Beauty from Surrender (28 page)

We lie silently for a while, the tension thick. He finally breaks through it. "How long is your next tour?"

I've purposely been avoiding thinking about it. "Three months. It starts in August and won't be over until the end of October. I only get two weeks off before we're back in the studio to work on the next album."

"Can you come spend the holidays with me?"

That's not going to work. "We already have Christmas shows booked."

"I'm trying to make plans to see you six months in advance, and you can't work me in. This is going to be a huge problem."

He says he isn't making me choose, but he is. He's not saying it but if I don't go with him, we're done. I am as certain of it as I've ever been of anything in my life. But why can't he understand that he's made me no promises? He hasn't asked me to marry him—not a serious proposal. I'd be nuts to walk away when I have absolutely no guarantee of anything. He could decide he's done with me three months from now.

I don't know what else to say. "Can we try it long distance and see how it goes?"

"I guess we don't have much of a choice if you're not coming with me."

Is he trying to make me feel worse than I already do? "Don't say it like that. You're making me feel guilty."

"If that's what it takes, then I want you to feel guilty—so much so that you'll pack all your shit and come home where you belong."

He says home and I immediately think of Avalon instead of this apartment or that tour bus. It's where I see myself when I think of him as my husband and I envision the family he wants to give me.

My mind is exhausted from rolling this around over and over, trying to come up with a solution that quite honestly doesn't exist. I've thought and worried about our relationship for almost a month, and I'm tired. If only for a little while, I need an escape from the dread of being separated again.

"Take me to bed and make me forget that you're leaving." I sound desperate, but I don't care.

"If I do, it won't be to make you forget. I'm gonna show you all the reasons you should go with me."

"Whatever. Either works for me."

He takes my hand and I follow him down the hall to my bedroom. He stops before we reach the bed and kisses me—just a simple, sweet, romantic kiss. When he finishes, I can't stop myself from sighing heavily.

"You won't get soft kisses on your lips when I'm gone." He moves to my neck and hits that spot just below my ear, the one that always sends chills down my spine. "Or here."

He grasps the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head. He palms my breasts as he continues kissing my neck and then slowly moves down over my shoulder. He reaches around to unfasten my bra as his mouth migrates to the space between my breasts. When I feel the release of my bra, he slides the straps down my arms and it drops to the floor.

He kisses my abdomen all the way down as he drops to his knees in front of me. I feel his tongue swipe my belly button as he unfastens my jeans. I hear the sound of my zipper as he slowly slides it down and everything from my nipples down to the tips of my toes tingles.

He normally hooks his fingers inside the band of my jeans and underwear to push them down, but not this time. He slides one finger inside the front of my panties and turns his hand over so that his fingertip can softly stroke my clit in a come-hither motion. I feel my panties dampen, that sticky, wet feeling, and every bit of it is for him—this man I love with all my heart. This man I don't know how to let go of.

He stops what he's doing and grasps my jeans and panties. He pulls them to my ankles and I hold onto his shoulders as I step out, one foot at a time. After he moves them out of the way, he wraps his hands around each of my hipbones and kisses my stomach before his mouth moves in a southerly direction.

This is never the best position for what he's about to do, so I'm glad when he pushes me to sit on the edge of the bed. He reaches for each of my legs and hooks them over his shoulders before he buries his nose against me. "I wish I could bottle this and take it with me. I'd spray it all over my sheets and roll around in it."

I giggle as I lace my fingers through his hair and stroke the top of his head. I'm going to miss hearing him say such highly inappropriate things.

I reach for the pillows on the bed and place them behind me so I can prop up and watch what he does. He's turned me into some kind of sex freak; I like to see his mouth between my legs. The dirty bastard has ruined me. Not that I ever want to have sex with another man, but no other could ever come close to bringing me the ecstasy I feel with him.

I jerk when his tongue touches me. Not because I'm scared or surprised but because my nerve endings are on fire, calling out to his mouth. It's sensory overload when they finally feel the sensation they desire so badly.

He pushes my legs back with his hands as he moves his tongue faster against me, and I feel that pressure rising, those magnificent waves that begin deep inside and rise until they burst through the surface. "Ohhh…right there's the spot. That feels so good." He always follows my direction so well. When I tell him he's in the right spot, he doesn't stop until he makes me scream.

He uses his tongue to apply more pressure to that pleasurable site and I feel my orgasm rushing toward the surface. I grasp his hair as I always do and tug. "Right there. Just like that." And a moment later, my entire body tenses as it escapes my mouth…the scream he knew he'd get out of me.

When I release his hair, I still feel his mouth against me as he says, "And she crosses the finish line, ladies and gentlemen."

I shove the pillows behind me and scoot backward on the bed. "This race isn't over yet."

He starts at my ankles and kisses his way up my legs. "Oh, this next part isn't going to be a race. I plan on taking my time with you, Miss McLachlan. Who knows? This could take all night."

"Promise?"

He grins as he continues up each of my legs. When he reaches the apex of my thighs, he stops to kiss the top of my pubic bone. "Always so smooth. You'll never know how much I like that."

He continues up my stomach until he reaches my breasts. His mouth hovers in the center of my chest and he pushes them together to make a Jack Henry sandwich. The thought makes me giggle inwardly.

He moves up to my neck and pushes my hands over my head. "Turn over."

I roll to my stomach, my hands still over my head, and he begins kissing my neck. He slowly moves his way down and doesn't leave a single spot neglected. I'm covered in goosebumps—what he's doing drives me crazy, and he knows it.

And then he's at my lower back—the spot he covets—and he begins licking me. I don't know what it is about it that he loves so much, but I don't care if it means he does this to me. It's a turn-on like no other.

He moves on to my bottom and this is where he gets a little freaky. He does his nibbling thing where he bites my ass, but then he moves his mouth down between my thighs. He uses his knee to push my legs apart and shoves the pillows under me. I'm bent over them and…oh, fuck! He licks my girlie parts. From behind. He's never done it from that angle before and it feels…kinky. And I like it. A lot.

He grabs the back of my thighs and pushes them up and apart so my bottom is up in the air. I think being positioned like this would be mortifying as hell if what he was doing didn't feel so amazing.

He astonishes me the way he can always pull a different rabbit out of his hat.

He suddenly stops and says, "No, you're not coming like this again. I want to be inside you next time you get off." He cues me to roll over by tugging on my hip.

When I'm on my back again, he lies down on top of me. We're eye to eye. He runs his hands down the length of my arms until he finds my hands and lifts them over my head. He laces his fingers through mine and squeezes them. He doesn't take his eyes from mine—and doesn't even blink—as he enters me. But I see the look, the one that tells me how good it feels to be inside me. I can never mistake that look of pleasure for any other.

I bring my legs up and around him so I can feel him deeper. With Jack Henry, close is never close enough. I always want him nearer.

He props his weight on his elbows and cradles my head inside his lower arms. He showers kisses all across my face. "I love you so much. You are everything to me." Our hands are still fisted above my head and he squeezes them tighter as he continues slowly moving inside me. He presses his forehead against mine. "You kissed my heart awake."

Now it's me squeezing his hands tighter. "
God, I love you."

He shifts his hips so he's putting friction against my sweet spot as he moves in and out of me.
There's nothing like having a man who can make me come so many different ways, even with slow, gentle lovemaking. But there's especially nothing like hearing him tell me he loves me as it happens. From what I hear, I'm in the minority. I don't think most women orgasm with intercourse alone. But not all women have Jack Henry for a lover.

When it's over, he relaxes against me. I take my legs from around him and let them fall apart so he can nestle between them while he's still inside me. I cherish these moments, when we're still joined as one.

"Promise me you won't let another man do these things to you after I'm gone."

Wow. That sounds so final, like we're going to say goodbye and never see one another again. "No man will touch me like this or any other way. You're the only one."

"Swear to me."

"I swear."

He wraps his arms around me and I do the same. We squeeze one another to the point that it's almost painful. "I'm terrified of losing you."

"I'm terrified of losing you too."

He presses his forehead to mine again. "I can't stand it. I said I wouldn't do this, but I can't help myself. Please, come home with me. I know you can't have the career you want in Australia, but you know I can take care of you. You'll have anything your heart desires and you'll never have to work."

I consider it for a moment, but he still hasn't asked me to marry him. "I can't. I don't know how we'll make it work, but we'll find a way. We have to because the alternative isn't an option."

***

Laurelyn and I have spent the last two days either in bed or in the shower so we could go back to bed together. I'd say these were the best days of my life except for the reason behind why we've been nymphos for the last forty-eight hours.

I'm leaving today, and she's not coming with me.

We're standing at the security checkpoint and the sickening feeling I have in my stomach is far worse than I'd imagined it would be. I feel short of breath and my chest aches from my heart being torn out. The pain is even worse than when I found Laurelyn's goodbye letter.

I'm not a man who cries—ever—yet I feel it right there about to happen. It's foreign and I'm fighting it, but it's getting harder and harder with each passing minute. Our separation is imminent, and inevitable.

I'm holding her in my arms. I'm squeezing her harder than I should. I'm probably hurting her, but it's my attempt at meshing us into one so I don't leave her behind. And it isn't working.

I hear her soft, sweet voice against my ear and feel her trembling in my arms. "Don't leave," she whispers.

I feel the tears when they come and I bury my face in her hair. "Don't let me leave without you."

And we're back to that place I hate. She won't come and I can't stay.

Our time together is winding down. We don't have much time left and I pull away from her so I can see her face. "This is not at all the way I wanted to do this."

"I know. I didn't want you to leave with things between us feeling so…unsettled."

She doesn't understand I'm referring to something entirely different. "That's not what I mean, baby." I reach into my pocket and take out the black leather box I've carried everywhere with me for the last two weeks. I waited for the perfect moment, but it never presented itself. Now I get to do it this way only minutes before I'm about to leave her for God knows how long.

I hold it out so she can see it. I want her to have a moment to absorb where I'm about to go. She looks at it briefly before her eyes dart up to meet mine. She looks like she wants to say something but can't quite spit the words out.