Never Enough
Gillian hadn’t known the extent of it, though his distrust of the unfamiliar was fairly obvious. Gillian knew what it felt like to not have enough safe places in your life. Knew the helplessness of it. It made her want to find Adrian and hug him.
“Thank you for saying that. It helps. As for how he looks at me . . .” Her words died as she looked toward downtown. “Well, we’re . . . I’m not used to this sort of sharing, but I’m trying to learn too.” She blushed and Elise squeezed her hand.
“You don’t have to say anything. I get it. More than you can know.”
“There you are!” Adrian came out onto the terrace with Miles at his side. “Your son and my sister just trash-talked me. Can you imagine? Where’s the gratitude, Miles?”
Miles, laughing, poked Adrian in the ribs with his elbow, playfully.
Gillian couldn’t help but smile at them both, playing together the way they did. Adrian encouraged Miles’s roughhousing side.
“Like puppies, the both of you.”
Adrian looked up with a grin and then over to Todd. “He eats like one too. Christ, Todd, you should see how much this boy can put away. He’ll fit in here just fine.”
At dinner, sitting at a table in a dining room that ran the length of the windows south of the kitchen, Erin maneuvered herself next to Gillian. “How’s it going? This has to be a bit much.”
“Funny how a glass of wine can take the edge off.”
Erin laughed and Alexander looked up from where he sat with Adrian. “Mah!” He hopped down and toddled around, holding on here and there, taking whatever helping hand a nearby adult gave until he reached not Erin, but Gillian.
“Up.” He added something that sounded rather like please and automatically, Gillian picked him up, plopping him into her lap, careful not to let him too near cutlery or anyone’s drink.
“He loves the ladies, does our Alexander.” Erin cocked her head at her son, who blew her a kiss. “I’m afraid he’s just as terminally charming as the rest of the men in this family. Luckily, we’re a hearty bunch of womenfolk and can whip them into shape.”
She paused to look at her son with affection. And then back to Gillian. “I want you to like us. I can’t pretend I don’t. I’m weird that way, I guess, but when I meet people I enjoy I get excited. I promise I won’t call you at two in the morning to make you tell me I’m pretty though. I have Ben and Todd for that.” She laughed, Alexander mimicking her.
“I was telling your brother how impossible it was not to like you. You’re rather irresistible. It runs in your family. Charm.” Gillian looked to Adrian and Miles, heads bent close, up to some sort of mischief. “Adorable, the whole lot of you.”
Erin barked out a laugh, though no one seemed to notice over their own laughter and talk.
“As compliments go, that’s up there near the top. Thank you. I know we’re sort of like the Borg, sweeping in and taking over with our bright colors and loud voices.”
Gillian really did like Erin.
“Oh, you’re not as bad as that. You all certainly make Miles happy. Counts for a lot with me.”
Alexander leaned his head back into Gillian’s chest to look up at her. “You’re just as bad as the rest.” She dropped a kiss to his forehead and he grinned.
“He’s worse. He’s a hybrid. With all these bossy men around, he’s just as bad as they are. Rennie and I have decided that having you in the family makes it way better for us odds-wise. You see, we drown in all these big old alpha males around here. It’s all we can do to hold our own. You even the odds, though you do bring another boy to the table.”
“I like Rennie too.”
The little girl had set her sights on protecting and guiding Miles through the day. Miles was being sweet with her, as Gillian had no doubt he would be. But he was extra courtly with his manners and right as she watched, she saw so much of his father and uncle in him it made her stop and stare.
“I know. It’s insane. Never met his dad until a week ago and look how much alike those Brown boys are. So much Brody in him. Serious. He’s protective of you, which is very sweet.”
“I’m lucky to have a kid like him.”
Adrian looked up at her and sent all her hormones into action.
Erin looked between them, a mysterious smile on her face.
She’d been standing next to the doors looking out over the view when Adrian came to the door and tapped lightly.
She’d known he would come, and yet her heart skipped a beat as she headed to let him in.
“Hey. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” She stood aside and he came through the door, shutting it behind himself.
It had taken an extra two hours for Miles to finally drop off to sleep. He’d been so wound up and excited, and after they’d returned from Erin’s they’d hung out in Adrian’s studio, playing for several more hours.
A big day for her boy, and she was overjoyed for him. They welcomed him with open arms and open hearts. It warmed her to her toes to see these people so eager to love her son.
“You settled in all right?” He moved to stand next to her, both of them taking in the view.
“It’s a lovely room. Thank you. Your home is beautiful.”
He faced her and she wasn’t ready just yet, so she continued to watch moonlight dance on the water.
“I need you, Gillian.”
His words came in the dark, filled with emotions she didn’t know what to make of. She drowned in her own, unsure, off balance. Her reality was ill fitting, like a suit from the charity shops, and it sent her reeling.
She liked it when things made sense. Liked knowing exactly where she stood and what would happen next. She was not a woman who thrived on mystery or drama.
But that’s where she found herself. On uncertain ground with a man she wanted so much sometimes everything inside her ached. On uncertain ground about her future, her son’s future. It was good. Mostly. But not enough to push her to want to expose all the emotion in his simple statement.
She turned to him, letting her robe fall away.
His lips met hers with a brief gnash of teeth and tongue as they left words behind.
Silently, he eased her back to the bed, opening her pajama shirt with nimble fingers, sliding it off. The cool air bit against her bare skin, her nipples tightening, readying for that first brush of his thumbs.
She pulled his T-shirt off, sliding herself against him, skin to skin, bright lights against her closed eyes at the pleasure and warmth of contact.
She landed on her back and he made quick work of her pants and his own, and when he joined her, he was as naked as she, holding her for several long moments as tenderness scratched the back of her throat with the swell of emotion.
Not slow and finessed. That’s not what she needed. Not what she could bear just then.
“Hard and fast,” she murmured into his ear.
The muscles on his back tensed and bunched under her hands. He moved away just a moment and returned, ready.
She was wet, open to him as he guided the head of his cock to her gate and pressed in. She swiveled her hips, rolling them to get him inside all the way.
Now.
Now.
Now.
Her skin was on fire, sliding against his, sweat-slicked. The friction brought her system to near overload with so much sensation.
She bit his shoulder to keep the words where they belonged. Her nails dug in where she held on as he fucked into her pussy hard and fast. No sound but gasping for breath and the slick slide of cock in cunt.
The silence just made it more intense. All the tension of the unsaid swirled around them both as the frenzy of desire spiced it. She nearly drowned in how much she needed him just then. How intensely he made her feel, how much more she wanted.
He gave as good as he got. Not satisfied with her teeth in his shoulder, he wanted her mouth. So he took it. Possessing it with his own, his tongue barging in, assured and bold as you please. His taste incited her, hi
s groan when she sucked his tongue lightly shot straight to her nipples and then her clit.
He was so sure then, aggressive there in the dark. Not just guiding, but taking, pushing, driving and grabbing just exactly what he wanted, how he wanted it. It was so breathtakingly alpha and in charge she was glad not to be standing on legs he regularly turned to jelly.
She arched and he flipped, rolling to put her on top. She tucked her feet beneath his thighs and braced her hands just behind her ass as she rose and fell on his cock.
This way her cunt was exposed to him. Open as he slid a fingertip over her clit as she swallowed back a groan of pleasure.
He touched her just right. Keeping her on the edge of climax as he filled her over and over.
And when it broke, it hit her hard, shattering all around her, pulling at her composure, threatening to unravel her.
So she threw herself into it. Into that very moment as desire ran wild through her veins as orgasm turned her inside out. He continued to thrust, his muscles tight as she knew he barreled toward his own climax.
Moonlight splayed over them, just enough for her to see the drive in his features. The relentless pursuit of pleasure as he flexed and filled her completely before retreating.
Just watching him then had wedged open doors she wanted to keep shut. But there was no way she could avert her gaze. He was beautiful there, sexy and earthy. Masculine and strong.
When he came, his fingers tangled with hers, his gaze locked on her face. His kiss then was slow and tender as he came back to bed, sliding in next to her body, moving to her mouth like it was all he’d been thinking of. And she wanted that to be true more than she really wanted to admit.
He stayed next to her in the bed until the sun began to creep over the horizon.
12
“I’m having sex with Adrian.”
She blurted it out, having to say it out loud and knowing Jules wouldn’t judge her.
“I knew it.” Jules shrugged. “Can’t imagine why you waited so long to tell me. I’d say, given the way he looked at you when you were here a few weeks ago, that you two have been fucking like minks since—” Jules’s eyes lit up and Gillian just waited for it.
“You have been doing naughty naked things with Adrian Brown since pretty much day one?” Jules tsked. “Wow, my estimation of you has risen even more.”
Gillian sat on a barstool at Tart, drinking coffee and eating something that would go straight to her bum and she did not care one bit.
“Yes. He’s just . . . I’m just . . . well, I don’t know what it is but we have something really intense. Still, how can you be so casual about it? He’s Miles’s dad! He’s wholly unsuitable for me for reasons you very well know. Talk me out of it.”
Jules only rolled her eyes. “It seems to me there are two issues here. First, the Miles thing. What does he think? Does he know?”
“We’ve been careful to keep it slow and subtle in front of him. We talked about it the first time, well, you know. Anyway, neither of us is seeing anyone else. It’s been a few weeks so the most Miles is going to see is a hand hold here and there, a quick kiss on the mouth, no tongues or anything. It’s clear he knows something is happening. We’re not keeping it a secret or anything.”
“Miles would tell you if he was bothered. Or worried. He talks to you. I bet Miles can see you’re happy and he obviously likes his dad, so why not? I just have total confidence that you handle it right.”
“I’m glad you do. Me? Not so sure.”
“Gillian, you are many things, and one of those things is an awesome mother. Just be happy. Miles wants that.”
“What if it goes wrong?” She twisted her fingers.
“You’ve broken up with people before and he hasn’t gone off the rails. I mean it would suck for you on a few levels, but people do it all the time. They have perfectly cordial relationships with their ex for the sake of the kids. And both of you love Miles. So part one, check. Miles is just fine. And now that we’ve cleared that up it’s on to part two.”
Gillian held a hand up. “I need a bracing sip of tea for this, I’m sure.”
Jules smiled, looking sort of predatory. “Pfft. Does he get you off? Is it hot sex? ’Cause I gotta tell you, he looks like he knows what he’s about when it comes to fucking.”
She should have known this is how Jules would respond. Hell, maybe that’s why she’d told her to start with.
“Yes. He’s—astoundingly creative.”
Jules’s face brightened and she laughed in her quicksilver way.
“Yeah? Like how?”
Gillian had long since given up trying keep her reserve around Jules. It simply wasn’t possible. “Well, to start with, he’s tireless. When he stays over we’re on each other every time we’re alone. He’s very”—she shivered, thinking about just how to put it—“intense. Dominant. Rough, but in the right way, if you know what I mean. Also”—she took a quick look to each side before leaning in closer to her friend—“he’s a dirty talker.”
Jules fanned her face. “Girl. You don’t say? ’Cause, whew.”
“I know.” Blushing wildly, Gillian looked back to her plate for a moment.
“So clearly you and he are a fit, and we both know how hard it is for a woman to find a man who can deliver what she likes in the sack when your likes might be a little unusual.”
“It’s not inappropriate? He’s my son’s father. I’m a mum! Shouldn’t I be, you know, chaste and such?” There was no need to comment on the unusual reference in what Jules had just said. Gillian had told her what she liked a long time ago.
“How is that inappropriate? You do know how babies get made, right? Although, okay, perhaps that may not be a road you want to go down.”
Gillian laughed, finding levity in her friend’s horror.
“He can’t remember her. I don’t know why it doesn’t bother me, but it doesn’t. Most of the time Tina didn’t even really seem like she existed outside my childhood memories. I can’t be jealous of a ghost. Especially when she is just nowhere in my life to get in the way. I loved her, despite her flaws. But I don’t worry he’ll compare me to her.”
Jules nodded, thoughtful. “This makes sense. Not that he’d have much to compare even if he did remember her. You’re all curvy and sexy. You mother like a fucking warrior. You’re recommended by four outta five.”
Gillian snorted. “Well, that one doesn’t count. He was a mercy fuck. God, see how I am?”
“And how is that? Funny? Self-deprecating? Of course he wants you. You’re beautiful and talented and you smell all pretty like a lady should, and even rock stars like that. How do you feel about all this?”
She talked about it for a while, about Adrian’s life and his family. The close-knit nature that made her glad for her son and the double edge of that. The fear they’d take him somehow, or that Miles would find her wanting in the face of all that.
Jules just listened, refilling her tea and occasionally moving to deal with a new customer.
“If he tries anything, you’ll win. You’re the primary parent. You’ve done well by Miles. That boy adores you. No amount of mansions with home studios are going to change that. You have to trust the job you’ve done with him. None of us would allow them to hurt you or Miles. You have to know that. Mary would drive her truck right into that pretty face of his if he even tried. You know how we had to hold her back when you came home from that meeting.”
“I must be remembering it wrong then. I was under the impression it was you we had to hold back.”
“Tomato, tomahto.” Jules winked. “Anyhoo, I think you underestimate how much that boy adores his mom.” She shrugged. “However, I’m so glad you’re telling me all this.” Jules moved to slide onto the stool next to Gillian. She put her head on Gillian’s shoulder.
It had been hard, especially at first, to share her doubts. Her flaws and all the small, not-so-nice stuff in the corners of Gillian’s mind. She’d lived with a mask on so long it was hard to
let to go long enough to be vulnerable with someone.
But Jules wouldn’t allow it. In her own way, of course. She pushed and poked and was just there until Gillian took a risk and shared. Just a little those first few years. But she’d never judged.
In the years since, Gillian had come to trust Jules Lamprey more than anyone else on the planet.
“I know you. You’re trying to think about this in the way that makes you look the worst. Stop it. Let yourself enjoy this thing with him. Of course he wants you. Good gracious, he’d be an idiot or gay to not. You said he’s a star in bed. Is he nice to you when he’s not putting his penis in your hoo-hoo?”
Gillian laughed until tears ran from her eyes. “My what?”
“Your fertile fields. Your pink garden of delight. Your po-po. Cooter. Cootchie. To get British—your fanny. Your cunt, pussy. Dare I say, your vagina. Do I need to have the talk with you? Last I remember, you had a few things to teach me, so stop pretending you don’t know what I mean.”
“I knew what you meant, you git. Though you know how much I love the term cooter. So very romantic, you Americans.”
“That’s us. Candlelight and soft music. All the best love words ever. Also you’re an American too.”
“Half, anyway.” She laughed. “Yes. Yes, he’s nice to me when we are not engaged in carnal relations. He’s fascinating. Creative. Magnetic. He excites me sometimes with how he sees the world. I love to hear him talk about his music. I like him. A lot. And I don’t know if it’s that he’s got this thing about him, this whatever it is that makes someone a celebrity or star. You want to look at him when he comes into a room. He has this voice, well, you heard it. That drawl thing and he sounds like sex on legs. Did you notice? Wait, no, don’t tell me that. I don’t want to know.”
Jules took her hand and squeezed it before she hopped off the stool and wandered off. “I’ve never seen you so nervous and fluttery. You totally go gooey for this guy. I like that.”
“I suppose I am. Which makes me distrust it. I’m not one for fluttery and gooey. I like being in charge of all my parts. He sort of takes several of them over.”