Waiting for Wednesday (14 page)

She tried to covertly swipe away her tears. “I love your kisses,” she whispered against his cheek.

“Lucky for you, I’ve got a lifetime supply stored up,” he replied softly. She giggled.

He loved to see her smile, loved her soft laughter. He came over her body, caging her beneath him, letting her feel, letting her see that he was with her. He’d give anything to make her realize he’d always be with her. His cock nudged against her pussy and she grinned.

“Looks like I woke someone else up too,” she said.

He pushed her legs apart with his knees. “You won’t hear him complaining about losing sleep either. What do you say we try to replace some of those heavy, sad feelings of yours with the warm and fuzzy ones you like so well?” He ran the head of his cock along her slick opening and she moaned.

“God, that feels good.” Her hips lifted, trying to capture more of him, and he fought against the urge to thrust into her. He bent down and captured her hard nipple with his mouth, sucking on the soft flesh as her fingers tightened in his hair. He loved her rough caresses, the way she lost all control whenever he touched her.

110

Waiting for Wednesday

He started to reach toward the nightstand drawer for a condom, but she grasped his wrist, holding him back.

“Lane?”

“I’m on birth control.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in and when they did, he couldn’t restrain his grin. Trust would always be a hard thing for Lane and her offer couldn’t be mistaken as anything other than solid proof that she trusted him. “Is that an invitation?”

“Do you need me to stick a stamp on it and mail it?” she asked, her lips turned up in a saucy smile.

He laughed long and hard at her jest. “Oh man. You are in for it now. Haven’t I ever told you what happens to smartasses in this family?” She shook her head and watched him curiously.

“They get tickled.” As he spoke, he ran both hands along her rib cage, tickling her as she tried to get out from under him.

Her giggles were loud and unrestrained and he drank them down like a cool pint of Guinness.

“Stop,” she pleaded, trying to capture his hands and halt his teasing assault.

“Nope. Proper way to ask is to say uncle.”

She laughed harder, but he noticed she refused to give in easily. Finally, when she was breathless from her exertions and her laughter, she gave him the word.

“Uncle.”

“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he said.

“Neither did I,” she confessed breathlessly and his heart lurched at the thought she’d never been tickled. The sudden urge to give her everything, show her everything, rolled through him.

111

Mari Carr

He grasped her waist and rolled on the bed until she was sitting on top of him. “It’s your party,” he said when his cock brushed against her buttocks. “Ride me, kitten.” She smiled at his offer, rising onto her knees and gripping his erection in her hands.

She positioned his cock at her opening before slowly sinking down. The sensation of being inside Lane’s body without the protection of a condom was almost more than he could bear. He’d never felt so much. She was hot and wet and so tight. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. There was no way this would last long.

Her movements on his cock were slow and steady and nowhere near enough. He gripped her waist and lifted her until just the head was left inside. Then he pulled her down—hard—against his hips.

She shook her head, taking his hands away from her waist and placing them on her breasts. “It’s my party,” she said with a grin. “And I’ll fuck how I want to.” He chuckled. “Don’t want to seem like an ungrateful guest, but I wish you’d fuck harder.”

She moved up and repeated his hard return. He gasped.

“Just harder?” she asked, thrusting once more. Stars flew behind his eyes and he knew what she wanted to hear.

“Faster would be nice too.”

She picked up the pace as his hands closed around her breasts, tugging at her nipples as she fucked the hell out of his cock.

“Dammit, Lane.” His breathing was labored and he found it hard to speak. He was certain he’d never seen anything more beautiful than Lane riding him, her hair loose over her shoulders. “I can’t last much longer.” He reached down to stroke her clit, rewarded by her soft moan. “God, yes,” she hissed.

He pushed the little distended nub harder as Lane’s pace increased even more. Her thrusts were harder, wilder, and he put his other hand on her waist to help her when on 112

Waiting for Wednesday

one movement, she lost his cock. Her eyes were glazed and he could see she was close as well.

“Fuck the ride,” he said, flipping her onto her back. “Need you.” He pushed into her body, penetrating her to the hilt. He kissed her as his hips moved against her relentlessly.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he moved deep. “Tris,” she cried as he felt her orgasm begin. Her inner muscles clenched against his cock and he gave up the fight to resist his own climax, pouring jet after sweet jet of come inside her welcoming body. As he came, he said, “Love you. God, I love you.” He hovered over her for several minutes, unwilling to give up the heat of her cunt.

He kissed her until his arms threatened to give out and he pushed to her side. He wrapped his arms around her and savored the feeling of her soft hair draped across his chest.

“Warm and fuzzy?” he asked as her breathing started to deepen. She was drifting off to sleep.

“Mmm. Warm and fuzzy.”

* * * * *

Lane was awakened the next morning by her cell phone. She sat up, disoriented, and realized Tris wasn’t in bed with her. A glance at the clock showed nine o’clock. She was going to get fired if she didn’t stop having all-night sex-fests with her patient’s son.

She laughed and decided she didn’t give a shit. She was happier than she’d ever been in her life. She retrieved her phone, looked at the number and sighed.
So much for that good
feeling
, she thought, as she opened the cell.

“James, I want you to stop calling me.”

“Meet me at the waterfront at ten o’clock.”

“Why?”

113

Mari Carr

“You want your stupid picture, you can have it. You don’t want to meet me in private, I got it. If you want the thing, you’re going to have to come get it. I’m not coming anywhere near that fucking pub. I’m not gonna give Collins and his dumbass brothers a chance to jump me.”

“They wouldn’t—”

“Come alone,” James interrupted. “Leave your Neanderthal boyfriend at home.

You can take the picture and we never have to see each other again.” Lane considered his words. She wanted the picture. The waterfront would be teeming with tourists, so she would be safe. Besides, his promise of never having to see or talk to him again was simply too good to pass up.

“I’ll be there.”

“Fine.” James hung up and she closed her phone.

Tris walked in with a washcloth and she was reminded that he’d taken her last night without a condom. There was an unfamiliar stickiness between her thighs that felt much lovelier than it should.

“I overslept…again.” Her tone was accusatory.

Tris, the scoundrel, just wiggled his eyebrows at her. “You’re not going to guilt me into leaving you alone at night, so you might as well start considering this your normal wake-up time.”

“Your pop—”

“Is eating breakfast with Riley and feeling good enough to give me shit about keeping you up so late. We really need to find our own place.” Lane felt a blush creep to her cheeks. Usually they took care to keep their nighttime adventures quiet, but last night, things had gotten a bit out of hand…and loud. “He heard us? Oh God, I’ll never be able to face your father again.” Tris laughed. “Yes, you will. The old guy’s just razzing me. He and my mother weren’t exactly experts at hiding when they were having sex.” 114

Waiting for Wednesday

Lane shook her head. “I don’t think I want to know this.”

“There are seven of us, Lane, and believe me, the stork didn’t drop us off. I mean, it’s not like they got it on in the middle of the living room, but when Mom and Pop disappeared behind the locked door of their bedroom, we knew what was going on.

Mainly because that was the only time they locked their door. And their bed squeaked.” Lane put her hands to her ears and started humming. He grinned at her.

“TMI?” he asked.

She nodded, but smiled.

“Here.” He held out the washcloth. “I thought you might be uncomfortable after last night.”

Even more heat rushed to her face and she felt certain she must resemble a beet by now. She tried to take the cloth from him, but he held on to it.

“Let me.” As he spoke, he pushed her back on the bed.

“Tris, I’m perfectly able to—”

He pulled the sheet down and placed the warm cloth at the juncture between her legs. “I’ve told you a million times, kitten. Being independent and letting someone take care of you aren’t disconnected things. You can have both.” He gently cleaned her as she considered his words. In all her time with him, Tristan had never made her feel trapped. Quite the opposite actually. For the first time in her life, she felt free to be her true self with someone and it felt wonderful.

She remembered James’ call and she glanced at the clock again. She only had forty-five minutes to take a quick shower and get across town. She started to tell Tris about the picture and about her ex-husband’s demands, but she reconsidered. Today would be the last day she’d ever have to see or speak to the man. She’d get her grandmother’s picture and close the book on that chapter of her life. She looked at Tris and smiled. She was looking forward to starting a new story with him.

115

Mari Carr

Chapter Eight

Lane paced by the park bench, thinking about how much had changed in the few short weeks since the first time she’d seen James here. There was a confidence, an optimism brewing inside her and, despite her unease at meeting her ex again, she couldn’t contain her happiness. Tristan loved her. He’d said it numerous times, but she’d never been able to say the words back.

Now she knew, somewhere along the line, she’d fallen in love with him too. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment. She wasn’t sure there was one. She just knew that Tris had been slowly scaling the wall to her heart and there was no doubt in her mind he’d not only climbed the damn thing, he’d torn it down.

“Hey, Lane.”

She turned to see James standing closely behind her. She’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of her new lover she hadn’t even seen him approach.

“James,” she said. “Did you bring the picture?” She was finished with the niceties.

She’d made excuses for James and his nasty behavior for years. She wasn’t going to even attempt to make this anything other than what it was—a quick exchange and then goodbye forever.

James glanced around. “No shithead?”

“If you’re asking me if Tris is here, he isn’t. Now give me the picture. I’m very busy.”

James reached into the pocket of his windbreaker and took out her beloved photograph. Her breath caught as she saw the familiar face of her grandmother smiling for the camera. The picture was worn, faded, and yet it never failed to evoke a feeling of peace inside her.

116

Waiting for Wednesday

Lane realized as she studied the tattered paper that this time, the feeling was different. Until Tris, this photograph was the only proof she had that there had been someone in the world, in her life, who had loved her and wanted her. Now, though she was happy to see her grandmother’s beloved face, she knew in her heart Tris wanted and loved her. She wouldn’t be alone ever again.

She looked up at James. At one point, she’d foolishly believed he’d felt that way.

Now, after spending the last few weeks with Tris, she realized what she’d felt for James hadn’t been love. She’d been a silly, inexperienced young woman desperate to find a happily ever after with the first man who’d ever paid her even a little bit of attention.

“Thank you, James.” Regardless of his cruel nature, she thought there must be some small part of him that was still good. He had kept and protected her grandmother’s picture and he’d returned it to her.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “There’s something else in my pocket for you.” She frowned, uneasy with his words and the strange look on his face. “This is all I want,” she said, looking around. There were people everywhere. The only reason she’d agreed to meet him here was because she’d been certain she’d be safe. Now she wasn’t sure.

James turned slightly and moved closer so only she could see the gun he quickly flashed before returning it to his pocket.

“It’s loaded and pointed at you. My finger is on the trigger, so you might want to listen very closely to what I’m about to say.”

“James—”

“I said listen!” She jumped at his harsh tone, reminded of the night he’d come home and found her packing to leave him. Jesus, she was seventeen kinds of fool.

“You’re going to come home with me, Lane. Back to our home. We’re going to wait there until your fucking boyfriend comes looking for you, and then I’m going to kill the bastard right in front of you.”

117

Mari Carr

Lane tried to make sense of James’ words. “Why would you do that? You’d lose everything. Your freedom, your life.”

“I’ve already lost everything, you stupid bitch. My wife, my job. The bank’s going to foreclose on the house. I’ve got nothing, Lane, and it’s Tristan Collins’ fault.” She shook her head. “No. Tris had nothing to do with—”

“You left me for him.”

“I didn’t,” she interjected, but James continued speaking.

“When I tried to stop you—I didn’t mean to hurt you so bad, but
you
were hurting
me
and before I knew it I was hitting you. The cops put me in jail. I wanted to tell you it was a mistake, but you disappeared. My boss found out about our fight and he canned me.”

“There are other jobs,” she said.