh of my neck. The thunderous, hard slapping of skin, heavy moans, and racing breaths are music to my ears. If I would have known where that one dirty sentence could lead us, I would have said it sooner.

I’m at his mercy, and I love it. I crave him so deeply it’s almost like I need it. I need it to feel alive, unbroken, and worthy. One hand still holds my wrists while the other moves to firmly pinch one of my already tingling nipples, turning my body into a virtual puddle beneath his skilled fingers. His hands now grip my hips, crashing me into him harder. My head turns as I kiss his neck. The salt of our passion graces my tongue, making me long for more. An intense desire burns in me as the world begins to spin. Both of us writhe together as we let go of a week’s worth of tension, heartache, and longing. The moment is so powerful and glorious that my eyes prickle with tears.

As we unravel, weakness lowers us to the floor, where we both remain for a few moments on our knees. His arms are wrapped around my waist and his breath is weighted as he whispers in my ear, “Beth, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

I wrap my arms over his and place a cheek back on his left arm, nuzzling into it. “Hopefully, the same thing you’re doing to me.”

He kisses my head and lifts me up into his arms as easily as you would scoop up a child. He flicks off each light as he carries me again up the staircase and down the long hallway toward his bedroom.

“I would love a shower before bed,” I say, looking into his denim blues. He backs up a few steps and sets me down on the cool tile floor.

“You hop in, and I’ll go grab your bag and bring it in to you.” He steals one more kiss before he turns to head to the bedroom.

I have never before showered with a man. I’ve never known the feel of warm lathered hands gliding over my skin, never known how cared for something so simple can make you feel. As Marshall washes my hair, the tears begin, tears and shuddering shoulders I don’t have the power to hold back.

Clearly panicked when he notices, he turns my body to his. “Oh, God, Beth, what have I done? I took it too far, didn’t I? I was too rough with you.”

“No, Marshall, that’s not it.” I sniffle and try to calm myself. I want to tell him I’ve fallen in love with him. I want to tell him how badly I need him, how being with him is the only time I feel safe, unafraid, and like I matter. But I can’t. I still fear he will reject me bit by bit, just like Tanner did, just like Gavin did.

I place my hand on Marshall’s cheek. “You were perfect. It was perfect. I’ve just never had anyone take care of me like this.”

He places a hand over mine. “I’ll take care of you again tomorrow if you want.”

“Please,” I say before he holds me tightly in a hug, our bodies fitting together like we were designed to fill each other’s curves. Several minutes pass as the warm water rolls over our bodies—until the temptation of sleep becomes too great.

We crawl under the covers, and within seconds, my heavy eyelids win the battle. I begin to drift off.

“Hey, Beth,” Marshall whispers in my ear, “would you be okay with going to my parents’ for dinner tomorrow night? All of my family will be there. Aubrey and her family are driving into town in the morning. They also have a bunch of fireworks to light off.”

“Sure,” I moan before drifting off to sleep.

***

Saturday, July 3

Marshall leans against the bathroom doorframe, watching me as I fight all my hair into a messy bun.

“Maybe I should wait until Monday to taste the new batch of absinthe. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”

“Marshall, you just finished telling me how thrilled you are about this new blend. I promise you, I will be just fine. Go do what you have to do. I told you that you don’t need to feel like you have to take care of me.”

He kisses me on the top of the head. “I won’t be long. You can still come with me if you want.”

I just smile and shake my head at him in the mirror, and he’s off.

I brush my teeth before heading down to the kitchen, where Marshall said he’d left me breakfast. He instructed I get to it soon before it gets cold. The room at the top of the steps with its door closed piques my curiosity, and I can’t help but take a peek. Come on, it’s a closed door; who wouldn’t be curious? It’s like someone’s medicine cabinet; you can’t help but wonder what it is you can’t see and what you can learn about someone—usually more than you want to. I typically make a habit of refraining, but this closed door has my head spinning with the idea that there is more to Marshall’s history, more of him I’m dying to learn about.

I turn the knob, and it’s unlocked. He had to know I would look inside, being that I’ve passed it three times now. He must have nothing to hide. The room is painted pale pink, a queen-sized bed covered in a pretty flowery patterned quilt, a dresser and a gliding chair with ottoman. It is clearly a girly bedroom. They must have had this room set up for Marshall’s nieces. Marshall said his wife loved to take the girls.

I walk over to the dresser to inspect a small, square cardboard box. I lean over to view whatever is inside. The words “crack me” are written on the inner flap, and two speckled egg halves lie cracked inside a tiny nest. Someone clearly received the content of the egg. I wonder what was in it. A love note, a gift, an announcement? I wonder which one of them was the creative brain behind this little treasure. I wonder what their life had been like, what his wife Sarah did for a living, how hard it must have been to lose her.

I turn and exit, heart beating erratically with guilt.

I head downstairs to my breakfast and take a seat at the counter. That’s when I remember how last night I’d agreed to meet his entire family. What will they all think of me? What if his sisters don’t like me? Will they be comparing me to Sarah?

I clean off my plate of barely-eaten breakfast and head up to shower. Just as I finish blow-drying my hair, Marshall breezes into the bathroom. Excitedly he announces that the absinthe was perfect and that they will be ready to start marketing it in the next few months and he will be off around the country to promote it.

“That’s great, Marshall,” I tell him, but I can’t help but wonder what it will mean for us.

“I have a surprise for you.” Marshall beams and takes my hand, leading me downstairs. “Put your shoes on. It’s outside.”

I shoot him a look of disapproval even though my heart is fluttering with eagerness.

My silver Ford Escape is parked on the side of the street, cleaner and shinier than I’ve ever seen her.

“But, you just called last night. How is it done already?”

He takes my hand, and we move down the walk. “Roger’s the best in the business. And a bottle of our finest assured he would get right to it,” he laughs.

When we reach my car, he opens up my hand. My keychain with some added bulk drops into my hands. I look up at him.

“What’s this?” I point to the small, unfamiliar remote.

“Happy Birthday, Beth. Better late than never, right?” He leans in, kissing me on the forehead. “I called Roger early this morning for an upgrade… press the orange button twice.”

I do, and my car fires up.

“This winter, you won’t need to get into a cold car. Everyone who lives in Minnesota should have one of these babies.” He has me press it twice again, and the engine shuts off. “Now for the most important part of this little bugger. Hold down the red button,” he instructs.

My car goes off like there’s a national emergency. Lights blink, and a siren screams. Anyone within a two-mile radius would stop and look. It’s utterly obnoxious. I cringe and squeeze my eyes shut. I hold down the red button again, hoping the neighbors don’t come out of their homes with bats in their hands, ready to defend the neighborhood. The look on my face has him laughing so hard that he folds at the waist to brace his hands on the tops of his knees. I can’t help but join him.

“What the hell, Marshall?” I continue to laugh.

He’s still cracking up to the point that a few tears have rolled down his cheeks. “That look on your face when the alarm went off was priceless.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I’m sure your neighbors will be mighty pleased with you too.” I shake my head at him with a cheesy grin plastered on my face.

We both look over as his neighbor’s door slams shut. There stands an elderly man with his arms crossed.

Marshall waves at him. “Sorry, Arthur,” he yells.

The elderly man lights up when he realizes its Marshall, just like everyone else seems to light up when they see him. He waves back and turns back inside.

I look again at the remote in my hand, and he takes my hand in his.

“It’s a panic button, Beth. If you’re ever in trouble, you can just press the red button, and no one in their right mind will come anywhere near you with that racket.” He takes the keys from me and presses the unlock button.

I round the car to take a seat on the driver’s side while he takes a seat on the passenger’s side. His tall frame takes up every inch of available leg room. Our eyes lock on the place where the bloody fingerprint stain was before either of us inspects the rest of the interior. I swear my car is cleaner than it was when I bought it. Even the stain on the passenger’s side floor—from when I’d spilled my coffee while flailing my arms one morning, belting out one of my favorite songs—is gone. I’d even bought a spot remover to try to get that one out.

“Wow, Marshall, it looks new. This is all really thoughtful of you.” I touch his arm. My eyes will him to kiss me.

He leans over the console, placing a warm hand on my neck. “I’m pleased you like it.” With that, his mouth captures mine, so tenderly that if it were humanly possible to melt, I would. It’s almost like I can feel what he is feeling as our lips softly dance to the rhythm of a symphony he is conducting, music that is more beautiful than anything these ears have ever heard.

“Beth,” he says, his lips lingering on mine. “You mean so much to me. I …”

Please say it. Please utter those three words to me. Say those three words that could change my world forever.
This is the man whose love is all I’ve ever wanted from the moment I laid eyes on him.

I lean back to find his eyes and see what reads on those denim blues. First I notice passion in them, but as fast as I can register it, they turn dark with pain as his hand leaves my neck and he sits back.

“You deserve to be treated well, Beth.” His voice is low and strained.

Where on earth did he go just now? I exit the car with determination to soften his mood. Right now I just need to focus on getting ready to meet his family. “Tomorrow,” I vow silently, “we will talk.”

I meet him on the other side and I squeeze him tight. “You’re spoiling me,” I whisper.

“You deserve to be spoiled.”

“Hmm,” I say with a sly grin, biting at my lip for good measure. “I sure hope you plan on spoiling me some more tonight.”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” he says as the light reappears in his eyes as he scoops me up to carry me into the house.

“Down boy. I’m afraid you will have to wait. I hardly have enough time to get ready.”

He sets me down with a puppy dog face. I just love that I have the ability to turn his mood.

Alright, so I cave. A quickie it shall be.

***

We pull up to a spectacular home with a brick driveway that alone must have cost more than my townhouse. There’s a traditional front porch with pillars, a landscaped lawn that would have my father swooning, and cedar shake siding with rich mahogany trim and stunning stone accents. My nerves are in overdrive as Marshall steps out and comes to my door, taking my hand as I step down from the truck. He offers me his arm in true gentlemanly Marshall fashion. When we get to the front door, he stops and turns to me.