Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3) (20 page)

BOOK: Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3)
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Her eyes stay locked on me as her hand moves down her body. Fisting my cock in my hand, I stroke slowly. Shelby’s fingers brush her clit, a moan escaping her lips. “Are you wet?” I ask slipping a finger inside her pussy.

“Yes,” she pants.

“That’s it, baby. Fuckin’ beautiful,” I say, watching her fingers move faster.

Unable to help myself, one finger becomes two. I pump them in and out of her while she rubs her clit. Her thighs tremble and she moans, saying how good my touch feels, begging for more. Removing my fingers, I slip them into my mouth, sucking them clean. “Mmm,” I moan, pulling them from my mouth.

“Ah,” she cries, arching her back.

“Watch me, Shelby,” I say, stroking my hardening cock. “Do you see what you do to me? Everything about you has me running around like a horny teen. I could stay buried in you twenty-four-seven.”

“I’m coming,” she cries, her fingers moving faster and faster. Dropping to my knees, I grip her inner thighs, and thrust my tongue inside her. “Fuck!” she cries. Her legs shake violently, but I don’t let up. The second her hand falls away, I latch onto her clit, flicking it with my tongue.

“Give me another one,” I growl against her skin, pumping my fingers into her pussy.

“Mitch!” Her hands grip my hair as I suck her clit. Every jolt of her body, as she cries out in pleasure, is torture; I need her now.

“I can’t wait,” I say, pushing to my feet. “There’s been a change in the program.”

“Thank fuck,” she pants.

Grabbing her ass with both hands, I slam her onto my throbbing dick. Her screams echo off the walls. The entire bed moves, slamming hard against the wall with every thrust. The wood creaks loudly and I have no doubt my neighbors will complain tomorrow about the noise, but I don’t give a damn.

Her pussy clamps down on me. It’s fucking fantastic. If there was even a shred of control left in me anywhere, it’s gone now. She explodes, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Harder, Mitch!” she cries. “Fuck, I’m coming!”

My right hand leaves her ass, going straight for her clit. Shelby shakes, mascara colored tears streaming down her face as her orgasm damn near cripples her. My balls tighten and with one last thrust, I find my release before collapsing onto her chest.

“Now,” I heave, trying to catch my breath, “that is how it’s done.”

After we catch our breath, I free Shelby from the restraints and we head into the bathroom to shower. I take my time washing her, touching and kissing her, enjoying every minute until the water starts running cold. By the time we fall into bed, my girl can barely keep her eyes open.

“If I can’t walk tomorrow,” she murmurs sleepily as she lies on my chest. “I’m calling in sick and telling Luke you fucked me to death.”

Brushing the damp hair from her face, I laugh. My chest shakes, making her roll her eyes. “Hey, asshole?” she asks, her eyes drifting closed.

“Yeah, smartass?” I ask, my fingers skimming her cheeks.

“I love you.”

Her words are almost too soft to hear, but even though I can’t make my voice say the words out loud, it doesn’t stop me from mouthing them back before I fall asleep myself.

***

The sun is setting. It’s been too long since I have simply sat and appreciated something so beautiful that happens every day. I sit in the rocking chair, looking out into the yard. A little girl, with blonde curls, is playing on a swing set, her little pink dress whipping back and forth the higher she goes. “Look at me!” she squeals, pumping her legs. “I’m gonna go straight to the moon, Daddy.”

Letting go of the chains, she leaps from the swing. I hold my breath, my heart stopping as she flies through the air. Her battered, bright green converses hit the dirt. A smile spreads across her face. “Did you see me, Daddy?” she shouts, holding up her hands.

“Hannah Elizabeth Taylor, what did I say about jumping from that swing set? You’re going to give your Daddy an aneurism.”

My eyes fly to the other side of the porch where Shelby steps out the front door and heads my way. Taking a sip from a beer bottle, she extends it to me. “Here, baby, looks like you need this more than I do. I’ve told her a hundred times; she’s going to end up with a full body cast on the first day of kindergarten if she keeps it up.”

“She’s stubborn,” I blurt, watching the little girl go right back for the swing, no doubt to do it again.

“Well,” Shelby laughs. Wrapping her arms around me, she settles in my lap. “What did you expect? She is our daughter.”

My eyes widen, my heart nearly bursting through my chest. Our daughter? Scanning the yard, I realize this isn’t my condo, or even Shelby’s house. Hell, we aren’t even in downtown Vegas anymore. Across the street is Luke’s house out in the ‘burbs and parked beside his beloved Barracuda is a minivan.

I shake my head in disbelief. What the hell is going on?

“You’re a husband and a father.” The voice grips my heart like a vise.

Becky.

Turning in my chair, I realize Shelby is gone now. Becky stands at the edge of the porch, holding the railing as she watches Hannah play in the yard. “She’s beautiful. The others will be too.”

“Others?”

“You always wanted to have a big family, Mitch.” Turning to face me, she smiles. “This is the life you could have, Sailor, if you want it. That little girl needs you, Shelby needs you.”

“I needed you,” I blurt, pushing to my feet. “All I needed was you and you left me. You didn’t even try to stay with me, did you? This could have been us. It should have been us.”

“Ssh,” she whispers, stepping closer to me. “It wasn’t meant to be us, baby. Our lives are all mapped out, Mitch. From the time we’re born we have an expiration date. We aren’t supposed to understand it, that’s not how it works. You have the chance to move on and be happy. Take it, Mitch. Grab onto it and don’t let go for anything.”

My eyes fly open. Leaping from the bed, I gasp for breath, taking in my surroundings. The light from the hallway partially illuminates the bedroom allowing me to see Shelby’s sleeping form in my bed.

“Just a dream,” I tell myself, trying to get a grip.

Walking into the bathroom, I pull on a pair of basketball shorts. Turning on the faucet, I splash cold water on my face to pull my focus back to now. I’m completely shaken. It’s been a while since I had a dream with Becky in it, but I have never had one this vivid. I can’t shake the chill left behind. Goosebumps cover my sweat covered skin and I feel completely knocked off balance.

Heading for the kitchen, I’m stopped when I hear a phone ringing. “Shit,” I say, grabbing for Shelby’s bag, knowing that her phone catches the overflow of shop calls. The chair shifts, causing the bag to tumble into the floor. Her phone skates across the wood flooring, but my eyes are locked on a book.

“It can’t be,” I say, bending down and picking up the leather bound journal. The ringing phone forgotten, I collapse to the chair. Clutching the book in my hands, I wish with everything in me that I am wrong, but I know I’m not. I’ve seen this damn book before.

Opening it to a page marked with a blank, pink sticky note, the breath rushes out of me.

The words leap from the page, each one a slap to the face. A betrayal that I never saw coming. I never wanted to see these fucking things again. After the funeral, I tossed them into the garbage before packing up and moving back here. How could she have gotten them?

A million questions run through my head, but those will have to wait. The only person who can answer them is asleep in my bed and I am not ready to hear the words leave her lips.

 

Chapter
Twenty-Two
Shelby

 

Rolling over, I reach out for Mitch only to find cold sheets. My body aches from over use, but it’s a delicious reminder of last night. Climbing from bed, I pad into the bathroom before going in search of Mitch.

“You’re up early,” I say, when I see the lamp on in the living room. I can’t see his entire body, the arm of the chair only allows me to see his face. The haunted expression I see is plenty enough to let me know something is wrong.

“Dream woke me up,” he replies coolly, not looking up at me.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I ask, not wanting him to shut me out again. I felt like we gained so much ground yesterday and last night, I don’t want to lose any of it.

“Your phone was ringing.”

“Oh,” I say rounding the chair for my bag. “I forgot to grab it after we got out of the shower. I bet it was for the shop.”

“It’s on the table,” he informs me, his tone icy. “Funny thing. I went to answer it and I found this.” Turning, I meet Mitch’s red-rimmed eyes. In his lap is Becky’s journal. “I have a million questions, but only one that really matters. Why?” he asks, emotion clogging his voice.

“Mitch,” I begin, trying to find the words to explain.

Tossing the book to the coffee table, he waves me off. “You know what, save it.” Pushing to his feet, he stares me down. “I have been sitting in that chair for hours, trying to figure out what I was gonna say to you, how I was going to handle this. But the thing is, it doesn’t really matter what I say, does it? You didn’t care enough about what I thought while you were reading it. The damage is already done and for once it isn’t me who has to live with the guilt.”

“Let me explain,” I plead, reaching for him.

“Did you find what you were looking for in the pages of my dead fiancé’s diary, sweetness?” he asks, angrily. “Did you learn all about the man who died while you were ripping out the heart of the man who lives in his place? While you were busy reading about the man who no longer exists, you lost the man who is standing right in front of you.”

“You ripped me to shreds that night!” I scream, unable to hold it in. “That night at Frank’s, I cried myself to sleep. No one gets that shit from me, Mitch! No one gets to cut me that deep, but you did. When Maddie showed up, I thought she was crazy for telling me to read those damn books. What the hell business of mine was it to know what Becky was thinking? I didn’t even know the woman. But something changed that. Becky changed that.” Tears run down my face as I step closer. Mitch’s face is unwavering, giving nothing away. Reaching out, I grab his hand. He doesn’t fight me, but he also doesn’t meet my eyes. “Reading her words, how she felt about you, knowing that I feel the same, made me feel close to you. I wanted you and you walked away from me. At the time, I thought it was all I’d get of you; it may have been selfish, but I couldn’t give up the only part of you I thought I’d ever have. When you came back to me, I had read most of them already and it felt like I knew her. I kept reading her story because some part of me felt I couldn’t close the book and leave it unfinished. There are parts of you that you say are gone, but I’ve seen them. I see those parts of you that Becky loved so much. They’re still there because I love them too. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about them, I should have that very day, but you were so cold to me. You shut me out and I just…I didn’t know how.”

“You didn’t even try,” he grounds out, jerking his hand away. “Those weren’t meant to be seen by anyone. I threw them out.”

“You threw everything of hers out, according to Maddie. Everything, except the truck,” I snap. “Instead of dealing with your grief, you decided to get rid of every reminder of her and never deal with any of it. Now, your past is crashing into your chance of a future with me and you can’t handle it. You’re using this as an excuse to push me out.”

“There’s no future here. It was all a lie.”

“Mitch…” My heart sinks in my chest. His eyes lose focus. Mitch is no longer looking at me, he’s looking through me.

“Get out, Shelby.” The finality in his voice is crippling.

“We need to talk about this,” I say, hoping to reach him. “What we have isn’t something you just throw away.”

“You should have thought about that then, shouldn’t you?” he roars when I don’t move. “You’ve ripped my fucking heart out. We’re done. I don’t want to see you anymore. I don’t even want to goddamn know you.”

Not wanting to stay here a minute longer, I grab my shoes and my bag. Turning, I see Mitch standing at the door, holding it open for me. I can see the tears in his eyes, the pain, as he looks anywhere but at me. “I hope you know what you’re giving up,” I say, making my way past him.

The door slams behind me, making me jump. The sound rattles throughout my entire body as I make my way down the walk. After seeing the parts of Mitch’s heart he keeps hidden, the coldness he just showed me couldn’t hurt worse if he’d tore my heart from my chest and stomped on it. Climbing in my car, I toss everything into the passenger seat and start digging for my keys. How in the hell did everything go so wrong so fast?

I know I messed up. Yes, I should have told Mitch about the diaries instead of hiding them. Things like this always come out. Sure, I can blame Maddie all I want for being a nosy twat, but her crimes don’t absolve me in the slightest. I did the last thing I ever wanted to do, I hurt him. He feels betrayed; sure, I see why he feels that way. I can’t change what I did, just like he can’t change how many times he pushed me away before.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I sob into my hands. Was I so blind to think Mitch and I could have any future when he has never dealt with his past? He’s right. There is no future for us if he can’t face his past. “No!” I scream, staring up at myself in the rearview mirror. “No crying! Stop it! You fucking baby! Just stop it!” I shout, wanting to punch myself in the face for letting myself fall apart like this.

I start the car, wanting nothing more than a sick day and my own bed. Pulling out, I speed through the lot, wiping the tears from my eyes. The stop light at the end of the road turns green and I pull out into traffic. I never saw the truck coming until it broadsided me. Gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life, I scream. Tires screech, metal crunches and glass shatters all around me. I feel fear then excruciating pain, then everything goes black.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three
Mitch

 

“Is this what you meant, Beck?” I scream storming through the house and grabbing her journal from the table. Throwing it against the wall, I laugh. “Isn’t this a fucking riot? How about you come down here in a nice little dream and explain this one to me, huh? Why would God give this to me for a minute only to take it away again? How am I supposed to see her every day? Sadistic fucking bastard!”

BOOK: Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3)
8.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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