"Then, babe, what's the problem?"
"Will you like making love to me? Maybe I'm weird, and do something totally strange, but Alec never told me, because he loved me. What if I make funny noises, or drool?"
"Funny noises are part of the process. As for drool, as long as you're drooling because I'm so hot and sexy, I can work with that." Elam kissed her throat, his mouth traveling to her breast.
"I don't know if I'm ready to do this right now. How do you know when you're ready to move on?"
Elam's hand slid between her legs, rasping against the denim. His fingers pressed upward until she gasped.
"You like that?"
"Oh—yes!"
He nipped her earlobe. "You're ready."
"Will your mom like me?"
"My—what?" A puzzled frown flickered across his brow. "Mom? Where did that even come from? Of course, my mom will like you. Why?"
"Alec's mom hates me."
"You do know that talking about moms, especially the mother of your dead fiancé, is guaranteed to cool the mood, right?" He removed his hand, sitting up.
"I'm sorry. I just—I'm a horrible person!" Blythe burst out crying.
Elam found her shirt and slipped it over her head before putting on his own.
"You aren't a horrible person. You're confused and scared." He sat next to her, putting his arms around her as he brought her head to his shoulder.
"But you want sex, and I don't. I mean, I do—but I don't. Does that make any sense?"
"Yeah. And sure, I want sex, but it's no fun unless you participate, babe. You do want me, though," he assured her.
"So confident, Mr. Armitage. What makes you think I do?"
"The fact you've been all over me any chance you got. Not saying I mind," he added, defensively, as she bridled. "I love it. Makes getting in your pants a hell of a lot easier."
Blythe shoved at him. When he wouldn't let go, she hit him with a cushion. Elam laughed, kissing her protesting mouth.
"If that was all I wanted, would I still be here?"
Blythe pouted. "I guess not."
"Believe me, if a man simply wants to get laid, he goes for an easy mark. Bang the drunk chick at the party, pick up a girl in the bar, call an old girlfriend who's feeling frisky. You don't go for the girl who has dreams of accidents, and mourns here dead fiancé. Nope, that's for the guy who sees that she's wonderful, even if she's damaged. That's the woman who simultaneously grips you by the balls and the heart, and won't let go." He leaned over, nuzzling her neck. "And you realize, somewhere in all that crazy weirdness, you don't want to be released."
"Alec and I were married."
"What?" Elam sat up, staring at her, horrified.
"We had a Skype wedding, about a month before he was killed. We planned a real wedding when he came home, but for about five weeks, I was Mrs. Alec Singleton."
"Why didn't you tell me before?" His eyes held pain and betrayal.
"I didn't think it mattered. He's dead."
"Dead husband trumps dead fiancé," he said softly. "I feel like a real dick, now."
"Why?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because when I get around you, all I can think about is taking care of you, being with you. And all this time, I've been having fantasies about another man's wife!"
He jumped up from the couch and rushed to the plate glass window that overlooked the water. Angry and distraught, he fumbled with the latch. Blythe followed, calmly releasing the tricky door lock. The panel slid silently open. As if released from a prison, Elam stepped through the opening, head back, arms wide. He inhaled the briny breeze from the river.
The water glittered silver in the moonlight, the ripples catching and throwing reflections at random. Platinum light outlined Elam's body as he stood near the railing. Framed with the night, he looked magical. Blythe moved close, touching his shoulders with her hands. He stiffened, then relaxed beneath her touch.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was married so short a time, and engaged so much longer, I still felt like he was my fiancé, not my husband. I didn't mean to lie to you." She moved closer, putting her cheek between his muscular shoulders, holding him close around the waist. "You fantasized about me?"
Elam chuckled, turning to face her. "All that rant, that's what you take away from that conversation?"
"It's the most important part. None of the rest matters."
"Do you know how hard it's been, keeping my hands off you?"
Blythe nodded. "A little longer?"
Elam kissed her. "As long as you need." He pulled her closer, his lips brushing her ear. "But know this, when the time comes, when I'm inside you, it's my name you'll scream—not his."
Blythe nodded in answer. She couldn't put in words everything she felt. Elam took her breath away. And her common sense. And her self-control. In good ways.
©2022 Dellani Oakes
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