Hold You Close Page 15

  “I love you, Auntie London.”

  I shake my head, pushing those thoughts from my head, and look back down at her. “I love you with my whole heart.”

  “And Uncle Ian too.”

  I laugh, knowing I’m totally going to lose this one to her. He’s her hero and he should stay that way—always. “Goodnight, pipsqueak.”

  I tiptoe out of her room and check on the older kids. Chris is watching television and Morgan is creating the perfect Instagram photo, whatever that means. Much to my surprise, there’s not much to do around here. The laundry is done, dishes are clean, and everyone is functioning.

  Well, I guess I’ll watch television . . .

  My butt hits the couch and I realize how freaking exhausted I am. This weekend was crazy and I haven’t slept at all. I lean my head back and try to absorb all that happened today. Ian was so sweet. He went above and beyond to do something nice for me, and I appreciated it, but it was nothing compared to him asking me to stay.

  There’s nothing on worth watching, so I grab my laptop from my bag beside me, and decide to do something to help me assemble my thoughts—I write. It’s been a long time since I’ve journaled, but as soon as I open everything, I know who I want to write to and what I have to say.

  I open my email, and begin to type.

  * * *

  Dear Sabrina,

  You’re gone. You’re gone and my life isn’t remotely the same. You gave Ian the kids, didn’t see that one coming, but they’re doing good. Thanks for the letter sort of explaining it. You really should’ve, you know, talked to me. I would’ve understood or at least bitched for a bit, tried to talk you out of it—okay, so maybe I do get why you didn’t tell me.

  Anyway, losing you has been hard on all of us. Ruby wouldn’t speak—well, to anyone but me. Now, she’s back to her bubbly self. Morgan is doing great, she’s full of piss and vinegar. Chris had a hard time, but Ian helped him through.

  Me? I’m struggling with everything, and I miss you. I want to open a bottle of wine and have you come over. I’ve been so alone since I lost you. So alone. Well, I guess I should say that I was. I felt like there was no way out of the pain of losing you, but then your stupid brother broke me down. I don’t know how the hell it happened, but here I am, in his house, about to go to his bed.

  Yup.

  His freaking bed. As if the first go around didn’t end in disaster, right? I know, I know, he’s not the same kid he was. I hear you loud and freaking clear, but . . . he’s . . . Ian. He’s the guy that somehow always gets to me.

  God, Sab, today he was that charming guy all over again. The guy who made my heart race and all I wanted was to be with him. I think I need to let go of all the past and forgive him. I should see him for who he is now, and that’s the guy who, despite all my hate, has made me feel . . . different.

  I’ll say this to you because you’re the only person I trust. I could fall in love with him so easily, but I won’t. I can’t, right? It would be stupid because we’ll never work.

  Okay, I lied to you and I can’t do that. I’m going to fall in love with him because he’s Ian and I’ve always loved him.

  Damn it.

  Oh, and since you’ll never read this I can tell you all the details. We had sex. We had really, hot, sweaty, dirty sex. We did it in bed and then against the wall. Like, the sex you read about in the romance novels. Which I kept, by the way. I figure if you love that Jack Valentini guy so much, I’ll read it and maybe torture Ian with how hot he is. We both know how much he loved it when you told him the stories.

  I love you. I miss you. I think about you every day.

  * * *

  Love,

  London

  * * *

  “Aunt London,” Morgan’s voice says in my ear.

  Shit.

  I close the laptop, hoping she didn’t read over my shoulder. Especially since I wrote about dirty sex.

  “Yes?”

  “Is it true that boys are mean to you when they like you? I mean, we know Uncle Ian is mean to you because he’s dumb, but are they all dumb?”

  “Who’s being mean to you?” I ask quickly, my hackles raised.

  I’m not a mom but these tiny people are like my kids. I may not have birthed them but I’ve been around since their mom pushed them out. So, they’re mine.

  “No one.” Morgan comes around and sits in front of me on the coffee table. “It’s just this boy I like is always such a jerk. He makes fun of me sometimes, and then when his friends aren’t around, he tells me I’m pretty.”

  Of all the people who she should ask for advice, I’m not the best choice. I’m sort of destined to be a spinster with a cat named after her favorite singer. My life choices regarding love haven’t really been stellar.

  “Have you asked your uncle or brother?”

  “Gross. No.”

  I laugh. “Okay, well, they’re both boys. They probably know a little more about this than me.”

  “They’re dumb.”

  “This is true, but Morgan, your uncle was definitely mean to me and I think he likes me a lot.”

  Her smile grows and she scrunches her shoulder. “I know. It’s so cute. He was stressing out so much about today. I really think he likes you.”

  “My point is that sometimes we’re really mean to people we love because feelings can be so extreme.”

  She leans forward, elbows resting on her knees and her head on her hands. “So you love him then?”

  “I’m not talking to you about this.”

  “Why not? Who am I going to tell? Besides, I think it’s great you guys are old and finding love again.”

  “Watch it,” I warn.

  “Tell me and I promise I won’t say anything.”

  She’s so half-Sabrina—the devious half. I remember all too well the things she was able to get out of me because of conversations like this.

  “It’s getting late and you need to get to bed.”

  “Are you staying here tonight?” she asks.

  I see right through this one too, Morgan.

  “I am, but you know that’s because I would never leave you three in the house alone. Nice try, pumpkin.” I tap her nose with a smirk.

  “Ugh. I hate when you call me that.”

  “I know, but you’re so cute.”

  “Whatever.” Morgan rolls her eyes. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Goodnight, honey. Listen, if that boy isn’t able to be nice in front of others, then he’s not worth your time. People show you who they are when others are around. Know what I mean?”

  Morgan nods. “I get it. Goodnight.”

  She gives me a hug and then heads off.

  All the kids are in their rooms and I feel very out of place. Do I go to his room? Do I get changed? This is so weird. I take a deep breath and head to Ian’s room. I’m likely to fall asleep and the last thing I want is him thinking I was on the couch because I didn’t want to be here. Which is its own problem since I really want to be here.

  I want him.

  I want to be with him.

  I want to thank him for everything today.

  More than anything, I just want to be in his arms.

  I grab my phone and send him a text.

  * * *

  Me: Kids are in bed. I’m exhausted so . . . your bed or couch?

  * * *

  He responds not even ten seconds later.

  * * *

  Ian: In my bed . . . where I want you.

  Me: Is that so?

  Ian: Damn right it is.

  Me: I’ll probably be asleep by the time you get here.

  Ian: I don’t care. I just want you next to me.

  * * *

  My pulse quickens and I smile.

  * * *

  Me: You’re being awfully sweet lately.

  Ian: No, I’m just acting the way I should’ve with you. I’ll see you soon.

  Me: Be safe. See you soon.

  * * *

  I don’t have
anything sexy to wear in general, and I don’t want to sleep in what I brought. I slide my pants down and rummage for something in his closet. In the back, there’s a shirt that stands out amongst the dress shirts. Being the nosey bitch that I am, I check it out. When I pull the shirt out, I smile and clutch it to my chest. I bought him this shirt when he got the acceptance letter to UNLV. I went out to get him something to show him how proud I was.

  It was cheesy, but Ian wore it that day and thanked me with a kiss on the cheek. It was the first time his lips ever touched my skin.

  I remove my shirt and bra, slipping the UNLV shirt over my head.

  And now I wait, but I’m so tired I might have to stick toothpicks in my eyes to stay awake.

  Next thing I know, arms are around me and a leg is between both of mine, and I’m hot. Like, sweltering.

  I roll over, finding myself cocooned and sweating. However, he looks so sweet. I touch Ian’s face. I move his stubble between the pads of my fingers, loving the tiny prickly sensations.

  It goes from soft and smooth to rough and then back again, just like us.

  His eyes open slowly as he smiles. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “Did I wake you?” His voice is gruff from sleep.

  “No.”

  “You were passed out. I guess I was tired too.”

  My fingers moves down his neck and I rest them there. “What time did you get in?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  “How was work?”

  “Work.” He smiles. “How were the kids?”

  I shrug a little. “Kids.”

  “I love the shirt. You look good in my clothes.” His eyes glimmer in the moonlight.

  “Yeah?” I ask as the desire starts to build.

  “You look good out of my clothes too, but that shirt . . .”

  I was such a fool to think I could resist him. It’s a miracle I did it for this long. All I want right now is to feel him in every way. My heart begins to beat so hard in my chest I worry it’ll explode, but tonight, I need to be one hundred percent with Ian.

  “Why this shirt?” I ask as I sit up.

  “I remember when you gave it to me.”

  I slowly lift the hem, pulling it over my head and exposing my breasts. “You should have it back if it means that much to you.”

  His eyes travel from my face to my breasts, lingering there. He swallows loudly and I square my shoulders a bit.

  “London.” His voice sounds like it’s about to crack. “We don’t have to . . .”

  “Shh.” I press my finger to his lips. “We don’t have to do anything, but I want to. I want you and us and I want you to make love to me, Ian.”

  He sits up, his hands cupping my cheeks as he comes closer to my lips. “Are you sure?”

  My hand rests on his chest and I nod. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

  And then Ian kisses me.

  This kiss is different from anything we’ve shared recently. The emotions I’m feeling are heightened and I grow dizzy from his kiss. Our tongues are gentle, moving with each other in the softest ways.

  “God, I’ve dreamt of this,” he says, and then his lips are moving down my throat.

  “Not as much as I have.”

  He lays me down on the pillow and sits up on his knees. Ian pulls my panties down, tossing them to the floor.

  “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

  I shake my head.

  “Then allow me to show you how I see you.” Ian’s hands cup my breasts, he kneads, and rubs his thumb around my nipple. “You’re more beautiful than any other woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  “Ian,” I moan as he starts to flick his thumb against my nipple.

  “What baby?”

  “I want you,” I pant. “I need you.”

  “You’re going to have it all, but first I’m going to love your entire body with my mouth.”

  Yes, freaking please.

  He leans down, taking the pebbled peak in his mouth and lavishing it with his tongue. My fingers glide to the back of his head, holding him there, needing him to keep going. His hand moves down my belly and he starts to mimic the movement of his mouth against my clit.

  Around and around, pushing me higher until I break out in a cold sweat.

  It’s like he has a map to my body and is hitting every checkpoint.

  He moves down my body, his tongue sliding along my skin. “I want you to come on my tongue.”

  My legs are tossed over his shoulders, and his mouth is on me before I can protest.

  “Holy shit,” I cry out as his tongue moves over my clit.

  I know we did this a few nights ago, but it’s a hundred times better than I remember. He moves his mouth in just the right way, sucking on the tiny bundle of nerves, pulling pleasure in a way that only he can.

  My body stiffens as my orgasm begins to approach. I moan and grip the sheets, the pressure building to the point where I’m going to erupt. Then he begins to finger me, and I call out his name.

  “I’m going to come,” I pant.

  He moans, sending vibrations through my pussy, and I start to shake until I’m at the point where it’s almost pain. Ian curls his finger just the right way and I’m gone.

  “Oh, God.” I arch my back as he keeps going, making my orgasm go on and on. “Ian. Fuck. I can’t,” I mutter incoherently.

  “Fucking. Incredible,” he says as he climbs up my body.

  “Only because it’s you.”

  He pushes the hair off my face. “No, you’re incredible all the time. Together, we’re something else.”

  I reach my hand down, wanting to make him feel good. My hand wraps around his cock, and I begin to pump up and down. “I want you so much.”

  “You have me.”

  “I’m going to want you again. And again. And again.”

  He smiles down at me. “Baby, I’m going to have you every night. I’m going to make you addicted to this so you never leave me again.”

  I press my other hand to his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good. I need to be inside of you, London. I need to feel you.”

  “No condom,” I say, surprising myself.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t want anything else between us.” I touch his face. “No more barriers. I’m safe, and I’m on the pill.”

  He kisses me hard, almost as though he didn’t have a choice in the matter. “Nothing else will be between us, baby. Nothing.”

  Ian’s cock lines up at my entrance and I close my eyes.

  “Look at me,” he commands.

  I obey. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. In his gaze, I see everything he’s feeling. Regret, desire, hope, and then, right before he pushes inside, his eyes fill with love. A love that two people shared what feels like a million years ago.

  One I thought was gone forever.

  “London.” He says my name like a prayer. “Do you feel that?”

  I nod. “I feel everything.”

  I never would admit it to anyone, but hating Ian was always easier than admitting I loved him. He was the first boy I loved. And if I’m honest, he’s the only man I’ve ever wanted to love me back. My heart would ache when I saw him with anyone else. The day he married Jolene, I cried. He was mine.

  He’s always been mine.

  Right now, I’m his.

  Ian pushes deeper inside me, and his voice is deep and husky. “You feel like home.”

  Tears fill my eyes, blurring his gorgeous face. It’s too much.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asks.

  “The opposite.”

  My hands cup his cheeks and I pull his mouth to mine. Tears run down my cheeks as I kiss him. Every emotion I ever locked away comes flooding forward and I feel each one ten times stronger than when I’d locked it up. I can’t contain it any longer.

  I’m irrevocably in love with Ian Chase.

  Sixteen

  London

 
“London,” my boss snaps from across the conference table. “Are you even listening to me?”

  I straighten up in my chair and refocus on my laptop screen. The truth is I have not been listening to him for at least the last five minutes, and I was probably only half-listening for the hour before that—actually, make that the last month. “Sorry, Casey.” I clear my throat. “You were saying?”

  “Christ, London. You’ve been so distracted lately, I don’t even know what to do with you. And you’re late all the time now too. Or you’re leaving early. Is there a problem I need to know about?”

  “No. No problem.” Quite the contrary, in fact. Since Ian and I have been—I don’t even know what to call it . . . dating? Sleeping together? Playing house? Whatever—I’ve never been happier.

  “Then would you mind paying attention to what I’m saying and not staring off into space like my goddamn sixteen-year-old daughter when I’m talking to her? I get that she couldn’t care less about what I have to say, but you’re still looking at a promotion this year. If you want my full recommendation, you’d better at least do a better job pretending to give a fuck.”

  I frown. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  But the moment he starts to drone on about the economic impact of lower energy prices on the gaming industry in certain states, my mind starts to wander again.

  To Ian’s lips. And his eyes. And his hands. And his voice. To the way he curls his body around mine when he crawls into bed with me after work. To the way he kisses me goodbye in the morning before I sneak back to my house, tiptoeing across the lawn with a grin on my face.

  I’ve been showering and dressing for work at home, but I go back to Ian’s to help him get the kids off to school before going to the office, which is why I’ve been coming in late. Ian always has a cup of coffee waiting for me when I return. He kisses me hello, as if we haven’t spent the entire night in each other’s arms, and we share a secret smile that leaves me a little breathless. Or maybe it’s his messy hair leaving me breathless. His bare chest and low-slung pajama pants. He’s got that V thing that peeks out above the drawstring waist, and the sight of it sets off a massive wave of butterflies in my stomach.