Feisty Red (Three Chicks Brewery #2) - Stacey Kennedy Page 0,52

of lavender as she met his lips with a kiss that made his mind go utterly blank. Until she whispered against his lips, “Once more, Sullivan. Please, I need you once more before you leave.”

He heard it in her voice then. She believed he was leaving her again. For good. Unsure how to make all this right, and feeling desperation to keep her close and safe, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, and sealed his mouth across hers. He kissed her feverishly, until they were both breathless and she was grinding against him. There was a time to tease, but this wasn’t that time. All he wanted was her, and he knew she wanted the same.

Leaving his clothes in place, he grabbed a condom from his wallet out of his back pocket, and she rose up enough for him to open his jeans. When he settled the condom in place, he didn’t wait. He wrapped a hand around her hip and lowered her down onto him. Their groans echoed in the bathroom as she began moving, rocking back and forth, their mouths and tongues dancing together until they had a rhythm that wasn’t about a release; it was about a connection. He felt tied to her, grounded by their history and the affection between them.

She moved faster, harder, and Sullivan leaned away. He cupped her face, held her gaze as she rode him. Lost in her eyes, he realized he knew exactly how to show her he had no intention of leaving her like he did before. That this time, it was different. That he would come back. “I love you, Clara,” he said, and she froze atop him, her eyes wide in surprise. She slid her delicate hands through his hair, and he knew now, more than ever, he had to tell her. “I have never loved anyone before you, and there was no one after you. Just you. Always you, Clara.”

She leaned in, and he thought she planned to end the conversation with a kiss. Instead, she surprised him by saying, “I love you, too, Sullivan.”

Needing to hold onto her, he tangled his fingers into her hair, holding her tight. “I’m going to make this safe and right for you and Mason. I’m going to fix all this. We will figure this out, and when I come back, we’ll be the family we should have always been, Clara.”

There was a flash in her eyes, the slight look of familiarity to know they’d been in this exact spot before. “Promise?” she asked. The exact same words she asked him seven years ago.

“Promise,” he told her firmly. He couldn’t stand that look of doubt on her face. Hated himself for it. He wished he could go back and change everything, but he couldn’t. All he had was now, and he wouldn’t waste it.

Gathering her in his arms, he gently laid her out on the bathmat. On his knees, with her love sweetening the air around him, he hooked her legs on his arms and, staring into that perfect love, wanting to stay there forever, drove into her. Claiming what he wished he could keep with him always, he took them both where they wanted to go. Together.

14

Later that night, a few hours after Sullivan said a gut-wrenching goodbye to Mason, Clara stood outside of her son’s door watching him sleep. She felt like it was impossible to draw in air into her lungs fully; everything felt empty. The way his eyes saddened when Sullivan said he had to leave to go home to play baseball caused Clara’s chest to ache, but with the promise of FaceTiming tomorrow, Mason had simply hugged Sullivan then run off to play. Alongside that, I love you, Clara, echoed in her heart. A month ago, she’d been determined to not let Sullivan back into her heart. To say goodbye at the end of his time here, able to put the mistakes of the past behind her. Now she didn’t want to say goodbye. This time, his leaving felt different, of course, but it also felt as wrong as the last time. He should be here, with them. All this pain, all the heartache. They both deserved a win. More importantly, Sullivan deserved to stop being on the receiving end of abuse, and as far as Clara was concerned, the reporters, telling their lies and spreading hate, were equally as abusive.

Clara sighed, folding her arms to warm the chill in her veins, and