For Forester (For You #2) Read online

  It didn’t take long. His hands gripped my hips so tightly he surely left bruises. His features tightened and his body stilled.

  Watching it happen was almost as satisfying as feeling it happen. So I kept moving until every last bit of pleasure was wrung from his body. When it was, I lowered myself to his heaving chest, leaving him pulsing inside me.

  He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his lips to the top of my head. “I have no words.”

  I laughed, feeling the exact same way as my own sweaty body fought to come back down to Earth.

  “I’m serious. How do you convey what it feels like to get something you’ve wanted for so long?”

  “Stop exaggerating.”

  He grabbed the sides of my head and lifted it gently so my chin rested on his chest. “Marin, don’t you get it? When I was a teenager alone with my hand, it was you I imagined.”

  “You’re still a teenager,” I reminded him.

  “Not many teenagers can make you feel the way I did.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip, wanting to tell him most men couldn’t make me feel the way he did.

  “There are times I’m with other girls and it’s you I envision beneath me,” he said. “You moaning. You breathing my name.”

  Feeling too awkward to look at him, I dropped my forehead onto his chest. “You didn’t even know me.”

  “I knew your smile and your laugh. You just exuded happiness anytime you were around. I just wanted to be caught up in it. I wanted to feel it. Touch it. Touch you.” He gently lifted my face again. “I was paying attention all those years, Marin. And now that I know you, you’re everything I thought you’d be.”

  I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of his words. Of our situation.

  “You’re strong and compassionate and an amazing mother.” His lips twisted into that smirk that brought on eager butterflies. “And you’re so damn sexy you don’t even realize it.”

  I shook my head, my eyes averting his.

  “So thank you,” he said.

  I glanced back to him. “For what?”

  “For proving me right. And for giving us a chance.” The gentleness of his subsequent kiss conveyed the sincerity of his words and feelings.

  It was me who wasn’t as confident in the us he referred to. It was sex. Amazing, toe curling sex. But he was still leaving for school. And I was still a mother without a job.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Marin

  My body was still tangled with Trace’s when the early morning sun cracked through my closed bedroom blinds. I could say with much certainty I hadn’t slept so soundly in years. Unfortunately, now that I lay awake, my mind taunted me with all the reasons why the previous night had been a terrible idea. All the reasons this thing with Trace needed to end immediately.

  I sat up slowly, careful not to wake Trace as I tugged the sheet from our feet and wrapped it around my naked body. I glanced down at him. The scarce sunlight cast a soft glow over him stretched out on my bed. Naked. Sound asleep. Hair all ruffled. Looking right at home.

  I needed to breathe and I didn’t need to see him sprawled out on my bed while I did. I stood, tiptoeing toward my bathroom.

  “Where are you going?” Trace’s raspy morning voice asked.

  I stopped and closed my eyes. Heat crept up my neck. It was one thing to have sex with him at night, in the darkness, but now that it was morning, it wasn’t so easy to face him. Pulling in a long breath, I glanced over my shoulder. “Oh, I...”

  Trace pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop trying to sneak out of here.”

  I hugged the sheet tighter around me and turned to face him. “That’s not what I was doing.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I huffed. “Why do you have to challenge me?”

  “Because I can.” He crawled toward me, kneeling on the edge of the bed. “Now come here.”

  I tilted my head, my brain wanting to resist him, but my heart...my stupid heart couldn’t shake the sight of him naked on my bed. Or the pleading look in his eyes. Or the way he made me feel.

  Gahhhh.

  I stepped to him. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly against the solid plains of his chest. His aloe scent I’d been inhaling all night, encompassed me in a real-life cocoon. And his body—his amazing body—overwhelmed every one of my senses. The ache between my legs returned with a vengeance. Trace slipped his hand inside the sheet, releasing it from my body. It dropped to the floor and pooled around my feet. “I need you, Marin.”

  I pulled my head back and stared into his eyes. “I don’t want to need you.”

  He stared back at me. He wanted to say something. I could see it in the way his eyes riveted between mine. In the way his mouth opened then pressed together in a tight line. His hands slid up my bare back. Goosebumps erupted in their wake. “Until CJ comes home, I want to be the first face you see in the morning and the last one you see before you close your eyes.”

  How could I argue with that?

  Regardless of the reasons it was a bad idea, I went willingly. I needed to savor my time with Trace. I’d learned from what happened with Charles—how I’d lost such a huge piece of myself—that I needed to enjoy life. And Trace, for a growing number of reasons, made me happier than I’d been in a long time.

  Trace

  The walk of shame had never felt as sweet as it did after spending one hell of a night in Marin’s bed. I actually took the time to appreciate the trees lining the sidewalk, their green leaves waiting patiently to be replaced with vibrant reds and oranges. And while fall made most people think of pumpkins and scarecrows, for this Bama boy it was all about football. Football was my life eighty percent of the year. That’s why I felt like I was being a selfish prick when it came to Marin. I was leaving. I’d be back at school in less than a month and have no time for anything but classes and football. But I just couldn’t help myself.

  I twisted the knob on the side door of my parents’ house. It was unlocked, which meant my disappearing act the previous night hadn’t gone unnoticed. I slipped inside the kitchen, careful not to make a sound as I closed the door and moved to the fridge. I grabbed the container of orange juice and tipped it down my throat, needing sustenance after the workout I’d had with Marin.

  “Nice of you to come home.” My mother’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

  I replaced the orange juice and closed the fridge, turning slowly.

  My mother stood in the doorway with her robe knotted tightly at the waist and her disapproving glare fixed firmly in place. “Would it kill you to leave a note or text to let us know you’ll be out all night?”

  At school I had no one to answer to. It was easy to forget I had parents who worried while I was home. “Sorry. It just kinda happened.”

  She slipped a chair out from the kitchen table and sat, primed for her typical interrogation. “Do you plan on telling me where you were?”

  “I’d rather not.”

  She nodded, clearly pissed. “And if I already know?”

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the center island. “Then you already know.”

  “And if I think it’s a terrible idea?”

  I shrugged. “Then you think it’s a terrible idea.”

  “So, my opinion means nothing to you?”

  “I appreciate you looking out for me. But I can make my own decisions. Just like I can make my own mistakes. I’m a man now.”

  “Then start acting like one,” she said, her harsh tone taking me aback.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. The way you’ve been carrying on with her is despicable.” Her face scrunched in distaste which pissed me the hell off.

  “First of all, she has a name and you know it. Second, we’re friends.”

  “Friends?” she sneered. “That’s what they’re calling it these days?”

  “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

  “I�
�m not implying anything. She’s a single mother. She has no business latching on to you.”

  “Latching on to me?” My voice was incredulous.

  “She asked you to spend time with her son.”

  “Right. She asked me and I could’ve said no.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because, despite what you think, I enjoy having a little kid around who wants nothing more than to hang out with me and emulate me. And he’s an awesome kid.”

  “And what about her?”

  My head dropped back and I dragged in a breath. “I like her. She got the short end of the stick with that asshole she married.”

  “I won’t condone this.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  “What if the scouts find out?”

  “Find out what?”

  She shook her head, a snare on her lips. “You’re still a teenager for Christ’s sake.”

  “For a few more months.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Logistics.”

  “What happened to you supporting me?”

  “I do support you,” she snapped.

  “Then start acting like it.” I pushed off the island and walked out of the kitchen.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Marin

  I miss you.

  Trace’s text came during his shift at the bar. It had been hours since he’d dragged himself from my bed. Once he had, I lay in bed with his scent still clinging to my sheets replaying our night in my head. I couldn’t actually remember ever being that worshipped. That content. That happy.

  I sent back a text. Oh, yeah? What do you miss?

  Your bed.

  I laughed to myself.

  Your taste.

  My belly rippled.

  Your sounds.

  Oh, he was good. But what did I expect? The guy had moves I never imagined I’d be on the receiving end of.

  The way your body does whatever I want it to do.

  Okay. This did not help. What are you doing after work?

  You.

  I tossed my phone down on the coffee table like a hot potato. I was in over my head. The guy had sexting down to a science. How many girls had been the lucky recipients of his texts? Actually, it was probably better I didn’t know.

  I picked up my laptop and continued researching graduate programs at the local colleges—something I’d been doing all night. I needed to get back in the game. I couldn’t do anything in my field without a Master’s degree. I already had twelve credits, having taken four classes before Charles asked me to stop. I could manage the ten remaining classes, practicums, and internship if I worked my butt off for the next two years.

  My phone rang, pulling me from my search. I grabbed it and lifted it to my ear.

  “Why haven’t you called?” Gayle asked before I could even speak.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Girl, I left you with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen and you have the nerve not to call. I should’ve been the first call after he left.”

  “What if he didn’t leave?”

  Her scream was so loud I needed to hold the phone away from my ear.

  “Are you done?” I laughed.

  “Is he still there?” she managed to ask once she finally calmed down.

  “No.”

  “I can’t believe you tapped that.”

  “I don’t think anyone says that anymore.”

  “I don’t care what they say, tell me everything. I need to live through you. Sam has a beer gut.”

  I sat back and sighed, the visions still so fresh. So raw. “It was freaking incredible.”

  Her envious screech carried through the phone until I heard Sam burst into the room asking if she was okay. “Yes, I’m fine,” she told him. “Marin’s tapping her hot neighbor.”

  “Gayle,” I hissed.

  “Oh, relax. Who’s he gonna tell?”

  “I just don’t want people to know.”

  “Why the hell not? If a hot guy wanted to sleep with me, I’d want the whole world to know—sorry, honey.”

  I laughed to myself as she apologized to her husband.

  “Is he coming over tonight?” she asked.

  “I think so.”

  “This couldn’t have happened to a better person.”

  “I didn’t win an award. I’m sleeping with my nineteen-year-old neighbor.”

  “There is nothing teen about him, Marin. He is all man—”

  Sam growled in the background.

  “Oh, relax,” she said to him.

  I laughed. “I’ll let you go before you end up sleeping alone tonight.”

  “I couldn’t get that lucky,” she said.

  * * *

  Soft knocking on the front door woke me from the vivid dream I’d been having on the sofa. I glanced to my phone. It was 11:15 p.m. Right on time. I dragged my fingers through my matted hair and made my way to the front door, eagerly pulling it open.

  Trace stood there in cargo shorts and a navy shirt with a backpack on his back. He looked so damn fine I just stared at him, knowing he was there for me and only me. “Hi.”

  He said nothing, just stepped into me so I had to back up. He closed the door behind him and wrapped his arms around me, staring down at me with those pretty blue eyes. I yearned for him to kiss me. To touch me. To something. “I like when you look at me,” he said, his voice deep yet vulnerable.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  He nodded. “It makes me feel like you see me.”

  “Of course I see you.”

  His hands lifted to my cheeks, his fingertips lightly brushing my hair back from my face. “All those years when I went out of my way to pass by here just to see you, you barely even looked at me.”

  “You were a kid.”

  His lips tipped up in one corner. “Yeah. But don’t you get it? I’ve always seen you, Marin. All those years. And it’s just crazy to finally have you looking back and seeing me.”

  I lifted my hands to his face, my fingertips gliding over the stubble around his jawline. “I like seeing you.” My fingers slipped to the back of his head, drawing his mouth to mine. Though he came willingly, I controlled the kiss, trying to convey how much I saw him. How much I wanted him there. How willing I was to give this thing between us a chance.

  His tongue slid inside my mouth, and instantly he’d taken over. I knew it wouldn’t take long. I loved his possessive nature, especially when it was directed at me. He stopped the kiss way too soon and stepped back, pulling his backpack from his back.

  I eyed it with a lifted brow. “Planning on staying?”

  He smirked. “I don’t need clothes for that. Do me a favor. Meet me upstairs.”

  My brows inverted.

  He snickered. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Okay.” I moved toward the stairs, glancing over my shoulder at him standing there watching me.

  “Go ahead. I wanna watch that fine ass.”

  My body shuddered as his eyes drifted to my butt. Suddenly eager for what he had planned, I hurried up the stairs and disappeared into my room. As I sat on the edge of my bed waiting, I could hear the cabinets and drawers opening and closing down in the kitchen.

  Trace’s footsteps soon resounded up the stairs. When my bedroom door swung open, he stood there holding bowls and utensils with his backpack dangling from his forearm. He moved to the bed and placed his bag down, moving the bowls and utensils to the nightstand.

  “What’s all this?”

  He dug into his backpack and pulled out a container of chocolate ice cream followed by a container of vanilla and held them up. “I wasn’t sure which flavor you liked.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Ice cream?”

  He stacked the containers on my nightstand then pulled chocolate sprinkles, hot fudge, and whipped cream out of his bag. “Not just ice cream. Everything you need to make an ice cream sundae. In bed.”

  I stared back at him, realizing what he’d done. He’d listened when I t
alked. He’d heard what I’d said about Charles. He knew the life I’d lived, and he was trying to show me what life should’ve been like. The only problem was I was starting to see what life with him could be like, and that scared the hell out of me. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged like it was no big deal. But it was.

  “Chocolate,” I said.

  He smiled as he grabbed the chocolate container and sat beside me. “Good choice.”

  As he peeled off the cover, I reached over and grabbed the hot fudge and whipped cream. He laughed as I squeezed a big glob of fudge on top of the ice cream then piled a mountain of whipped cream on top of it. I picked up one of the spoons and dug into the carton, savoring the taste of it as soon as it touched my tongue.

  “Good?” he asked as I dug back in, getting another big spoonful.

  “You tell me.” I stood up and moved in front of him. He stared up at me, awaiting my next move. I stepped forward and straddled his lap. He smiled as I lifted the spoon to his lips. He opened his mouth and ate the ice cream off my spoon. Given the erection straining in his shorts and the way he stared right back at me as he savored his bite, he liked me there. “Is this one of your fantasies?” I asked.

  He leaned forward, and with chocolate coating his tongue, he kissed me. He kissed me hard, his tongue exploring my mouth, deliciously stroking against my tongue. When he pulled out of the kiss, he moved the ice cream to the nightstand. “No.” He grabbed the bottle of whipped cream and lifted the spout to my mouth. “But this is,” he said, all sexy and raspy.

  I opened slightly, wanting to play along and make his fantasy a reality. He squirted a small dab inside my mouth, and before I could close it, his mouth was on mine, his tongue swiping the whipped cream out as he sucked away at my tongue. The mix of ice cream and whipped cream was a heady combination, as was his erection pressing between my thighs.

  Trace reclined on the bed, pulling me down on top of him. I giggled as our mouths came apart for a second before they were like magnets colliding, our lips moving rhythmically together. I reached for his hand and took the bottle, pulling back breathless. “My turn.”