Poughkeepsie (60 page)

“Don’t worry.” She watched suspicion cloud his eyes. “I’m going to give you pleasure. And you’re going to take it.”

She waited until his grin formed, then kissed him everywhere she could reach with her lips. She magicked his pants away from his ankles and slipped off his shoes and socks.

Now she would show him—show him that she loved him enough to stay with him, to be present as she wrapped her mouth around his length. She looked up so he could see her eyes and be sure of her. She kept her hands busy, increasing the friction and finding the places that made it hard for him to breathe. She could feel him tense with pleasure. Kyle cupped him and adjusted subtly until she found the spot.

“Damn it,” he gasped as she pressed gently.

She continued stroking and sucking, planning to finish him still standing, just so she could see his knees shake. But Cole stepped back and away from her tender touches.

“Get on the bed, Kyle.” His hands trembled.

“Cole, you promised. I want to do this for you.” Kyle was suddenly worried. Didn’t he trust her?

“That’s not it. I just—your legs, your head moving, your hands. I need to taste you. Get on the bed.” Cole offered a hand to her, helping her from her knees.

She smiled when she realized what he meant. Soon they were twisted into each other, unobstructed by clothing in a ying and yang of pleasure. She now had to fight through her own ecstasy to concentrate on his manhood. But this new angle gave her mouth more to work with, and soon together they became a shimmering convulsion of gratification. Cole untangled himself to stand over her, glistening.

“Mrs. Bridge? Would you care to shower?”

Kyle accepted his hand and swatted his bottom. “Yes. Mr. Bridge, I would love to.” She giggled and tried to get away as he spanked her in return.

Cole did the honors of adjusting the water to the perfect temperature. He stood outside the shower as Kyle stepped into the stream. The curtain remained pushed aside as Cole watched Kyle soak her hair, her skin warming and glowing with the liquid heat. She peeked out at him every so often, thrilled every time to find his eyes on her body.

Droplets of water beaded on Cole’s chest, and Kyle ran her hands over her body. “There’s water everywhere, Cole. Get in. Come inside me this time.”

Water covered the patchwork of scars on Cole’s back as he pounded into Kyle. She opened her hands to steady herself against the tile as he pressed her high against the shower wall. She was blessed by the hot water, by his touch. He was baptized by the warm, inviting spot inside her.

The steam that poured out the open bathroom door created a blurry cloud. It seemed to pulsate in time with Cole’s deep thrusts into his bride. Her hands moved from the tile to caress his neck. He sounded almost as if he was in pain as he thundered with the ecstasy of his release.

After lathering up and rinsing each other, Cole toweled Kyle’s body dry. As he wrapped her in white terrycloth, Kyle eyed his lingering hardness. “Again?”

Cole turned his bride to hug her from behind, nuzzling her neck. “I’ll have you in my bed next,” he said. “I’m going to make love to you so thoroughly that, tomorrow? You’ll walk like John Wayne.”

Her laughter sounded so free.

Far from Kyle’s joy, back in the lonely hotel room, Eve opened the door to find the drunken Beckett. She sat on the bed and leaned her back against the headboard. Beckett could barely manage the coordination it took to crawl to her and set his head on her chest.

“How wazzit?” he slurred.

He started to snore between her breasts before she could answer. She stroked his hair, letting his rhythmic noise free her tears. She watched the camera in her brooch project a picture of the TV to the TV, creating a sort of bizarre, M.C. Escher-style modern art—so fitting for the girl whose problems became her answers, which had then become her problems all over again.

Eve had wet cheeks when she finally answered a completely unaware Beckett. “It was amazing. It was everything I’ll never have.” She leaned down and pressed her lips to his hair. “Loving you is more of a curse than anything else.”

48

Hummingbird

E
VE’S
B
IKE
A
TE
T
HE
pavement. She didn’t bother with blinkers or inconvenient road signs. She just flew—weaving in and out of traffic. Most of the other drivers didn’t even register her presence until she was long gone.

The routine she’d established in the last few months would be broken today. She’d have nothing more to report to Beckett. Blake and Eve had made an unlikely pair on his quest for freedom from his paralyzing fear, but this had been her last morning with her cousin.

Soon after Blake had moved into her father’s building, Eve had been back to check on him—at Beckett’s request. Beckett had been crawling the walls with his desperate need for his brothers’ companionship, so Eve was to be his eyes.

She’d entered the apartment building and gone downstairs to find Livia standing just inside Blake’s apartment door, her hand on the knob, ready to leave.

“Blake, I need to make the time. Dr. Lavender said a little at a time, every day, would be the way to go.” Livia seemed angry with herself.

Eve’s silent ways made eavesdropping part of her personality. She scarcely breathed. She noticed a crack in the hallway had been puttied over and painted, no doubt by Blake the handyman.

“You have too much going on,” Blake insisted. “I can do this on my own, really. I’ll try tomorrow. I will.” Blake’s voice sounded shaky.

Eve heard what had to be a gentle kiss.

“You said that about today,” Livia added softly. “No, don’t look at me like that; I’m so proud of you. This is a huge task, and I want to help.”

The rustling of clothes had to be a hug.

“I never want to disappoint you, Livia.” Blake sounded stronger now, determined, but still anxious.

“That’s not possible. Ever. God, I have to go. The test is tomorrow, and I haven’t even looked at the material.”

Livia stepped backward into the hall. Eve slid into the cover of another doorway.

“You should definitely go,” Blake said. “Will you please call me when you get home? So I know you’re safe?” He closed the door behind them and walked with Livia down the hall and up the stairs, presumably to her car.

Eve watched silently, and unseen, as they passed, wondering if now was really a great time to be Beckett’s nosy emissary. A few minutes later Blake walked past her hiding place in a furious, stomping rage. She was still debating with herself about visiting when she heard a crash. She arrived instantly at Blake’s slightly open door.

“Goddammit! Man up and do this. Just do it. How can she be with me? I can’t even…I won’t try hard enough.”

He was utterly defeated. Eve knew it without having to see the slope of his shoulders.

She pushed the door open, and it creaked on its hinges. Blake whirled and was instantaneously relived. Eve knew he’d been afraid he’d find Livia. She looked from Blake to the water glass he’d thrown against the wall. He must be seriously twisted up; he treated everything in the apartment like it belonged in a museum.

“Beckett says hi. Can I come in?” Eve waited until he nodded.

“Eve, I apologize for this broken glass. It’s an extremely disrespectful way to treat these belongings.” Blake fetched his broom and dustpan, kneeling to gather the destroyed kitchenware.

“Dude, I blew up Beckett’s strip mall. I’m not judging.” Eve strolled into his kitchen behind him, listening to the tinkle of broken glass as it found its resting place in the trash.

Blake lifted one eyebrow. He’d been in Beckett’s world too long to be shocked by destruction. He put the broom away and faced Eve.

“Hey, I overheard part of your conversation with Livia.” She tried to sound friendly.

Blake shook his head. “Yeah. I’m not doing so great at getting used to the sun.” His hands were restless. “It’s supposed to be little steps at a time, but I…”

Eve nodded. “I’m going to come tomorrow morning. We’re going to get a cup of coffee at the place down the road. We’ll walk, so be ready.” Eve watched as he calculated the shadows, sun, and shade on the way to Cup O’ Joe’s.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you. Thank you for the offer, though.” Blake held his own clenched fist.

Eve waited. They both looked around the kitchen. Blake cleared his throat.

“It’s not an offer. I’m going to be here,” she said. “We’re going for a walk. Real simple.” She watched as he changed his fingers’ grip, once, twice, three times.

He needed convincing.

“Hey, I’m not your girlfriend. I’m no one you can disappoint. I’ll just make sure we work through the fear that keeps you in the dark. Plus it’ll be good exercise after the gunshot wound and all.”

Blake looked at the ceiling and blew out a breath. “Why, Eve? Why would you do this for me?”

His suspicious eyes found her face again. That question caught her off guard. She pulled herself up to sit on the counter. Of course—Blake hadn’t known her before David’s accident. He had no idea she’d once honestly liked helping people.

“I used to be a human being,” Eve said. “I used to care if people lived or died.” She thought of Mouse and knew her emotions were not entirely buried. “You puttied the crack in the hall. You’re letting my dad be a part of your life. I owe you, and this—helping you get coffee? I can do. You’ll have to trust me.” She hopped off the counter and held out her hand.

Blake stared, and instead of shaking it, he opened a drawer, retrieved a velvet ring box, and placed it in her extended hand. She opened it while Blake watched the box like it was a bomb. Inside was Eve’s great-grandmother’s engagement ring. She’d know it anywhere. Great Gran wore it every day of her fifty-eight years married to Eve and Blake’s great-grandfather. She’d left it to Ted.

“Ted gave that to me,” Blake said. “But I want you to have it. It was your great-grandmother’s.” He watched her carefully.

Eve took the ring out of the velvet slit that held it tightly. A shiver ran through her body. She jammed it back into its box and snapped it shut. The small, perfect diamond had taken a bite out of her soul. She tossed the box back to Blake. He caught it, looking puzzled.

“I can’t wear that. I won’t wear that.” Eve turned her back on Blake. “I can’t wear stuff like that in my line of work.”

Blake said nothing, letting the silence ask his questions. Eve realized she was expecting a lot from him. She wanted him to trust her in the sun, so she’d have to do something that scared her as well. Time to show Blake what was left of her tiny, crumpled pink heart.

“I was going to wear that once. It was going to be mine. My boyfriend and I would have gotten married.” She turned to see his reaction.

He was waiting patiently.

“David died in a car crash. It’s a—he was my future, you know?”

It was the way he received her pain that made her tell him more. He looked at her intently, like what she told him would be part of him forever.

“I was pregnant with his baby. She died too.” Eve shrugged, but her wet eyes betrayed her casualness.

Blake took the distance in two quick strides and enveloped her. Eve’s stiff body was ill-prepared for the hug. But Blake held on until she softened against his chest.

“The sun’s on the inside sometimes, huh?” He patted her back.

Eve patted his in return. “It burns in there.”

Finally they parted, and Blake found Eve a tissue.

“Well, I can’t very well give this to Livia,” he said matter-of-factly, looking at the box on the counter.

“You’re getting engaged?” Eve smiled at the thought of Blake and Livia.

“I want to, but I don’t know if I have any right to ask her.” Blake tucked the ring back into its drawer. “Your dad talked me into accepting this ring in a weak moment. He got me talking about my future and—”

Eve interrupted, imitating her father’s voice and stance. “Don’t put off happiness you can have today. Tomorrow is a hope, not a promise.”

Blake laughed. “Yes! Exactly. Glad to see it was a real original speech, just for me.”