Read Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3) Online

Authors: Melanie Harlow

Tags: #Adult, #contemporary romance, #new adult, #Romance

Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3) (14 page)

BOOK: Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3)
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“Inside me,” I panted.

“I have to go get a condom from my jacket. My wallet’s in my pocket.” His breath tickled my neck.

“No!”

He picked his head up and looked at me. “What?”

“Don’t go,” I said, stroking him softly, desperate to feel that hot, velvety skin inside me with nothing between us. Maybe I couldn’t give him all my nights, but I could give him this. “I’m on the pill. It’s OK.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure you trust it?”

I understood his concern for risk—he’d already dealt with one surprise pregnancy in his life. But I was diligent about taking my pill. “Yes. I promise it’s safe. I want to feel you this way. I want to be that close to you. Let me.”

“I want it too.” He reached between my legs and moaned as he slipped a finger easily inside me. “I want it so fucking badly.”

A moment later, he was pulling me closer to the edge of the counter and positioning the tip of his cock between my legs. He teased me a little first, stroking it up through my center, brushing it over my clit. Both of us watched as he slid inside me.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered, his eyes closing.

I couldn’t speak, I was so mesmerized by the sight of his body slipping inside mine, by the thought that there was nothing between us. Running my hands up his chest, I locked them behind his neck and our mouths came together. He moved his hands to my ass and held me steady as he moved in and out, the rhythm slow and steady, the friction hot and tight.

Eventually he moved one hand between us, his thumb rubbing my clit. “That feels so good,” I whispered against his lips, desire pulling tight in my belly. “You know exactly how to touch me. You know just what my body wants.”

He drove into me faster and harder, and I locked my legs around him, pointing my toes as my orgasm peaked. I yelled his name, over and over again, writhing and clinging and clawing at him like I was drowning and he was dry land. Slipping his hands beneath my ass, he lifted me off the counter and bounced me up and down his long, hard shaft. I cried out every time he let me all the way down, his cock stabbing deep. He turned and put my back against the refrigerator, pounding into me so hard the entire thing shook. Then somehow he slipped his arms beneath my legs so my knees were slung over his elbows, my body open even wider to him.

“I’m gonna come so fucking hard inside you,” he growled.

“Yes!” I panted, wild with the thought, bursting with the desire to ease something within him. “I want it, I want everything. Give it to me.”

With one final violent thrust, he groaned long and hard, burying himself deep within me, his cock throbbing again and again and again. I clung to his neck, our lips barely touching, sharing a breath between us.

• • •

We decided to take a shower, not so much because we felt dirty but because we realized we probably needed a break from sex but still wanted to be naked and touching each other. A shower was a good excuse. Levi threw on a shirt and ran out to the car to grab the bag he’d packed while I ran the water. He joined me a few minutes later.

We washed each other’s hair—I had to stand on tiptoe for that—soaped each other up, and probably touched every single inch of each other’s skin, but not necessarily in a sexual way. It was sweet and tender and romantic the way he knelt down in front of me, the way his hands moved over my limbs, the way his lips brushed the backs of my knees, each vertebra of my spine, the nape of my neck.

“So do you sing in the shower?” I asked him as he sudsed up my hair.

“Not usually.” He grinned wryly. “Scotty doesn’t like the noise. Every time I try to do it, he begs me to stop.”

I laughed. “Seriously? I finally found something you’re not good at?”

“You did. I can carry a lot of things, but a tune is not one of them. I think he cried last time I tried to sing to him. He hates when I wash his hair too.”

“Now
that
I know you’re good at.” I smiled and closed my eyes as his fingertips rubbed my scalp. “You can wash mine any time you want. If I cry, it’s because it feels so good.”

We dried each other off, hung up our towels, and I grabbed a wide-tooth comb from a drawer. “Want to comb my hair too?”

“Sure.”

I turned around and faced the mirror, and he stood behind me, patiently combing through my shoulder-length dark hair. “So gentle,” I said.

He caught my eye in the mirror and cocked one brow, bringing that flutter back. “When I have to be.”

Oh, damn.
The reminder that he was rough sometimes turned the flutter into an urge. I fidgeted as he finished up, admiring his strong, masculine body in the mirror. When he finally set the comb down, I turned to face him. “Ready for bed?”

“Yes. Just need a minute to brush my teeth.”

“Me too. And take a pill.”

His eyes went wide. “Yes. Please take that pill.”

I pulled the case from my makeup bag and held it up. “No worries. Hey, this is kind of like a little vacation.”

He kissed the top of my head. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”

We finished getting ready for bed, and I lit the candles in my room while he checked his phone one last time. I loved that he felt comfortable enough to walk around naked in front of me. I loved that we were going to bed together. I loved everything about tonight.

“All good?” I asked, tucking the lighter back in my nightstand drawer.

“I guess. No word from her.” He looked a little concerned but shrugged.

I ran my hands up his arms and rose up on my toes to whisper in his ear. “Want to naked cuddle with me?”

He made a noise that was half-laugh, half-groan, and I felt his cock twitch against my thigh as he pulled me close, walking me backward toward the bed. “Yes, I want to naked cuddle with you. I want to naked everything with you. All the time.”

He kissed me, catching me behind my back and crawling onto the bed. I locked my arms around his neck as we slid between the sheets, kissing and clinging, and he rolled over so I was on top. “Mmmm,” I murmured, bringing my legs astride his hips. “I’m never going to want you to leave.”

“I wish I didn’t have to.” His tone was serious.

Oh, fuck. I shouldn’t have said that, even to tease him. Now he feels bad.
“Let’s not think about that. We still have all night.” I sat up and he took my hands, kissing them before lacing our fingers together above his chest.

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he said quietly, candlelight flickering in his eyes.

“For what?”

“To fall in love.”

My breath caught and I couldn’t move or speak or even blink. He kept our hands twined together, focusing on them as he went on.

“It wasn’t anything I thought I wanted or needed or deserved.”

“Levi,” I whispered, my heart aching for him. “Everyone deserves love.”

“I didn’t want my son,” he continued before I could say anything else. “I didn’t want to be a father.”

He was quiet for a second and I nearly rushed to defend him, but something told me to stay silent and merely listen. He’d bared his body; now he was baring his heart and soul, and I wanted them as much as I wanted the physical.

“I wished, before he was born, that he wouldn’t exist. I thought he was a mistake, and I told Tara I would support her if she decided not to go through with the pregnancy.” He swallowed hard. “Every day, I’m sorry for that. Every single day.”

My throat squeezed so tight I couldn’t have spoken even if I wanted to.
This is why
, I thought.
This is where his guilt comes from, and it’s rooted so deep, twined so inextricably with his love for his son.

“The day he was born, the moment I saw him for the first time, I was overcome by this powerful longing to protect him, this overwhelming love I’d never felt for anyone or anything before. But it was matched by this…
shame
that I hadn’t wanted him.” He looked up at me. “I’ve never told anyone this before. I hate the words.”

“But that’s not you anymore. You were so young, Levi. And it was so unexpected. Anyone would need time to adjust. It all changed once you saw him, right?”

He nodded. “I held him in my arms and cried, apologizing silently, over and over again. I swore to be a good father.”

“You are, love,” I whispered fiercely. “You are.”

“I’m trying.” He met my eyes again. “And I’ll try to be what you deserve too. But I’m worried I can’t be both.”

“Levi, stop. You can love us both, I promise. You don’t have to choose.” I leaned over and kissed him, softly at first, feeling his cock begin to swell between my legs. I rocked my hips over him, stroking between his lips with my tongue, feeling his hands slide up my back. “I told you—you’re enough…although I can’t seem to
get
enough.” I sat up and put my fingers in my mouth, and his jaw dropped as I reached between my legs and rubbed myself.

“Jesus Christ.” His eyes were wide, and his dick jumped beneath me.

I knelt over him and he took it in his hand, placing the tip between my legs. I lowered myself slowly, enjoying every inch of hot, bare skin sliding inside me. When I rested on his hips, my body filled with him, I braced my hands above his shoulders and leaned down to brush my lips over his, feeling him grow even bigger and harder inside me.

“Listen to me,” I said. “Yes, this took us by surprise. Yes, the situation is difficult. Yes, we could walk away. But I don’t want to, Levi. I love you. And if you love me, then let’s make it work.”

“I do love you. That I know. But I don’t know when I can do this again,” he said, his hands rubbing my back. “Stay with you like this. And that kills me.”

I started to move over him, whispering in his ear. “Then let’s make every second count.”

 

I told her, and she still wanted me. I told her everything—and here she was, saying she loved me, taking me inside her, wrapping me up in her softness. How did she know exactly what I needed? How was it possible she wanted to give it to me? This beautiful woman, who loved like an angel and fucked like a porn star…what had I ever done to deserve her?

Stop fucking questioning it. For fuck’s sake, she’s riding your cock like Calamity Jane on crack—just enjoy it!

And that’s when my phone went off.

No. Oh fuck. Please, no.

Jillian stopped moving, her hands falling from where she’d been holding her hair on top of her head. Her breath coming fast, she looked over to the dresser, where I’d set my phone. It was vibrating, the screen lit up.

She looked back at me. “Want to get it?”

No, I don’t want to get it. I want you to keep fucking me like you were. It’s the best thing I’ve ever watched, and I’m about to flood your body like the levees broke.
“Give me one second.”

She swung her leg over me and got off my dick, which was immediately cold and angry with me. I went over to the dresser and checked the call—it was my sister.

My stomach clenched. “Hello?”

“Hey. I’m so sorry to call you.”

“That’s OK, what’s up?” But in the background I could hear what was up—a massive meltdown.

“It’s Scotty. He’s upset about the nightlight.”

“Oh, fuck.” I tipped my forehead into my hands. How could I have forgotten to pack the nightlight? And after a tough week, too.
Fucking idiot!

“He says he has to have it to sleep?”

I swallowed, so angry with myself I wanted to punch my reflection in the mirror over Jillian’s dresser. “He does.”

“I’ve tried everything—other nightlights, leaving the hall light on, even leaving the bedroom light on, but nothing was right. This is the problem with letting him be so particular about things all the time.”

My temper flared, but I took a deep breath and counted to five. “Let’s not get into that now. Has he slept at all?”

“I don’t think so. But he didn’t really start to break down until about ten or so.”

I grabbed my watch. “Ten! Monica, it’s twelve thirty! Why didn’t you call me?” God, I was an asshole. I knew why she hadn’t called me.

“Because I was trying to let you have a night to yourself, Levi! I’m sorry!”

I exhaled, closing my eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I appreciate your trying to help.” And would it really have been any better if she’d called sooner? I’d have missed out on half the time I’d spent with Jillian. Maybe we wouldn’t have had the kitchen sex or the shower together. Maybe she wouldn’t have told me she loved me.

“I wasn’t going to call at all, but you said if it really got bad, you wanted to know.”

“No, you did the right thing.” I set my watch down and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can he talk?”

“I don’t know. Let me try. Hey, Scotty? Your dad’s on the phone. Want to talk to him? Come on, it’ll make you feel better. Want to say hi?”

I took a deep breath, picturing the scene. Scotty balled up in a corner somewhere, hands over his ears, crying inconsolably, rocking back and forth.
Don’t get mad. It’s not his fault. It’s yours—you forgot the nightlight, asshole. You were so excited about your nonstop all-night fuckfest, you forgot one of the essential things he needs to go to bed. And if you’re really honest with yourself, you’d admit that after the kind of week he had at school, an overnight at Monica’s wasn’t the right decision for him.

“He won’t talk,” Monica said. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s OK. I’ll come get him.”

“OK,” she said. “I wish I knew how to handle this better, but it’s so late, and the girls are trying to sleep, and we have to get up for church tomorrow…”

“Monica, it’s fine. I know. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” I looked around for my bag. “Tell him I’m on my way, and he’ll be able to sleep in his own bed tonight.”

“I will. See you in a few.”

“Bye.” I ended the call, set my phone on the dresser, and rubbed my face. “Fuck.”

“Bad news?”

I turned around and saw her sitting up in bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. “Yeah. I fucking forgot to pack the damn nightlight. He needs it to sleep.”

She nodded. “Poor little guy.”

“Jillian.” I sighed. I didn’t even have time to finish what we’d started, and my dick was at half-mast anyway. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK, Levi.”

“No, it’s not. But there isn’t anything I can do about it.” I spotted my bag on the floor near the foot of the bed and grabbed some clothes, throwing them on with jerky movements. “And I’m mad about this, so I feel even worse.”

“It’s OK to feel mad.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re mad at Scotty? Or yourself?”

I paused, buttoning up my shirt. “Both,” I admitted. “And I feel like the biggest asshole in the world for saying that, but I’m angry at both of us.”

“You’re not an asshole. You’re human.”

I tugged on socks and stepped into my shoes, bending to lace them up. “Well, I feel like an asshole, because even though part of me knows I deserve all the blame for this, and I should hug him and comfort him and tell him it’s all my fault, there’s another part of me that’s like
why can’t you just fucking fall asleep with the hall light on?
” I straightened up and shook my head. “But I know why he can’t.” I looked around for my coat. “And I’m frustrated that there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Well, maybe you could try doing the nightlight and the hall light for a while? Then do one or the other? So he gets comfortable with different things?”

“Maybe,” I said stiffly. I don’t know why her comment made me bristle a little. She was only trying to help. And she was a pediatrician, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like she didn’t have a clue about kids. But I was always irked when people who didn’t know Scotty tried to give me advice. “But I doubt it would work. He’s really set in his ways.”

“OK,” she said easily. “Sorry if I upset you.”

I hadn’t realized it was obvious I was bothered. Now I felt like an even bigger dick. “You didn’t. I’m sorry.” Softening my tone, I slung my bag over my shoulder and went to the side of the bed where she sat. “I’m just frustrated. For many reasons.”

She nodded slowly. “I get it.”

“Jillian.” Setting my bag down, I sat at her feet and put my hands on top of them. They were chilly, and I wanted nothing more than to get naked again, wrap myself around her, and tuck us in under the sheets. But that wasn’t an option. “I wanted to wake up with you so fucking badly.”

“Me too,” she said. “Next time.”

“Next time.” Was she wondering, like I was, when that would be? And if we’d actually get to see it through? I wanted to say
I promise
, but I couldn’t. I’d never be able to promise her anything. The weight of that reality made my limbs heavy and my chest ache.

“You better go.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and gave me a tiny smile. “He’s waiting for you. He needs his daddy.”

I nodded and said what I had to, even though I had to rip the raw words from my throat. “Jillian. I want you to give this some thought. These kinds of things…they’re going to happen. I can’t promise they won’t, and I can’t prevent them.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Listen to me. Please. I love you, but I will understand completely if you don’t want this in the morning.”

She looked at me for a moment, then got to her knees. Wrapping her arms around me, she laid her head on my shoulder. “I love you, too. And I don’t give up easily, Levi.”

I kissed the top of her head, love and gratitude for her swelling in my chest. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll call you tomorrow, OK?”

She sat back. “I’ll walk you out.”

After throwing on a robe, she saw me to the door and gave me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. When I tried to kiss her lips and linger there, she gave me a gentle shove on the chest and laughed. “You better go. Or I’ll never let you leave.”

One last kiss on her forehead and I went out the door.

On the way to my sister’s house, I kept thinking about her, about everything we’d done, everything we’d said, everything I felt. As amazing as the night had been, I didn’t want our relationship to be nothing but these short, intense bursts. I wanted more, but I didn’t know how to get it.

Yes, you do—you have to stop trying to be two people. You can’t be Dad here and Levi there and expect to keep everyone happy. You’re just going to end up feeling more guilty all the time. You have to bring her into your life as it exists, into Scotty’s life. You have to let her in.

I rubbed a hand over my beard, wondering if that was really the answer. Wasn’t it too soon to introduce her to my son? What if she got to know him and thought he was too much of a challenge? What if she didn’t understand him? What if she saw the way I had to live and realized she couldn’t handle it? Or thought I was dealing with him wrong, like my family sometimes said?

It’s too soon. I should wait.

For that matter, was it too soon to be so in love with her? Was there a schedule for these things? I was so used to doing things a certain way—my life at work and at home was governed by calendars, plans, lists, charts, deadlines, routines. I was an architect, for fuck’s sake. You don’t build a house without a foolproof design first. But…it felt liberating to have this other thing happening in my life, something impulsive and extraordinary, something instinctual and unstoppable. When I was with her, I felt so
alive
.

Yet it was frightening too. I’d never been in love like this before. Without experience or wisdom or a plan to guide me, how did I know if what I was doing was right for my son? Or for Jillian?

I was just feeling my way.

It was scary as fuck.

• • •

Scotty fell asleep briefly in the car on the way home, but he woke up when the car stopped and refused to go back to sleep in his bed, even though all his usual comforts were there. He’d gotten himself too worked up to feel calm, and I had to lie down with him in my bed with my arms wrapped around him like a baby simply to get him to stop moving. When his body and mind finally were settled, he played with my ear as he drifted off and I felt bad again for being angry about tonight. He didn’t ask that much of me, and he struggled to feel good about himself in so many ways. School this week had not gone well…he threw his pencil again during a math test, refused to do a writing assignment after getting frustrated with corrections, cried twice, and shut down once. He actually wet himself on Thursday morning (the day of the test) in an attempt to miss the bus, but I’d cleaned him up and driven him to school. He’d seemed happy enough at swim therapy and during dinner Friday evening, so I’d hoped Saturday night would be fine, but I’d been wrong.

You should have canceled tonight. You said you’d only do it if he had a good enough week, and you knew in your heart he hadn’t. You convinced yourself he’d be fine just so you could get what you wanted, and that’s fucking selfish and mean.

Fuck! My stomach churned.
Had
I been mean to make him sleep away from home so I could wake up with Jillian? Did it serve me right that it wouldn’t happen? Maybe this was the universe telling me to be thankful for what I had and not look for anything else.

I hoped not…I loved her. I needed her.

But maybe that was selfish too.

BOOK: Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3)
8.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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