Alone with You

Chapter Twenty-Five

Gwen

W e’d spent the rest of the night looking at old pictures, catching up, and stealing kisses like we were kids again. I’d cooked dinner, but neither of us had touched much of our food. Instead we’d sat for hours, swapping stories, alternating between laughing and crying—and sometimes a combination of the two. It was so damn surreal to have him back in my life. In my house. On my couch. His hand anchored to me no matter how we were sitting.

There was an undeniable heat between us, but a lot had happened that night, and by the time I guided him upstairs to my bed, it was well past three in the morning. Being that it was his first night away from his house in so many years, I feared he wouldn’t sleep at all. But as he casually stripped down to his boxer briefs, slid into bed behind me, and held me tight, his whole strong body relaxed. He fell asleep so fast I wondered when he’d last had a good night’s rest.

And eight hours later, when my lids fluttered open past eleven a.m. for the first time in my adult life, I wondered the same about myself. Though, as I unfurled and patted around the bed finding it cold and empty, I came awake with a jolt of adrenaline.

“Truett!” I shouted, flying out of bed.

I hadn’t bothered so much as smoothing down my sleep-mussed hair before racing down the stairs. When I rounded the corner, I caught sight of him fully dressed but barefoot, stomping my way, a protective concern contorting his face.

“What’s wrong?” he ground out.

I slowed to a stop because he clearly was not going to and I feared injury if we collided at that speed.

His hands landed on my hips and he pulled me against his chest, his worried eyes scanning my face. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” I shot back, my heart finally slowing.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. I woke up and you weren’t there, so I panicked.”

He grinned. “Babe. I have an internal alarm clock that, whether I get ten minutes of sleep or ten hours, I’m still up by seven. After I watched you sleep for a few hours, I came down here so I didn’t bother you.”

I crinkled my nose. I didn’t remember so much as rolling over that night, much less if I’d drooled all over his shoulder. “You watched me sleep?”

“Yep.” He gave my hips a squeeze.

“For hours? Plural?”

His grin stretched. “Yep.”

“Wonderful,” I mumbled.

He playfully swayed me in his arms. “It was. So fucking wonderful. I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or not. Well, until you aimed that morning dragon breath at me.”

I immediately slapped a hand over my mouth and spoke behind it. “Shut up.”

He threw his head back and laughed so hard his shoulders shook. It was such a rare sight of beauty that I smiled up at him, so lovestruck that silly cartoon hearts probably floated from my eyes.

When he looked down at me, his laughter trailed off, but his smile never wavered. “I’m kidding. You were so damn gorgeous. I had to get out of there before I made a move I wasn’t sure you’d be okay with.”

There wasn’t a move Truett West had that I wasn’t okay with, especially not as I felt his cock thicken between us.

Morning breath be damned, I looped my arms around his neck. “Oh, yeah, and what was that?”

He answered by sliding his hand over the curve of my ass. My little blue nighty did little to cover me. I might have frantically dug it out of the back of my closet as we’d prepared for bed for exactly that reason.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Definitely.

His eyes heated as his fingers lingered, dipping beneath my panties to palm my ass. “How ya feeling today?” he asked.

Breathless, I replied, “Good.”

“You still feel like giving me a chance?”

Boldly reaching between us, I slid my hand up his length. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t give you, True.”

He let out a growl, and then covered my mouth with his. As our tongues dueled for control, his deft fingers swept between my legs.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he rumbled into my mouth. “Here or upstairs?”

I fisted the front of his shirt, trying to keep my balance as he skillfully found my clit. “True.”

“Here or upstairs?” he repeated with such a gentle dominance it sent a chill down my spine.

God, this man. Nobody had ever been able to light me on fire like him. Desperate for more, I took a step to the side, opening my legs to allow him more room to play.

“I’ll take that to mean here.”

Ravaging my mouth, he blindly guided me to the couch. It was only a few feet, but with furious hands and desperate need, we’d stripped each other naked before I felt the cushions hit the back of my knees.

Nipping at my bottom lip, he plucked my nipple, sending sparks to my core. “I’ve been thinking about you like this all damn morning. So fucking sexy. All fucking mine.”

“Yours,” I agreed, a promise and a vow that sent a second wave of heat through me. “All yours.”

“Sit down, baby.” His intense gaze swept over my body, appreciation for what he was seeing evident in the low growl that slipped through his lips. “Last time I didn’t have the control to take it slow, but today, I want to watch. It’s been too long since I’ve seen your face when you come on my fingers, even if it was on the back of my eyelids every time I gripped my cock.”

My stomach dipped. “You thought about me when you got yourself off?”

A wry smile twisted his lips. “Gwen, baby, you are the only woman I’ve ever thought about. There’s never been anyone else.”

I blinked at him. It was a sweet statement that could very easily have been hyperbole. But there was something in his eyes that sparked a thought. “Have you been with anyone since…”

He shook his head. “No. I never felt right about using a woman just to pretend she was you.”

My mouth fell open, shock mixing with sadness. “Never?”

“Wipe that pity off your face. I got two hands and one hell of a memory. I took care of myself just fine.”

Oh.

My.

God.

Oh my God.

OhmyGod!

“Truett,” I whispered, resting my hand on the side of his face.

“Sit down, Gwen.”

“That’s so long.”

“Yep, and the longer you stand here talking about it, the longer I’m gonna have to wait again.” He rubbed circles over my back as he explained, “Look, I’m sure I could have figured something out or met someone online over the years. But I didn’t want to. When I slid that ring on your finger at eighteen, that was it for me. You have always been it for me.” Fingertips dug into my flesh, my skin erupting with goose bumps. “I fucked it up and lost you, but I’m here now, and you’re giving me the chance to make things right. You preach a whole lot about me being stuck in the past for us to be naked and standing here talking about who I haven’t slept within the last eighteen years.”

I bit my bottom lip. He had a point.

He was also naked, his cock long and hard. His dark gaze was aimed at me in a way that held immeasurable amounts of promise. Promises, I knew all too well he could and absolutely would fulfill.

But mainly it was Truett. If he wanted to watch, I wanted to be the entire fucking show.

Lowering myself, I reclined back on the couch and spread my legs wide, opening to him.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and dragged his fingertips up my inner thigh. “So fucking beautiful.” Capturing my mouth, he sank to his knees before me, his fingers slowly entering me. He swallowed my moans, feasting on my pleasure. Seemingly fueled by the nourishment, he released my mouth and stared down at his hand—his skilled fingers coaxing and curling inside me.

I writhed as he found all the right places, even those I’d yet to discover on my own. Somehow, he knew, as if it were a secret only he had been privy to. One that he had kept for eighteen years waiting on the moment it could be revealed again.

“Yes, Truett,” I breathed, arching my back. He stole the moment to fold over and suck my nipple into his mouth. It was the most overwhelming moment of pure ecstasy. His tongue swirled at my breast as his thumb caressed my clit, sensations firing in every direction, until my body had no other option than to shatter.

The orgasm tore through me like a hurricane of pleasure, ruthless and tranquil all wrapped up in one. But he didn’t stop there.

Not my Truett.

“Fuck, Gwen,” he rasped as I rode the pulsing waves, lost in a sea of euphoria. When the last pulse of pleasure washed through me and I felt the loss of his hand, he asked, “You want to get on top, or you want me to carry you to bed?” His lips curled in a sexy smirk. “Although, gotta say, I fucked you on a desk last time, I don’t feel good about taking you on a couch now.”

Head swirling, a smile curled my lips. He’d always been incredible in bed, so gentle and attentive. We weren’t done until we were both fully spent, and if he got there before I did, he’d make sure I came on his fingers or tongue before we collapsed into a tangle of sated bodies.

I missed the days where I had choices, and always got to be the loudest voice when it came to when and how we made love.

Did I want him to carry me to bed and continue to worship my body as only he could? Absolutely.

But he’d had his show, now I wanted mine.

Leaning forward, I grabbed his shoulders, encouraging him to move to the couch beside me. When he settled on the cushion, I turned and threw a leg over him, straddling his lap.

A wicked grin curled his lips. “You still hungry, baby?”

“Starved,” I whispered, positioning him at my opening.

He let out a groan as I lowered myself onto the tip of his length. “Then take what you need. Everything you need. From me .”

In one swift movement, I sank down, hard and fast. He let out a low curse, his head falling back against the couch cushion, as a cry escaped my mouth.

It was more than a moan, more than a vocal expression of pleasure.

It was a cry of perfection, of finally feeling home again.

A cry for time lost, and a sigh of relief as the Earth finally tilted back on its axis.

I rode him hard, greedy as if I needed to reclaim him even though he’d admitted that he’d always been mine. I hadn’t always been his though, and while I regretted nothing because of the child I’d gained, I needed him to understand that there would never be a moment when I wasn’t his again.

“Easy,” he rumbled, his fingertips biting into my hips. “I’m not going to last long if you keep that up.”

I didn’t slow; if anything I sped up, rolling my hips in a relentless rhythm that ensured I wouldn’t be lasting long either.

“Dammit, Gwen,” he groaned as he released my hips and folded his arms around me, using me as leverage to drive into me from the bottom. “Come on, baby, give me one more. Let me feel you milk my cock.”

The pressure built inside of me again, and I fought the urge to close my eyes and lose myself in the sensations. I wanted to see him fall off the edge.

Dear God, he was a beautiful sight.

Muscles straining beneath dense tattoos as his mouth hung open, his every upward thrust deeper than the last, his eyes locked onto mine, a raw intensity in his gaze that sent chills over my body.

I could feel his resolve weakening, the tension building in his body, mirroring my own. The sound of our ragged breaths filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and desire.

I raked my nails down his biceps, feeling the ripple of his muscles under my touch. “Don’t stop,” I begged.

His response was a deep, guttural groan that sent a surge of fire coursing through me.

With a final, powerful thrust, he teetered on the edge, his eyes closing momentarily before they snapped open, wild and blazing.

We shattered, the past dissolving, leaving us reeling and together in the present.

Spent, my body sagged as I braced myself with my forearms on either side of him.

“Jesus,” he rasped, peppering kisses across my collarbone.

I smiled, lazy and sated. “I couldn’t agree more.”

His chest heaved with labored breaths. “You know we’re gonna have to use a bed one of these days.”

“Maybe. But we have plenty of time to get there.”

A profound reverence painted his face as he drew in a deep breath. “I hope so.”

Using both my hands, I framed his. “I’m here, True. No hope necessary. What happens from here with us is completely up to you.”

He nodded and rested his forehead on mine. “I won’t fuck this up again. I swear, whatever it takes to keep you, I’ll do it.”

I kissed him, chaste but filled with emotion. “I love you, True. But the things you need to do have to be done for you and not just to keep me.”

He nodded, a grin curling the side of his mouth. “I know, but a little incentive never hurt anyone.”

I laughed as I eased off of him. The loss was staggering, but my body, while tender, had never felt better. Grabbing my nighty off the floor, I pulled it on as I walked to the downstairs bathroom to clean up. When I got back, he had pulled on his jeans, but remained shirtless, casually stretched out on the couch, like a Greek God.

“C’mere,” he said, patting the space in front of him. It was already late, and I had a busy day at the restaurant ahead of me, but cuddling with Truett was not an offer I would ever deny.

He flipped to his back, and I squeezed in beside him, resting my head on his pec. Contentment washed over me as I nestled into his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek grounding me with a sense of safety and belonging, as if this was where I was always meant to be.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “How you feeling?”

While I was blissed out of my damn mind, my lips got loose. “Good. Well, better than good, actually. I forgot how nice it is not to vomit after sex.”

His body turned to stone and I regretted my choice of words immediately. “What do you mean vomit after sex ?”

Tracing the black tattoos on his chest, I tried to brush it off. “Nothing. So, are you planning to come to the restaurant with me?”

Using two fingers under my chin, he tipped my head back, forcing my gaze to his. “Yeah, I’m coming to the restaurant. I called into work earlier and took a few days off so we can get you caught up. But first, you’re gonna tell me who the hell made you vomit after sex.”

I sighed. It was a conversation we would have to have eventually, but five minutes after some seriously incredible sex didn’t seem ideal. “I just meant, I’ve been with someone else, ya know, after us.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I know you have a kid, Gwen. I didn’t figure it was an immaculate conception. But I did figure it was a man who loved and took care of you.” His face flashed hard. “Is this the jackass who you said used you as a punching bag?”

Shit. “Yes, but—”

“Before you try to sugarcoat this, I need to remind you that you promised me at the restaurant that you wouldn’t lie to me and you’d tell me if that fucker hurt you.”

I sat up, the air between us suddenly unbreathable. “Yes, and I also told you that he did hurt me. Just not in the way you were assuming.”

His eyes flashed wide, a hurricane brewing within them as he sat up, pinning me with a malevolent glare. “Then I’m going to need you to be really specific here, Gwen. Because right now, I’m assuming some pretty fucked-up shit that left you vomiting after sex.”

He would have been assuming right.

It was fucked up.

The way Jeff had thought I owed him my body just because I wore his ring. The way he thought me changing clothes or taking a shower was an open invitation for him to grope me. The way he would use his words to beat me down, emotionally exhausting me until it was just easier to give him what he wanted rather than spend the next week living with his snide comments or the silent treatment.

Sex had been a tipping point in my decision to divorce him. I’d struggled for so long, thinking there was something wrong with me, even going so far as to go to the doctor to find out why I had no libido.

Turned out, I didn’t have a problem with sex at all.

I was just having it with the wrong man.

“Gwen,” Truett prompted, his patience waning.

“Look, yes. At the end of our marriage, when he’d browbeat me into sex, I would sometimes throw up afterward. But he never forced himself on me.”

Truett slanted his head. “You ever say no?”

I grimaced. “There were times where I wouldn’t want to do certain things, and he’d get mad, so I’d just…give in to avoid conflict. But—”

“No buts!” He lurched to his feet, stabbing a hand into his hair. “That’s not consent, Gwen. That’s fucking manipulation and coercion. Please, God, tell me you recognize that.”

“I do,” I shot back. “I absolutely do. And it sucks that it took me entirely too long to figure out how toxic he was. For years, I was so blinded by the desire to keep my family together that I missed every single red flag even when they were flown directly in front of my face. But I figured it out eventually and left him.”

He planted his hands on his hips. “You call the cops first?”

“What? No.”

“So this fucker just got away with taking advantage of you? Treating his woman like a piece of meat? That woman being his own Goddamn wife? That woman being the love of my fucking life?” His last statement/question was spoken only a half decibel below a yell.

His tone made my attitude slip. “Yeah, that sums it up. Thank you for the recap. But you know what? You are yelling at the wrong person right now. I let it go. I went to therapy. I did a lot of soul searching. I worked on me . Jeff Weaver is an asshole with no moral compass, so he is no longer in my life. My only concern with him from here on out is to teach my son the difference between right and wrong. And how to respect himself and whoever he chooses to date one day to ensure he doesn’t end up like his father.”

His chest heaved as he stared at me. “This is on me. I never should have let you go.”

I rolled my eyes. “I believe we’ve more than covered that part in recent weeks, but this is not on you. I hate to break this to you, Truett, but not everything is about you. What was it you told me recently? Some things happen for a reason. Some things happen for no reason. And then some things just never happen at all. Through the years, I put up with a lot of shit: heartbreak, grief, turmoil, trauma—you name it, I’ve been there. But I have no regrets, because Jeff falls under the ‘some things happen for a reason’ category. Without him and all the bad that came with it, I wouldn’t have Nate and all the incredible that comes with him .”

He remained silent, and for once, it didn’t piss me off.

I understood why he was pissed. Dylan and Angela had had similar reactions when I’d confessed the depths of Jeff’s abuse. On some levels, it was sweet that Truett was so protective. But I’d just had amazing sex with a gorgeous man who touched me with love and care, who had promised to work on himself so we could then work on a future together the way it was always supposed to be. The last thing I wanted was to be discussing Jeff fucking Weaver and his dumpster fire of issues.

Standing up, I slowly made my way over to Truett. I pressed up onto my toes for an all-too-brief kiss. “I love you. I’m sorry that beautiful moment we shared ended with this conversation, but it’s done. He can’t hurt me anymore.” I patted him on the chest and pleaded with my eyes for him to let this go. “We have a lot to do today, so I’m going to go take a shower. We can grab some lunch and then head to the restaurant. Okay?”

He stood there, stone-faced as his jaw ticked at the hinges, obviously still so pissed it was hard to breathe the same air. But he didn’t delay in replying with, “I love you too. More than you will ever know.”

I grinned. “You shower already?”

He shook his head.

Walking my fingers up his still bare chest, I teased, “Well, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to water conservation recently. Maybe you should come join me. You know. For the environment.”

A ghost of a smile flitted over his mouth. “You go ahead. I need a few minutes.”

Disappointed, I pressed one last kiss to his lips and then left him standing in my living room.

When I came back downstairs twenty minutes later, he was gone.

And so was my car.