Preston's Honor(38)

I felt ashamed. Her first time should have been in a bed with sweet words and tender touches. Her body should have been slowly and lovingly prepared to ease the way, not torn open by a thrusting, half-hinged savage. Fuck. What had I been thinking? Answer: I hadn’t. “Your first time shouldn’t have been that way. I’m sorry about—”

She put her fingers to my lips. “Don’t be sorry. Please don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

A sense of relief flowed through me, but my personal shame lingered. I should have controlled myself. That was my responsibility, not hers. I let out a shaky breath, nodded and kissed her again lightly. Because I could. Because she was mine. Because . . . she’d always wanted me to kiss her.

We gathered our clothes and dressed in silence. I picked up the chairs and returned them to the table, using a napkin to wipe the wood—I’d do a more thorough cleaning of it later so I didn’t embarrass Lia any more than necessary.

When I turned toward her she was attempting to close her shirt with the two buttons that remained, hanging loosely but still attached. I grimaced. There was a coat tree by the front door in the foyer and I went and grabbed a sweatshirt of mine hanging there and returned quickly, handing it to her. “Stay here. I’m going to go tell Cole you’re not feeling well and that I’m driving you home.”

“What if he comes in here?” She looked mortified at the thought.

“Tell him you got sick and your shirt was ruined. I’ll encourage him not to, though. He’s been drinking. I would have had to drive you home anyway.”

She nodded resolutely, pulling the sweatshirt over her head. It swam on her and was far too warm for the weather, but it would do for now.

“The restroom’s that way?” she asked, pointing toward the foyer.

“Yeah.”

She nodded, looking shy again.

“I’ll be right back.” I took one last look at her, my heart swelling with love, despite the awkwardness in the aftermath of our first time together, and left to find my brother. My brother whom I’d just betrayed by breaking our oath. Fuck.

A man is only as good as his word. And I was currently pretty worthless. So why did I feel so fucking happy? Why did I feel like instead of breaking my word, I’d kept some promise? A promise that had been buried deep inside my heart and was finally, finally seeing the light of day.





CHAPTER TEN


Annalia



The dirt road was bumpy and I felt the soreness between my legs with each jostle and jolt. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling and yet with each twinge of discomfort, I was reminded that that was where Preston had been and also felt the soft fluttering of joy within my heart.

Preston had made love to me. Preston wanted me. It still felt like a sweet, turbulent dream or one of the fantasies I tended to conjure as I walked somewhere far away and got lost in my own mind.

I stole a quick glance at him and though he was looking straight ahead, I could see that his expression was pensive and it made me feel insecure.

“What did you tell Cole?”

“That you’d gotten really sick, and I needed to take you home right away.”

I nodded. “Okay . . . thanks.” I wasn’t exactly sure what I was thanking him for, but it felt like the right thing to say.

He glanced at me and smiled, taking my hand in his and holding it for the remainder of the ride into town. “You’ll have to tell me where you live,” he said softly.

I directed him to my apartment building and doing so reminded me how separate our lives were, how little he really knew about me. Was he thinking the same thing?

He pulled into a space in the parking lot of my building, looking at it for a moment before turning my way. “We have to talk.”

I nodded, knowing we did but feeling anxious. “I know.” I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt, biting at my lip.

When I looked up, Preston was looking at me, his expression tender. “Come here,” he said and I did so quickly. He chuckled softly as I flew into his arms, needing reassurance, needing comfort, needing him. He’d swept me off solid ground, happily, wondrously, but now I needed him to help me regain some footing.

He whispered my name as he held me, kissing my forehead, my cheeks, my eyelids, and my nose. He ran his hands over me, but not in the same way he had earlier. This felt calm and tender, and I soaked it up like the sponge I’d always been when it came to physical affection. But this was even more pleasurable because it was coming from Preston. The intense longing I’d felt for him all my life was being quenched tonight in so many ways. I felt giddy and unsure and joyful and hesitant.

Finally, he pulled back from me slightly and said, “We have to tell Cole what happened.”

I nodded. “Cole and I aren’t together, Preston . . . we just . . .” I looked away, considering my words. “I don’t know, we’ve just sort of tiptoed around being more than friends with a few benefits but it’s never actually happened.” I blushed, not liking the way that made me sound. Sort of easy? The kind of girl who let a guy kiss her whenever he was in the mood but never demanded more from him? Or maybe just shallow? My feelings for Cole weren’t shallow, though. They just weren’t any more than friendly. If tonight had proven anything it was that Preston was the one I wanted with every fiber of my being. He was the one I craved. He was the other half of my heart.