Page 19 of Tap


  I taste the salt and swallow. That happened fast.

  “Holy shit, Wren. What the fuck was that?”

  “Good?”

  “No, great. And . . . different.”

  “I thought you needed a little bit of massage to help you come harder.”

  “That was like a fucking explosion.”

  He grasps the back of my head. “Come ’ere.”

  He flips us and crawls over me. He possesses my mouth softly, slowly. “I’m going to take you all night long—over and over until we’re so physically drained, it isn’t possible to do it again.”

  “I hope I can’t walk tomorrow.”

  His mouth hovers over my ear. The warmth of his breath sends chills down my body. “Say you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours.”

  He presses his forehead to mine, our eyes locked. “Look at me when you say it. And use my whole name.”

  I hold the sides of his face. “Lucasss?” I smile when I realize I’m sleeping with this man and don’t even know his middle name. Nice one, Lawrence.

  “Emeric.” Never heard that name before. I love it.

  “Lucas Emeric Broussard. I. Am. Yours.”

  His lips touch mine briefly before he pulls away to reach for a condom. I touch his forearm when he puts the square to his lips to tear it open. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t?”

  I take the condom from his hand and toss it to the floor. I’m offering myself to him. All of me. I’ve never done that. But I like the way it feels to let go. Make myself vulnerable to him. Trust him.

  “I’m yours. Fully.” Despite his past, I trust Brou. He won’t take me without protection if it’s not safe.

  “I’m clean but are you sure you want to do that?”

  I want to feel him with nothing between us. If that’s crazy, then it just is. “One hundred percent. And you don’t have to worry. I’m clean too.”

  He pushes stray hair from my face. “I know you are, baby. I’m not worried.”

  Brou positions his tip at my entrance and I wrap my legs around his waist. He slowly pushes himself inside me and groans. “Ohh, you feel so good.”

  He moves slowly. Sweetly. Deliberately.

  My arms are pushed over my head and his hands find mine. He laces our fingers together and squeezes. “This is where I want to be. With you. Inside you. Every day.”

  I tighten my legs as he pumps slowly. He releases one of my hands so he can touch me between my legs. Two fingertips are circling the top of my slit. It’s fucking fantastic. “Does that feel good?”

  I adjust my hips so my G-spot gets in on a little more of the action. “So good.”

  “I want you to come with me.”

  “Keep that up and I will. Real soon.”

  He’s gripping my hand tighter. His breath is faster and heavier against my neck. He’s getting close.

  The tension inside my lower body builds and an onset of rhythmic contractions begin. “Ohh . . . it’s starting.”

  “I feel it. You’re . . . squeezing me.”

  My climax is the onset of his.

  He unlaces our fingers and moves his hand to the top of my head to hold me in place. He thrusts deeply and I come hard around him.

  A moment later, his body goes lax and I know he’s empty. His semen has nothing swimming in it, but still, I like knowing a part of him is inside me.

  No condom. Nothing between us.

  Yes. It feels different.

  Both physically and emotionally.

  I think I could easily fall in love with this man. Maybe I’m already halfway there.

  Lucas Broussard

  We got one hour of sleep all night. Not a minute more.

  I take one last look around the room to make sure I have all my things. “It’s time for me to go down to the lobby.”

  “Ollie’s always late.”

  “Typically, yes, but he texted to let me know he’ll be here in five minutes.”

  “Nooo,” she groans as her chest lands against mine. “I don’t want you to go.”

  I wrap her in a tight embrace. “I know. I don’t want to leave you either.”

  “I’m happy in this little cocoon we’ve created.”

  I pull away so I can see her eyes. They’re filled with tears. “I’m happy being inside it with you. More than I thought possible.”

  I place a soft kiss on her lips before pressing my forehead to hers. “It’s two weeks. We can do this.”

  “I know but it feels like forever.”

  It does but I need to keep this positive. “It’ll be here before we know it.”

  She shakes her head and clutches the sleeves of my shirt. “I have to go, baby. We can’t risk him coming up to the room because I’m not down there.”

  She sniffles. “I know.”

  We hug tightly one last time. “I will see you in two weeks.”

  “Eleven days,” she corrects.

  “Even better.”

  I grab my bag and go to the door. “Brou?”

  I turn at the sound of my name. Fuck. How am I supposed to walk out the door now?

  Wren is standing with the hotel robe spread wide open, naked beneath it. “A visual to remember me by until we’re together again.”

  I wish I could take a picture. But since I can’t, I will etch the image into my brain. “I will think of it often.”

  “This belongs to you. No one else. Don’t forget that.”

  “I won’t, baby. Swear.”

  The elevator ride is one of the toughest ever. I want so badly to go back to her but I don’t; it’ll only prolong the inevitable and put us at risk of being discovered by Stout. We are parting ways today whether we want to or not.

  Stout is waiting for me when I exit the hotel. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t go back for that quickie I was contemplating.

  “Hey, man. Ready to hit the road?”

  “Yeah.” No.

  We aren’t ten minutes from the hotel when I decide to text Wren.

  Already counting the hours until we’re together again.

  I’ve never sent a message like that. But that’s because I’ve never felt this way about anyone.

  Me too. I’m lying in bed hugging your pillow because it smells like you.

  * * *

  I stole a pair of your panties so I’d have something that smelled like you. I won’t be washing them.

  So do not want to forget her essence. I may carry them in my pocket for easy access and sleep with them on my face.

  You’ll find one of your T-shirts missing when you unpack. I plan to wear it to bed every night. I won’t be washing it either.

  I’m jealous that shirt will be hugging her body instead of me.

  I want a pic of you in it tonight. No bra.

  * * *

  Maybe you’ll get a pic with no bra, no shirt.

  Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

  You can’t tease a guy like that.

  * * *

  Who says I’m teasing?

  Fuck.

  You are so hot. I can’t wait.

  “Texting your girl?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve never seen you be secretive about a woman. Is she married?”

  “No, jackass.” Stout is my friend but he really thinks I’m a dick when it comes to women. I need to change that opinion, and soon, if Wren and I are to have a successful go at this relationship. “It’s still very new. We want to get used to the idea before telling everyone we’re together.”

  Stout slaps the steering wheel. “Fuck, it’s somebody at Lovibond, isn’t it?”

  “No. She doesn’t work for us.”

  “How long have you known her?”

  “We met at the festival.” I need to be careful to not give too much away.

  “You’ve been fucking this chick for over a month?”

  We’re not just fucking. And she’s not a random chick. “It’s not like that. We met at the festival but didn’t talk or see
each other until later.”

  “How do you feel about her?”

  “We’ve not been a couple for long but I really like her a lot.”

  “You see this relationship turning into something more?”

  “I think it could.” I hope it does.

  “Does she know you were married? And in an open marriage?”

  “I’ve told her everything. Even introduced her to Bridgette.”

  “Dude. Girlfriend meets ex-wife. That’s serious.” Wren wasn’t my girlfriend when they met so I can’t really take credit for making it happen.

  “I think I’ve misjudged you, Tap.” This could be a turn in the right direction.

  “I’m not shitting you. This girl has turned me into a one-woman kind of man. No other woman has been worth looking at or thinking about since I met her.”

  “I think Porter and I are going to have to change your nickname from Tap to something different. Hmm. I think Whipped has a special ring to it.”

  “Fucking hilarious.” Stout can make fun of me all he likes. As long as, when the time comes, he understands how much I care for Wren.

  * * *

  Ava runs into my arms. “Hello, my sweet Bebelle.”

  She presses her precious cheek to mine. “Unky Bou, where you been?”

  “I was in Georgia visiting my friend, Wren. Do you remember her?”

  “Yesss. What behind yo’ back?” Busted.

  I hold out a gift bag with colorful tissue spilling out of the top. “Wren heard you got a little brother so she sent you a big sister present.”

  “Yay.” Streaks of pink and lime green fly in all directions.

  “Mmm hmm.” Bridgette lifts a brow. “You were visiting Wren, huh?”

  “Sure was.” Did a lot more than that while I was there, too.

  “How long did you stay?”

  “Three days.”

  Ava holds her gift in the air. “Unky Bou, whut ’dis s’pose to be?”

  “Wren has a store where she sells very special things. She made this and it’s called a dream catcher. You hang it on your bed and it protects you from nightmares.”

  “I lub it.”

  “Ava honey, why don’t you go to your room and find a place for your dream catcher while I talk to Uncle Boudreaux?”

  “’Kay.”

  I’m not surprised Bridgette wants to have a powwow. “That was very nice of Wren to think of Ava.”

  “She’s probably the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met.” I point at the other bags. “There’s something for you and Tripp too. But I have to warn you. She’s into some weird stuff so there’s no telling what she sent you. You should probably expect the unusual.”

  Bridgette lifts Tripp from her lap and holds him out for me to take. “Here. I know you’re dying to hold him.”

  I happily take the baby from Bridg. “Hey, little man. I think you’ve grown an inch since I saw you.”

  Tripp isn’t mine but he is my son’s half-brother. I can’t look at him and not wonder how similar they would have been. Would Eli have been a happy baby like Tripp? Would he have wanted a pacifier like his brother? Or preferred to suck his thumb instead?

  “Wren is a little different, isn’t she?”

  That’s an understatement. “She’s a lot different. But in the best kind of way.”

  “You haven’t mentioned a word about her since we were introduced. What’s going on?”

  “We spent time together at the festival. We clicked but had a lot of factors working against us so it didn’t seem logical to pursue anything. But then I spent the next month going batshit crazy thinking about her and I said to hell with it. I gotta go see her.”

  Bridgette chuckles. She’s loving this, seeing me go stupid over a woman. “She must have some good stuff if she pussy-whipped you in one weekend?”

  Tripp squirms in my arms and wails. “Tripp, tell your mommy Uncle Boudreaux didn’t fuck Wren the weekend of the festival,” I say in my best baby voice.

  “Heads up.” Bridgette tosses Tripp’s pacifier and I catch it midair. “You’re shittin’ me, Boudreaux.”

  A ferocious odor invades my nostrils. “I’m not but your son may be.”

  Bridgette flashes a smile. “Why do you think I gave him to you? Smeller is the feller who gets to change him.” Just like her to do something like that.

  “Let me get this straight. You met Wren, genuinely liked the woman, and then went after her in another state?”

  “You hit the nail on the head.”

  “My God, Bou. Are you in love with her?”

  “I think I could be well on my way.”

  “You totally are. Shit. I never thought I’d see the day.” Bridgette shakes her head. “Does she know about us and the kind of marriage we had?”

  “Yeah. She was completely non-judgmental about the whole thing.”

  “That’s a wonder within itself. Did you tell her about Eli?”

  “Everything.”

  “You’re such a dumbass, Bou.” What the fuck did I do? “I knew this was going to happen one day.”

  She lost me. “You knew what was going to happen?”

  “You went and had that stupid vasectomy and now you’ve found the one.”

  Bridgette is totally jumping the gun. “Whoa. Don’t put the cart before the horse. I like Wren a lot but I don’t want to go marrying her and start having sick kids.”

  Bridgette’s mouth forms a hard line. “You’re such a motherfucker for saying that.”

  “Why? You know where I stand on this.”

  “You might as well say I shouldn’t have had Ava and Tripp because they could have had problems.”

  “We’ve made different decisions. Having those beautiful babies was the right one for you.”

  “And it can be for you too with the right woman. What if she’s the one for you?”

  “I don’t want to do that again.” I couldn’t do that again. The terror in her eyes. The pain. The deep, soul-destroying depression. Losing the lively, sweet Bridgette to the shell of despair she became. Holding my beloved baby as he took his last breath. Ripped. My. Heart. Out. Losing Eli hurt like hell but seeing Bridgette in so much pain—both physically and emotionally—almost killed me.

  No. Never again.

  “Your babies would be fine if she doesn’t have the gene for renal agenesis. Does anyone in her family have one kidney?”

  “I don’t know and I’m not asking.” It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve had a vasectomy. No babies are coming out of this dick.

  “I don’t get you, Boudreaux. You could have healthy children with her.”

  “What if something different goes wrong?” I couldn’t stand to see another woman I love go through that, especially one I was in love with.

  “That’s such irrational bullshit. The brakes on your truck could fail but does that keep you from driving?”

  “Well, bullshit or not, Wren knows about the vasectomy. She says it isn’t a problem for her.”

  “Talk to me about this in six months and tell me if she’s still okay with it. No, wait. I give it three months.”

  I know what Bridgette is thinking but she’s wrong. Wren isn’t like other women. She doesn’t need marriage and babies to be happy.

  * * *

  Eleven fucking days. I left Savannah with the misbelief our reunion would be here before we knew it. I even thought the topless pics Wren texted me might help ease our time apart. Wrong. So much worse. Who knew it could feel like an eternity? I think that’s a testament to how bad I’ve missed Wren.

  We decided she should come to Birmingham this trip since Bridgette and Warren have four tickets to the James Bay concert. This feels sort of weird. I’ve done all kinds of concerts and festivals with Bridgette and Warren but I’ve never brought a woman along. Should be interesting.

  I hope Bridgette keeps her big mouth shut about the whole marriage and baby thing. Sometimes she’s under the misconception she knows what’s right for everyone else even when the
y don’t.

  I finally see Wren’s tiny hybrid car coming up my drive. Definite tree-hugger automobile. Damn thing looks like something my truck would eat for breakfast.

  She dashes toward me and crashes against my chest. Her arms quickly wrap around my shoulders. I put my hands on the back of her upper thighs and lift her from the ground so she’s straddling me. “Damn, baby. I’ve missed you.”

  She’s kissing every inch of my face. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  I carry her through the door and kick it closed with my foot. We land on the sofa, her on top of me. “It was bad, wasn’t it? Tell me it wasn’t just me.”

  “Being without you for that long was fucking brutal.”

  She grabs my bearded face only moments before her mouth descends on mine. Our teeth bump but it doesn’t stop our tongues from rolling in waves against each other.

  Now, that’s a warm hello. Hope I always get this kind of heated reunion. I love it. “You’re the one taking my breath away this time.”

  “Sorry. I’m a little excited. I had the whole drive here to think about it.” I’m guessing six hours of fantasizing about sex would rev you up for sure. It would me.

  “Bridgette and Warren want to go out for dinner before the concert. It’s their first outing since Tripp was born so they want to make the most of it.”

  Wren grinds her pelvis against me. “Oh, that means we won’t have time to play.”

  I would love to have some playtime with her right now. “I can tell them we can’t make it.”

  “I hate to do that. I’m sure they’re looking forward to a kid-free night.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want, babe.”

  She sighs loudly and I know it’s a sign she’s conceding. “We’ll go; I don’t want to disappoint them.”

  “We have two days. We’ll make it count.”

  She holds up her hand displaying three fingers. “We actually have three. I got Wynter to take Monday so I could stay over Sunday night too. I have to pay her time and a half but it’s worth every penny to get an extra night with you.”