I don't want to have this conversation right now. And even though I want him to take me to bed and make up for all the time we've lost, I know we have to talk about what he saw. "I've spent the last three months in agony believing that you cared nothing for me. I just needed an escape from this emotional roller coaster. I thought Charlie might help me forget you for a little while."
He drops his head back against the couch and squeezes his eyes shut. I can see he's about to say something and his expression tells me it isn't going to come easy for him. And that terrifies me.
Shit! Am I too late? Has she let this Charlie guy into her bed so she could forget me?
I am a selfish bastard, and undeniably a possessive one, when it comes to Laurelyn. I don't want her happier with another man and I'm petrified that she is. I fear he's giving her the things I didn't. And telling her the words I should have but refused to say because I was too stubborn to see the truth.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I brace myself for her answer to the question I'm bloody terrified to ask. "Did you let him fuck you?"
Laurelyn won't lie to me, but that's only one of the reasons I'm scared to death. I stare into the blackness behind my lids. I won't be able to bear it if she tells me she let him get inside her. I don't know how to handle that.
I feel her hands on my face. "Look at me." I don't know if I can until I know she hasn't been with another man. "Please, look at me."
I've never been more frightened in my life, but I open my eyes because it's what she's asking me to do. Her face is so serious. I think she's contemplating how to say the words, how to break my heart gently and kill me slowly.
I stare at her caramel eyes and wait for the verdict as she strokes her hands down my face. "Jack Henry." I hear her say my name and I'm ready to fall at her feet. "There's been no other man since you—not inside my head, my heart, or my body." She reaches for my hand and brings it to rest over her heart. "No other man will ever reside here. It's reserved for you alone."
I hear the breath I'm holding escape in relief. Words don't have a way of describing the solace I'm experiencing.
I feel her heart speeding beneath my hand where she's holding it. It's keeping pace with mine perfectly.
I bring my other hand to her chest and stroke my fingertips across her skin to push the robe away from her shoulders. I lean forward and inhale deeply after I place a single kiss between her bared breasts. She has her own feminine fragrance—despite the scent of my body wash—and it drives me crazy. I can't get enough of it; I've missed it so much.
I reach for the velour belt around her waist and pull. I part the lush fabric and push it away so I can see her bareness, but simply gazing at her could never suffice. Looking has never been enough when it comes to Laurelyn. I have to touch her. And I do. "You're even more beautiful than I remember."
I grasp her thighs straddling me and run my hands up until I reach her hips and squeeze. My palm flat against her stomach, I slide it to her chest and back down again.
I lean forward and take her rosy pink nipple into my mouth and I feel it grow hard as I circle it with the tip of my tongue. She puts her hand behind my head and pulls me closer as she arches her back and drops her head. I hear a moan escape her lips.
She's naked beneath her robe and squirming against my hard cock. Only the fabric of my pants and undies separates us, but I don't think that will last much longer since it feels like I could potentially split my pants at any moment. I don't think I've ever wanted her this badly.
In an instant, I'm off the couch and carrying her to the bed, her legs wrapped around my waist as she holds tightly around my shoulders. During our travel from the living room to the bedroom, she pulls her arms out of the robe and lets it drop to the floor.
I deposit her on the bed and she's entirely naked—except for the diamond star pendant around her neck—and I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. "You're wearing your birthday gift."
She reaches up to touch it where it's resting against the dip of her throat. "I haven't taken it off once since the last time you put it on me."
I'm pleases me to no end that she has always kept this piece of me with her while we were apart. I think knowing she wore my gift so close to her heart makes me love her even more—if that's a possibility.
I lower myself down against Laurelyn and bring our mouths together. I'm desperate to feel her tongue against mine and taste my American girl's sweet lips. She opens her mouth to invite me in and it's better than I remember. Her tongue rolls in waves against mine as they reunite to share an intimate dance they've not experienced in a while.
My kiss is aggressive because it's been far too long since I've felt Laurelyn. I don't know how to be anything but vigorous when it comes to her. She retreats to catch her breath and I glide my mouth down her neck toward her shoulder. "I love these little patches of freckles. I've missed kissing them."
She giggles softly and I move my mouth down her chest. Her laughter stops and I hear a sharp intake of air as I suck her breast into my mouth. I hear her groan, "Ohh," as I pull on her nipple until it's hard and elongated. I use my teeth to scrape it gently because I know how sensitive her nipples are and how easily she's turned on when I do that. I'm not playing favorites so I move to the other one and give it the same treatment before I migrate lower.
She's stretched out on the bed and I can't resist looking at her stomach. I rub my hand over her abdomen below her piercing and the memory of her half-taken birth control pack forces its way to the front of my thoughts. I can't stop myself from wondering—or maybe even hoping—there's a part of me growing inside her. It's unbelievable that I can picture her with my baby on the way and be okay with that.
I lower my mouth to her belly to place kisses against it and I feel Laurelyn's hand glide through my hair. I peer up at her. She's lifted her head so she can look at me. "What's with the special interest there?"
I'm not bringing it up now; it's not the right time. I don't want anything to stand in the way of me being inside her. "Nothing," I whisper as I move lower but skip the place I know she wants my mouth most. I want to make this last for as long as possible.
I'm kneeling between her legs and I lift her foot to kiss it when I notice something that wasn't there three months earlier—black script lettering wrapping around the inside of her ankle. "What is this?"
She props up on her elbows and gives me her patented smart-arse look that says what do you think it is? She doesn't have to say the words because I can read them on her face. Some things never change, but I must admit I'm glad. I've missed her attitude. It's refreshing. No other woman has ever given me hell like Laurelyn—except Margaret McLachlan.
I've always heard men marry women like their mothers. Maybe that's why I love my American girl so much.
My thoughts return to the question at hand and I tilt my head so I'm able to see what the tattoo says as I read it aloud. "He is always the song I sing." I look up at her. "When did you have this done?"
I think her tattoo refers to me—at least I hope it does—but I want to know for sure. I can't assume anything at this point. "Tell me who he is."
She sighs as she shakes her head. "Do I have to say the words for you to know?"
Yes. "Shit, yeh. I want to hear you say it."
"It's you, Jack Henry. It will always be you in every song I sing."
"I love it." She watches me kiss the spot where she has marked me on her body forever. "I want to be your song, Laurelyn." I move up her leg and kiss the inside of her thigh. "Always." Without breaking eye contact, I move my mouth to the inside of her other thigh. "And forever."
She closes her eyes and falls back against the bed. I hear her panting as I inch my mouth closer to the spot where she wants it—where she needs it most. Her legs are trembling as I push them apart. I press my nose against the smooth skin there and inhale deeply. "I love the way you smell."
She's writhing beneath me. I lower my mouth until I'm hovering between her legs, but I don't touch her. I make certain she can feel my warm breath. I hear her whisper, "Please…Jack Henry…don't make me beg," as she lifts her hips closer to my mouth. Her shifting tells me that she's dying for my soft, wet tongue to lick her.
I bet I could make her come without even touching her, but we'll save that little trick for another time.
I kiss her across the top of her pubic bone. "Do you remember how easy it is for me to make you come with my mouth?"
"No. Remind me," she whispers, lifting her hips again.
"Let me see if I can jog your memory a little." I butterfly kiss her drenching wet center before I slide my tongue up the middle. I hear her moan, "Ohh…ohh…don't you dare stop."
She tastes so fucking good, I wouldn't dream of stopping.
She's breathing deep and loud as she rocks her pelvis up and down against my mouth. I can tell how much she's missed this. And I have too. Words can't express how much but her sounds of satisfaction are giving me a pretty good indication of the degree. I'm feeling sure that I haven't forgotten her favorite way to get off.
I flatten my tongue against her and slowly lick her core up and down. I know how much she loves it that way. I'm reassured she's getting exactly what she needs from me when she begins to rock her hips harder. I want to give her the best orgasm of her life, so I slide one finger inside her—and then a second—as I continue to use my tongue above the entry of my fingers. The stimulation of my warm, moist tongue combined with my fingers sliding in and out has Laurelyn screaming my name as she fists my hair to pull me closer.