Too Beautiful to Break Page 13

  Those had been the imaginings of a lonely teenager. Even now she couldn’t think of the pop star without imagining him in a mock turtleneck and too much hair gel, because that’s how he’d been immortalized in her mind. He’d never been a man to her, while Belmont…

  Sweet heaven.

  He’d showered and shaved, dressed himself in dark, loose jeans and a slate-colored button-down shirt. His unbuttoned coat flared out behind him as he closed the distance between her and the Suburban. And yes, there it was, that falter in his rangy-hipped stride. He stopped at the edge of the steps and raked a hand down over the bottom of his face, sending thrill after thrill down her legs, curling the toes in her shoes.

  Yes, those shoes. The reddish-brown ones with the buckle.

  She’d packed one daring outfit for the road trip. One. And she’d never expected to actually wear it. The midnight blue dress and black stockings wouldn’t have been considered provocative to most women. Peggy would even call it conservative. But the neckline plunged lower than anything in Sage’s closet—or suitcase, as it were—and the bodice clung. Tight. It was a thin sweater material with a tight herringbone pattern that you couldn’t really see unless you were up close.

  Did she plan to let Belmont get up close?

  She didn’t know yet. There was an almost imperceptible line between what was right between them and what her sixth sense classified as too much. Something harmful disguised as the greatest feeling in the world. So she would wait and see. And pray he didn’t overwhelm her into falling back into old habits. God knew resisting the man who’d burrowed himself down deep in her heart was getting harder by the minute.

  “You wore the shoes,” he rumbled.

  Especially when he noticed everything. Everything.

  “Yes.”

  A muscle shifted in his cheek. “You wore that with them.”

  Don’t tug on the hem. It can’t go any lower. “I did.”

  Feeling a little like they were performing the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet, Sage started to descend the stairs, but Belmont held up a hand. “Wait.” He moved up to her level, leaned down to take a long whiff of her hair…then he breezed past, knocking on her door.

  Sage spun around so fast she almost planted on her backside. “W-what are you doing?”

  Her father answered the knock, an eyebrow lifted in inquiry. Rightly so. It wasn’t very often someone knocked on her parents’ door. She doubted that fact had changed since she’d been in California. When she’d said her good-byes and walked outside to wait for Belmont on the porch, she could tell her father had been waiting for her to leave so he could pour his first drink of the night. He’d had the shakes and his right hand still trembled, all the way to connecting with Belmont’s offered hand.

  No words were exchanged, just an understanding passing between two men. Maybe she wasn’t meant to fully grasp the meaning there. As far as how it affected her, watching the show of respect Belmont paid her father…she would never be able to adequately describe it. Pressure pushed out from all sides in her chest, and whether or not it was warranted, there was no denying the twinkle of pride she experienced. In herself. She was back in this town where she’d never been looked on with anything but pity or disdain, and with that one handshake, a tiny part of what had always been withheld was restored.

  The same happened again when Belmont opened the passenger side door for her a moment later and helped her up, nodding through the windshield at her shell-shocked father as they reversed down toward the road.

  “Thank you for that,” Sage said around the golf ball in her throat, laying a hand on top of his on the steering wheel. “I’ve decided we have to call this an official date now that you’ve shaken my daddy’s hand. I don’t know if there’s a dating rule book, but if there is, that’s probably on the first page.”

  Before he turned out onto the main road, Belmont leaned down and rubbed his smooth cheek over the backs of her knuckles. “What else is in this book?”

  “Hmmm.” She took her hand back and tucked it into her lap, praying his warmth would linger. “I’ve made something of a study of this with my couples. When they come in for their consultation, I like to ask them where they went on their first date.” She could feel how anxious he was for her to keep going, which helped assure Sage she wasn’t rambling, thanks to her nerves. Or maybe she was and he simply didn’t mind. “The most common answer is they met online and planned a coffee date in a controlled environment. Both of them always have friends on speed dial, just in case it goes south. There’s no…risk involved.” She gave in and tugged on the hem of her dress. “None of the women ever took a man to their old high school on the first date. But for some reason…it seems perfectly typical for us.”

  “Maybe we have our own typical.” His attention swung in her direction. “The high school. Is that where you’re taking me?”

  She slid him a smile. “You’re the one driving.”

  “That may be, but you’re in control.” His gaze dipped to her feet and climbed up to her knees, before cutting away. “I go on your word tonight, Sage.”

  The flesh he’d stroked last night tingled between her legs. Without thinking, she crossed them and almost moaned at the rasp of nylon. Holding himself back physically from her was difficult for him—the lines around his mouth and eyes spoke volumes—but there was no denying the bliss of having a man so powerful in check. Knowing he was waiting, hoping, for a green light. “Drive straight through town. It’s about half a mile past it on the right.”

  Belmont gave a nod and they drove the remaining distance in silence, Sage watching familiar storefronts and faces pass by outside the window. In her youth, she’d loathed coming to the shops, especially alone. Three times a week, she would be sent to the deli to buy cigarettes for her father and the sympathy that would pour off everyone as she crossed the road, little black plastic bag in hand, would crawl over her skin like snails.

  When they reached the high school, the parking lot was empty, except for patches of ice and garbage dancing in the wind. Twilight had fallen, outlining the two-story limestone building in a blue that reminded her of Belmont’s eyes. She thought they were just going to sit in the car, giving her a chance to ask him for another secret, but he surprised her by exiting the car and rounding to the passenger side. He opened the door and held out a hand, which she simply took, warmth spearing straight up to her shoulder.

  “Show me around,” he murmured, stepping back so their bodies wouldn’t brush as she climbed out of the Suburban. “Show me where you ate lunch. Show me anything.”

  The sound of her heels clunking on the asphalt made the moment surreal. It seemed like yesterday when she walked the same route, her knockoff Vans squeaking with every step. Keeping hold of Belmont’s hand, she brought him around back of the main building, spying the corrugated metal overhead that shaded the outdoor lunch tables in the afternoon. She led him over and dipped her chin to indicate the far left table. “There. I sat there most of the time. The cafeteria was too…crowded.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I know what you mean.”

  Sage scanned the grounds, her gaze snagging on the gymnasium. “There would be a pep rally in there every Friday before the football game.” If she listened closely, Sage thought she could hear the stomping of the feet, the shrill whistles coming from the bleachers. “I used to love them, even though I wouldn’t attend any of the games.”

  “Why did you love them?”

  “Because everyone was looking at the team and the cheerleaders. No one bothered with the people in the stands, so I could just hide inside the noise and watch.” Belmont started leading her toward the gymnasium and she followed. “And I loved the promise of the rallies. No one had won or lost yet. There was only optimism. Just like weddings. It’s all the good and none of the bad.” She peered through the cool nighttime at Belmont. “Does that make sense?”

  “Yes.” They stopped at the gymnasium door, each of them leaning in to look through the vertic
al rectangle of glass. “I wish I could see you. Smiling in the stands.”

  In San Diego, she wouldn’t have even tried the door to see if it was open, but they were in small-town Louisiana, so reaching out and trying the handle was a no-brainer. The teeth of the lock clicked and the rusty metal door groaned open several inches. But it rattled to a halt, revealing the chains keeping the gym off limits from the inside. “Bummer,” she muttered. “Kids were probably sneaking in at night to make out.”

  “Wait here.”

  Before she could ask his intention, Belmont stalked off the way they’d come, back toward the car. She heard the Suburban door slam a minute later and his tall form was returning…holding a pair of bolt cutters down by his side. “Belmont, you can’t just…”

  Despite her protest, there was a long squeeze of excitement in her belly when Belmont casually inserted the bolt cutter through the opening and snapped the chains in half. Using his big booted foot, he kicked the door open, sending the chains skittering across the wood floor…

  Then he turned and winked at her.

  And suddenly, it was clear as glass she was giving herself to Belmont that night. She would find a way to make it good and right. If she didn’t seize this magical moment with this phenomenal man, she would regret it until the day she died.

  He swept a hand toward the door and bowed, that touch of uncharacteristic smugness still in place, indicating she should precede him inside. “Arrested for trespassing.” Pursing her lips, she stepped inside and over the pile of chains. “That’s another story I haven’t heard for a first date.”

  “Does coffee and speed dial appeal to you more?” he asked, following her into the gym, dark except for the glowing red exit signs.

  “It sounds awful, actually. I’m always waiting for someone to tell me they were kidnapped by pirates,” Sage answered, stopping at the edge of the basketball court. “Or maybe they got locked in the public library together overnight and fell in love over their mutual appreciation of encyclopedias.”

  Belmont picked up her hand and sighed right into the sensitive palm. “Don’t hold your breath on that one, Sage.”

  A laugh tickled up her throat. “Isn’t it silly? There’s no one here to stop me and I still feel like I need permission to walk out into the middle of the court—”

  Sage yipped as Belmont lifted her into his arms and strode forward, stopping when they reached the half court line, right over the Sibley High School logo. She threw back her head, resting it on his bicep as he turned in a slow circle, giving her a 180-degree view of the room. Just as fast as he’d scooped her up, though, Belmont sighed and set her down. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” He stepped back, rubbing his thumb over the crease of his chin. Back and forth, back and forth. “It hasn’t been easy to break the habit of picking you up.”

  “It’s okay,” Sage managed through her closing throat. “Belmont.” She reached out for his hands and pulled him back closer, laying his palms on her cheeks and saying the first things that came to mind. “Don’t apologize for doing something you thought was good and helpful. I’m glad we’re here together. Doing this.”

  His voice was murky. “Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  It took them five minutes to get back to the semi-easy place where they’d been existing. But easy was different this time. It took Sage breathing against his thumbs where they framed her face. It took Belmont syncing his own inhales and exhales with hers. The routine was familiar, this place they would go where silence reigned and they just swayed, swayed together, trying to hear each other’s heartbeats. Trying to forget there was an outside world with pressures and problems. But the routine had shifted out of necessity since she’d left him standing on the train station platform. It was less about absorbing the weight of each other and more about…learning to exist inside their own weight…together.

  The buzz of the exit signs, the melting snow dripping from outside trees onto the gymnasium roof, joined with their steady breaths. And somewhere along the line, they began dancing, although Sage couldn’t pinpoint when the slow circles started. Only knew she was facing the door one minute, bleachers the next. Belmont’s hands were still curved around her cheeks, so she took his left one and slowly laid it on her hip, twining their fingers together with the other.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There were too many things to concentrate on at once and all of them were incredible. He had to keep his feet moving at the right tempo, because he was dancing with Sage. His hand itched to squeeze her hip. Same with his other one where she’d captured him with graceful fingers. But he kept his breathing even, swayed her and prayed for a sign that she wanted…just wanted. Like he did.

  Belmont’s eye muscles started to twinge from closing his eyes so tight, so he forced himself to let go of the tension, his lids remaining hooded. He could only see the curling flyaway hairs over her right ear this way, but he wouldn’t be greedy. Their bodies were still a good few inches apart, and Lord knew, the effort it cost him to remain composed had started a blinding ache down in the center of his abdomen.

  Her sweet scent had slipped into his bloodstream like a drug, setting off a potent chemical reaction that didn’t know how to be satisfied. It knew what appeasement felt like. That careful balance he found when Sage gave it to him. The ability to exist inside his own skin. Relief was something else entirely. It was disrespectful to think of Sage the way his brain threatened to do. Pumping bodies, open mouths, bare legs. Was he beyond resisting those images now? Christ, it seemed he might be.

  So he focused on their gripped hands, the cadence of her breath. “When we walked in here, I wanted…” He ground his back teeth when she moved closer, the tips of her breasts pressing into his stomach. “I wanted to give you a dance. Since you’d never been to one.”

  “Not here, no. Thank you.” Sage’s voice was thready, but he resisted the urge to pull back and study her face, in case he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. “There is an instructor I hire to teach my brides and grooms how to dance, though. She taught me a little.”

  His mouth curved. If Sage was being taught something, her forehead would wrinkle, her tongue poking out to the left. He imagined that’s how she looked while learning dance steps. “I can tell you’ve been taught,” he murmured. “You’re doing great.”

  “Liar,” she breathed. “This…this is nothing like dancing with another woman.”

  “Good.” His hand tightened on her hip and he gave a mental curse. “This is nothing like anything else. For me.”

  Then he had no choice but to look Sage in the eye, because that was what she wanted. She tilted her head and gave him a dose of hazel. “I’ve shown you this place,” she whispered. “Can I ask you something now?”

  A crank turned in his middle. He wanted to give her an unequivocal yes, but in the state of arousal she’d put him in, he didn’t know if there was room for him to concentrate on anything else. Apart from maintaining a careful distance, giving her the dance, breathing. “I think so,” he said in a rush. “Ask me.”

  Her eyes traveled over Belmont’s face, making him wonder what she saw. “Why haven’t you been with a woman, Belmont?”

  No. Lord, no. This he couldn’t handle. He couldn’t talk candidly about sex with the woman who’d inspired his starvation and given it a name. “Sage, can you ask me something else?” His cock tented the leg of his pants, hard and thick, so he tilted his lower body away. “Anything else.”

  “No.” She released their joined hands and settled her palm on Belmont’s chest, tracing it down, down over his heaving stomach, where it paused. “It’s something I need to know right now. If we’re going to lie with each other—”

  Lie with each other. Belmont surged forward, his rope fraying so dramatically that one single string remained. That string was what kept his arms down at his sides, even while he locked the curves of their necks together. Even while he stopped attempting to hide his erection. “I don’t like being vulnerable,” he
started, his mouth dry. “I’ve seen…things. Videos. And I know they’re acting, but to let yourself be that way in front of another person…that means trusting them.” He opened his mouth on her skin, his tongue aching to lick the cords of her neck. “I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust you. Not while wanting at the same time. And want…want isn’t the right word for this feeling inside me, Sage.”

  “What is the right word?”

  “Famine,” he ground out. “I’ve been in a famine.”

  It wasn’t right to hand over his pain to Sage again. Again. It was like he couldn’t stop, though. She was the only one who understood. And when her right hand traveled down over his belt buckle, her featherlight touch grazing his bulge, Belmont froze, his pulse turning up several octaves in his ears, his blood catching fire. The reassurances he wanted to give her remained trapped in his mouth, even as his mind demanded he issue them. You don’t have to. I’ll be fine. The words wouldn’t come out.

  “You’ve waited until you could trust someone. Me.” Sage whispered into his hair, the pressure of her hand increasing, her grip shifting until her palm conformed to his straining flesh. “Do you trust me to touch you here?”

  “Anywhere,” Belmont rasped.

  Filling his lungs through a straw, Belmont drove his fingers into Sage’s hair and stared down between their bodies, watching as she fondled him through his pants. “My own hand would have been second best. I wanted to wait for yours.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Despite the cold of the gymnasium, sweat beaded on his upper lip and he ached to be free of his clothes, exposed to anything and everything, as long as Sage’s hand was warming that thick, heavy part of him. His grunts were agonized and harsh, but he couldn’t stem their flow, at least not until she started to unfasten his pants. Then he went silent, save his roughened breath. He was very aware that Sage was seeing a man’s cock for the first time, so he focused on her face, scrutinizing the play of reactions there. The concentration, the shyness, the lack of confidence—