Part 4 (1/2)

”Rhiannon, be patient, we've waited a long time for this moment.”

And then with the words barely from his lips his mouth was on me. Hot and fierce and demanding. His tongue caressed my c.l.i.t while his mouth sucked. One finger, now two, pulsed in and out of my body. My hand found his head and I clutched him. My hips bucked wildly into his mouth. The light shattered around me, and his eyes met mine one final time. I crashed over the edge and cascaded into shattered bits of light from the pleasure of his mouth on me.

I clutched him and I went over the edge again and again and again. My body jerked and spasmed with his stroke. I shuddered one final time and Sterling pulled his mouth from me. He appeared satisfied. Pleased that he'd brought me so much pleasure. I was heavy-lidded and wet and sated and yet I wanted him. I wanted him inside me. My eyes roamed over the hugeness of his c.o.c.k. His lips pressed to mine and I tasted the earthy goodness of me on his lips. My hands grasped him and his breath became uneven. He pulled his lips from mine.

”Rhiannon, we don't have to, we can wait-”

”We've waited seven years,” I said. ”We've waited long enough.”

Sadness colored his eyes and I knew it reflected what I felt in my heart. My leaving might have been necessary for me, but the loss had been painful to us both. The way I left-the unkindness and selfishness of the choices I'd made that surrounded my departure.

Sterling closed his eyes and pressed his lips to mine but the heat was not there. Desire yes, but something in his kiss was gone. He pulled away and looked at me. A look of loss weighted his features. I understood it. I could feel the pain that clutched his heart, how intertwined the loss of me that summer was to all the other losses of that time. Fear entered his eyes. I reached my hand to his face and my fingertips caressed his strong jaw.

”Nous ne devons pas mon amour.”

His arm wrapped around me and while he was still hard he did not press into me. Instead he held me, clasped his arms tightly around me. Then he reached down and pulled the blanket up from the foot of the bed and covered us both. Sadness gripped me and it seemed that we both would need to wait some more.

Sterling.

Rhiannon's body was as I remembered. Her skin soft. She tasted of summer and promises. I wanted her with a desire I hadn't felt since I'd been with her. There had been so many woman, countless women, adventures pleasurable, hedonistic, full of hot s.e.x, the s.e.x of fantasy, and yet nothing as sweet as Rhiannon. The taste of her lingered on my lips. I pulled her close to me and while my c.o.c.k throbbed my heart ached. There was a pain deep in my chest and I did not want to enter Rhiannon, to be with Rhiannon when this pain was etched on my face. Being with her would be too precious of an experience to taint it with remorse and sadness. The desire was there, but the will was gone, at least for this night.

I pressed against her. For an instant the heat of her body rekindled my want and yes, I could have her, I could take her, but I held back as I'd never held back before. We would be together when it was right and tonight was not the night, at least not for me. I'd never experienced hesitancy before with a naked woman in my arms. I pulled her closer. Her breath was soft on the arm that I clasped around her. My eyes closed. This place was safe and it was where I would stay the night.

Chapter 6.

Rhiannon.

Kiley Kepner's fifteenth birthday party was on a Friday night, and her parents had tented the entire backyard and had managed to get Kelly Clarkson to play at the party. After the party I was staying overnight with Amanda instead of returning to Malibu. Staying at the Legend's home was easier than Mama or Papa coming all the way from the ranch to pick me up and then us driving back late at night. The roads were twisty and tight and while Mama was a good driver, it was a long way. I often stayed with the Legends during the week. Mama and Joanne were like sisters and I treated the Legend home as if it were mine.

The yelling began around five a.m., or that's when I woke in Amanda's room. Amanda lay in her bed, her blanket pulled up over her nose and her eyes scrunched closed. She was not asleep. How could she sleep with the angry sounds coming from the living room? I could not make out the exact words hurled between her parents, but the loud shouts, the slamming of doors, the pounding of fists were unmistakable. It went on and on and on.

”Are you okay?”

She turned her face toward me. Her cheeks were soaked with tears. ”This is all my fault.”

”My parents argue, too,” I said. Not like this, though. Not with the screaming and the pounding. My words were a meager attempt to soothe my dear friend. ”It's not your fault.”

Amanda pressed her eyes closed again. ”But it is. I told Mom about-”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

”Amanda?” The rough voice on the other side of the door became softer. ”Amanda, come downstairs now.”

Amanda s.h.i.+vered beside me. ”Please come with me, I can't go downstairs alone.” Fear gripped her.

I followed Amanda through the hall toward the staircase. The walls were decorated with pictures of Steve Legend beside a vast array of stars and directors. We padded down the steps and stopped just inside the living room. Joanne sat on the couch in a bright blue dressing gown. Her thick black hair tumbled about her shoulders. She was spectacular to look at with her fair skin and bright blue eyes. I'd known her forever and treated her as a second mother and still, her beauty could steal my breath. This morning her eyes were red-rimmed and blotches decorated her fair skin.

The bitter smell of liquor hung in the room. Amanda grabbed my hand and pressed her fingers tight in mine.

”Amanda, tell me what you told your mother,” Steve said. His voice was thick and his limbs loose. He reached out and held onto the long dark mahogany wood bar to steady himself.

Amanda's bottom lip trembled. Her mouth dropped open in shock, and her eyes flicked from her mother to her father. ”I ... I ... Mommy, why? I can't-”

”Tell him,” Joanne said. Her chin jutted out and her eyes, red from crying, were filled with anger. She looked from Amanda to Steve.

Amanda looked down. She reached up and wiped the tears from under her eyes and her shoulders bounced with her quiet sobs.

”Tell me!” Steve yelled. He took two steps toward Amanda. I looked up and my gaze locked onto his. He halted and took a step back. What might he have done to Amanda had I not been standing beside her?

”I ... I ...” Amanda whispered. She pulled in a deep breath and looked up. ”I saw you with Anita.”

”Lies!” Steve waved his hand. ”You lie to your mother and to me!”

”What cause does she have to lie?” Joanne asked. ”Why? To see her family destroyed? To see her mother die a thousand deaths caused by the humiliation of her father? Why, Steve? Why would our girl ever make up such a horrible thing?” Joanne stood. She walked to Amanda's side and placed her arm around Amanda's shoulder. ”Besides, it's not as if it's the first time.”

”You b.i.t.c.h!” The gla.s.s full of bourbon crashed against the wall. Golden drips of liquor slid down the cream paint.

”What's going on?” I turned toward the voice. Sterling stood s.h.i.+rtless and in sweatpants. His black hair stuck out at wild angles. He rubbed his hand over his face. His gaze caught mine and then he turned his eyes toward his warring parents.

”Your father was just leaving,” Joanne said.

”Not this again,” Sterling said.

”Like h.e.l.l, I am,” Steve said. His voice lower and thicker.

”Like h.e.l.l you are,” Joanne said. ”Get out or I call the police.”

”You wouldn't dare,” Steve said. ”What, and ruin your perfect American family facade?” Steve reached for another gla.s.s and the bottle of bourbon. ”You're such a b.i.t.c.h, Joanne, all you care about is the money and the image and you're raising two children to be just like you.”

Joanne stiffened. She turned to me. ”Rhiannon, go upstairs with Amanda. Lock the bedroom door and call your mother. Tell her that Sterling and Amanda are coming to your house for a while.” Joanne's bright blue-eyed gaze left my face and she turned toward Steve. ”Tell your mother that she was always right about Steve and now, finally, he is moving out.”

Amanda's sobs broke through. The tears of a broken heart. A broken heart from a broken family of which she thought she had been the cause.

”Mom-” Sterling's voice held a plea.

”Go. All three of you.” Joanne's gaze landed on me. ”Go call your mother, now.” I nodded my head and grasped my hand around Amanda's shoulder and steered her toward the stairs. My body felt the presence of Sterling behind us.

”Don't take one step toward them, Steven,” Joanne said. Her voice was strong and firm. ”They are going to Gayle and Tom's until you get your things and get out.”

”You can't stop me from seeing my children,” Steve said. His voice was low, but pitted with a threat.

”Watch me. If you want to bed every piece of trash with a p.u.s.s.y between their legs, then you won't be spending time with my children.”

My eyes fluttered open. Bright sunlight and the scent of fresh coffee greeted me. The bed was cold from where Sterling had been. I sat up and pulled the sheet around my body. Across the open room of the guesthouse, Sterling stood s.h.i.+rtless and poured coffee into a cup. While he had Joanne's sharp blue eyes, sharp-cut features, and black hair, his skin color was more like his father's-a bit darker than his sister's. I drank in the splendor of his muscular body.