Chapter 16 Talia #2
He hummed. Another hum without an explanation to follow.
“Dex and Vivi have been together for a long time, but he’s just recently met Kadence.
We didn’t introduce them until after the divorce.
But she knows that Vivi loves him. She knows that Vivi and I will always love her, even if we’re not married. ”
“Was the divorce hard on her?”
“Yes and no. Yes, because it means we’ve had a lot of change. Yes, because it happened right after Arlo died, and like it or not, he was her grandfather. No, because the first time she saw Dex kiss Vivienne, Kadence came to me and asked me why I never kissed Mommy like that.”
I leaned back to study his face. “You didn’t kiss Vivienne?”
He stopped moving, locking his eyes with mine. “Not on the mouth.”
But they’d been married for seven years. How was that possible? “Earlier tonight, when you kissed me in the kitchen, Kadence saw us. She had this look on her face.”
“She’s piecing it together.”
That Vivienne loved Dex and that was why she kissed him.
That Foster loved me.
Kadence was connecting the dots.
“Vivienne is my friend,” Foster said. “Nothing more. I don’t kiss Vivienne. I am not in love with Vivienne. And I have never had sex with Vivienne.”
This time, it was me who stepped on his foot. “W-what?”
“We didn’t have a marriage, Talia. We had a prison sentence. When she got with Dex, I didn’t see that as cheating, because she’s only ever been my cellmate.”
His companion.
So if he hadn’t been with Vivienne, then who? Anyone?
“I waited a long time for you, love. I’ll wait as long as you need. You are mine.” And he was here in Quincy to claim me.
“I don’t—” How did I say this? “I, um—”
“Don’t tell me.” Foster put his finger over my mouth. “The idea of you with another man . . . I can’t think about it. I can’t hear it. So don’t tell me.”
There was nothing to tell.
Pathetic, right? He’d broken my heart into a thousand pieces, and I still hadn’t been able to move on. I hadn’t been able to let him go. Instead, I’d concentrated on school and work, blocking out even the idea of someone new because deep down, no one would ever be Foster.
I wrapped my hand around his wrist, pulling it away from my lips. “There hasn’t been another man.”
His eyes narrowed. “What?”
Saying it again was too hard, so I shrugged.
“Fuck.” Foster’s hands came to my face, his fingers threading into my hair as he dropped his forehead to mine. His entire body sagged, like he’d just let go of seven years’ worth of worry.
“Say something,” I whispered.
“How many?”
“How many, what?”
One of his hands unthreaded from my hair, his fingertips skimming over my cheek.
The sparks beneath his touch spread as he trailed lower and lower, over my collarbone and to the swell of my breast. Then he skimmed my ribs, dropping past my hip until he brushed my thigh and moved those fingers between my legs, pressing hard enough for me to gasp.
“Orgasms.”
I wasn’t sure who moved first. It might have been him, capturing my mouth. Or it could have been me, throwing my arms around his shoulders and climbing his body like a damn tree.
The lights were ignored. The TV was left on Kadence’s movie. And the world was forgotten as Foster carried me through the house.
My legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue twisted with mine. His leg bumped into the coffee table as we skirted the living room. My ass brushed the banister when he started up the stairs. He stopped halfway, angling his mouth as our kiss became frantic.
A groan rumbled from his chest. A moan escaped my throat as I tore my mouth away.
“Bed. Hurry.” I clung tighter to his shoulders as he rushed us up the stairs, glancing both ways. “Left.”
He strode down the hallway, his mouth finding mine again.
My back hit a wall, his body trapping me in place as he devoured. Until I was breathless and tugging at his shirt. Foster hauled me off the wall and stepped into my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.
Three steps and we were falling onto the bed, his weight hitting mine as his arousal pressed into my core.
Another moan. Another whimper. Our mouths remained fused as our hands roamed, tugging and pulling to get each other out of our clothes.
My shirt was gone first, yanked over my head and thrown over his shoulder.
His T-shirt came next, pulled from behind his neck with corded arms and tossed to the floor.
Jeans. Pants. A bra. Boxers. Panties. Piece by piece, they made their way to the floor until there was nothing but Foster’s naked heat against my skin.
And the wet sear of his mouth as he dropped kiss after kiss on my body.
His tongue dipped into my navel as he kissed along my belly, lower and lower until he was just above the place where I needed him most.
“Did you touch yourself thinking of me?”
“Yes.” I threaded my fingers through his hair, urging him lower, but he didn’t move. He licked a path across my belly.
“Tell me how.”
I let go of his hair, ready to touch myself, but he batted my hand away. “Foster.”
“Tell me, Talia.” The rasp in his voice, rough and thick, made me shiver. “What did you do first?”
“I’d touch my clit.”
He kissed my hip bone, then shifted, leaning on his side as he touched my clit. “How?”
“Slow at first.” I panted as he did the same. “Just light.”
He hummed. “Then what?”
“Then I’d go lower.”
Foster moved his hand, his fingers dipping into my soaked folds.
“Yes,” I hissed. “More.”
He obeyed, my voice becoming his command.
“Back to my clit,” I breathed.
Except this time, instead of doing it with his finger, he shifted, his hands going to my knees. “Spread.”
I was wholly exposed, the cool air skimming my sensitive flesh. Until his tongue was there, lapping at my wetness. “Oh, God, baby.”
“Fuck, you taste sweet, Tally.” He fluttered his tongue against my clit, causing my back to arch off the bed.
My moan filled the room, my legs trembling.
This man and his wicked tongue. He licked me again, a growl vibrating against my skin. And then he dove in, like a man starved, and feasted. His beard rubbed against the sensitive skin on the inside of my thighs. His tongue was relentless, licking and sucking until I writhed beneath him.
“Foster.” I clutched the bedding at my sides, my legs spreading even wider.
“You’re mine, love. Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“That’s my good girl.” He slipped a long finger inside, stroking that sensitive spot, and I came apart.
A loud moan, entirely uncontrolled, came from my throat and he reached up, covering my mouth with his palm.
Pulse after pulse, the orgasm crashed into me as stars broke behind my eyes. Foster’s tongue never stopped, not until I collapsed on the bed, spent and boneless.
“There’s one,” he murmured, kissing the inside of my knee.
I smiled, my eyelids too heavy to open.
“Look at me,” he ordered as he hovered above me, his elbows bracketing my head. His hips settled into the cradle of my own, his cock pressing into my sensitive flesh. Then he waited until I opened my eyes, his darkened gaze waiting.
“I love you.” He rocked against my core. “Fuck, but I love you.”
My heart stopped.
I opened my mouth, a surge of panic rising, when there were no words to say.
I loved him. I’d loved Foster for what felt like my entire life. I just . . .
Why couldn’t I say it?
He ran his knuckles along my cheek, then he hummed. A hum that said it was okay. That he understood. That he’d be here when I was ready.
I lifted off the pillow, my mouth finding his. Then I flicked my tongue against his, tasting myself. One thrust of his hips and he buried himself to the root, stealing my breath. I stretched around him, meeting his strokes, needing more and more and more.
Every need, Foster anticipated. Every touch, he drove me higher. Until I clawed at his back, my nails digging deep, and shattered.
He buried his face in my neck, pouring his own release inside of me. After the haze cleared, he wrapped me in those strong arms and held me, twisting us so I was draped across his chest.
“Say it again,” I murmured, sleep creeping in at the edges.
“I love you.”
This time it was me who hummed.
Maybe if he said it over and over, I’d be able to say it back. Maybe if he said it over and over, I’d stop thinking about the years we’d missed.
Maybe if he said it over and over, I’d stop worrying that love wasn’t enough.