Goodbye Secrets (The Lost & Found Series book #2) (29 page)

“Becca, goddamn it ... could you just fucking give me a real kiss, baby?” Though he said it quietly, his impatience and frustration came through loud and clear. I stared at him, trying to figure him out. “Jesus, Becca!” His hands dove into the hair behind my neck and he pulled me forward, taking my lips for his own. “Open your fucking mouth, Becs!” he snapped with annoyance against my lips.

I think I meant to argue, but didn’t get the chance. My white flag went up and I let his tongue have its way with mine. After a few minutes, he pulled away and topped it off with a soft peck.

“There ... was that so hard, baby?”

We stood forehead to forehead. I didn’t say anything. I was trying to catch my breath and muster up the energy to remind him that we were just friends. “I’m going to go check on the girls. Should I send them to the kitchen?” His thumb traced my lip.

“Um ... yeah.” I finally opened my eyes.

“Hi. There you are.” He smiled. “I love your eyes, baby.” He gave me another quick kiss and went off to find the girls. I headed to the kitchen to regroup, or something. I poured a glass of bravery and gulped it down before I could feel it come up to scratch, then poured another glass and put it by my plate. After opening a Corona for Ray and popping the lime slice in, I took the chicken bake out of the oven.

“Hazel at book club?” Ray asked. I dropped the casserole on the counter nervously. I didn’t even hear him come in.

“Um, yes, ‘til seven.” My voice shook. I’m sure it had nothing to do with Ray’s hands claiming my hips, or the feeling of him right up against my backside.

“The girls will be in in a few. They—are—finishing—up—their—homework,” he said between the kisses he planted on my neck. “I love Wednesdays ... I get to come home to my favorite girls ... especially you ... a home-cooked meal ... and you ... my favorite day of the week, baby.” He was speaking so softly it was almost a whisper. I felt drugged. Of course, I had just gulped down a rather large glass of wine.

“I picked up my dress for the wedding,” I announced, trying to distract myself from him distracting me.

“And we have Becca Campbell coming in from left field once again, ladies and gentlemen!”
Ray the Sportscaster announced, like he always does when I do this. I giggled.

“I’ll have you know, I never played left field. I always played second base.”

“Hmm.” He kissed my neck. “I’m more than happy to play second base with you.” His hands slid up and grasped my breast. I gasped and turned to him, intending to object. Apparently, my mouth did not agree with my thoughts.

“Baby, did you already have a glass of wine?” he asked. His hands still caressed me. The girls walked in and he casually slid his hands down to my waist, then turned and greeted them. I brought the casserole over to the table and served everybody. “Looks good, baby.” Ray patted my bum.

“Thanks. Hope you guys like it.” I sat down.

“Mom, you’re bright red. Are you okay?” Morgan asked. Normally I would be touched by her concern, but I wished she hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah, baby, what’s got you so flushed?” Ray gave me a mischievous grin, then puckered up and blew me an air kiss.

“It’s just from cooking, Morgan,” I answered, trying to ignore him.

“Yeah, I noticed it was real hot in here when I walked in. Right, babe?”

I offered him an eye roll and delayed giggle.

“Daddy, are you going to sleep with Becca tonight, too?” Annie asked, and Ray nearly choked on his food. I couldn’t help but laugh—I didn’t get a chance to remind him about the girls having the next day off for a teachers’ workshop. I was keeping Annie that night. He clearly forgot, because she didn’t bring clothes.

“Teachers’ workshop tomorrow, Ray. Annie’s sleeping over,” I said.

“Oh.” He tried to pull himself together, but let out a few more small chuckles. It was the way she worded it, obviously.

“Grown-ups are so weird!” Morgan sighed.

“Especially the boy ones,” I added.

“Becca, I forgot. I’ll run home and get a change of clothes for us.”

My smile dropped. His got bigger. I took a large swig of my wine.

After dessert, Ray ran home and I ran a bath. Hazel was home and visiting with the girls, and I needed to calm my nerves. The three glasses of wine I had weren’t helping enough. I put my Sarah Brightman CD on in my room and left the bathroom door cracked. I sunk into the deep tub and let the jets take me away. I took a shower earlier, so I didn’t have to do anything now but relax.

A few minutes later, I opened my eyes to reach for my wine—only to find Ray sitting on the bathtub step with his back against the wall, watching me. He had his legs stretched out in front of him, and he was already in his PJs.

“Hi.” He smiled.

“Eh ... hi.”

“Would you like me to wash your back?” he asked me very calmly, as if this were an everyday occurrence.

“No, I’m good. I took a shower earlier.”

He cocked his head at this information.

“Then why are you taking a bath?”

“To relax. It helps me to relax.”
Why did I say that twice? Apparently the wine-and-bath combo was unsuccessful at its one job.

“I know of a few things we can do to help you relax.” He gave me a crooked smile. I swallowed hard, trying to keep the butterflies at bay.

“Um, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Or you could stay in.” He touched the water. “It’s still hot. I’d love to join you. I’ve had a long day. It might be just the thing to relax me.” He started to take off his white cotton undershirt.

“Ray ... don’t,” I gasped. He pulled his shirt back down.

“You really should have that tattooed to your forehead. ‘Ray ... don’t.’” With his finger, he drew a line across my forehead for emphasis. “Then you wouldn’t have to say it so much.” I remember wondering what the hell he meant by that. “Finish your wine and your bath. I’ll pick out a movie for us, baby.” He kissed my lips quickly.

I gulped down my wine as soon as he left, then got out of the tub and dried quickly. All I brought in was a camisole T-shirt and PJ bottoms. No bra. No panties. I didn’t think he was really going to stay over. I applied my lotion thoroughly before getting dressed. I pulled my long, thick, wavy brown hair out of its tie and let it fall around my shoulders. It was still damp from my shower earlier. Grabbing my lotion, I walked out into the bedroom and, because I suddenly felt braver, asked Ray to apply it to my back.

“Yeah, baby, c’mere.” He was sitting up against the pillows and headboard on the right side of the bed—my side—with his legs stretched out before him. He put one foot on the floor and patted the bed between his legs. I sat with my back to him.

I tried to steady my breath as he lifted my top. I heard him open the lotion and squirt it on his hand. The sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the lotion made my heart race—the anticipation of his touch was almost more than I could bear. I felt him leave small, soft, wet kisses on my back, and my breathing became very difficult to control. His hands were so gentle, yet so strong. It was hypnotic, the way he massaged me.

“There,” he whispered in my ear. I opened my eyes as he lowered my shirt—just in time to watch him walk into the bathroom. I heard the faucet run for a minute, then he returned with my wine glass.

I set up the pillows on the other side of the bed while he poured me another glass of wine.

“What are you doing? This is my side.”
Fuck the glass—give me the bottle!
I thought as he sat down behind me again.

“Hmm ... this is my side, too. I guess we’ll have to share,” he said nonchalantly, then hooked his arm around my waist to pull me back against him.

“What are we watching?” I tried to remain calm and unaffected. He pushed my hair away from the right side of my neck over onto my left.

“Drink up, baby. I had a tough day. I need my Becca.”

I open my eyes and hit Ray.

“Ow ... what?”

“It’s a wonder you haven’t turned me into an alcoholic! Do you always make me drink so much?”

“No, Becs, I only push it when I really need you to be my girl without overthinking it. I hate that I have to do that; doesn’t help my ego much.” He frowns.

“I really don’t believe your ego is suffering.” I smile.

“Shh, close your eyes and go back to the memory. Where are you?” He touches my face.

“You’re sleeping over. You pulled me to you and told me to drink up.”

“Oh, yeah ... that was a shit day. I really needed you. Go ahead, baby.”

I close my eyes and go back.

“What happened?” I asked before taking a huge gulp.

“I lost the bid on the contract I wanted.” He grabbed his beer.

“Oh no! Not the Science Museum.” I remember how hard he was trying to get that. His designs were incredible.

“Yep!”

“I’m sorry, Ray. I wish there was something I could do.”

“There is something you can do. Don’t push me away tonight.” He took my wineglass, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. I just stared at him, not knowing what to say. I stood up. “What are you doing, Becs?” He was snippy, like he was agitated. I know it was from work. Wait ... was it?

“Let me massage your shoulders. Scoot forward.” I patted the bed where I had just sat. He stared at me, his eyes wide. “C’mon, McNeil, or the offer goes off the table in five ... four ... three ... ”

He pushed forward, a huge, boyish grin on his face.

“Good boy!” I quickly kissed his lips before I climbed in behind him. “Take your shirt off and turn on the movie.”

“You don’t want to watch ESPN?” He smiled, knowing the answer. He helped me pull off his shirt, then picked up the remote.

“Lotion?”

“With or without a sock?” he asked. I smacked his shoulder and laughed. “No. Just your hands, baby.” He closed his eyes as I started to knead his shoulders.

“You’re so tight, Ray.” I dug my thumbs in.

“Funny, I always imagined me saying that to you.”

I remember thinking how much I’d love that. Rubbing his shoulders, working at his muscles ... it was turning me on. I always thought he had beautiful shoulders.

“Bill will be here tomorrow with the guys to fix anything you need. So make sure you have your list ready, baby.”

Talk about left field!

“Should I pay him, or your firm?” I asked, knowing this might lead to an argument.

“You’re not paying a dime to anybody.” He sighed.

“Ray, I have money set aside for those things. You just lost the bid; you can’t keep paying these guys to do work around here and not accept money from me.”

“It’s all part of the package, baby.”

He pointed to a different area on his shoulder, and I began to work at it.

“What package?”

“Being my girlfriend, baby. It’s my job to take care of you. End of discussion.” He reached up to grab my hands and pulled me forward to kiss my cheek.

“Ray, I’m not—”

“Becca, don’t fucking say it! I swear to God, I can’t put up with this shit tonight! Any other night, baby ... not tonight.” He threw my arms off of him.

“Um, well, it’s just ... you’re always taking care of me. Why won’t you let me help? I want to take care of you, too.” I softly began to kiss across his shoulders.

“You do take care of me, the best you can. Baby ... c’mere.” He turned to me and brought me down in one swift motion. His stormy eyes stared into mine. “I’m going to kiss you, Becs. I’m going to touch you. I need you to not flip out tonight. Can you please, please try not to push me away?”

I felt so confused. I didn’t know where this was all coming from.

“I won’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you, baby,” he promised before his lips met mine.

I opened my mouth for him and tried not to worry about how fast my heart was racing. He ran his mouth down my neck and slipped his hands beneath my cami, which slowly began to hike up. I placed my arms over my eyes to help me cope with what he was doing.

“Ahh ...” I jolted a little as his teeth clamped down on my right nipple and he tweaked my left with his fingers. My hips betrayed me, grinding at his touch. His mouth continued its journey down my torso to my belly. His tongue dove into my navel, sending an electric current to my sex. His hands grasped at my bottoms and pulled them down. “Um ... Ray.” I tried to sit up, but he kneeled in front of me and lifted my legs, sending me onto my back. He nipped me as he ran his tongue along the apex of my groin, which made my hips betray me even more. I covered my face with my hands and clenched my legs together tightly.

“Open up, baby.” He tried gently to part them. I ignored him. “Goddamn it, Becca,
now
!” His voice was so loud I was afraid the guests could hear him—and the thought distracted me so much that, before I knew it, my legs were open and his face was buried in between them. I grasped at the sheets as he did things to me with his tongue that no one had done in so long.

At that moment, I realized he was there, there was no fighting it. He was very skillful, and we cared deeply for each other. I raised my mental white flag once again, lost my right hand in his thick hair, and encouraged him with my hips.

“Oh, Ray. Oh, baby, please,” I begged. As I came undone, his thumb worked at my clit and I felt his tongue dart deep inside me, forcing me to release the butterflies that had stacked up high into my throat. They rushed out in a song that was foreign to me. Just as I finished my last quake—and the butterflies their last verse—Ray slid two fingers inside of me and slowly massaged the front wall. My G-spot awoke from its long slumber.

“You want more, baby?” He bit softly at the skin of my most intimate area before retracing his steps with his tongue. “Ugh, Becs ... you taste so good.” He groaned. “Ready, baby? Tell me you want more, baby ... tell me.” God, he sounded so fucking hot. Usually, whenever a guy talked to me in bed, it made me roll my eyes because it sounded like cheesy porn banter. Always a major turn-off for me. Not Ray. He wasn’t trying to be hot—he just was.