It Will Always Be You (You Series Book 1) (12 page)

“I wish you would have woken me up so I could have made you some breakfast. I should be taking care of you, not the other way around.” His serious tone wipes the childish grin right off of my face.

“I was happy to let you sleep. You clearly needed it. I’m feeling really good today, and making a few pieces of French toast is no big deal.”

He grabs my hands and raises them to his lips, kissing them softly. “Please let me take care of you today. It’s the least I can do when this whole thing could have been avoided, had I followed you out to your car that night.”

“Marshall—” He places a finger on my lips.

“Don’t argue with me, Beth. Let me do this. Plus, I always win.”

How on earth can I resist?

“I’ll clean up after breakfast, and then if you’re up to it, I’d like to take you somewhere today.”

I sit quietly for a bit, like I’m pondering whether or not I will agree to it. But I can’t think of a single reason in the world that would keep me from spending a
whole
day with him.

“Like I said, I feel really good today. What did you have in mind?”

He sits back in his seat. “Well, what would be the fun in telling you that?” He flashes me a sideways grin that is impossible not to reciprocate.

After cleaning up from our breakfast, Marshall leaves my townhouse to make a pit stop at the hotel and the distillery while I get ready.

Before I shower, I check my phone.

A text from Krystal:

How are things going with pretty boy?

Any hot sweaty sex stories to share? ;o)

I can’t help but roll my eyes at my friend’s dirty mind. Can’t say that I mind it, either. She can turn even the most mundane into something sex-related. Just sitting at the mall, she will observe people talking and ad-lib their conversation into some hot, dirty dialogue that is wildly entertaining. It used to make me blush like a little pig-tailed virgin, but now I can actually contribute to the commentary. I’ve grown quite used to dirty talk and have learned some new phrases that in the past would have sent my prude little ass off hiding.

Very funny! He’s taking me somewhere today and said it’s a surprise.

We will talk tomorrow, you damn horn ball!

Krystal replies,

As always, damn proud of it! Talk to you soon!

After I get showered and ready, I check my e-mail. One is from Kiki, telling me that she gave me the week off, that I’m due back the following Monday, and that I should let her know right away if I need more time off. This is perfect since I’ll get to spend some time preparing for the meeting I have in two weeks at the new nightclub, and I can’t afford not to get the job. After missing so many days of work, I will need the money. The job would be a new construction design. I love the idea of having a blank canvas and want the chance for more experience with it.

As Marshall pulls up in front of my townhouse, I’m taken back to our first date. Both the memory and the nerves cause me to pace in anticipation. I watch in awe as Marshall runs his fingers through his dark hair, not breaking his confident stride on his way up my yard. He insisted I lock the door when he left, which I did. I wait for him to knock, not wanting it to be too obvious that I was staring longingly out the window as he approached.

I open the door to find him looking me over like he wants to eat me. Heat climbs to my cheeks. His hungry gaze stops for a moment at my legs, and I’m thrilled with my decision to wear my favorite cutoff shorts. My legs may not be long, but they’re toned. One of my best assets, in my opinion. And the way he is looking at me, I can see he doesn’t object.

His eyes meet mine. The passion in them is so evident it makes my breath hitch, and it’s hard to swallow. We both pause, our eyes locked. He takes a step inside and grabs hold of my waist, lifting my mouth to his with his other hand. He kisses me gently, minding my cut lip. He threads his fingers into my hair, tilting my head back as soft, fevered kisses scatter all over my neck.

With impressive steadiness and grace, he closes the front door. I press my back firmly against it. He lifts me up higher until my legs are wrapped around him. Our moans drip with desire. With one hand, he cradles my ass, and he carefully removes my shirt with the other. His eyes search for mine, looking for any hesitation. I know damn well there isn’t any to be seen.

I wrap my legs tighter around him and grab ahold of his shirt, working it up over his head with my good arm. The heat of his back burns into my hands as I touch every inch of the solid, toned flesh. His warm hands cup my breasts as he kisses the exposed flesh peeking out over the top of my bra.

His shaky voice stops all action. “Are you sure—”

I press my finger to his lips. It’s my turn to stop him from talking. I stare intently into his denim blues. “Yes, I’m sure.”

I want this. I need this. I need to feel genuinely desired. I need more of what Marshall makes me feel. If I feel cared for, maybe some of my fear and pain will go away. I want more than ever to feel safe like I did last night in Marshall’s arms. This desire I have for Marshall is more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt. I just want to give in to it and let go of everything else.

His eyes search mine before both of his hands grip tight under my ass. Now it’s my turn to kiss his jawline and trail his neck with kisses while he carries me through the living room and down the hallway. I ignore the pain from my injuries that prick both my lip and the side of my head. We reach my bed, and he lowers me gently until my feet touch the floor. With both feet planted, I’m given the chance to run my hands over his picture-perfect abs. He is still. I feel his heart racing under my hands, matching mine, and I can feel him watching me admire his body, turning me on even more. I reach for the waist of his pants, and as my fingers pull on the button, he gently takes my wrist.

“Beth, I know you think you’re up for this, but I can’t help but feel like I might hurt you.” He runs a gentle thumb across my jawline. “I never want to hurt you.”

“We can take it slow. I promise I’m ready for this. I have never been readier for anything in my entire life,” I say, holding my gaze. I mindfully reach back and unhook my bra, letting it slip slowly down my arms.

“I told myself I wasn’t going to go too far with you until you healed, so I don’t have any protection with me.” His voice is low and controlled.

“I got it covered.” It feels like my entire body blushes as my face gets warm.

He places a tender hand to my cheek, and I cover it with mine, holding a steady gaze. My hand moves into his thick hair as his soft mouth captures my breast. My head tips back in delight as his tongue teases one erect nipple, then the other.

He slowly lowers to his knees, kissing my belly on the way down and running his tongue along the skin just above my shorts. A whimper seeps from my lips, and his face turns up to mine. Peering up at me through heavy-lidded eyes, he slowly works my shorts down my legs, his coarse fingers trailing behind, making my body tremble.

“These legs of yours are amazing.” His voice is heavy as he leisurely stands, tracing my legs with his fingertips as he rises. He runs his fingers up my belly before cupping my breast. “And so are these.” His mouth closes again over the hard peak, and he rolls his soft tongue around in circles before nipping lightly at the glistening flesh. “And these are irresistible,” he says before his mouth eagerly covers mine. He’s still careful to avoid the cut side.

Doesn’t he know
he
is the irresistible one? How he’d left my sister and mother dumbfounded this morning, along with every other woman who has ever laid eyes on this divine creature?

“Marshall?”

“Hmm?” he manages, still planting light kisses on and around my lips.

“Did you really mean it when you said I have been on your mind ever since you first saw me?”

He takes my shoulders gently, meeting my eyes. “You don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

“How goddamn beautiful you are and that you, Beth,” he runs his thumb over my lips, “are in no way inferior to your twin.”

His words wash over me like a wave of electricity. I can’t stand another second of not being with him in every way, not tasting every single inch of him.

His control is awe-inspiring as he slowly lowers me to the bed. Standing before me, he makes quick work of removing his jeans, freeing the glorious beast that was hidden in the luckiest pair of cotton briefs. My mouth waters, and moisture builds swiftly between my thighs. I can tell by his dilated pupils and heavy breath that he is feeling as ready as I am. He tucks each finger under the lace of my panties and works them down so slowly I nearly bark for him to finish up. Instead, I show patience like he has and savor every second. Kisses travel up my entire body as he makes his way back to me, making me squirm.

“Marshall,” I whisper, “there are condoms in the top drawer of my nightstand.”

He opens the drawer and takes one out, turning to me with a sly grin. I know he just got an eyeful of my toy collection, and I’m glad. I hope this will be the tamest sex we will ever have. After I heal, I hope he plans to devour me like I plan to devour him.

Slow, steady, rhythmic perfection melts us into the bed, where we lie breathless. I never knew vanilla sex could be that good. After Gavin, I was convinced that you had to have all-out wild, kinky sex for it to be any good. Man, was I wrong. Every moment of our endeavor had me gasping for air, clawing at the bed covers, holding back screams. He was so careful and gentle, watching my reactions to every thrust. Hearing moans leave his spectacular lips paired with the fine-tuned precision of his motions sent me spiraling into orgasmic bliss. I can hardly imagine something more flawless.

He comes up onto an elbow, looking down at me with a grin so big it makes me laugh.

“Was that funny to you?” He tries to look serious, but fails miserably.

“Not remotely. But that cute smile on your face is priceless.”

“Is that so?” His soft, lingering kiss makes me melt even further into the bed. “Are you aware that you’ve had a similar grin all morning?” He brushes a strand of hair away from my face.

“Is that so?”

He squeezes me tighter.

“Was that your idea of taking care of me today?”

I can feel his body stiffen, and his larger-than-life smile washes away, leaving him with the sad, pained face I’d hoped to never see again.

“No, that was not my intention.”

Sad eyes look at me, and it’s suddenly hard to breathe.
What did I do wrong?

I watch as he strains to swallow before looking away.

“I was only kidding, Marshall.”

He stays silent, staring past me at the wall.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask.

He releases his arm from under my head and gets up, immediately pulling on his briefs. He scoops up my clothes and sets them next to me.

“You did nothing wrong, Beth. You’re perfect.” He leans over and kisses my head. “It’s me that was wrong.” He stands. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Of course not.”

He turns and walks toward the hallway. His confident posture has been replaced with hunched shoulders and a low head.

“But, Marshall, wait …” I hear the bathroom door in the hallway click shut.
Why was he wrong? Does he regret having sex with me?

I jump out of bed, feeling the sudden urge to be sick. I grab my clothes and run to my bathroom. I kneel down on the cool tile, lean my elbows on the toilet seat, and rest my heavy head in my hands. My stomach clenches tighter as the room begins to spin. The doctor had told me I may experience some dizziness from my concussion, but I didn’t really expect it to happen. A drop of sweat rolls down my nose as I breathe deeply, trying to relax, praying I hold in my breakfast.

As a throbbing pain pulses in the side of my head, a vivid image comes to the forefront of my mind: a set of beady little eyes looking at me with so much rage and anger that my hair stands up on end. All the pain, fear, and loneliness come rushing back while my guts twist, wanting to purge, but I’m determined not to let it happen.

I rise on wobbly legs, tightly grabbing the counter top. My naked body trembles as I turn on the faucet, splash cold water on my face, and reluctantly look back at the pale image in the mirror. I need to get it together. I need this day with Marshall. I put down the toilet lid and have a seat, pulling my clothes on with unsteady hands. A knock at the door startles me.

“Beth?”

I’m instantly afraid he will come in and see me shaken, half-dressed, and ghost white.

“Yes?”

“I really hate to say this, but I just got a call from Aubrey. My niece Emma is sick. Aubrey’s car won’t start, and her husband, Rich, is out of town. She needs me to pick Emma up from school. She just lives a few miles from here, so I shouldn’t be long. You should come lock the door behind me.”

I don’t want him to see me right now. I need a chance to get some color back in my face and regain my composure.

“You go ahead and go, Marshall. I’ll come out and lock the door in a few minutes.”

Thankfully, he agrees to go without me following him out.

Once I know he’s gone, I make my way out to the living room to lock the front door before tying up my hair and taking a shower. I work quickly, feeling on edge being home alone for only the second time since that dreadful night. Every little noise I hear from my bathroom window makes me jump; a garbage truck passing by, a horn honking, and even a child’s joyful laughter have my heart thumping. The pounding in my head slowly subsides, and I begin to calm down just as I finish getting ready.

Marshall sends me a message saying he’s sorry, but his sister really needs him and he has to stick around for a while longer.

What about me? I don’t want to be alone. Why does his sister get to have him when I’m the one who really needs him?
I slam my phone down in frustration. It’s not long before I realize I’ve cracked my screen. Heat rises to my face, and my hands begin to tremble as my frustration quickly turns to anger. I turn to kick the couch and stub my toe. I go down to the floor, clenching my teeth, doing everything I can to hold in the tears that are starting. Through the cracked screen, I text Marshall, telling him not to come back, that my sister has come over, and that I’m feeling too tired anyway. I set down my phone and go crawl into bed, covering my head, feeling more alone than I have ever felt in my life.

***

Thursday, June 10

I awake from what little sleep I got last night. I was startled by every crack, creak, and car driving by. I hate this uneasy feeling. I drag my butt out to the phone I’d ignored all night. The first text is from Krystal asking how my big date was going, twisting the knot further into my belly. Next was Rose texting me to call her, a voicemail from my mom checking in, and, last but not least, two text messages from Marshall asking me to call him and saying that he wishes to see me before he heads back to Minneapolis this morning. I send a reassuring text message to mom and Rose telling them I’m doing great and I’ll be working all day on my interior design portfolio for my meeting, so I need to be left alone. I know I can’t focus on work today, and I’ve never been one to lie, but I just need some time alone. Then I text Marshall that I will be home all day and that he may stop by if he wants. I’m not even sure if I want him here, but I want to know why he chose his sister over me yesterday.

Marshall looks as tired as I am when I meet him at my front door. A pang of heartbreak sweeps over me as I think of what might have kept him awake last night.
Was it thoughts of me that kept him awake, or could it have been something else?
I decide to head out to the back deck, needing some fresh air. Marshall follows. I take a seat and stare out at the single maple tree in my backyard, the birdfeeder station hanging from a lower branch—a housewarming gift from my parents. Marshall takes a seat at the table to my left.

I don’t intend to speak first. I’m not the one who left someone clearly in need. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He’s leaning beyond me, so I’m able to examine him without his knowing. He lowers his head and rubs the back of his neck. I can’t help but want to go over to him, rub his neck for him, and kiss away the pain that has clearly surfaced. Maybe by alleviating some of his pain, I can alleviate some of mine, the hurt and anger I feel for being tossed to the side after the best sex of my life, left alone and scared, the second his sister calls. I should find his loyalty to his family honorable, but right now, I just can’t find it in me.

Finally, he speaks. “Beth, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have let things get as far as they did.”

What? That’s why he’s sorry? Not for leaving me alone? Not for finding his sister’s needs more important than mine? He actually regrets having sex with me?
I look at him, puzzled. My mixed-up emotions have me scrambling for words, words I can’t find.

“When I said I wanted to take care of you, that wasn’t what I meant,” he says, shaking his head.

“Marshall, I was only joking about that.”

“I shouldn’t have let it get that far, Beth.”

My throat tightens. “Last time I checked, there were two adults involved here.”

He stands and steps in front of me. “I should have waited and treated you like you deserve to be treated.”

My eyes snap up to his. “And how is that? Like I’m a fragile little child who can’t make decisions for herself?”

He places one hand on either side of my head to keep my eyes locked. “No. Like someone who has just been through a great ordeal and needs some time to process it.”

“Since when did you get to decide what I need? If you haven’t noticed, Marshall, I’m doing really well, thank you.” Another lie. They seem to be coming too easily for me. The anger I felt earlier begins to boil to the surface. I move his hands away from my face and stand, facing the deck railing. “Maybe you should just go.”

He comes up behind me. “No, Beth. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

I turn to him with piercing eyes. “What, like you left me yesterday? You didn’t seem to have a problem with it then.”

“I didn’t want to go, but my sister really needed my help—”

I jump in. “What, and I didn’t?”

The pain in his eyes should stop me here, but I’m too furious. “I get it, Marshall. You got what you wanted from me; now please just go.” I point to the door.

His eyes look to me, filled with all the hurt I’ve just caused. “I really hope you don’t mean that.”

I know I don’t, but I can’t bring myself to say so. My throat is so tight with regret I can hardly breathe. My eyes travel down to the floor.

“Whether you believe it or not, Beth, I do care about you.”

I close my eyes tightly, fighting to hold back the tears, but it’s no use. Tears splash one by one to the floor.
Why am I hurting him? What is wrong with me? How can I be so cruel to the man I feel like I’m falling in love with?

“I needed you,” I say and look up, but he is already gone.