All I Want (14 page)

Easily

Sean woke up first, saw Carly was still fast asleep, and made his way to the shower. Though he was used to and liked having a master bath, going down the hall to the bathroom at Carly’s wasn’t a hardship either. This way he didn’t have to worry about making too much noise and waking her.

Of course, he shouldn’t be complaining. Growing up, he’d had to share the bath with everyone. There was one full bath in the house that had been handed down through generations, just like the pub. The half bath downstairs didn’t really serve much purpose.

He probably should have considered himself lucky that his sisters were all pretty much out of the house by the time he got to junior high. By then it was just his parents and him vying for bathroom time in the morning. Well, his mother and him, as his father was normally just waking up when he was getting ready to leave, having worked late most of the nights.

Finished with his shower, Sean headed for the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot and then filled the kettle with water. By now he knew she’d rather drink tea. He’d seen her with coffee a few times, but it wasn’t what she drank first thing in the morning. Or often at all.

Rummaging around in the refrigerator, he pulled out eggs, mushrooms and peppers, and some cheese with omelets on his mind. Even though he was often quiet when he woke up, Carly always seemed to appear within thirty minutes of him. Almost like she knew he got up but just waited until he was done in order to stay out of his way.

He wasn’t sure why she did that. He’d asked once and explained they could get ready together, but she said it was fine. It was like she was hesitant to annoy him in the morning for some reason.

He knew he wasn’t always the most chipper of people before his shower, mainly because his family had told him that often, but he didn’t think he was moody either. He just tended to grunt a bit before he woke up fully, but then he was fine.

Except for the one morning he woke up and found her draped over his chest. That morning he wasn’t grumpy, and he was sure she agreed because her hand roaming over his chest wiped out any thoughts of tiredness. More so when her hand slid down his waist and into his boxers. That morning was probably the first time he could remember not waking grumpy or wishing for his first cup of coffee.

Maybe he should remind her of that the next time she said she would stay out of his way. He’d bet he could convince her to hop in the shower with him.

Just as he expected, Carly walked into the kitchen, showered and dressed, as he was sliding the omelets onto plates. “The water is ready; what kind of tea do you want this morning?” She had a drawer full of multiple flavors and he never knew what she was going to drink.

“Anything is good. This smells wonderful. I could get used to this,” she said, taking the mug from him with a tea bag hanging out.

“What’s that?” he asked, his eyes watching her, the gentle smile on her face, the joy evident over a simple breakfast.

“You waiting on me.” She giggled and then blushed, giving him the impression she wished she’d never said it.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her forward and placed a kiss on her lips. “You know what?”

“What?” she asked softly, hesitantly, looking anxious.

“I could too.”

***

Hours later, Carly was folding laundry, including the white sheet she’d found and tied around Sean as his toga. She remembered how he laughed hysterically two days ago when she brought it down and told him he had to put it on if he wanted to hand out candy to the kids.

She’d seen him eye her warily until he realized she was serious. She knew he wanted to hand the candy out. He’d been talking about it for weeks since they’d carved the pumpkins together. In her mind, it was the toga or nothing. Her house, her rules. After all, it was one of her favorite holidays.

Never would she have thought she’d have so much fun doing something so simple with a man. But he just made her laugh, he made her feel good, and he made her want everything she’d fought so hard to hold back in the last few months.

That prize in the window she’d been dreaming about for years. The man that would hold her and tell her she was the one. The person she could see herself with; someone to come home to at night, hold her during a bad day and have children with.

She wanted children so badly, and she was more than thrilled he liked kids. They hadn’t had any discussions about the future. She really didn’t know where he stood in terms of marriage and fatherhood, but she was pretty positive he was good with it all.

Seriously, anyone who sent nice little bags of candy with small gift cards in them for all his nieces and nephews had to want to have his own children, right?

She just needed to get past some doubts about her heritage first. The genetics of her parents, those bad seeds she often wondered if she carried inside of her that were just repressed.

She knew beyond a doubt she was falling in love with Sean Callahan, but she wasn’t sure what to say and where to go with it. Always one for holding her cards close to her chest, she was starting to wonder if maybe she should show them a little.

Another thing that had her thinking of him and family was his comment on her Dorothy costume Halloween night. “You should have asked Brynn if you could’ve borrowed Droopy for the day to play Toto.”

She’d actually considered doing that and was stunned that he’d thought the same thing. “I didn’t think they’d want to give their baby up for a night if they didn’t have to.”

“You’re probably right. Brynn gets all paranoid when she comes back from an appointment and can’t find Droopy in the office. He’s normally with Phil or me. She won’t admit it, but she’s jealous he won’t stay in her and Alec’s office without them.”

“Does he bother you, coming to your office?” she’d asked. She wasn’t sure what made her ask that. She’d seen how much he liked Droopy and how good he was with him.

“Nah. I like having him around. Almost like having a kid you’re babysitting. It’s like watching my nephew, filling him full of treats and sending him back to his mom all sugared up.”

“Do you really do that with your nephew?”

“Absolutely. That’s the best part of being the favorite uncle,” he’d said.

“Better watch out. I’m sure your sisters will get even with you someday.” She’d held her breath when she made that comment, waiting to see what his reaction would be. She was still looking for something that didn’t make him seem so perfect in her eyes.

“I fully expect it, and twenty times worse with my kids.” Good, she felt better hearing that.

Sean brought her back to the present when he asked suddenly, “Hey, where are you putting my Halloween costume?”

“I’m putting my sheet back in the linen closet where it belongs.”

He walked over, took it out of her hand and brought it to the bottom of the stairs, placing it on the banister. “It belongs at my house. That’s my costume, so you can’t get rid of it. I might want to wear it again next year handing out candy.”

She eyed him suspiciously, not sure where to go with this conversation. Was he trying to say he wanted to be here next year? Was he even thinking that? Was she overthinking things like she always did? “If you plan on handing out candy here next year then you need a new costume. You can’t wear the same one two years in a row.”

He frowned, wrinkled his nose, and said, “Where did you think I was planning on handing out candy? Not at my place. You are such a taskmaster, Ms. Springfield. Fine, you can make me a costume for next year, how’s that? Something manly though.”

She stood up from where she was folding her laundry, walked over to where he’d sat down in her chair just now and climbed into his lap. Hugging him, she placed a kiss on his lips.

“What’s that for?” he asked, squeezing her tight, then releasing the hug, but not letting her go.

“No reason.”

“Carly, tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It is. Don’t make me force it out of you,” he said, his tone serious.

She froze. She was pretty positive she paled on top of it. What did he mean by that statement? She started to move to get up, but he wasn’t letting her go. He wasn’t being firm, but his arms were still around her.

“Stop wiggling.”

Was that laughter in his voice? She thought it was but couldn’t be sure. She was just too cold right now trying to figure out what he meant by his last statement. “I need to finish folding the laundry.”

“Not until you tell me what is going on in your mind.”

“Nothing,” she said again.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, his eyes looking into hers, watching her cautiously. “You’re giving me no choice.”

He squeezed her waist for a second, she screamed and he did it again, then he grabbed her knee and another sound came out. Suddenly she realized she was laughing hysterically. Her screams were that of laughter, he was tickling her, so much so she was actually shrieking and trying to get up, but he wasn’t letting her. “I can keep this up all day long,” he said, roaring with his own laughter. “Just ask my niece, Ally. I tickled her so long she couldn’t get her breath until she told me what I wanted to know.”

Carly believed it, because Sean wasn’t letting up. She was actually laughing so hard she was gasping for air. What a feeling—there was pain right now, but not a bad kind. Just an annoying one that he wouldn’t stop and was making her laugh so much that her sides were hurting as she tried to suck in air. “It made me happy,” she screamed out as he squeezed her knee again. If he didn’t stop soon, she was afraid she was going to start crying, or maybe she already was. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard she cried.

“What made you happy?”

He somehow moved his hand and grabbed her foot. Oh man, it was horrible. He had her foot in his hand and found the right spot and she couldn’t sit still. He was rubbing his knuckles on her arch and she was dying. His wasn’t playing fair, but not in a bad way either. “That you thought…” She hiccupped. Great now she had the hiccups she was laughing and crying so hard.

“I thought what?” He was digging deeper into her heel now and her elbow connected with his stomach, causing him to grunt. Good, serves him right.

“Happy that you thought you’d be here next Halloween,” she screamed out when he moved his hand to the back of her knee now. He stopped finally, and she sucked in a deep breath. “That was low,” she accused him.

His eyes searched hers some more, looking deeper into hers than she would have expected. “You do something to me, Carly. Something I haven’t felt before. Something I’ve always wanted to feel but wasn’t sure I would. So yeah, I see myself with you a year from now. Easily.”

“Me too,” she said, pulling his head down and kissing him. Holding on tighter than when he was tickling her moments ago. And any little doubt she might have had about being in love with him was gone, right in that moment.

Honest

Sean pulled his mouth away from Carly’s, stood up with her cradled in his arms and walked up the stairs to her bedroom. Laying her on the bed carefully, he stood back and just looked at her there. So small, so precious—and his. All his. He always wondered what it would feel like to find that and know it. He did at that moment, knew one hundred percent she was for him.

“What do you want?” she asked him, watching as he just gazed at her.

“You. All I want is you.” He shifted back to the bed and helped undress her fast, stealing quick kisses in-between. He’d had every intention of going slow, showing her what she meant to him. He’d been startled at how white her completion had gotten when he’d warned her not to make him force the words from her. He had no idea what caused that reaction but guessed there was something bad in her past.

He wasn’t stupid, he’d seen the fear in her eyes and it killed him that he put it there. Except he didn’t understand it. So he tickled her longer than he had originally planned. He had to make her laugh. He wanted her to know he was only joking.

Then afterward, what she said, what she had been afraid to say, because he’d seen that too—her hedging over her words. Well, those words about her being happy that he was already planning on being with her a year from now, those words started the butterflies swarming in his stomach again, except this time he wasn’t able to stop their flight.

No, he had to say something. Even if it was just a glimpse of what he was feeling. The emotions and the tightness in his chest were so deep, so great that he had to let some of it out. He had to give her something, a clue, a hint, a few words about how he felt. What he was feeling.

Once he did it, he held on to the hope she took them to heart, that she believed what he said. And she did; he could see it. He could almost feel it radiating off of her—the joy of knowing—or thinking—maybe they both felt the same way.

So he wanted to go slow and steady with her. Cherish her. Show her how much she meant to him. Show her how much he felt himself sliding into love with her, except her eyes staring back at him were his undoing.

Those pools of light brown, almost golden when she was aroused, burned a hole through his chest. Making those butterflies want to fly faster and burst free, to the point they were suffocating him.

He meant it when he said all he wanted was her. It was the truth, more than he cared to voice really. The words came out without thought, without meaning, and yet he meant every single one.

It was her. Only her. All of her. Every part of her. And though he wanted to go slow and savor her, care for her, cherish her, he couldn’t.

Their clothes couldn’t be shed fast enough. Quick kisses, on her lips, her chest, her shoulders, her waist. Every piece of clothing he removed, frantic to touch and taste her skin.

She must have felt the same way, because her hands were just as urgent as his. In her haste, he heard a button pop and swore it flew by his face, but she continued on unfazed.

Grabbing his face, she pulled him back to the bed. “Love me. Don’t stop. Just love me like you always do when we’re here.”

He didn’t think she meant it the way he took it, the way he wanted her to say it, or even mean it. “Always. I always do and always will.”

Kissing her long and deep, he didn’t want to see her face, didn’t want to see if she took his meaning a different way. So instead, he showed her what he was feeling. What he wanted her to feel.

His hands moved over her shoulders, down her arms. A caress more than a touch and those butterflies in his stomach and chest started to control the show, control his movements.

Fingertips grazing her waist, up her ribs, over her breasts, his mouth following suit. Tasting her, pulling her between his lips. So small, so firm and all his again. He liked her size, he liked how small she was and how it made him feel so strong and powerful around her.

He’d never felt strong before around a woman, but Carly made him feel that way. She let him be who he was, didn’t tell him to be otherwise, didn’t instruct him on what he should or shouldn’t do. Let him be the man he’d fought so hard to be.

With his teeth he tugged on her more, heard her moan when she arched her back up pressing into his length. He had to feel all of her, but wanted to wait, wanted to make her beg.

Moving down her waist, around her belly button—it was just so cute and it begged the same attention as the rest of her. In and out and around, until he moved on to his next target. Between her legs, he tasted and touched.

Spreading her legs wide, he slid between them and went to work. All around, he tasted her essence, craved it, to be exact. She was wiggling and squirming and wouldn’t stay still.

“Sean,” she said with a little whimper, and it was music to his ears.

He wanted to hear it again, only louder and more. He wanted her to shout it. Shout out his name and make him feel alive. Applying more pressure with his mouth, his tongue moved up and down and inside of her. He nibbled at the little bud of pleasure that always sent her soaring. She was there, right there, he knew.

One, then two fingers in and nibbling a bit more, then she was shouting his name exactly as he hoped. Continuing on and on until she could do nothing more than lie there limply.

Reaching over, he grabbed a condom from her bedside table and hurriedly put it on. He had to be inside of her now. He had to feel her; every part of her had to be holding him tight, making them feel as one.

His eyes all but rolled in his head at the feel of her muscles as they surrounded him, still pulsing from moments ago. But he wanted to feel them again, more forceful this time, squeezing him tighter.

He shifted his hips, sending himself deeper inside of her, heard her moan, and felt her tense around him. Quickly he grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist, lifted up to his knees, and had her in front of him.

She was so tight and he was so deep like this. He could tell she felt unsteady, but he wasn’t stopping, not when it felt so good. “Put your arms around me; don’t let go. I won’t drop you.”

“I can’t move much this way.”

“Don’t worry, I can. Just hang on and enjoy it.” So she did. She held on, her legs tightening even more around his, squeezing his hips, her arms around his neck. Then his hips just started to move. Short bursts in deep, then out, deeper yet, rubbing against her.

She was cresting, he knew, so he kept it up and prayed he could continue on enough to get her there. He wanted them there together. It had to be together in his mind.

“Don’t you dare stop what you’re doing,” she commanded him. If he weren’t so aroused he’d laugh. For such a shy person, when she was in the bedroom she had no problem telling him what to do and what she wanted, even if she tried to stop herself from voicing it.

“I have no intention of stopping.”

“Hurry up,” she all but shouted at him. He would have laughed at that too, only it wasn’t funny. So he did what she demanded, smothering her cry with his mouth as he felt everything burst within her.

Seconds later, he laid her back on the bed softly and climbed off, then walked to the bathroom. Running water over his face, he tried to get some composure. No matter how hard he scrubbed his hands back and forth across his mouth and nose it didn’t matter—he was lost. There was no wiping away anything. Least of all what just happened now, or what he was feeling inside.

Making his way back to her room, he found her still lying on the bed with a dazed look in her eyes. He’d put that there and he was proud of it.

Pulling the covers back, he crawled in, and urged her next to him, then on his chest. Running his hand over her head, he gave her a kiss and held her tight.

She murmured softly, like she was going to say something, but stopped herself. “Say it,” he encouraged her.

“What?” she asked, lifting her head up and looking at him.

“Say what you were going to say. Say what I want to hear,” he amended. Maybe if she saw he was eager, she wouldn’t back down.

Her eyes moved over his face, then settled on his eyes, staring long and deep. He held his breath and she finally said, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

His arm tightened on her waist some more. Then he smiled. She looked so vulnerable right now looking at him. So afraid of what she just said and he didn’t want her to feel that way. Not one bit. “You think? That’s too bad.”

“Why’s that?” she asked. Her expression hadn’t changed, but he was smiling at her.

“Because I
know
I’m in love with you. Maybe you’d better catch up.”

Her eyes watered, but he wasn’t concerned. He’d been around enough women to know they weren’t sad tears. “I know it too. I’ve been waiting for
you
to catch up,” she said, laughing and kissing him quickly on the lips.

“Ah, so you lied to me just now, saying you only thought it. Didn’t your teachers ever tell you it’s not polite to lie?”

She giggled and it was a sweet sound, a nice sound, and one he wanted to hear more of. “You’re right. I sort of lied, but not really. Either way, it’s not polite. So I’ll be honest: I love you, Sean.”

“I love you, too, Ms. Springfield.”