“Really?”

  I nod. “Martin’s a great guy, and Jade wanted stability and more than I could offer. I knew they’d be the perfect fit.”

  Rebel leans closer, her elbows on the table, her face aglow in the candlelight. “He doesn’t feel weird about you being near his wife?”

  I shake my head. “They’re married, sugar. He knows as well as I do the importance of the promise and commitment they made to each other. It’s a line I’d never cross even if she begged, which she hasn’t. I moved on, and clearly, so did she.”

  “So, like…” Rebel looks around, seeing where Jade is before she says, “That’s it? They don’t come to the club anymore? They just left?”

  I clasp my hands around hers, not answering when I see Jade come our way. This is going to be a long conversation, and I can see in Rebel’s eyes this isn’t the end of the questions.

  “Here we go,” Jade says softly as she places two glasses on the table. “Martin should be here with the wine any minute. I’ll have the chef prepare your appetizer first. I hope you’re hungry because you two are in for an absolute treat.”

  “Thank you, Jade,” I tell her, giving her a smile, remembering the sweet person she was and not the sexual being.

  Jade gazes at Rebel and smiles, not getting one in return this time before scurrying away into the kitchen.

  “Be nice, Rebel. Jade’s done nothing wrong.”

  “I am nice.”

  I smirk, studying her face and the way her lips are pinched. “Are you jealous?”

  “No.”

  That’s a hard yes. I like seeing the jealousy in her eyes, especially after she said she wanted to take things slow. Maybe it wasn’t the kiss of death, but instead a way for her to guard her heart.

  “You are.”

  She leans back, dropping her arms into her lap. “It’s just really strange.”

  “Here we are,” Martin says, holding a bottle of red wine in one hand and showing it to me. “Good?”

  “Perfect, Martin.” I give him a smile, dipping my chin when his eyes meet mine.

  Under any other circumstances, seeing Martin and Jade would be normal, but with Rebel and how quickly she caught on to our history, it’s more than awkward. Things like this are bound to happen living in a town so small and with the way I blew through women over the last ten years.

  Martin makes quick work of pouring our wine before leaving us alone again, joining his wife in the kitchen.

  We have the dining room to ourselves again, and I use the time to try to be as informative and open as possible. “Have you ever run into someone you’ve slept with before while out in public?”

  “Well, yeah. Of course.”

  “Was it weird?”

  “No.”

  “Did you feel something for them even after a long time of not being with them?”

  “Of course not.”

  “It’s the same, Rebel. Martin and Jade are my friends. Our community at the club is small, and we’re friends above everything else. We respect one another’s boundaries, and when sexual relationships are severed, there’s still respect and friendship afterward. I love Martin and Jade like family, but nothing more than that. They feel the same. How did you even know about it to ask?”

  She lets out a long, dramatic exhale. “I saw her text this morning.”

  It all clicks. Rebel and I were fine, and then I walked out of the bedroom and she changed. Something had changed her, and it was nothing I did. She went from running super-hot to luke-fucking-warm in a matter of hours.

  “I thought you were meeting a woman named Jade tonight for sex. I’m sorry I looked—”

  I lift my hand. “It’s fine, sugar. I was just trying to surprise you and didn’t even think about Jade texting me. I’ll be sure to be more mindful in the future.”

  “No. Don’t,” she tells me, giving me her eyes, the softness back in her face. “I shouldn’t be so sensitive. I’m still learning the new you, and with me just showing up, I’m sure I’ve cut off someone’s time with you.”

  “I haven’t been to the club in almost a year. You haven’t taken me from anyone, and even if there had been anyone, I would’ve quickly ended things with them the moment you walked back into my life.”

  She leans her body back over the table, putting one hand on her wineglass and the other one near her napkin. “So, there’s no one else?”

  I reach across, covering her hand with mine again. “No one else, Rebel. Only you.”

  She smiles a genuine smile. “The only one,” she repeats.

  “It’s always been you.”

  In this moment, I know I need to do everything possible to make Rebel understand there has never been nor will ever be anyone else except her.

  18

  Rebel

  My lips are on Rocco’s before the front door closes. He snakes his arms around my back, and I use the opportunity to wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his middle.

  He kisses me back, hard and deep, making my toes curl in my sandals.

  I want this.

  The date nights.

  The candlelight.

  The honesty.

  When he looks at me, I feel like the most special girl in the world. I don’t feel like a run-down mom with stretch marks and bags under my eyes from the stress that’s etched on my face after decades of bullshit.

  Rocco makes me feel beautiful.

  He does that.

  No one else did.

  Not Collin. Not Beau.

  I didn’t feel cherished in the same way, but I allowed myself to be used, searching for the happiness I thought I’d find in their arms. But I knew where it was all along.

  I’d only felt it once before, and it was ten years ago, before we were torn apart by a tragedy that had scarred us both.

  “I want you,” I whisper against his lips.

  He tightens his arms, pressing my body flat against his. He is hard everywhere I am soft and big where I am little.

  I love feeling small in his arms and the way his body envelops me when he holds me, kissing me rough and hard like he is now.

  He moves through the living room with me in his arms, holding on tight, unwilling to let me go. When his ass hits the couch, his cock presses into my pussy, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

  My fingers move to the bottom of his T-shirt, yanking it upward, breaking the kiss to lift it over his head and exposing his rock-hard body.

  “Your body’s fucking amazing,” I whisper in the faint glow from the streetlights streaming through the bank of windows in the living room.

  His hands are on my ass, kneading each cheek as I gawk at him. “Sugar, you’re the one who’s amazing.” He runs his finger over my cleavage, setting my skin on fire with the soft touch. “Every inch of your body is a playground built for my pleasure.”

  My core convulses and he smirks. Wait. Did he… I cock my head.

  “I felt it.”

  “Felt what?” I ask, stilling in his lap.

  “The way your pussy twitched.”

  My eyebrows rise. “What?” I whisper.

  “I can always feel how much you need and want me when you’re in my lap, pressed against my dick, with only a small scrap separating our bodies.”

  Fuck. Talk about embarrassing and something I never realized. I’m pretty sure most women don’t either.

  “Now give me your mouth again.”

  Without hesitation, I lean forward, touching my mouth to his, loving the way his lips still taste of wine but sweeter.

  My hands roam his upper body, gliding over the silky smoothness of his skin. His body has changed so much from when we were practically kids, but definitely for the better.

  One of his hands leaves my back, moving to my neck, gripping me from behind. I gasp into his mouth, loving the roughness of his touch.

  “You like that, Rebel?” he murmurs, not giving me a chance to answer with words because my body does it for him. He grunts, feeling the twitch, which I seem to be powerless to stop.

  My body is a traitor, and my pussy is a whore. Definitely a whore when it comes to Rocco Caldo.

  He tightens his fingers around the sides of my neck, holding my head in place, controlling the depth of his kiss. I can feel his hunger as his tongue slips between my lips, dancing with mine.

  I flatten my palms, letting him take me where he wants, giving in to him and his touch completely. Straddling his legs, I’m his to take and powerless to stop him. I’ve always been a sucker for him, and time hasn’t changed the way my body craves his touch.

  My fingers drift lower, following the line between his abs until they land on his jeans. He doesn’t stop me as I undo the button, pulling the zipper down slowly. He raises his hips, and I yank down the denim, freeing his hard length. My fingers are around the thickness a second later, stroking him firmly and long, paying careful attention to the tip.

  He moans into my mouth as his fingers tighten around my neck a little more, totally restricting my ability to move my head. Electric shocks scatter across my body as I move my hand faster, stroking him with the speed at which I wish he were fucking me.

  When his hand leaves my neck, I feel naked, but his lips never go away. I shiver as his fingertips slide under my T-shirt, lifting the material over my stomach. I raise my hands, moving my lips away from his for only a second for him to pull it over my head.

  My bra is nothing for a man as experienced as him. One hand and it’s gone, discarded to the floor like it is meaningless.

  He pats my ass, saying, “Up, baby. Take them off.”

  I moan in agitation, not wanting to get off him or remove my hands from the dick I’ve been enjoying stroking for a few minutes.

  But when I stand, with the way he looks at me and the heat in his eyes, I still feel connected with him.

  “Go slow,” he tells me when I hook my fingers into the waistband of my pants.

  I push them down, about to bend forward, when he moves his hand to his cock, wraps his fingers around where mine have just been, and starts to work it in the same way I did.

  My lips part as I watch him touch himself, wondering how many times he’s done that and thought of me.

  I bend over, slowly pushing my pants down my legs but getting my face closer to his impressive package. He does stroke the same way, twisting his hand slightly when he reaches the top, yanking on it harder than I could’ve possibly imagined would be pleasurable.

  His eyes roam over my body, moving from my breasts to my stomach and down to the hair between my legs when I stand. My younger self waxed often, but the mom in me doesn’t find it practical anymore.

  “You’re perfect, Rebel,” he whispers, his voice deep and thick.

  I feel beautiful when he says those words and with the way his eyes rake over me, full of hunger. I drop my panties on top of the pile with my other clothes, standing before him completely naked.

  “Crawl to me,” he says. “Wrap those pretty red lips around my cock.”

  I don’t even think as I bend my knees, finding the hardwood floor, and I move my body in his direction in the most catlike way I’ve ever moved in my life.

  Placing my hands on his jeans, I lift myself up as he pushes his cock down toward my lips. I open my mouth, stick out my tongue, waiting for him to give me a taste of the piece of him I’ve wanted inside me since the last time.

  He doesn’t force it down my throat, but instead slides it slowly across my tongue, hitting every taste bud with his hard softness. I stare up at him, his eyes pinned on mine as he lifts his hips, guiding his dick into my mouth.

  I close my lips, sucking on him as he pulls out even slower before sliding it back inside.

  “Do it slow, baby. I want to enjoy this,” he says, releasing his hand from around his cock, giving me control.

  I put my hands where his have been, working his length while paying special attention to the tip with my mouth.

  His fingers tangle in my hair, guiding me up and down, but not being forceful, which is a nice change. I love the way he tastes, the soft moans leaving his lips, and how his hips move with me and chase my mouth.

  I smile around his dick, humming my appreciation as he shivers. I feel powerful like this, with my hands around him, sucking him off.

  But far too quickly, his hands are under my arms, lifting me in the air and planting me in his lap. “Ride me, baby. Fuck me how you want to be fucked,” he rasps.

  And I do. His hands are on my hips the entire time, tethering him to me as I ride his cock like I am a cowgirl. It feels like I do this forever, but it is probably only a few minutes before my knees start to shake and my motion begins to slow. That’s when Rocco’s hands go to my waist, lifting me up before slamming me down on his cock, keeping the same rhythm I’d set but haven’t been able to maintain.

  I lean forward, taking his mouth as he uses my body to fuck us both. My hands on his shoulders help keep me from falling over as I bounce on his body, powerless to stop him. My toes curl and my muscles tighten as his length strokes me from the inside, driving me closer to an orgasm I know will do me in.

  Only one.

  Not two.

  Not three.

  I only need to have one orgasm delivered by him to render me unable to speak or move. And when that orgasm comes, that’s exactly what happens.

  He follows me over the edge, grunting through each thrust until his hands still. “Fuck,” he hisses, loosening his pinching grip on my hips, both of us panting and sweaty.

  “We sure did,” I whisper before falling face first into his chest, unable to even sit up.

  “I could do this every night, sugar.”

  I like the sound of that, and so does my pussy—even though I just came, because it spasms, which is immediately met with his chuckle.

  “Again?” I murmur against the soft skin between his pecs.

  “Again.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, sighing. “Well, now I know.”

  “I do too, but that isn’t news.”

  “You hear that?” I ask, hearing nothing except for our breaths and the sound of our hearts pounding.

  “Peace?” he answers.

  “Yeah. It’s so quiet.”

  “I love that kid, baby, but a night alone has been nice. She brings joy to this house. A happiness I haven’t felt in here in a long time, but I needed tonight alone with you.”

  I smile against his skin. “Think we can still take it slow?”

  “I’ll do whatever you want, Reb, but there’s nothing in me that wants to go slow. I’ve done slow. I’ve done the alone thing for ten fucking years, and now that you’re back…I’m not ready for slow.”

  I push up, staring into his eyes. “I don’t want slow either,” I admit. “You make me feel alive. So freaking alive and, for the first time in my life, as if someone actually cares about me.”

  “My dick did all that, baby?”

  I push myself up and smack at his chest playfully. “Your dick is fabulous, sweetie, but it’s not a miracle worker.”

  “Like fuck, it isn’t,” he teases, smiling at me.

  “It is when you aren’t being a cocky asshole.”

  “I’m never a cocky asshole,” he argues.

  I raise an eyebrow, no smile on my face. “You’re eighty percent cocky asshole and twenty percent sweetness.”

  “Five percent sweetness and fifteen percent pussy whisperer.”

  I roll my eyes. “There’s the eighty coming out in you.”

  “The fifteen just made you come.”

  “Whatever. I’m being serious.”

  “Me too,” he tells me, running his hands up and down my back as I straddle his legs, my toes barely touching the floor. “There’s nothing about us that doesn’t work, Rebel.”

  I stare at him, hating that he’s right. “I know. But I want to take this slow, and I don’t know how to do that with you.”

  “Someday, I’ll put a ring on that finger. But until then, we just do what we do. Live life a little. Enjoy each other for a little while. Settle into whatever this is, and when we’re ready, we’ll take it to the next level.”

  My gaze drops to my hands when his stare becomes too much, just like his words. “Should I move out? I mean, maybe we need—”

  “No,” he interrupts me. “Don’t do that unless you think it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “Well, I…” I glance back up, finding his eyes watching me, always studying my expression. “I don’t have the money to move anywhere else right now.”

  “Stay with me, sugar. Later, after you get on your feet, if you want your own place, we’ll make it happen.”

  I swallow and blink, confused as to how well he seems to be taking this and even offering up a way that would work for both of us. “You wouldn’t be mad?” I whisper.

  He shakes his head, his hands splayed out across my back, his thumbs resting near my ass. “I wouldn’t be mad at all. I want your happiness more than I want my own.”

  Then my mind moves to Adaline. She’s been nothing but smiles since we got here, quickly getting attached to Rocco. “Addy needs to get enrolled in school. I know it’s only pre-K, but it’s—”

  “We’ll do it Monday.”

  “You’d go with me?”

  “Rebel. If we’re going to be a we, we’re going to be a we. It’s not you and then me—it’s us. We’re an us, babe.”

  Wow. I love that. Completely different from Beau and Collin, where they did their thing and never got involved in my life unless it was something that pissed them off…which, with Beau, seemed to be daily.

  “We’re an us.”

  He taps my butt, giving me a signal. “Up, sweetheart. I could use a shower. You want to join me?”

  I climb off, almost collapsing on my shaky legs until he catches me with one hand. “I think I need to sit here a while.”

  He smiles, moving my ass to the couch and standing in front of me, jeans still on but his cock out. “Just rest a bit. I’ll bring you to bed when I’m done.”

  I relax into the cushions, loving the softness against my skin, which probably has a zipper impression somewhere between my legs. “You’ll bring me to bed?”

  “You’re exhausted. Lemme spoil you.”