Beauty from Pain (30 page)

She’s staring at me. “I highly doubt
that.”

I can’t talk to her about this right now. I’m
too furious. I start the car and drive to the house in silence. I’m
pissed off. She’s scared and confused. Not a great
combination.

Neither of us says anything when we get to the
house. She walks inside and goes straight to the bedroom. I go to
the kitchen and search the freezer. I don’t find frozen peas, so I
wrap ice in a dish towel and put it around my swollen hand. It
hurts like hell, but I don’t regret hitting that asshole. I’d do it
again in a heartbeat.

I calm down after I stand in the kitchen for a
while. I decide I owe her an explanation, so I go into the bedroom
to find her. She’s wearing her nightgown and standing in front of
the sink washing her face. She watches me in the mirror as I come
up to stand behind her.

I put the dishcloth-wrapped ice on the counter
before I place my hands on her upper arms and kiss one of her bare
shoulders. She reaches up to touch my injured hand. “You’re
bleeding. You need to clean this so it doesn’t get
infected.”

She takes my hand. “Is there any antiseptic
here? Or maybe some triple antibiotic ointment?”

I’m rarely here, so I don’t make a habit of
keeping stuff like that around. “I doubt it.”

She brings it closer for a better inspection.
“You should at least wash it with soap and water.”

She
cuts
on the water and soaps a lather
onto her fingers. She washes my knuckles until the dried blood is
gone and then blots it dry. “I’m afraid you’re going to owe your
boss some new towels.”

“
He’ll get over it.”

She’s still holding my hand when she looks up
at me. “Tell me what happened.”

I focus on her eyes as I remember his words,
“I’d really like to fuck her.” The thought of anyone else having
her makes me crazy.

I reach out to hold her face. I lean forward
and kiss her, not knowing if she will let me or not, but she does.
When I finish, I take her hand and pull her into the bedroom toward
the bed. I sit on the edge and pull her hips toward me so she’s
standing between my legs. Her fingers play in my tousled
hair.

“
I want to know.”

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly.
“That guy, Chris, told me he wanted something of mine—something I
wasn’t willing to share.”

“
I don’t understand.”

“
You. He wanted you.”

“
Me? But he’s married.”

It makes me sick that I can’t say it without
picturing it in my head. “He asked me to watch him fuck you while
his wife gave me head.”

Her eyes are wide. “Oh?” I see it on her face
when it clicks. “Ohh. Swingers?”

“
Exactly.”

“
You pounded his face in because
he wanted to have sex with me?”

“
I damn sure did and I’d do it …”
She cuts off my words with her mouth as she slams it against mine.
Her hands are at my chest working to unfasten the buttons of my
wined-stained shirt. Unsatisfied with such slow progress, she
reaches for the bottom and pulls it over my head while it’s still
buttoned.

She unfastens my belt buckle and then the
button on my pants, this time more successful with the process. She
slides my zipper down and puts her hand inside my jocks. Her hand
encompasses me as she glides it up and down. Damn, this girl knows
how to give a hand job.

She kisses me hard while her hand pumps me.
I’m close to coming, but she doesn’t let me. “Where are the
condoms?”

“
Outer pocket, big
suitcase.”

She kisses my mouth. “Don’t go
anywhere.”

Hell, there’s no chance of
that.
I stand and kick off my daks and
jocks while she’s digging for the rubbers.

She slinks toward me flipping a foil package
between two fingers. She uses her palms to push me down on the bed.
“I’m putting it on this time.”

“
No argument here,
baby.”

She opens the packet and I’m such a guy. I
lift my head because I want to watch her put it on me. It’s hot
watching her hands touch me like that. When she finishes, she
shimmies her panties down her legs and steps out of them. She
climbs one knee at a time onto the bed and straddles me. My hands
are splayed over her hips as she watches my face. “So, you don’t
want Swinger Chris to have me?”

Ugh, I need that image out of my head. “No
fucking way.”

My tip is at her wet entrance, but she doesn’t
slide down on it. She’s rocking her hips back and forth, teasing
me. “Can anyone else have me, or is Swinger Chris the only one who
can’t?”

“
No one else can have you,
Laurelyn. I’m the only one.”

She smiles. “Then show me.”

35

Laurelyn Prescott

Lachlan comes up from the bed and flips me onto
my back. He’s kneeling between my legs and hooks them around his
arms so he can push them back. He’s not gentle about it. He drives
into me without mercy, but that’s the way I want this. His mouth is
against my ear.

“
You’re mine. Do you
understand?”

“
Yes!” I scream partly because
it’s my answer, but mostly because what he’s doing feels so
good.

“
I want you to say it.”

We’re sideways on the bed and each thrust
shoves me farther across the mattress until my head is hanging off
the edge. “I’m … yours … and … no … one … else’s.”

He releases one of my legs and his hand slides
down so his fingers can stroke me above our point of fusion. “No
one else touches you here like this.”

I’m panting as I lift my hips against him and
his fingers. “Only you, Lachlan.”

He hits my sweet spot perfectly and I feel
myself contract around him, detonating his orgasm. I feel like
screaming at the top of my lungs, so I do because no one’s around
to hear me. “Ah, ah!”

“
Ah,
Laurelyn.”
There’s my name, just like
always when he comes.

He rolls off me and collapses onto the bed. My
head is still dangling off the side so I scoot back onto the
mattress. I’m on my back and I stare up at the beautiful sheer
panels draped over the canopy above us with one thought—this bed
was meant for making love, but that isn’t what we just did. It
never is.

–––––

The bedroom fills with bright sunlight despite the
curtains. I smell breakfast—definitely bacon—maybe pancakes. I’m
hungry, but I’m sleepier, so I pull the sheet up over my head. It
was a late night.

I get a few more minutes’ sleep before I feel
Lachlan reach under the sheet to tickle my nose. I wiggle it to
relieve the need to scratch, but give in and reach under the covers
and rake my nails across it. “I thought you got to sleep in on
vacation.”

“
This isn’t vacation for me. It’s
work and I have to leave soon, but I wanted to have brekkie with
you for your birthday.”

How does he know?
I lift the covers to see him. He’s grinning
because he’s so proud of himself. “How did you know it’s my
birthday?”

“
You told me on our second
date.”

“
I don’t remember
that.”

“
Well, you did, and I remembered,
so get up for your birthday breakfast.”

I can’t believe he remembered. He has such an
eye for detail. Did he tell me when his birthday is? If he did, I
forgot.

I walk into the kitchen and there is a huge
breakfast buffet across the counter. There’s no way we could eat
all of it. “Did you do all of this?”

“
Would you think less of it if I
didn’t?”

“
No.”

“
I had it catered from one of the
local restaurants.”

“
It smells delicious.”

He passes a plate to me. “Birthday girl goes
first.”

While I’m plating my food, he pours me a glass
of juice. He puts it on the dining room table and then joins me
with a mile-high stack of pancakes. “Hungry much?”

“
I had a
famishing night, but I always eat this much in the morning. You’d
know that if you were ever awake to join me for breakfast.”
He’s never going to stop teasing me about being a
late sleeper.

“
How’s the hand today?”

He holds it up to make a fist and then
releases it. “It hurts, but I can move it, so it’s not
broken.”

“
No one’s ever done anything like
that for me.”

“
Anytime, babe.”

When I finish, I slide my plate away because
I’m stuffed. “That was wonderful. Thank you. It was a thoughtful
gift to wake up to.”

“
The food isn’t your gift.” He
reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black velvet jewelry box.
He puts it on the table and slides it to me. “But this
is.”

I’m not fool enough to think, or hope, this
little box contains a ring. I know it doesn’t because that would be
ridiculous, but it definitely contains a piece of
jewelry.

I reach for it and flip the top open. Inside
is a star-shaped pendant covered in what I assume are diamonds. “I
chose it because you’re going to become a huge superstar after you
get home.”

It’s the best birthday present ever. And the
worst.

It’s the best because it’s so encouraging and
thoughtful. It’s the worst because it means that when he’s telling
me I’m his, he leaves off the part about it only being for the next
six weeks.

“
You don’t like it?”

I force a smile. “It’s perfect and I love it.
Thank you.”

I take it out of the box and pass it to him.
“Will you?” I turn and lift my hair so he can put it on me. After
he closes the clasp, he kisses the back of my neck.

“
I wish I could stay with you all
day.”

I turn around and touch the pendant with my
fingertip. “Me too.”

He smiles as he admires his gift around my
neck. “I’ll try to get back early.”

“
Early or late, either way, I’ll
be here.”

“
I still don’t want you to go into
the water without me.”

“
Ugh! There’s a country song
called ‘Don’t Go Near the Water.’ Now it’s going to be stuck in my
head all day and I hate that freakin’ song. Thanks a lot,
slick.”

He kisses the top of my head. “Don’t know it,
but you can thank me every time you catch yourself singing
it.”

He’s wearing a suit today. Damn, he’s hot in
it—scorching hot. He’s standing over me and I grab the lapels of
his jacket to pull him down for a kiss. The peck he gave me on top
of my head wasn’t near enough to do me all day. When I let him go,
I tell him, “That’s your incentive to work fast so you can leave
early and come back to me.”

–––––

I spend the day reading on the beach, not swimming in
the water, although it’s hot as hell. It’s midafternoon and I
decide to take a break from the sweltering heat, so I go into the
house for a snack and some air conditioning.

I’m sitting at the dining room table having
some leftover fruit from my birthday breakfast when my personal
phone rings. It’s my mom, no doubt calling to wish me a happy
birthday.

“
Hey, Mom.”

“
Happy birthday, baby
girl.”

“
Thank you.”

“
Are you having a good
one?”

“
The best.” And it is. I’m staying
at a house on a private beach in New Zealand with a beautiful man I
can’t get enough of. Nothing beats this.

“
Well, I’ve got some news that’s
going to make it even better.”

Her idea of good news and my idea aren’t
always the same. “What is it?”

“
It’s your dad. He came to see me,
baby. He wants to meet you.”

This is a perfect example of when our ideas of
good news are on two different spectrums. “Why?”

“
Because you’re his
daughter.”

I would’ve given anything to hear those words
when I was a child. All I wanted was for my rich and famous father
to rescue me from her when I was surviving off tap water and moldy
bread because she was too strung out to go to the grocery store. I
prayed he’d come and save me, but he didn’t. “He hasn’t wanted me
as his daughter for twenty-three years, and he doesn’t get to
change his mind now because the only child he claimed is
dead.”

“
It’s not like that,
Laurie.”

“
It is like that, Mom. I’ve been
his dirty little secret all these years. At least have the balls to
be honest about it.” I don’t know the exact moment the tears start,
but I can’t stop them once they begin. The more I try to hold them
in, the harder they come. “He’s pretended I didn’t exist my whole
life and the only reason he wants me now is because he has no other
children left.”

I’m shocked to feel warm arms
around me as Lachlan takes the phone from my hand.
When did he get back?
“I’m sorry. Laurelyn will have to call you back
later.”