Читать книгу Deeper - Меган Харт - Страница 11

Now

“Mom! Are you listening?” Connor’s voice snapped Bess back to attention.

“Yes. Of course I am. Graduation is June 13. The invitations for the party already went out, honey. I got it covered.” Bess cradled the phone against her shoulder as she bent to search inside the fridge. She’d been forgetting to eat for the past two days. She was ravenous. “And you guys are leaving right after that with Dad for the Grand Canyon.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound as excited about the trip as he had a few months ago when they’d been planning it.

“You’ll have a good time, honey.” Bess ducked to look for something in the back of the fridge. “What time is everyone coming over today?”

“They’re not.”

“Why not?”

Connor, her oldest, grunted into the phone. “Dad didn’t open the pool.”

Bess paused in her rummaging. “He didn’t?”

Andy had always been so adamant about opening the pool for Memorial Day. Having a party for their friends and neighbors. The boys had always invited tons of kids over for burgers and dogs and swimming.

“No.”

Bess really didn’t want to ask, but Connor’s sullen answer prompted the question. “So you’re not having a picnic today?”

“No, Mom, God. Weren’t you listening? No party today! Dad didn’t open the pool!”

“So,” Bess said calmly, to fend off any further histrionics from her easily annoyed oldest son, “what are you going to do?”

“I’m going over to Jake’s house.”

“What about Robbie?”

“What about him?”

“Is he going with you?” The question came by rote. Bess found a jar of jelly and one of olives and pulled them out. She really needed to get to the grocery store. It had been on her list of things to do, but her priorities had…changed.

“How should I know?”

“Well,” she said patiently. “You could ask him.”

“Robbie’s got his own friends,” Connor said coolly, as though putting on a sophisticated tone could change the fact that at eighteen he was still complaining like an eight-year-old about having to take his younger brother with him.

“I know he does. But Jake is his friend, too. I just wondered if he was going with you, that’s all.”

“I don’t know.”

Bess sighed as she pulled out bread and a knife and found a plate in the cupboard. “Where’s your dad?”

Silence. Connor breathed into the phone. Bess stopped making her sandwich. “Connor? Something wrong?”

“No.”

Bess put the knife down and sat to give this conversation her full concentration. “Is something going on with your dad?”

“I said nothing’s wrong! I gotta go.”

“How’s studying for finals coming?”

“Fine. Mom, I gotta go. Jake’s waiting.”

“Are you driving or is Dad dropping you off?” Connor had had a few fender benders since getting his driver’s license, and though he insisted he was a more careful driver now, Bess wasn’t as comfortable with him behind the wheel as Andy was.

“I’m driving.”

She bit her tongue against an admonition. “The Chevy?”

“As if Dad would let me take the BMW.”

“I thought the Chevy needed new brakes.”

“Dad says he’s taking it in next week.”

A vision of crumpled metal and blood spattered on the highway turned her stomach to ice. “Wear your seat belt. Make sure Robbie does, too.”

“I gotta go.”

Without waiting for her to say goodbye, Connor hung up. Bess stared at the phone for a second before replacing it in the cradle. She remembered a sweet, affectionate child who’d never hesitated to hug and kiss her. Who’d been unrelenting with his affection as a matter of fact, to the point of being overwhelming. When was the last time he’d hugged her? When had he been replaced by the sullen, combative young man who locked her out of his life?

“Mmm, jelly sandwich.” Nick, wearing only a towel tucked low around his hips, sauntered into the kitchen. He glanced at the phone. “Everything okay?”

Bess nodded as she spread the bread with jelly and used a fork to scoop out some olives. “That was my son. Connor.”

She deliberately didn’t look up as she said it. They hadn’t talked about why she was at the beach house, or her life now. For the past two days, she and Nick had done little else but screw and sleep. Well, she’d slept. She didn’t know what he did, only that she’d woken more than once to find him gone. Each time, she’d been convinced she’d dreamed it all, and he wasn’t coming back. So far, he always had.

“Want a sandwich?” She gestured at the plate and then looked at him.

Nick put a hand flat on his belly. “I don’t think so.”

He didn’t breathe or sleep, so he probably didn’t eat, either. Bess shoved away that detail. Thinking too much about stuff like that made all of this seem too much like a dream when she wanted…no, needed…it all to be real.

She pulled out the chair and sat to bite into the sandwich with a small sigh. Her stomach rumbled and the hunger she’d been ignoring roared to life. Jelly had never tasted so sweet.

Nick leaned an arm against the door to the deck and stared out at the beach. Bess liked watching him like that, with the late-afternoon sun dappling him with gold. He stood with unselfconscious ease, unaware of or unconcerned with her scrutiny. She could count his ribs, though he wasn’t thin, just lean. The jelly coated her tongue and she swallowed against the sudden rush of saliva. She wanted to press her face to the tuft of hair under his raised arm and nuzzle him. Smell him. She wanted to tug the carelessly knotted towel and reveal all of him to her hungry gaze. She wanted to get on her knees and take him in her mouth and have him fill her up all over again.

He turned and caught her looking. She saw no surprise in his gaze, just the same heat that was burning in hers. Nick didn’t move toward her, though. He stayed silhouetted in the doorway and watched her eat. His eyes took in each movement of her hand to her mouth, each bite, each time she swiped her tongue along her lips to lick away the jelly. He watched her eat as if he was eating, too, only his meal was made of desire and not bread and jelly.

Bess finished her sandwich and licked her fingers, the touch of her tongue on her skin as sensual as if Nick had taken her hand and licked it himself. She picked up an olive and popped it into her mouth, where the tangy, sharp taste contrasted with the jelly’s lingering sweetness, making her eyes water.

The front of Nick’s towel bulged, and still he didn’t move. Bess turned sideways on the straight-backed kitchen chair to face him. She parted her legs, giving him a shadowed glimpse of her thighs below the hem of her nightgown. Nick swallowed. She watched his throat work. She watched his mouth open, his tongue creep out, and she inched up the hem of her gown with a slow, purposeful curling of her fingers in the fabric.

Higher and higher the material crept as Bess clutched it. Her thighs trembled. Her clit throbbed as she parted her legs still further. What did he see now? The first hint of dark blond curls? The shadow of her cleft? The smoothness of her inner thighs?

She shifted soundlessly on the chair and tilted her pelvis just slightly. Offering herself to him. He still didn’t move, though now the front of the towel bulged even more and his fists had clenched at his sides. His chest hitched. His jaw tightened, and Bess watched the small muscles of his cheek leap.

She pulled the gown higher and let the cool breeze from the ceiling fan wash over her bare skin. Without looking away from his eyes, Bess ran her other hand over her breasts until her nipples poked the front of the lace. She didn’t have to see herself to know how she looked; his gaze reflected her. She licked her fingers and slid them under her gown. She used her own wet heat to stroke her rigid clit.

Nick groaned.

Bess, smiling, opened her legs wider to show him exactly what she was doing. No more hiding. She rubbed herself in small, tight circles until her inner muscles clenched and she had to bite her lower lip on a groan of her own.

At the noise, Nick’s hands moved as though he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with them. He took one step and stopped. He put a hand to the place where the towel tucked against his body, but didn’t open it. The pale blue cotton was too thick to outline the shape of his stiffening cock, but there was no doubt he was getting hard.

Bess’s gown now bunched up around her waist. The cool, slick, white-painted wood slipped beneath her bare ass as she moved on the chair. She let go of her gown to grip the seat, her other hand moving faster between her legs. Her toes pointed and she pushed upward a little. The back of the chair dug into her shoulder blades. She wanted to close her eyes, but didn’t.

“Take off the towel and come here,” she ordered.

Nick did with a simple jerk of his wrist. The towel fell unheeded to the floor and he stepped over it. Without stopping the slow circle of her fingers on her clit, Bess let go of the chair to reach for him. She pulled him closer. Her fingers dug into his ass. She kissed his belly and his muscles jumped. She licked him, and his hips bumped forward.

She put her hand at the base of his prick, holding him still while she feasted on the warmth and salt tang of his skin. She nibbled his hip as her hand worked faster between her legs. Nick gathered her hair at the base of her neck and kept it from tangling around her wrist or his cock, wet now from her mouth. She took him in deep, down the back of her throat, gratified at his grunt of pleasure and surprise.

New tricks.

She slid her first and middle fingers inside herself and used the heel of her palm to press against her clit in the same rhythm she was using to suck him. Up, down. She used her tongue to swirl along the rim of his cock head as she brought her curled fist up to meet her mouth. Hand and mouth in tandem, other hand between her legs. She fucked him and she fucked herself. Nick pushed forward as his hand tightened in her hair. Bess opened her mouth at the sting as he pulled, but didn’t protest.

She was already close, her body primed rather than depleted by the past two days of near-constant sex. Pleasure swelled inside her. It would have been easy to lose herself in it and forget what she was doing for him. Easy to stutter. She was so close she almost couldn’t care.

Nick mumbled encouragement as he pumped forward, and she took him all the way in. Stroke, lick, suck, rub. Bess shuddered and had to move her mouth away in order to breathe. Her hand slid up and down along his length while the one between her legs slowed. Slower. Slower…She pressed her body forward into her palm and took him in her mouth again.

She came. The world got dark for a moment, closed to all but the climax washing over her and the taste of Nick. He cried out, something incoherent. Heat flooded her tongue. The memory of his taste and smell, but only the memory. He came in her mouth but only memories filled it.

It didn’t matter. Was, in fact, better that way. A bonus. She’d go down on him ten times a day if she didn’t have to actually swallow.

Her clit pulsed against her hand in the sweet aftershocks of coming. Bess kissed Nick’s stomach and reached behind her head to loosen his fingers from her hair. She looked up at him with a smile.

He stared down at her, face slack in the aftermath of his pleasure, but then smiled back. “Holy shit.”

She laughed and kissed his stomach again, then pushed him gently away so she could stand and go to the sink, where she washed her hands and splashed cool water on her face. Rinsing her mouth was habit rather than necessity, but the cool water tasted good and she cupped a couple handfuls to her mouth.

He was still staring, still naked, when she turned from the sink. “Wow.”

Bess raised an eyebrow and leaned against the counter. “Wow?”

Nick bent to grab the towel and wrap it around his waist again. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

She grinned, pleased. “Thank you.”

“No…” Nick shook his head. “I don’t mean that.”

This wasn’t quite as nice to hear. “No?”

“No.” He shook his head again, so that his hair fell over his eyes. “I mean…you didn’t used to be like that.”

That was both true and not. She hadn’t been like that with him. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Nick.”

“I don’t want you to say anything.” He crossed to her and took her in his arms, but didn’t kiss her. “I just wanted you to know you’re incredible.”

“Thank you.” She poked his chest. “Better than you remembered?”

He laughed. “Just different.”

She ran a finger around his nipple and watched it tighten. The past two days had proved his cock would do the same if she stroked it, though they’d just finished. Bess looked up at him. “Comes with the territory, Nick.”

Age, she meant. Nick brought her hand to his lips and kissed the fingers, then nibble-kissed up her arm until she laughed and squirmed away. He let her go, but his eyes gleamed and his smile sent warmth oozing all through her.

“Amazing, that’s all.”

Bess curtsied. “I’m going to take a shower, and then I have to go to the store.”

Nick had already showered, but he followed her into the large master bath. Bess started the hot water, then quickly brushed her hair and pulled it into a loose bun on top of her head to keep it as much out of the spray as possible. She pulled off her nightgown and tossed it into the laundry. The scent of sex had thoroughly saturated the fabric. Hell, it had probably saturated the entire house by now.

Nick leaned against the sink, watching. Bess tested the water with her hand before getting in, giving him a glance over her shoulder. “You coming in again?”

“I’ll wait until you’re done.”

Even before, when they’d spent every spare moment they could together, it hadn’t been like this. She’d eaten at his table and brushed her teeth in his sink, slept in his bed and watched TV on his couch, but she hadn’t lived with him. They hadn’t been together for so long without a break, the way they’d been here.

Bess ignored him as she ducked under the water and let it hit the sore spot between her shoulders. Her entire body ached here and there, and bruises had blossomed in strange places. She and Nick hadn’t been rough, just frequent and abandoned. She touched one spot, an already yellowing rose on one hip, and remembered Nick’s teeth had put it there. She filled her palm with shower gel and scrubbed her skin, reminding herself to pick up a net sponge at the store. Her knees and calves prickled with hair she’d been too busy to shave, and she reached for her razor. The shower had a built-in seat and she used that to prop up her foot as she scraped the blade along her soap-softened skin.

The shower door slid open and she jumped, cutting the back of her ankle. The water stung and she looked up, annoyed. “Ouch!”

“You okay?” Nick leaned in the opening.

Bess touched the wound. It left her fingers briefly crimson, but the water quickly washed away the blood. “I’ll be okay.”

“Can I watch you?”

Refusal rose to her lips, but she shrugged. “Sure.”

Self-conscious from his attention, Bess fumbled through the rest of her routine. She’d been looking forward to a long, hot shower, but finished quickly instead and turned off the water. Nick handed her a towel matching his. Bess wrapped it around her chest and stepped out onto the bath mat.

“I never watched a girl shave her legs before.”

She thought about telling him she wasn’t a girl, but didn’t. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?”

Nick chuckled and moved out of her way as Bess went to the sink. “Sure.”

She brushed her teeth and rubbed her skin with lotion, then hung up the towel. He was still wearing his towel. “Are you planning on getting dressed at all?”

“Sure.” Nick glanced into the bedroom, then back at her. “My clothes…”

“Oh. Right. You can toss them in the washer while I’m gone. We probably should do the sheets and towels, too.” Bess pushed past him and into the bedroom, where his clothes lay in the same pile they’d stayed in since she’d first stripped them off. Behind her, Nick came into the room.

“Yeah,” he said. “Well, it’s not just that.”

He toed the pile. Bess looked up from the drawer where she was pulling out a pair of panties for the first time in two days. She stepped into them, then reached for a bra.

“Oh,” she said, feeling really stupid. “They’re all you have.”

Nick nodded. The breath suddenly wheezed out of her, and Bess had to sit on the edge of the bed. Her stomach tumbled and she pressed her hands to it. She tried to take slow, even breaths, but heard the whistle of her own gasps anyway.

One set of clothes. This seemed more important, somehow, than the fact that he didn’t sleep or eat or breathe. One set of clothes only, nothing more, because Nick had nothing more. Was it what he’d been wearing when he…? Bess shuddered and clapped her hands over her eyes.

The bed dipped beside her. Nick put his arm around her shoulder, and though she meant to resist his touch, Bess turned and buried her face against him. She didn’t weep. This wasn’t grief rearing up inside her, stealing her breath and turning her guts. It was something else. Fear, maybe, that she was insane. Fear of the unknown. Fear he’d go away again without letting her know, and this time she’d have no secret hope harbored within her of ever seeing him again. If he went away this time, she’d never be able to convince herself he would come back.

“I’m sorry,” Nick said. She released her grip on him and looked up. “Don’t be sorry.”

He touched her softly under the chin. “Believe me, Bess, it freaks me out a little, too.”

“I’ll buy you some more clothes when I go out.” She got up, needing action to force away emotion. “You’re about Connor’s size.”

She turned, to see him looking stunned. She paused with one arm through the sleeve of her blouse. “Nick?”

“How old’s your kid?”

“Connor’s eighteen,” she said. “Robbie’s seventeen. They’re what my grandma called Irish twins. Eleven months apart.” Her old habit of babbling caught up with her, and the wider Nick’s eyes got the faster she spoke. “Nobody would ever mistake them for twins, though. They barely look like brothers. Connor’s dark and Robbie’s light, like me…”

She trailed off. Nick had stood and gone to the window to stare out. His shoulders hunched as he gripped the windowsill. Tension vibrated in every line of his body.

“Nick?”

“I didn’t think,” he said. “I know you said it, but I really didn’t think about it.”

Instinct told her to go to him, but old habits couldn’t completely change. She imagined, instead, the silk of his skin beneath her comforting touch. Nick bent his head, his voice a low rasp.

“Tell me how long it’s been,” he said.

How could he not know? She had counted every day since the last time she’d seen him, one by one like bricks in a wall. How could he not remember, unless the passage of time had meant nothing?

“Twenty years,” she told him without pause. There was no point in trying to soften it.

Nick’s body jerked before he got himself under control. He half turned toward her, a tight smile pulling at his reluctant mouth. “So he’s not mine, at least.”

“Not yours?” Bess’s breath skipped in her lungs. “Oh, Nick. No. He’s not. Did you think he might be?”

Nick shook his head. “No. I don’t know. When you said you had kids, I thought…I mean, I knew you might. I thought you must have gotten married and stuff. I just didn’t think…Twenty years…” He trailed off and his mouth twisted again. He blinked rapidly.

The sight of this breakdown, however valiantly he fought it, destroyed the old reserve. She went to him and took him into her embrace. He buried his face against her neck and clutched her so tightly she thought her ribs might crack. She held him while he fought the sobs.

“Shh,” she soothed, her hands rubbing his back comfortingly. “It’s all right.”

Nick shook his head against her. Heat pressed her skin, but though his shoulders heaved, apparently he could no more shed tears than he could sweat or ejaculate.

“I don’t know where I was,” Nick moaned, so low she could barely hear him. “Where the fuck was I, Bess? For twenty fucking years?”

“I don’t know, baby,” she whispered. “But you’re here now.”

He pushed away from her and stalked the room, stopping to grab up his boxers from the pile and shove his legs into them. He turned as she watched, and his face had gone dark. Storm dark.

“Didn’t anyone look for me?” he demanded, throwing out his hands. “Didn’t you care where the fuck I went?”

She blinked, trying not to be offended by his sudden wish to blame her. “I cared. But I didn’t know you were…gone. Not like that.”

“Why not?” He advanced on her to grab her by the shoulders and shake. His fingers dug into her skin. He’d leave more bruises.

She couldn’t explain to him how hard it had been to find out where’d he’d gone or how easy it had been for her to believe he didn’t really want her. “I asked about you, but nobody knew anything. I waited for you, but when you never came I thought you didn’t want to. I didn’t know you couldn’t. Nobody knew.”

He let go of her and paced as she watched. He turned to look at her, answering his own question before she had the chance. “You mean, nobody cared.”

She’d cared, but Bess said nothing.

“I was that much of an asshole, huh?”

“I never forgot you.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” He shook his head.

“No. It’s just the truth.”

“Did you want to forget me?” he asked her after a moment.

Bess sighed, but answered. “After a while. Yes. After a while I just put that summer behind me.”

Nick shook his head, turning. He sank onto the bed, his arms crossed low over his stomach as if it hurt. He rocked a little and groaned, then looked up, face bleak. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose bore the same faint sun-kissed blush of pink, and the rest of his skin was as tawny as it had always been, but dark circles had lodged beneath his eyes. Lines that had nothing to do with age bracketed his mouth.

“I wanted to come to you,” he whispered in a soul-sick voice. “I remember, now. I said I’d find you. I wanted to. But instead—”

She shook her head and went to him. Their knees touched when she sat next to him. She took his hands from their grip on his stomach and put them around her, and she pulled him close. His face nestled with perfect precision into the hollow of her neck and shoulder, and hers found the same place on him. She closed her eyes. She breathed him in. She touched him. Once upon a time the sun hadn’t risen without her thinking about Nick’s smile, and the wind hadn’t blown without it whispering his name.

“You’re here now,” she said. “And that’s all that matters.”