All Stars Fall (Seaside Pictures #3.5)(34)

She moaned and then her head fell back against my lap. I kept rubbing her neck then moved upwards, until I got to her face, my knuckles grazing her jaw.

Her eyelashes fluttered open. “What are we doing?”

“You’re sitting. I’m massaging.”

“Right.” She looked like she didn’t believe me.

The yearning was too much. Maybe the sickness made me weak. Maybe I’d just been weak all along.

“I’m sorry.” I licked my lips. “For what I said.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” She stared up at me, her head resting in my lap, my hands touching her.

Tense silence descended.

And so did my head.

Lower, lower, until I captured her lips in a punishing kiss. She wrapped her arms back around my head as I deepened the kiss.

She broke away from me, turned, and crawled into my lap.

This. This was what I wanted.

What I needed.

I groaned against her mouth. “I’m better at this when I’m not sick and running a fever.”

“I…” She kissed down my neck. “Believe…” She nipped my lower lip. “You.”

“God, you taste good.”

“You said—”

“Forget what I said,” I whispered against her mouth. “Just don’t make me stop kissing you. I don’t think I could handle it.”

“Well, you are sick….”

“Yes, feel sorry for me, kiss it better.” I grinned as I angled my head to get more of her taste.

“I’ll try” was her response.

And try she fucking did.





Chapter Seventeen



Penelope




I was crossing so many lines.

Lines that felt good.

His skin beneath my hands felt rough, like he hadn’t shaved in two days, and the friction against my mouth was painful and passionate. With each movement, I was trying to get closer and closer to him.

“You’re sick,” I whispered against his mouth as the clock in the living room ticked slowly like we needed a reminder that there were kids upstairs, that we both had very different lives as he’d so painfully reminded me earlier that day.

Attraction was one thing.

Acting on it was another.

But believing it could go past those two things? That just seemed like the road to a broken heart.

“Hey.” He braced my head with both of his hands. “I have a headache, and yeah, I feel like shit, but it’s not like I have a head cold or anything.”

“Because those are worse?”

“Always.” He grinned. “Penny…” He swept me up in another kiss that had me forgetting I was straddling him on his couch with his kids upstairs.

“Daaaaaaaad!” Eric wailed. “Malcom hit me!”

“Hit him back,” he grumbled against my lips before pulling away and yelling up the stairs. “Kinda busy right now!”

“Daaaaaaaaad!” Footsteps thumped overhead, heading toward the stairs.

Slowly, I pried myself away from Trevor’s warm body, from the muscles that held me close and the lips that kept me there. On wobbly legs, I moved around the couch and walked into the kitchen while Eric made a beeline for his dad and threw his hands in the air in frustration.

Trevor got on his level. “You guys need to stop fighting.”

Malcom ran down the stairs yelling, “He said Mom isn’t ever coming back! Tell him, Dad, tell him it’s not true!”

Bella stood at the top of the stairway, tears in her eyes.

I wanted to fix it. God, how did I fix it?

I hated that Trevor was right. They were his number one priority. It would be selfish of me to ask for more, to ask for him to make space for one more when they were barely surviving.

“Bella, sweet.” I beamed up at her. “Do you want to help me make some cookies?”

Eric’s head whipped in my direction. “What kind?”

“Depends.” I crossed my arms. “Are you going to be nice to your brother?”

He seemed to think about it while Malcom wiped the tears on his cheeks.

“Tell you what. I’ll let all three of you help while your dad rests.” I gave Trevor a pointed look. “And while they’re baking, we can pick out a board game.”

“Yay!” Bella cheered.

Both boys shrugged, but I could see the excitement glimmer in their eyes. They were good kids, they were just hurting, and hurting people hurt people, didn’t they?

“Eric,” Trevor intervened. “Apologize to Malcom, please.”

Eric turned to his brother and sighed like the world was against him, his shoulders slumped forward. “Sorry I said Mom wasn’t coming back.”

“It’s okay.” Malcom sniffled. “Don’t you want her to, Eric?”

“No.” Eric said in an indifferent voice. “She used to make us be quiet and sit in front of the TV while she invited her friends over. She never played with us like Dad or Penny.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“She’s not good enough for us,” Eric added in a confident voice as he made his way into the kitchen and stared me down. “We need directions.”