I focused on the game, enjoying the players’ athleticism as they sprinted down the ice on their skates. They were graceful, which still shocked me since they were all big men. Goodness, my man’s moves turned me on. More than my man—my fiancé. Lennon was big. A bad ass. Mine.
Thanks, Mom. I would always believe my mother had been the one to tumble my hat down the lakefront to Lennon’s towel. I glanced at the back of Lola’s head, noting the thinning hair and thinning skin. I sighed. She was doing well with the treatments, but she wasn’t in remission. We could lose her, and that would devastate Lennon. It would devastate me.
Another thought formed: Would Lennon blame me for his mother’s death? I was the one caring for her, after all. An icy chill settled in my bones, and I struggled to pay attention to the game thereafter.
Hana noted my silence, but after a couple of unanswered questions, she didn’t push me.
I waited until Lennon and I were in his truck after a post-game celebratory meal to blurt out my question. “Will you still want me—still love me—if your mom dies?”
He did a double take, then looked back at the road when a car honked. His hands tightened on the wheel. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“It occurred to me tonight. I’m the one in charge of your mother’s health?—”
“I’m interrupting you right there. You are not in charge of my mother’s medical treatment. Her team of doctors handles that. You administer their medications and handle her daily care. But you are not responsible for the outcome, Vivi.”
I scrunched down in the seat, tucking my knees toward my chest. “But you said, when I first showed up, that you knew everything would be okay because I was your mother’s nurse. What if it isn’t?”
He was quiet for a long moment, and I watched the lights dance across his strong visage. I liked that he’d chosen to crop his beard shorter. He’d probably always be self-conscious about the scars from the attack, but I enjoyed seeing his strong jaw delineated by the thick, dark hair there. Everything about Lennon made me yearn.
“I’m scared,” I said, realizing what was driving my questions.
“I get that,” he said quietly. “And part of the blame’s on me. I haven’t done enough for you to know that I love you, Vivian. No strings, no attachments, no qualifiers.” He glanced over at me, his eyes hungry yet soft. “I want you with me, at my side, always. My mom…” He signaled a turn into his parking garage. “My mom is sick. There’s no guarantee she’ll get well. I know that. I hate it, but I understand that. Just as I know that caring for my mom has to bring up feelings about losing yours.” He parked, turned off the engine, and turned toward me. He took both my hands, his much warmer than my chilled ones, and kissed each of my knuckles.
“I love you, Vivi. I want a life and a lifetime with you. I want a family with you. I want to grieve with you, which I hope isn’t too often, and I want to laugh with you, which I hope is most of the time. Because I love you, and I need you.”
The yearning settled in my belly, warm and insistent, as we headed up the elevator to his condo. My nipples peaked and my skin flushed, sensitized to the warm, rough pads of Lennon’s fingers. He made me so unbearably hot—so needy. Until Lennon, I’d worried there was something wrong with my libido. Now I knew I felt just as much desire as any other woman. I’d simply needed the right man.
Once inside his home, I led him to the bedroom. “Please, Lennon. I need you. I want you inside me.”
His breath hitched as his lips parted, those dark eyes even darker as the pupils seemed to swallow the brown of his iris.
“Fuck, Vivi. I’m not sure I can go slow. Be gentle.”
I unzipped my skirt and let it slide off my hips. I stood before him in my purple-and-black polka-dot satin panty set, unselfconscious about the slight swell of my tummy between my hip bones or the jiggle in my thighs. When Lennon looked at me, I felt sexy—I was sexy. That was all that mattered.
“I don’t want gentle.” I took a breath. “And I don’t want to be in control. I want you to take me, Lennon.” I spread open his hand and placed his palm on my chest so he could feel the steady thud of my heart.
We needed to work through this issue, just as I’d needed the reassurance that he’d still love me. If we were going to be partners, we had to trust each other and respect each other—and, in this case, give and receive pleasure. I was primed, more than ready. My panties dampened against my slick thighs.
Lennon hesitated, still holding himself back. That wouldn’t do. I laid my palms on the swell of his pectorals before I rose on my tiptoes. Keeping eye contact the entire time, I nipped his lower lip into my mouth. Dragging my teeth back slowly, I licked the abused flesh.
“Fuck me, Lennon. Hard, so I can feel where you’ve been for days.”
The flare in his gaze excited me. His big hands grabbed my hips, and I was airborne. I slammed against his chest and wrapped my arms and legs around him. Lennon leaned in so his beard tickled my ear. “You asked for this.”
“I did, so give it to me.”
His chuckle was decadent—nearly as decadent as his lips and beard on the sensitive swell of my breast. He laid me on the silk duvet, and the coolness against my back made goose bumps explode. He yanked my bra cup down and took my nipple into his mouth, suckling hard at the firm bud. I arched into him, my hands sliding into his hair. He switched sides, kneading my damp breast while he feasted on the other one.
Back and forth he moved, pushing my need higher. My hips shifted, seeking friction. But Lennon remained out of reach, driving me utterly crazy. He slipped my bra straps off my shoulders as he kissed my tummy and massaged my butt. With a tug, he slid my panties down my legs. He pressed his cheek to my belly as he inserted two thick fingers into my entrance. They slid in and out with ease, coated with the evidence of my desire.
He nipped and licked at my hip bone, my outer thigh. My moans grew louder, and I clutched him tighter.
“I want… Lennon, I want…”
He pulled back, away from me, and I cried out, desperate to get closer, missing his fingers. But a moment later, his hot erection pressed to my slit, splitting my plump lower lips, filling me up.
I gasped and shook, shocked at the pleasure of his slow, merciless progression. He didn’t stop until his balls nudged my bottom. Still I wanted more, needed more, and I shifted restlessly against him. “Ah, Vivi. You are amazing.” He pulled back and slammed into me. I gasped and clutched the duvet.
