A Daughter's Trust Page 12
They’d been rescuing her from intimacy for years.
But tonight, though she held her cell in her hand, she wasn’t dialing. There was something about Rick Kraynick. She didn’t get it.
She didn’t do intimacy.
What quiet time she had left after babies and bookwork was spent alone. Always had been. Yet she’d invited him over.
Again.
She answered the door when he knocked. Looked him straight in the eye. Smiled.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to be here.” His voice was low. Husky. He smiled back.
Before he could lean in for another one of those devastating kisses, Sue led him into the living room. A place he’d been before. She watched him sit in the same spot on the couch he’d sat the night they kissed. She wanted him there.
Badly.
He was in jeans again. And a button-down blue plaid shirt. He didn’t kick off his loafers. Loosen his shirt. Or reach for her. He just put an arm along the back of the couch, watched her stand with a hand on one of the bassinets lined neatly along the wall, and said, “Okay, out with it.”
“You make me crazy with feelings and I need…this…but I’m scared.” They were way past game playing.
“This? As in us? Being friends?”
“Having sex.”
He frowned, but looked more baffled than displeased. “You mean tonight? Because, while I always hope, I certainly don’t come over here counting on getting you into bed. Or thinking tonight will be the night.”
God, he was so sweet. Why in the hell couldn’t she have met the man before she became the person she was? Before she’d gone to college and changed herself forever?
“Not just tonight. I…the intensity between us…it’s hard to take.” She was tired, that was all. She’d missed William at bath time tonight. And dinner. But that would pass. It always did.
“Hard to take?” Rick sat forward, on the edge of the couch, his arms on his knees. “How? I’m nothing to be afraid of, Sue. What have I done?”
“Invaded my thoughts.” Her honesty was going to get her in trouble. She just knew it. But silence, allowing whatever had been building between them to continue growing, would be worse. “I think about you,” she continued, all the confusion she felt inside spilling out. “I watch for your car, happy you might appear unexpectedly. I can be in a rotten mood, and you call and suddenly the world is fine.”
“I’m going through all the same stuff.”
“Well, stop.”
“I don’t seem to be able to do that.”
That got her. “You’ve tried?”
“Not really.”
She wanted him. Now. “I hate not being in control.”
“Of me? Or of yourself?”
“Of me. Of my feelings. The situation.”
The warm, full look in his eyes flooded her with feeling, until she was drowning in sensations she couldn’t identify, analyze or control.
Rick stood and took her hand. She looked up at him. Moved when he tugged her gently forward. And withstood his gaze as he studied her.
She watched his head lower. He was coming closer, and she did nothing to stop him. His mouth covered hers.
Sue thought she whimpered. She knew she soared. God, life had never felt like this. Never so vital. So…intense.
And then he pulled her down to the couch.
“Tell me why you’re so afraid of losing control.”
Uh-uh. That kind of stuff led to secrets. Telling them.
“You never know what might happen.”
“Oh, I think in this situation what’s going to happen is pretty clear.”
His arm around her, he ran his fingers through her hair. She shivered. And craved more.
“You’ve had a lover, right?” The question wasn’t judgmental, one way or the other. Maybe that was why it wasn’t threatening, either.
“Yeah. A couple.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“What does that mean?”
“I felt nothing.” Just like she was scared to death she was going to feel if he ever touched her down below. She was going to turn off. Back away. Emotionally first, then physically.
“You said it had been longer than a year for you. How much longer?”
Wetting parched lips, she said, “A lot.”
His hand moved from her hair to her shoulder. Beneath her T-shirt. He’d know by now that she wasn’t wearing a bra. If he hadn’t already figured that out.
“Was someone…rough with you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“No. It wasn’t anything like that. I can’t…don’t…”
“Maybe you just weren’t with the right man.”
No man was the right man. When anyone got too close, she dried up.
“I want to make love to you, Sue. Now.”
“Rick…” That was it. She couldn’t come up with anything more.
“I like it when you say my name.”
She liked him. Too much.
“I wasn’t kidding, Rick. I don’t do intimacy well. I can’t come through for you.”
“Why don’t you let me decide what you do for me?”
Shaking her head, Sue told herself to move away from him. She had to get away. She wasn’t arguing the point; she just wasn’t moving yet, either.
“I’ll hurt you,” she said.
“How can you if I have no expectations?”
She thought about that.
“You’ve been honest with me from the beginning, Sue. About everything. You and I don’t agree about Carrie’s future. You’ve been very clear about your need to remain unattached. And I believe you.”
“Then…”
“I still want to make love with you.”
“Why?”
“This is the first completely good feeling I’ve known in months. I don’t just want to have sex. I’m consumed by this need to make love to you. I want your mind connected to mine, your heart and soul. And your body. Just for moments, if that’s all you have. I’ve never felt anything like this and I damn sure don’t want to die never knowing where it goes.”
She wanted him, too. For the moment.
“If I say stop, you stop,” she told him. “No matter what.”
“That’s a given.”
“And when I disappear, you don’t get mad.”
“Of course not. It’s mutual all the way or it doesn’t happen. Period.”
“And no expectations.”
“None.”
Her body was so on fire she could hardly hold on to rational thought. “I’m not going to change my mind about Carrie,” she told him.
“I know that.”
“I can’t do what you want.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m aching and miserable and you are exactly what I need to get to heaven.” Rick leaned forward, pushing her back along the couch, coming down to lie on top of her. With one of his legs between hers, he moved along her thigh. Back and forth. Up and down. Rubbing his thigh against her as he did so.
And his penis against her leg.
He was rock hard. And felt so good. So right. So…hers.
“I give up,” she whispered, licking her lips and then his. “Make love to me, Rick, before I lose what sanity I have left.”
RICK TOOK HIS TIME. He should be racing to the finish, unable to wait after so long. Hornier than horny from their nights of sex talk. Instead, he savored every second with her. Being with Sue wasn’t about orgasm. It was about connecting with her. Learning her better than anyone ever had before.
He touched her through her clothes, first. His body against hers. And then with his hands. All over her. He wanted to know what that space on the inside of her elbow felt like. The joint between her torso and her thighs. He touched her behind the knees and at the base of her throat. He ran his hands over her bottom. And again.
She let him. And his penis, already hard, stiffened more.
Her breasts were soft. Full. He cou
ld hardly believe he had them in his hands. Her nipples quickly became buds beneath his fingers. He stimulated them until she was rocking beside him. Pushing up against him.
He had to pull his hips back before he spilled himself.
He didn’t even have her clothes off yet.
Pushing her hand between them, Sue tugged at the strap of his belt, releasing it. His jeans came undone just as quickly.
And he could breathe again. Sort of.
“You okay?” he asked, her fingers on his pants.
“Umm-hmm.” With her lips against his ear, then his mouth, she rolled, and he let her, helping her up on top of him.
He didn’t help much when, over the next several minutes, she took her time undressing the rest of him. He watched, though.
Oh, God, he watched.
As she unbuttoned his shirt. Ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. And down to his navel. As she teased his nipples. And brushed against the hair she’d exposed at his groin.
She sat astride him and slowly lifted up her top. Very slowly.
“You’re asking for trouble,” he half growled, half groaned.
“Yeah. I thought so.” But she didn’t change her course.
And that’s when Rick stopped being a spectator. As soon as her breasts were out there for him to see, he touched them. Pulled her down to him. Kissed them.
Kissed as much of her as he could reach. And then he rolled her over onto her back, lying beside her as he finished undressing her and spread her legs. Caressed her. Learning from her expression where and how she best liked his touch.
How to drive her wild.
And then, sliding in between those spread legs, Rick tested her body. She was slick and eager and he buried himself inside her. Again and again. Finding something he didn’t know existed. In himself. In her. Between the two of them.
Bringing them to a simultaneous orgasm that catapulted him back into the land of the living.
“Don’t ever let it be said that you can’t,” he said, breathless, as he sank against the couch. “’Cause I gotta tell you, lady, you can. Oh, God, you can.”
“That was…a new thing.” Her voice sounded strangled.
He’d done it to her, too. Good.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“MOM. ABSOLUTELY DO NOT give Uncle Sam that necklace.” Sue was lying in bed Friday morning, still in her pajamas at nine-thirty.
“He’s going to contest the will, sweetie.”
Sue and Michael had been up several times during the night, though the little boy didn’t have a fever or any other obvious sign of discomfort.
“I know. And so what? He’s not going to win. He’s just making an ass of himself.” Carrie had slept through the night, as usual, but had been up at six.
“He’s my brother, Sue. I love him.”
And right now, Michael and Carrie were in her king-size bed with her. Sound asleep. The peace was nice.
“I know,” she said. “But that doesn’t make him right.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Luke interjected. They had her on speakerphone, as always.
“It’s not so much a matter of right and wrong,” Jenny argued. “The whole situation’s a mess. We’re all different than we thought we were. And Sam’s identity, his belief that he was the head of the family—I don’t know. It meant a lot to him. He idolized our dad. And now what has he got to idolize? One man, loving two women, it’s just…how do you make that right?”
“It’s not right that Uncle Sam is pressuring you.” Sue couldn’t help her mother as much as she should. Couldn’t be her strength. Mostly because she was struggling too much herself.
“Maybe not, but he’s not been treated fairly, either.”
“Your mother has a point here, Sue.”
She adjusted the pillow behind her, pulling another over, sitting more upright.
“Think about it,” Jenny continued, sounding almost defensive. On her brother’s behalf. “He was raised as our dad’s only namesake, his only son, and with Dad’s constant guidance, spent his entire life trying to live up to Dad’s expectations. Only to find out, and not from his father, that Dad has another son, an older son. And a grandson, too. And he was told by Dad that as a symbol of the family legacy, he’d have the Carson diamond.”
“He was lied to, like the rest of us,” Sue said, resting a hand against Carrie’s side. Was the baby going to grow up knowing the truth of her heritage? And would she also be loved and adored? Or only cared for?
“He says he wants to give the necklace to Emily—”
“And I think he’s playing your mother, Sue,” Luke interrupted, with more compassion than accusation. “He said he and your mother were the real Carsons and they had to stick together.”
Sue bit back a surge of anger. Her mother had spent her entire life trying to gain Sam’s acceptance. And the bastard knew it.
Belle’s father. A man who was misguided, most definitely. The bastard who was the only one in the family who wasn’t truly a bastard in the literal sense.
“Mom, please. Just hang on to the necklace.”
“He says he’ll will it to you,” Jenny said.
“Grandma wanted you to have it. Uncle Sam might have been her only birth child, but she saw him for what he was. And she didn’t want him to have it, Mom. There’s obviously a reason for that. Please trust her judgment and hang on to it.”
Her judgment? Grandma had lied to them.
“I think your grandmother was afraid Uncle Sam would sell the necklace,” Luke said.
“I don’t think he would,” Jenny insisted.
“I do.” Sue had no doubt about it. Sentimental value meant nothing to Sam. And the diamond was worth more money than Sue wanted to think about. “But I don’t think that’s why she wanted Mom to have it. I think Grandma was telling Mom something about being a Carson. Reinforcing that she truly loved mom as a daughter. Just make sure it’s safe, Ma,” she added. “And hold on to it. Let’s deal with having Uncle Adam and Joe in our lives, first.”
“Right,” Luke said. “And by the way, Sue—”
“Yes, by the way,” Jenny piped, the renewed energy in her voice alerting Sue that her mother was coming after her again. “You knew your cousin Joe before Stan’s announcement. Brought him to the funeral. What was that about?”
It was time for a baby to wake up. To cry and pull her away. She considered lying. And heard Grandma’s voice, from almost twenty years ago, telling her that she didn’t have to be who her parents wanted her to be—that she was perfect being just who she was—but that she owed it to them and to herself to always be honest with them.
And with few exceptions, she always had been. She kept secrets, but she didn’t lie.
Funny that the woman who’d taught her that was the biggest liar of all.
“I was friends with him in high school.” She finally gave them the version of the truth she could. “We ran into each other again a few years ago, when I was looking for clients. He’s the builder I do books for.”
“In high school?” Jenny sounded bewildered.
“We never heard of a Joe Fraser,” Luke added, a second behind his wife. “How could you have known him?”
Ah, guys…“I just didn’t mention him, that’s all.”
“You were just acquaintances, then,” Jenny said.
“More than that. He was in the group with Shelly and Brian and the rest.”
“He was the one!” Jenny sounded as though a great mystery had been solved.
Carrie stirred, but didn’t wake up. Her chubby cheeks with their bright pink spots scrunched and relaxed.
“What one?” Sue asked.
“The boy you didn’t want us to know about.”
Shaking her head, having a hard time believing this bizarre conversation, she asked, “How’d you find out there was a boy?”
“A mom knows these things,” Jenny said.
And Luke added, “The way you went off into your own thoughts and
then grinned was a pretty good giveaway, too.”
“I can’t believe this!”
“So why didn’t you tell us about him, Sue?” Jenny’s question held no bitterness.
Because he never wanted to come to the house. Sue was tempted to offer the easy answer. But not the truthful one.
Just like Grandma.
“Joe was my attempt to be my own person,” she finally said softly, praying they’d understand. That what she said didn’t hurt them more than lying to them would have. “I was young and…”
“And you had to have your own life,” Luke said. “You were going to leave our nest soon and you had to find out if you could make it without us.”
Sue sank back into the pillows. “I can’t believe you guessed I liked someone, and didn’t ask about him.”
“You were making a bid for independence. We had to respect that.”
Were these her parents? In her life? Because this wasn’t how she’d seen it at all. Wow.
“I don’t have any idea what to say.”
“Just tell us that you and Joe…you didn’t—” Jenny broke off, and for once Luke didn’t jump in.
“No!” Sue said quickly. And then, glancing at the babies asleep beside her, lowered her voice. “No. We held hands. That’s all.”
“So you and Adam’s son were close friends,” Jenny mused. “I’m glad that you at least grew up knowing one of your relatives.”
Unlike Jenny. Who hadn’t known Joe, or Adam or her own mother.
“Yeah,” Sue said. “Me, too.”
“And he’s a good guy?”
“The best, though he’s a lot more reserved now then he was in school.”
“Do you think he’d help us get his dad into the family? Adam’s answered a couple of my calls, but always has to go right away. He’s my full brother,” Jenny said. “I really really want to get to know him.”
Full brother. The facts hit Sue again. And still seemed so foreign. So impossible. As though she were living someone else’s life.
And then something else occurred to her. If her mother developed a relationship with Adam, then maybe she wouldn’t need Uncle Sam’s acceptance so badly. Maybe she’d find that inner peace that had been missing most of her life.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, making a mental note to call Belle to see how she was doing setting up a dinner with them and the Frasers.