Come to Me Recklessly (30 page)

“Yeah… yes… you.” It was a jumble of words, all of them for me, this girl mine.

My hips rocked out and this time I slammed back into her.

The force pushed her back toward the counter, and she cried out, then she met me, pushing back. Our bodies colliding. Heaving. This surging mess of limbs and bodies.

She was panting, struggling.

Struggling just as much as me.

Her gaze latched onto mine, that storm of emotions that sucked me right under.

Pulling me deep.

Deeper.

Until I was sure I would drown.

I’d thought this would be playful. But I should’ve known better. Should’ve known the way this girl affected me.

We were nothing but liquid steel, melding, blending, one, when Samantha cried out again. She shattered all around me, her trembling body held firm in my arms. She dragged me right with her. The back of my thighs tightened. Pleasure ripped through every one of my nerves.

I shouted her name as I came. All this bliss pouring free.

I gasped for air, drawing it into my vacant lungs. Samantha had her face buried in my chest, doing the same, her fingers still planted deep in my shoulders.

My fingers rushed through her hair, and I kissed her temple, my exhale heavy and relieved as I whispered at her skin, “Samantha… my sweet, good girl.”

She giggled a little, though it was all breathy, and she pulled back to look at my face. She scratched her fingertips along my stubble. “I don’t think I qualify anymore.”

Soft, incredulous laughter floated from me, and my words got all serious when I cupped the side of her face. “You being a good girl has never been about sex, Samantha. It’s always been about who you are. What I’ve always loved most about you.”

Her expression shifted and she nodded, and she pushed up to press a lingering kiss to my mouth.

Yeah, I could get used to this.

My thumb grazed her cheek. “So what do you want to do today?”

Pretty sure I wasn’t ever going to let her out of my sight again.

Gentle fingertips trailed down my neck, tracing across my chest. Unsure eyes peeked up at me. “I’m going to go and visit Stewart like I do every Sunday. Then I’m going to go back to my place —”

It was uncontrollable.

The rage that built up, bursting at my ribs, bristling across my skin.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I clutched her sides, refusing to let go.

She touched my cheek. “Hey… look at me.”

Reluctantly, I met her gaze.

“I’m going back to my house so I can end things with Ben. He’ll be home this afternoon and I’m going to lay it all out. After that? It depends on you, Christopher. I’m leaving him one way or another. What I told you last night? I meant it. It’s always been you.”

I released an apologetic breath, guilt shaking my head. “I’m sorry, baby. I just… Fuck,” I swore, driving a hand through my hair, trying to keep all these turbulent emotions in check. “Thinking about you and him makes me fucking crazy. I can’t even stand the idea of you being around him. Not ever again.”

Understanding softened her expression, but there was something resolute in it, too. She brushed her fingers through the flop of hair on my forehead, meeting my eye. “I was with him for seven years, Christopher, and he helped me through the worst time in my life.”

Remorse fisted my heart, and I struggled to get her closer. God, I’d give up anything to take it back, that night on her floor, that mistake that had haunted me for seven fucking years. To take back all the pain I’d caused her. To stop the progression of shit it’d left in its wake.

I didn’t even know how to be angry with Samantha for cutting me loose anymore. It still hurt, but I knew I’d been the catalyst. The one who’d set everything in motion.

“At least I owe him an explanation. An apology. All these months…” Pained, she swallowed and dropped her gaze to the floor, before she looked back at me. “No matter how much I tried to deny it at the time, somewhere inside me, I wanted it to lead to this. Every time I saw you, Christopher, I
ached
, and every time you left I missed you a little more. All of that only confirmed how much I still loved you… how much I wanted you. I mean, God, I packed a bag last night hoping I’d be waking up here
after
I sent a text to my boyfriend, telling him I’d be at home reading a book. What kind of person does that?” Her expression was pleading. “No matter what you think of him, I am still the one who betrayed him. And I never wanted to be responsible for something like that because I know how much betrayal hurts.”

I started to protest, but she pressed her fingers against my mouth. “But I don’t regret it. I don’t regret us. I refuse to. But that doesn’t mean I’m not guilty or that I didn’t go about it all wrong. Because of it, I have to hurt him.”

Resigned, I nodded against her touch. “I get it. I do. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. You belong here. With me.”

She lightened her voice, eyes shining. “Does that mean you want me to come back here after?”

“Haven’t I already made that perfectly clear?” I rubbed up against her. “The only place I want you is right here… in my bed.”

“That sounds tempting.” It was all tease, just as teasing as her fingers that started fluttering down my abs.

“Not tempting. Mandatory.”

She smiled a soft smile, and then she cringed and chewed at her lip. “I think maybe we should take some time to talk tonight?” Almost pleading, she tilted her head. “About what happened to us? You hurt me, Christopher, and I have to get it all out before we can really move on.”

Fuck, I wanted to bury it all. To forget it. But I knew she was right. And the truth was, she’d hurt me, too. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, but I promise you right now, Samantha, I’m not ever gonna hurt you again.”

“I know,” she whispered, her palms flat on my sides, high up on my ribs. I could feel the force of my heart beating against them.

I kissed the top of her head, bringing her back to hug her, changing the subject. “You excited to see Stewart?”

I felt her smile against my skin. “I can’t wait. Even though it’s hard every time I see him. But he needs me, you know?”

“Of course I know.” I pulled back and tucked a lock of her knotted-up hair behind her ear. “I’d like to see him sometime. You think he’d be okay with that?”

This smile lit her face, the kind that punched me right in the center of my chest, the one that shouted out I was home.

“I think he’d love that,” she said. Then a shadow blew in. “But you’re going to have to give me a little time… let this settle in with my family.”

Resentment flared. Part of me hated Samantha’s parents. Hated what they’d done. They’d been guilty, too. “They’re not gonna be so thrilled about us, are they?”

Dropping her gaze, she shook her head. “I don’t know. Probably not. But it doesn’t matter.” She gathered my hand between both of hers, kissed across my knuckles while she clutched it. “What matters is what we want.”

Samantha squeaked when I swept her off the counter, one arm under her back and the other under her knees, bride-style.

Yeah.
 

I carried her toward my bedroom. “And the only thing I want is you.”

At five minutes past noon, I pulled up to the curb in front of my parents’ quiet house and cut the engine. I sat in silence, trying to gather my wits, which I was pretty sure I’d lost somewhere around six o’clock last night. Right where I’d left them at Christopher’s feet.

No doubt, I’d been grinning like a fool the entire drive over, all this happiness bubbling up and over.

I flipped down the sunshade to peek at myself in the mirror. Bright, wide eyes stared back at me, brimming with excitement and an overwhelming joy there was no chance of bottling up, my cheeks rosy and flushed. I rummaged through my purse in the passenger seat and pulled out my shiny clear gloss and lathered it across my lips that were all puffy and swollen and just about as sore as I was between my thighs.

God, how obvious was I? I was pretty sure the second I walked through the door my mom would see straight through the casual facade I was trying to front.

Right to the expression hidden underneath.

You know the one.

The one that screamed,
Your daughter’s just been thoroughly sexed up by the baddest boy you never wanted to meet. And oh, by the way, she’s madly in love with him, too. And yep, you guessed it, she’s just about to throw away that seven-year relationship you were all too keen to tie her to.

Yeah, that one.

Thank God it’d be just her and Stewart. Dad would still be over at the church, chatting and mingling with his congregation after Sunday services.

Truth was, I really didn’t want to have to hide it. I wanted to shout it. But I wasn’t about to let any of them in on this until I’d ended things with Ben. Not until I could bring Christopher here, stand at his side, and proclaim it all.

Would they be angry and disappointed?

Definitely.

Would they try to talk me out of my ignorance?

No doubt.

But it made no difference at all.

Because this time, I wasn’t letting Christopher go.

Shaking my head, I forced myself out of my car and into the warmth of the balmy day. I headed up the sidewalk, truly anxious to see Stewart. I warred with the sadness that engulfed me when the picture of his face hit my mind. He’d progressively gotten sicker. Weaker. Thinner.

I hated it, but I pinned a smile on my face, unwilling to put any sort of damper on our visit.

With a quick tap on the wooden door, I twisted the knob and stepped inside. “Mom?” I called. I eased into the silent house, walking through the foyer and stepping into the family room.

“Congratulations!”

I stumbled back in shock when a chorus of cheers rang against the walls. Stunned, I stood at the edge of the room, my mouth gaping as I took in all the faces smiling back at me. My mom and dad, and Sean and Stephanie were there, too. Stewart was on the couch, surrounded by a mound of pillows, tucked under a blanket.

My gaze glided back around the room to take in the balloons and streamers, the place decked out for a celebration. It trailed over to my aunt and uncle, who had my younger cousins in tow.

“What is this?” I asked, my chest feeling all light and fluttery, and my mom stepped forward.

“Oh, sweetheart, today we’re celebrating you,” she said.

Gratitude filled me to the brim, pressing full at my ribs, and tears welled in my eyes. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, but it’d hurt when I’d received little recognition when I told my parents about the job. I’d felt it a brush-off, a dismissal of something that had been so important to me.

Still, with everything they were dealing with, I completely understood.

But this?

This was so much more than I expected.

“Sam.” The deep voice assaulted me from off to the right, behind me, just out of view. Chills skated across the nape of my neck, lifting the delicate hairs. My stomach lurched when Ben approached from where he’d been hidden in the back corner. His mother and father stood behind him. Profuse, exuberant smiles on their faces.

Ben was so sure as he rounded me, as he dropped to his knee and pulled a black velvet box from his pocket.

Oh God.
 

Realization sunk like a rock into my consciousness.

No.

I couldn’t deal with this.

Not today.

Not ever.

I could feel my head shaking, my entire body vibrating with the sentiment.

No. No. No.

This could not be happening.

My body leaned away, repelling the situation, desperate for a way to be saved from this humiliation.

But I was stuck, a soundless scream locked somewhere in my throat as Ben took my hand, our enthusiastic, expectant audience urging him on. Breaths bated, hands clasped at their chins, as they awaited the most romantic of gestures.

There was nothing romantic about this.

This was coercion.

Brown eyes flashed up to mine and he clutched my trembling hand, and he and I both knew it. I saw possession flare in his eyes, the zealous violence in the clench of his jaw.

Subtly, I tried to pull my hand away, silently begging him not to do this. Almost painfully, he squeezed my wrist.

And I stood there feeling like the most foolish little girl. Like the pitiful pool of despair that he’d found on that bathroom floor years ago because I had no idea how to make my mouth work as he slid the huge ring on my finger.

He didn’t ask me.

And I never said yes.

Because I wouldn’t.

And I was sure there was some part of him that knew it.

Part of him that
knew everything
even though he had no idea at all.

“There,” he said, his mouth screwing up into a smug smile, his voice dropping low enough that only I could hear him. “All mine.”

Hot, angry tears broke free. Tears my family misinterpreted as happiness. They broke out in applause.

I couldn’t believe he was doing this, right here, in front of our families, but another piece of me wasn’t surprised at all. I wanted to scream,
No! Never!

But that guilt flared. What I’d been doing was wrong. Immoral. And despite where my heart lay, Ben had been my rock for a lot of years. There when no one else had been. It would be cruel to humiliate him in front of our families, and I needed to give him the time he deserved and end this the right way, if there ever could be a
right
way to end things.

But one thing I knew was I needed to do it without an audience. Without the disappointment and questions such a scene would be sure to inspire.

As excruciating as faking my way through this afternoon was going to be.

My mother rushed forward and pulled me into her arms, her words low at my ear. “Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you.” She met my eyes, respect reflected in hers. “I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.” She turned and reached down, softly cupping Ben’s cheek. “Thank you for allowing us to be a part of this moment.”

She looked back at me, admiration steeped in her tone. “When Ben called me late Wednesday night and asked for my help putting this together, I was ecstatic. We even got your sister out here from California in time.”

I wanted to puke.

Wednesday.

After our dinner.

Numbly, I stood there while our families filed forward. People who only loved me and cared and had no clue of the real nature of the man who pushed up from his knee to stand at my side, a self-righteous expression embedded deep on his face.

God, I really was a fool.

The only one who didn’t come up to offer congratulations was Stewart. He remained on the couch, watching us, disappointment and disgust spread out over his pale, pale face.

I spent the rest of the day pretending.

Now I was sitting through the most torturous meal I had ever experienced, one that seemed to go on forever, one I was sure both my mother and Ben’s had slaved over for hours, hoping to provide us with a perfect yet simple engagement party. Everyone tried to involve me in wedding plans, talk of dates and budgets and cake.

The bile wouldn’t recede from my throat.

The entire time, Ben held my hand shackled in his on the top of the table, as if he’d won a prize.

While I had the most unladylike urge to spit in his face.

He’d orchestrated this just like he’d maneuvered me into the house he’d rented. Bending me to his will. Breaking the broken little girl just a little more. Molding me into who he wanted me to be.

But I no longer fit.

Could no longer conform.

Over my shoulder, I watched the movement from the couch. Stewart climbed to his unsteady feet, braced himself on the arm of the couch. “Hey, Ma, I’m going to go lie down on my bed. I’m not feeling so great.”

Heavy emotion washed over her, but she forced a smile. “Sure, sweetheart. I’ll come check on you in a bit.”

He shot me a meaningful glance before he shuffled down the hall.

Pushing back my chair to stand, I finally reclaimed my hand from Ben’s overbearing grasp. “I’m going to go spend a little time with him.” Apologetically, I let my gaze bounce around the faces at the table. “Sunday afternoons are usually ours. I want to make sure I get to spend some time with him. Thank you all so much for coming today.”

Nods from everyone, a scowl from Ben, confusion from my mom.

I rubbed at my forehead as I turned away.

God, Ben just had to pick today. He had to go and make it a hundred times worse. Make me break another oath that I’d not even given. Make the explanations even harder than they would have been.

I tapped at Stewart’s door in the same second I pushed it open, casting him a soft smile as he pulled his covers up to his chin.

“Hey,” I said.

A half smile flitted around his mouth, stark blue eyes bugging out at me. “Well, if it isn’t the soon-to-be Mrs. Ben Carrington.”

I cringed and crossed his room to brush a kiss to his forehead.

When I pulled back an inch, those blue eyes rolled and he smiled a playful smile. “You look thrilled, by the way. Just your typical, ecstatic blushing bride.”

That was the thing with my little brother. It was he who could see right through me. He who knew me best. Facing away, I sat down on the edge of his bed. “That obvious, huh?”

“Uh… yeah. Horror was written all over your face. So why don’t you go ahead and clue me in to who has your panties all wet, because I know it’s not Ben.”

Mouth gaping, I jerked my attention over my shoulder. “What is wrong with you, Stewart? You’re so gross,” I hissed, feeling all that redness I’d worn the last twenty-four hours flood right back to my face.

And how the heck did he know?

Chuckling, he shrugged innocently. “What? If I die without having sex, at least I get to make fun of you about it.”

“Don’t say that.” God, he was always so morbid.

“Hey, you always say you want me to be completely honest with you. Think it’s about time you were honest with yourself.”

His words were pointed, like a double-edged sword driven straight into my heart, all the truths I needed to accept in my life, ones I wanted to welcome and those I wanted to reject.

Words muted to a whisper, Stewart leaned forward. “Now, tell me about this guy who has my sister all spun up. I want to know who had your eyes smiling before that asshole out there stepped in and stole it all away.”

In shock, I stared back at this gentle boy, who held more insight than he should.

My phone took that opportune time to buzz. I had it clutched in my hand, and I discreetly glanced down to catch the message that lit up the screen. Christopher’s name flashed across the top.

My heart did that erratic thing again, but this time I recognized it. An extra beat that accelerated toward perfection. A blip of a moment that spanned farther and farther, stretching to reach that place where I ultimately belonged.

“Who is it?” Stewart asked, trying to peek.

“No one.”

The one.
 

I could feel the mischief ooze from my little brother, and he shoved his hand out, eyes teasing as he watched my expression. “Give it to me.”

“No.”

He grabbed it and tried to yank it from my hand.

“What in the world is wrong with you, Stewart? I told you it was nothing.”

It was everything.

But would Stewart understand if he knew?

He didn’t back down. “You wouldn’t wrestle a cancer patient, would you?”

“Today I just might,” I shot back, everything between us both light and heavy.

His expression shifted from playful to serious, sympathy and understanding filling up the well of his vivid blue eyes. “Please, Samantha. Let me see.”

Hesitantly, I lessened my hold, nodding, giving it up, knowing Stewart was asking me to trust him. I gulped around the knot in my throat as he slid his finger across the plate. Stunned silence took him whole as he remained fixated on the message for the longest time.

Finally he looked up to find my anxious, unsure gaze. Stewart blinked through a million questions. “Christopher?” he finally asked, quiet and cautious, looking back down at the text Christopher had sent.

How is Stewart today? God, wish I could be there. This is torture, missing you. Feels like this is the longest day of my life.
 

I nodded again, this time fighting tears. “Yes.”

It’d always been Christopher.

A soft smile edged his mouth. “You know the greatest wish in my life?”

The tears I was fighting won. They broke free and streaked down my face.

Stewart continued. “That you’d find happiness in yours.”

He reached out and touched the side of my face, and I had the intense urge to hug him, to beg him to promise me he’d never leave me, to demand that he find the same for his own.

So I did.

He held me tight while I mumbled my pleas all over him, and I could feel his tears wetting my temple, mingling in my hair. His voice was rough and low. “Love you so much, Samantha. More than I think you could ever know. Thank you for always putting me first, for loving me and sacrificing for me. Now it’s time for you to do that for yourself. Don’t settle. Not now. Not ever.”