Page 55 of Wrapped in Hope
She nods slowly. “I was walking out Gary and Lisa. I saw you kiss her. She’s the one you’ve been seeing?”
Fuck. I run my hands through my hair as I take a deep breath. I nod, unable to find the words.
“How could you do this? She is twenty years younger than you! She was our dead son’s girlfriend for God’s sake!”
I fall into the kitchen chair. “I know. I’m fucking sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“When did this happen?” Her voice is shaking, full of anger.
“I told you when I started seeing her. I ran into her at group,” I answer.
She lets out a bitter laugh. “You disgust me. How could you even dream of touching her? Our son was in love with her, and she was in love with him. You’re dishonoring his memory. Do you know what Gary and Lisa are going to say?” Her eyes grow wide with that question.
I look up at her quickly. “Did they see?”
“Of course not. I stopped them from going outside when I saw what was going on out there. You’re a pervert!”
Relief washes over me. “I’m fucking sorry, Jane. This wasn’t planned. She was all I had. You refused to get better. I didn’t have anyone here for me for five fucking years. We were both alone and hurting.”
She rolls her eyes as she wipes her tears. “Did you ever touch her before Dean passed away?”
My eyes nearly bug from my skull. “No! Of course not!”
“But you thought about it, didn’t you?” Her voice is full of malice as she nearly snarls.
I don’t answer her. I can’t. I can’t lie, she’s already told me she seen the exchange back then.
She lets out a loud laugh. “Oh my God.”
I look at my feet. “I’m sorry, Jane. I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“That night, after the pool party, we came back here and we made love. Only it was different. You were so intense that night. You were thinking about her, weren’t you?”
I stand. “This is ridiculous. I’m not talking about this.”
But she knows the truth. “I don’t ever want to see you again. I’ll pack the rest of the house myself. I’ll be leaving in a week. You can come get the rest after I’ve gone.” She nods toward the door. “Now please leave.”
“Jane,” I breathe out, but she doesn’t want to hear it and I don’t blame her one bit. What I’ve done, it’s wrong. I never should have allowed myself to touch her, no matter how it feels when we connect.
“Please! Just go!” She walks into the living room and down the hall into her bedroom. I hear her door close quietly.
Feeling like a piece of shit, I walk out, leaving her hurting and not understanding a damn thing. It’s not something I can explain though. I can’t even explain it to myself. I can only feel it, and it feels so fucking right. My heart skips a beat when she looks into my eyes. Every muscle in my body tightens with anticipation, waiting for her touch, even just a brush of her hand on my arm is something I long for. I know it’s wrong, but goddamn it, it’s perfect. She’s perfect. And she’s mine. I’m done trying to deny what I feel for her.
I don’t waste any time in driving straight to the city. The whole time, I can only think of her: her touch, her taste, her smell. She’s what I want, what I crave and long for.
I knock on her door and she answers, still in the white dress she wore to the cemetery, the one that makes her look like a beautiful angel that fell in love with the devil himself.
“Fuck, Hope.” My hands reach for her, landing on either side of her face as I pull her in for a kiss. Automatically, her legs wrap around me while I carry her off to her room.
I kick the door closed behind us and we fall onto her bed. “You’re so fucking beautiful in this dress. Like my own perfect, little angel,” I say pulling my shirt off as she starts to wiggle out of her dress.
I watch as she strips down to nothing but white, lace panties. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” I ask when her hands find my belt. Already, I’m straining against my dress pants. “Do you know how badly I wanted to bend you over in front of me today? You’re so fucking perfect.” My lips find hers as she pulls me down on top of her. Her hands still pushing my pants and boxers over my hips.
I place myself at her entrance and push forward, making her arch her back and call out.
I pull out slowly. “You’re a beautiful angel that was put on this Earth for the devil himself,” I say before thrusting back into her.
Her eyes lock on mine. “You’re not the devil, Holden. You’re just a man who found love. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She pushes against me until I roll us over so she can ride every last inch of my aching dick.
Watching her move up and down my length is breathtaking. Her full chest bounces with her movements, her head dips back and her lips part with her heavy breathing, clearly enjoying my body as much as I enjoy hers.
When she begins riding me even faster, I find myself digging my fingertips into her hips, desperately trying to hold on for dear life. I’ve never felt this way before.
Ever.
She consumes me in every way possible. She owns my head, my heart, my whole body. And I’ll gladly give myself to her in any way she wants.