Killing Me Softly: A Romantic Suspense Anthology, page 188
He looks back at me. “I suppose I have you to thank for him showing up here. So, thank you. Even if he leaves tomorrow, this right here has meant the world to me.”
My eyes burn and my heart breaks for John and for Foster. Whatever happened, it has ruined their relationship, and I hate it for both of them.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” he says with a sad smile. “I’ll take care of the check. You should go to him. I’ll meet you two back home.”
“You’re sure?” I ask.
“Absolutely.”
I nod and remove myself from the table, heading down the steps to find Foster. I hit the sand and remove my shoes so I can feel it between my toes. What a wonderful sensation. The sun is drifting below the horizon now, coloring the sky in tangerine and lavender. I see him down by the water, his own feet void of shoes. He has one hand in his pocket while the other holds onto his beer as he gazes out.
I walk up behind him, smiling when the water touches my feet. “So beautiful.”
He looks down, but I can’t take my eyes off the sunset. “Yes,” he agrees quietly. I look up at him as he gazes at me. His eyes dart down to my lips. His face is painted orange by the sun, the wind blows his shirt against his stomach, and his eyes burn bright as the ocean reflects in them.
My heart begins pounding, and chills run down my spine at that gaze. That fiery look in his eyes. “I’ve tried to give you space,” he says. “But now I want to kiss you, and I don’t think I can stop myself.”
“So don’t.”
He tosses the beer on the beach before grabbing my face and pressing his lips to mine. He bites my bottom lip, causing a tingle between my legs. It’s a want I’ve never known before as he slides his tongue past my lips. He kisses me in a way that brands me. His tongue brushes against mine as his hand holds me possessively. I float, up, up, above us. Above this beautiful beach, dancing with the swirls of colors in the sky and bursts of sunlight.
The warm breeze slides between us, around us. The water splashes over our feet, causing us to sink as it descends. Feelings, uncertain and unfamiliar, spin in my chest. A rush like no other causes my heart to stumble and my mind to race. I don’t want to be away from this man.
Ever.
Because of him, I’ve seen a different side of the world. A richer side filled with beauty and wonder. My eyes are open, and my heart is full. I will never be the same, and I don’t want to be the same as I was. I want this new life, with this strong, kind, damaged man.
Is this love? This overwhelming sensation in my chest? I believe it is. I run my hand over the back of his head, feeling the short hair brush against my fingertips.
Foster stops and smiles against my lips. I smile back, breathing him in, as the wind whirls around us. Thunder booms across the water, causing me to look toward it.
Foster takes my hand, and I lean against his arm as we stare toward the rain showering down over the ocean miles away. “I’ve never seen the ocean before.”
“Well, I’m glad I could be the one to show you.”
“Me, too,” I murmur.
“I’m sorry I walked away from you.”
“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”
He sighs. “I guess you’re right.”
“You guess?” I say, nudging his arm. He turns, digging his fingers into my side. I giggle, and in one movement, he lifts me up and tosses me over his shoulder, smacking my ass.
“Don’t push it, woman.” He bends down and picks up the beer bottle, walking us back to the restaurant stairs, sliding me down the front of his body.
I feel every hard muscle, and I have the strongest need to feel one muscle specifically. I could let him have me right here, under this deck against the boards, with his lips all over me, his hands holding me. My clit throbs with a sweet ache.
As if he knows, he winks at me. “Later. Come, let’s get back.”
16
Foster
(Less Than Two Months Before the Party)
* * *
Dad sits on the dock, a fire roaring from his fire pit. A cooler of beer sits beside him. He doesn’t look my way as I near, only stares ahead as the sun disappears out of sight. I take a seat in the empty chair. Reaching down, I grab a beer from the cooler and twist the top off.
We don’t speak, we just sit, watching nature do her job, shifting from day to night. The creatures become louder, the water darker, the stars begin to twinkle, and fireflies begin to swarm.
“Your mother used to say, ‘Live a life of purpose. If you have a why to live, then you can almost always bear the how.’ After she passed, I looked at you as if you were my purpose. My why for this life. I wanted nothing more than your happiness, your success in whatever it was you wanted to be. Most days, I just wanted to make sure we both survived it, burnt SpaghettiOs and all.”
He looks down at the fire. “When you started showing up with broken animals, worrying yourself sick to save them, I saw it then. You’d fix wings so they could fly, legs to they could run again. You even gave CPR to a lizard. Do you remember that?” He chuckles.
“I thought this is what my son wants, to fix living creatures. And then you started bringing home medical books from the library and reading them for fun. I didn’t understand it, but I said right then, ‘All right, I have a new purpose. My son wants to be a doctor. So, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure he becomes a doctor.’
“I called my old friend, and I asked him for the loan, and he gave it to me without question. I’ll never forget the day he sent me the first check. Being able to get my son through medical school and seeing him happy with his success meant everything to me. Everything.
“And then I tried to pay the loan back. I’d been saving for years to do so, but he wouldn’t take it. He told me to keep my money. That you would work for him as payment. I’ve never been angrier, never been more helpless in my life. And then you stopped talking to me.” He shakes his head, his eyes filling with tears. “I deserved it, though. I knew that. My son, my purpose, was living a life in chains, tied to another until the day that man no longer breathes. I thought about killing him. I planned it out. I even showed up there one day and got close enough to shoot him, but his men stopped me, beat me black and blue, and left me in my truck with a note that said you’d be killed if I ever tried again.” He blinks away the tears, sniffing. “Goddamn, I’m sorry,” he says. He turns to look at me. “I’m so damn sorry, my boy.” Tears fall down his cheeks, and I put my beer down and hurry over to him. Bending down, I wrap my arms around him.
He stands up and holds me tighter.
“I’m sorry, too, Dad. I know you had good intentions. I know that.” Tears roll down my face for years of pain my dad has been feeling. For years of distance and the anger I have been feeling toward him. “Because of you, I’ve saved many lives. I’ve done great things. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I can’t apologize enough.”
He shakes his head. “No need.”
I wipe my face. “We can’t change the past, but I think we might be able to change the future.”
He sniffs, rubbing down his face after we pull apart. “How? What do you mean?”
“I’m tired of living like this. Caramela…she’s made me see things differently.”
He smiles. “She cares about you. I can see it.”
I nod. “I care about her, too.”
Damn, do I care about her. My life has been the same shit, different day for so long. I’ve just been moving through it, going through the motions. But ever since I found her, it’s like I’ve been woken up. Colors are brighter; life is fuller. I want that freely. Without worry of what might happen, without this heavy shit on my back. And I’m going to have it.
“Things are changing, Dad. The power is shifting within that family. And we’re going to take this opportunity and run.” I look over at him. “Will you come with me?”
“Yes, son. Of course.”
17
Foster
(Less Than Two Months Before the Party)
* * *
Leaving Dad down by the dock to fish and drink his beer, I head back up to the house, seeing the lamp on in the bedroom Caramela’s in. I didn’t want to presume she’d be sharing a room with me, so I put her things in another, but screw that. She’ll be staying with me tonight and every night after. I hurry up the steps, walking in the door. Russ lies by the couch, sleeping peacefully, fed, watered, and walked by Caramela. He’ll be good for the night.
I walk down the hall and lightly tap on her door before I hear her say come in. The doors creaks when I push it open and spot her standing near the bed. She’s got a towel around her body, and her hair is wet. The lamp covers her in a soft glow as water still rivers down her skin.
I shut the door behind me. Leaning against it, I slide my hands into my pockets. She looks at me, her fingers toying with the cotton of the towel.
“Don’t be nervous,” I tell her.
“If I am, it’s not because I’m scared,” she says, lifting her chin. I know now she’s not scared. Before, I wasn’t sure if it was me or just the fact she’d never had sex willingly. To even think about someone forcing himself on her burns my blood. The fact she’s never wanted it. How can anyone enjoy sex knowing it’s not conceded by the other person?
“Understood.”
It takes only a few steps before I have her in my arms. I don’t move at first. I only look into her soft brown eyes, grazing my thumbs over her cheeks. She snakes her arms around my back.
“Are you gonna kiss me or what?”
I grin, my lips seeking hers. I lift her up. She wraps her beautiful legs around me. I can feel the heat of her against my stomach as she runs her fingers over the back of my head, through my short hair. I walk us through the shared bathroom to my room on the other side.
Bigger bed.
I lay her down and step back, looking down at her. She swallows, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. I grab my shirt from the back collar and pull it over my head before tossing it. Her eyes rake down my chest as her hands stretch above her head. I look to her bent legs and she opens her thighs.
“Shit.” I nearly fall to my knees. I undo my shorts and pull them down before I step out of them. I grab my hard cock and pump it once as I look at her pussy spread open for me. Her eyes go to my hand and she watches as I stroke, moving my fingers over the tip.
I walk closer, holding her calf, my eyes darting to hers as I lick my fingers and plunge two inside of her. She arches and gasps as she grips the comforter.
I watch her face when her eyes close, her bottom lip going between her teeth while I move my fingers to make her feel good. I reach up and grab the towel, yanking it away from her body so she’s naked before me. The cold air hits her nipples and they pucker. I bend to lick them, pushing my fingers in deeper, harder, and then I place my thumb over the apex of her thighs, circling her clit.
Fingers moving, thumb pressing down as I lick and kiss her breasts. She twists on the bed, her thighs trying to close, but I hold them open as she begins to shake, her release causing the veins in her neck to protrude. Her chest moves rapidly, and her eyes close tightly as she trembles. I keep circling my thumb, moving my fingers until I’m sure she’s finished. She opens her eyes and sits up, grabbing my face to bring my lips to hers.
She kisses me with such need, such want and passion. Our breaths are the same, our souls intertwined. I fall over her, grabbing my cock to align with her entrance. I slide in easily, moaning against her lips as I fill her, and then I move. I thrust in and out as she licks my tongue. I hold myself up on the bed, driving forward, my cock hungry for more of her, pushing her up farther on the bed.
Will I ever get enough?
She wraps her legs around me tightly, pressing to keep me closer. I kiss down her neck, over the scar on her throat, the wound that nearly took her life, took her away from me before I ever got the chance to know her. The thought of never knowing her pains me, causing me to thrust deeper, wanting her to feel every inch of me.
The comforter bunches beneath her, and her tits bounce with every stroke. I pull out and then thrust back in, over and over, faster and harder until sweat trickles down my back. Look at this beautiful woman beneath me. This woman I’ve grown to trust and care about like no other. Her strength, her kindness. I could never thank her enough for bringing meaning to my life.
Purpose.
She’s mine and I am hers.
Together, we’re every love story that was ever written. Formed with the stars, approved by the moon, burning with the sun. I’ll always want her, need her more than my next breath. I kiss her lips, and she starts moaning louder. I feel her tighten around me, and I stroke out her release as she bites down on my lip, her mouth opening, her head falling back.
My mouth goes to her neck and I kiss and suck until I come with a growl, long and deep, earth-shattering and mind-blowing. I pump into her twice more, letting her milk me dry, until there’s nothing left and everything is too sensitive. My chest lies bare, my emotions raw.
We pant, our faces damp and flushed. And three little words nearly fall from my lips. Three words that would change everything.
I kiss her once more as she runs her hand down my back, her tongue dancing with mine slowly. Our bodies stay connected until I harden again. She’s so wet, so deliciously wet. I slide out easily and torturously slide back in. She moves her hips, moaning.
Who knew it could be like this? I groan against her lips. Reaching up to cup her breast, I run my thumb over her nipple, enjoying her slickness as my cock twitches, too sensitive. I keep moving, not being able to stop myself, not wanting to.
She pants, “I’m going to come again, Foster. Keep doing that.”
I oblige her, happily, feeling my balls tighten with the promise of another release. I reach down and circle her clit, tasting her lips, feeling the smoothness of her breasts against my chest. I thrust in over and over, keeping up the same rhythm.
“Oh,” she says as her legs shake around me. I pump in and shudder when I come once more, my lips against hers. Spent, I move off her and lie on the bed, my chest moving as I try to control my breathing. I look over at her as she exhales. “I’m going to need another shower.” She smiles.
I laugh. “Come on, let’s both get one.”
18
Gabriella
(Less Than Two Months Before the Party)
* * *
After Foster drags me out of bed and we shower, we lie in bed together with a movie playing on the TV.
I rest on my stomach as he draws circles on my back. “Foster?”
“Hmm?”
“The hospital room, does it have anything to do with your dad’s agreement with his friend?”
He stops moving his hand and I watch his face as he looks to the ceiling. “It has everything to do with it.”
I sit up on an elbow. “Care to explain?”
He sighs. “I work for someone.” He looks over at me. “When one of his men gets hurt, he calls me, and I fix them.” He runs his finger over my arm. “No questions asked. They don’t have to go to the hospital and don’t have to talk to the police about why they have to come to the hospital. They come to me, and I do my best to put them back together and then they leave. Nothing more.”
I bite my lip. “And you have no choice?”
“Right. They’ll kill my dad if I ever try to leave.”
Everything makes a little more sense now. The way he said not everything is as it seems, the reason he doesn’t enjoy his work anymore. I wouldn’t either if I was being forced to work for someone who’s obviously into crime. No one who wants to avoid being questioned by the police is ever up to any good. I knew that hospital room was something more. I didn’t understand before when he said he wasn’t free, but now… of course, he’d keep working for them to protect his dad.
“I want to get out of it,” he murmurs. “I want to run away from all of it.”
“Is that possible?”
“It might be. Things are changing with the person I work for. So, I might have an out.”
I bite my inner cheek, my eyes going to the sheets beneath us. “Where would you go?”
“I’d like to live by the coast. Start fishing again on my days off. I don’t know. Anywhere but where I live now.”
I sigh, dropping my elbow to lie flat. Sleep stirs, the long day beginning to take its toll. Foster reaches over and turns the TV off along with the lamp. He settles down beside me, grabbing me into his arms.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” he asks into the darkness.
I think of the winery, I think of my home and the people who work there. I miss it, I really do, but something inside of me feels different. Home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling. And I realize no matter where I am in the world, as long as Foster is with me—that’s home. Foster thrives here. It’s in his blood. My mind wanders to the future, to a future I think I’d like to have with him. Kids running around, smiling, looking like little beach bums. A house overlooking the ocean. I’m getting way ahead of myself, but he doesn’t have to know that.
“The coast sounds nice,” I murmur. He pulls me in tighter and kisses my neck. We don’t speak again, and I dream of white sand and turquoise water.
19
Foster
(Less Than Two Months Before the Party)
* * *
The afternoon sun beams down on our skin as we head back to Dad’s house to drop off him and the fish we caught. We woke up early this morning, got on the boat, and headed down to a small diner a little way from Dad’s to have breakfast.
