Only In His Sweetest Dreams(36)

He didn’t say anything and she glanced over at him. Saw a muscle pulse in his jaw as he made a sharp turn into a parking lot.

“If you could have what you want, just for today, for an hour, what would it be?”

He pulled up before a sign that read ‘Office.’ Above it rose three levels of orange doors and boxy windows. A motel. He’d brought her to a motel.

“Oh, L.C.” Sliding deeper into the seat, Mercedes closed her eyes. Why did he have to make this so easy and so difficult?

“I’ll leave the keys in the truck. You think about it while I’m inside. And listen, if you decide to drive away, don’t worry. I’ll make my way back when I’m ready. I just... I really want to hold you, M. Just for an hour.”





Chapter 19





Mercedes didn’t get out of the truck and walk away. She didn’t slide behind the wheel and drive away, either. She waited for L.C., knowing this was nuts, but just for an hour she wanted to be selfish. She wanted to be held. She wanted to be a woman who didn’t have two kids. Hi, Porsha, she thought, but still didn’t move.

L.C. smiled slow and warm when he came back out, making her heart trip.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not the first girl you’ve persuaded to skip school to go parking?”

The crinkles beside his eyes deepened as he drove to the end of the building and parked. They climbed the outside stairs to the third floor.

The room was stuffy and boringly neutral in green and gold, but clean and bright. Mercedes left the heavy drapes open with only the sheer drawn, kicked off her sandals and dropped her purse.

L.C. flopped onto the bed, opened his arms and said, “Come here.”

She crawled onto the bed and he gathered her close, holding her in tight, safe arms, rolling so they lay on their sides, facing each other. Mercedes nuzzled her nose into his chest, inhaling all the subtleties that were L.C., appreciating the flat, hard muscles that refused to give against her cheek. She dug her fingers into his back and twined her legs with his, and they both shuddered and clung.

“You know what’s weird?” he asked, weaving his fingers into her hair and urging her closer. “I’ve slept with women because I was hurting, and God knows plenty have slept with me because they were hurting, but I’ve never slept with a woman who was hurting for the same reason I was.”

“Oh, L.C.” She squirmed closer and felt his fingers tighten in her hair.

“You have no idea how much I need this,” he whispered.

“I do,” she whispered back, lifting her head to touch her lips to his stubbly chin.

The hollow ache inside her eased and it was such a relief. She wished she could stay like this with him, close and warm, holding on, forever.

They stayed exactly like that a long while, not even speaking, just hugging and offering a few tender kisses to temple or throat. But soon idle touch turned questing. Their lips met in a real kiss. L.C. touched his tongue to hers and cupped her breast. Sweet fire kindled in her blood and she squirmed closer.

“I’m too hot,” she broke their kiss to say, then kissed him again.

He moaned agreement and they pulled at their clothes. Tugged free buttons and belt buckles, slithered hands into tight pockets of warm fabric and hot skin. His belly muscles jumped as she stroked the prickling hair along his navel, then found the thicker nest, the smooth shaft thrusting up.

His fingers slid south and incited, while their kisses grew wetter and longer and hungrier. With a suddenness that shocked her, she hit a sharp peak and gasped. L.C. stilled with surprise then played it out for her, chuckling softly against her ear.

“You’re easier than I am,” he said as she relaxed.

“You’re not that easy. You still have most of your clothes on.”

They pushed away from each other and closed the curtains properly and shucked clothing, kicking free to fall together again, rolling and rubbing in the square of paisley orange bedspread, moaning at the exquisite contact.

“I’ve been dying to know how far these freckles go,” L.C. said, lifting on an elbow to survey her nudity.

“All the way, baby.”

“And mercy me, the carpet matches the drapes.” He lightly stroked her springy auburn curls, then lowered his eyelids and deepened the caress, watching his hand and the way her hips lifted into his touch.

Mercedes closed her eyes, humming her enjoyment. “You’re awfully good at that.”

“I’m a man of many talents. Allow me to demonstrate.” He kissed her, then licked her nipple while his hand left her, moving to press her thighs open, making space for himself as he settled over her. He slid down, his lips brushing her ribcage.

“Wait.”

He lifted his head to give her a dark, hungry look. “Don’t say no, M. I’ll die.”

“No, I... I can do that, too.”

One brow cocked up and then he rolled away, splaying himself on his back. “Darlin’, I have officially died and gone to heaven.”

With a little chuckle, she came up on her knees above his head. “Me, too,” she said, bending to kiss his lips. “Spiderman kiss,” she murmured, because he was upside down to her.

“Is that what we’re calling this?” he asked in a throaty voice and her heart stilled. He almost made it sound like they had a future beyond this stolen afternoon.

Kissing her way down the center of his chest, she felt his hands grip her hips, guiding her to where he wanted her, pressing a hot kiss between her legs as she opened her mouth on him.

Heaven.



“You don’t get tired, do you?” she asked two hours later, dropping her arm over her eyes as he rolled off her, leaving her still tingling and just a little bit sore in the best possible way. Her skin was sweaty and sensitive, her lips salty and tender, her muscles achy and all of her sweet, sweet, sweet. She wanted to groan and roll and writhe in sheer ecstasy, but she didn’t have the energy.

“You’re the nympho. Jesus, M. I knew you’d put me through my paces, but I’m gonna call the cops if you don’t lay off.”

“Poor you.” She smiled blindly with her eyes still covered. He had made love to her on a bed of towels on the bathroom floor after their shower, made her come twice in there before bringing her to bed for two more. He was the one with all the stamina.

And yet there was something greedy in her that wanted him inside her again. She lifted her arm and crooked her neck to glance at the clock.

“Stop doing that,” he said.

“What?”

“You keep looking at the clock like it’s pointing a gun at you. This doesn’t have to be it, M. We can figure this out, make it work. Just ask me to stay.”

She groaned and dropped her forearm into place again.

L.C. sighed and rolled into her, gathering her alongside him, warming her cooling skin and pulling a pillow under their heads but leaving them sideways across the mattress.

“Why can’t you have kids?” he asked.

Oh, shit. Were they going there? She sighed.

“Tumors.” She pulled back a little so she could see him. “Not cancer. Something the doctors figure was hereditary. Mom’s sister had some, but mine got really bad because Mom put me on the pill pretty much the day I got my period. There are some that wouldn’t have made it worse, but we didn’t know, so I was on the wrong one. They gave me awful periods, too, not that Mom wanted to hear about it. I finally got diagnosed when I fainted at work. Turns out I was seriously anemic. I tried to manage it for a few years, but I finally had surgery five years ago. Rather than have a full hysterectomy, which would have put me into early menopause, they took part of my uterus and tied my tubes.”

L.C. frowned. “You’re not even thirty, are you? That’s young for such a big decision.”

“I was twenty-six, but I was spending ten days out of twenty-eight in bed. It was hell. I actually tried to get pregnant for a year before having the surgery.”

“With who?” he demanded.

“A guy I was seeing. He was nice, but being off the pill made my periods even worse. I finally woke up and realized how stupid I was being. I mean, I was trying to have a kid with a guy I didn’t really love because my sister was having kids. I thought I’d regret not having one someday, but I wasn’t really keen right then. That’s nuts, right?”

He opened his mouth, seemed to hesitate, then asked carefully, “Do you regret it? I guess you can adopt if you want a family.”

“Or surrogate. I still have my ovaries and I froze some eggs, so I have options. But yeah, I’ll always be sad I can’t get pregnant. I saw a counselor before and after, though. That turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. I worked through a lot of stuff about Mom and Porsha. I never would have wrapped my brain around separating my own life from theirs if I hadn’t seen that psychologist. And, frankly? My sister’s kids are about all I can handle. I don’t know if I want my own if I’m forever stepping in to help them.” She craned her neck to look at the clock again.

“Mercedes.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m trying not to, but I want both, L.C. I’m greedy. I want you and I want to do what’s right for the kids. Can you stand to take it slow? To be second to them whenever that has to happen?”