Page 26 of Lonesome Man
How the fuck did I move on from this?
How the fuck was I going to survive?
Libby
Pushing away from the counter, I paced the kitchen again, my stomach in knots, my heart in shreds. What have I done?
The hurt on his face, the confusion, the anger.
I’d made everything so much worse. I’d planned to tell him today, this morning. I’d been practicing what I was going to say while I was in the shower, but it was too late, he’d found out on his own, and now he’d never let me try to explain.
It was nearly midnight. He’d been gone all day, and I was past worrying.
Striding back to the counter, I looked out the kitchen window again, like I had been every few minutes.
The sound of the ATV echoed in the distance. Finally. Thank god, he was okay.
I kept pacing, waiting for him to come inside, but he didn’t. Then the light in the workshop came on. Just one, the small window right at the top. I watched, not sure what to do, then the light went off again and everything remained still, quiet, and I realized, he wasn’t going to come inside.
I couldn’t leave it like this, my heart couldn’t take it. It physically hurt knowing I’d caused him even more pain. I wasn’t getting on that plane tomorrow with him thinking I’d used him and tricked him and that this wasn’t tearing me up as well. I shoved my feet in my sneakers, then ran across the yard. Opening the workshop door on silent hinges, I slipped inside. The large space was draped in gloom, only the glow from the moon coming through the windows to light my way. My gaze slid to the stairs on the other side of the huge space, leading up to the mezzanine. Rounding the table, I made my way over, and headed up.
I didn’t announce myself. I wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to walk away from me again. When I reached the top of the stairs, I searched the shadows, but there was enough moonlight up here to see the bed, and that it wasn’t empty.
“Tucker?” I choked out.
“Go back to the house, Libby,” he said.
I shook my head, even though I wasn’t sure he could see me. “I’m not going without you.”
“You’ve been fine without me for four years.”
It was freezing, so I rushed to the bed, kicked off my shoes, slid off my jeans, and got in with him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he said, and it sounded like he was talking through gritted teeth.
I wriggled over to his side. “You won’t come with me, then I’ll sleep here.”
“I don’t want you here,” he said roughly, his voice breaking.
“Will you let me explain?”
His eyes glittered in the darkness when they met mine. “That’s not why you’re here, Libs.”
His hand slid into my hair and he pulled me forward. “You want one last orgasm before you leave me, before you fuck off and go back to pretending the pathetic fuckup in the mountains doesn’t exist again. You want my cock? Sure, why not?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think you’re pathetic, and no, that’s not why…” He slid his hand inside my panties, gliding his fingers over my clit and stealing my breath. “Tucker, please, we need to…” He hauled me on top of him.
“What? What do we need, Libby? There’s no fixing what you did. But we’re good at this, aren’t we? You and me. We’re good together like this.”
I shook my head. “You’re more to me than?—”
He took my mouth in a bruising kiss, one hand gripping the back of my head, while the other snaked down and dragged my panties aside. The head of his cock prodded me, notching at my opening.
I gasped against his lips. “Tucker?—”
“Go on, take it,” he growled. “I can feel how much you want it. You’re already fucking dripping. One touch and your pussy’s weeping for my cock. Take it, Libby, I know you want to,” he said more forcefully.
I did, I wanted him, badly, but not like this, not when he thought I was using him. “Yes, I want you, I’ve never stopped wanting you, but we need to talk.” I tried to move away.
