Longing for Her Read online

  Mistake.

  Longing like I’d never known reached out from his eyes and froze me in place. My breath caught. Nipples pebbled beneath my thin shirt.

  Every muscle in my body quivered as he stood and walked toward me, unwavering gaze on my face.

  “What—” I licked my lips, hating how my voice wavered. “What are you doing?”

  “Give me the whiskey.”

  My pulse thrummed with life, and I put the glass in his outstretched hand.

  He set it on the coffee table without breaking eye contact and leaned down, placing his hands against the back of the couch on either side of me, making an effective cage. His face hovered mere inches from mine.

  I breathed in as he exhaled, the subtle scent of peppermint flooding my mouth with saliva. His lower lip called out to my teeth; the shadow lining his jaw begged for my tongue.

  “Did you mean what you said about once being enough, Gwen? Because it’s not for me. I want to taste every inch of your skin. Bury myself inside you.”

  My breath caught, and moisture flooded my panties, making me squirm on the cushion.

  I opened my mouth, having no idea what words would tumble out, but he swooped down, capturing my parted lips before I could speak.

  Blessed Mary, mother of God.

  His tongue swept inside against mine. Moaning into his mouth, I grabbed the sides of his head.

  Cole sank to his knees before me, and I moved forward with him, refusing to release my hold on his hair or tongue. When his hands slid down my back to cup my ass, I untangled my legs to either side of him and allowed him to tug me forward.

  My shirt inched up above my thighs, and he released his bruising grip on my ass. Hands spanning my waist, he spread his thumbs across the top of my hip bones. Down the insides of my thighs. Along the edges of my panties.

  Whimpering, I tilted upward, desperate.

  One thumb slipped beneath and trailed down through my wet folds. The other drifted across the silky material separating my clit from his touch.

  I bucked, losing my hold on his mouth as I gasped for air.

  So fucking close…

  “Shit.” Cole released me and stood, hands fisted at his sides, his gaze on the other side of the room.

  Dread slid down my spine, and I knew…just knew who had joined us.

  “I thought you left hours ago, Son.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I buried my head in my hands, eyes clenched shut as Mr. Risso’s cold voice filled the suddenly tiny room.

  Cole remained silent.

  Panic-widened eyes met mine when I lifted my head.

  “Ercole?” his father questioned again.

  I hopped off the couch and brushed against Cole’s rigid body before striding across the room. Mr. Risso’s furrowed brow and flashing dark eyes drove a nail through my heart. Without pause, I mumbled an apology and slipped up the steps, cursing myself the entire way.

  Cole

  Even after Gwen disappeared, Papa stared at me. Waiting for an explanation.

  I didn’t have one, other than desire for her dictated my actions. Definitely not something he’d want to hear. Like a fucking coward, I averted my gaze, running a hand through my hair.

  “This won’t happen again, Ercole.”

  I shook my head, refusing to promise—or look him in the eye—and I hated myself for it.

  “Go home. Your sister is getting married to a prominent, upstanding young man in less than twelve hours.”

  A streak of rebellion rose, and Zane’s voice telling me I could have what I wanted rang in my ears. My hands fisted at my sides. I struggled to voice what I felt. What I longed for.

  Another glance at Papa’s stern stare and thinned lips, and I caved to the instruction I’d been fed since childhood—honor thy father and thy mother.

  Focus on the floor, I cursed myself with each breath. “Yes, sir.”

  He moved to the side as I approached, but grasped my arm, keeping me from fleeing as Gwen had done. “I expect better from you. For you. Understand?”

  I dipped my head and mumbled another, “Yes, sir.”

  “Do I need to call you a cab?”

  “Only had half a beer, Papa.”

  The instant he released his grip, I trudged up to the kitchen. The scent of Gwen’s arousal clung to my nose, and I glanced up the empty winding stairs to the second floor while striding across the entryway.

  Heaviness crushed my chest as I scrubbed a hand across my face.

  Another curse slipped from my lips as I shut the front door behind me and stepped into the night.

  Gwen

  A glutton for punishment, I had to listen in.

  Mistake number two.

  I’d always known I wasn’t good enough for Cole, but hearing his father all but say it out loud…

  Tears streamed down my cheeks as I sprinted upstairs before Cole could see me. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep quiet while sneaking back into Lia’s room. She rolled over but didn’t wake as I slid under the covers.

  My stomach churned. Throat ached.

  I never should have gone downstairs. Never should have told the truth and gave Cole the green light. But, oh…the taste of his mouth. How his fingertips alone brought me close to shattering. I swallowed down a moan, wishing I was in the privacy of my own bedroom where I’d give Mr. Wonderful another chance at rocking my world.

  A growl of frustration simmered in my throat, mixing with a groan of pent-up sexual exasperation. I knew morning would bring a bag-eyed maid of honor. A fake smile, plastered on for the world, would get me through the day.

  One last day.

  Lia would take Ryan’s last name, and the rest of the Risso family would be a part of my past.

  Forever.

  Cole

  The tires chirped as I downshifted and turned the corner out of my parents’ neighborhood.

  Fucking pansy.

  I slammed my fist against the leather-wrapped steering wheel. Why the fuck didn’t I stand up to him? Why didn’t I have the balls to tell him exactly what I thought of his manipulation and expectations?

  I prayed to God Gwen didn’t overhear the last bit of our conversation. She’d never speak to me—or anyone in the family but Lia—ever again.

  I can’t live with that.

  Twenty minutes later, the motion sensor at my driveway’s end triggered the floodlight above my garage, and a click of the button sent the door rolling up.

  After securing my Jag for the night, I walked into the kitchen and tossed my keys on the island, glancing around at the immaculate marble countertops and gleaming stainless steel. A dozen steps brought me in view of the formal dining area and sitting room.

  My shoulders sagged as I exhaled a loud breath in the tomb-like silence.

  I had the latest technology. A kick-ass ride. The type of house people drove by wondering what celebrity lived there. Stocks. A retirement fund people would kill for.

  Rubbing the back of my neck, I admitted the truth to myself. For over thirty years, I’d bowed down to my parents and their desires for my life without questioning if they really knew what was best for me. Easy to do as a kid, but as an adult I stood to lose a substantial amount by bucking Papa’s wishes. I didn’t stand up to him out of fear—fear of losing everything I owned, just like Zane had said.

  Did I give a shit about having a secure future? I sure as hell used to. Gazing around at my house again, loneliness slammed into me. Without Gwen, all the worldly possessions in the world meant nothing.

  “Enough.” The declaration spoken out loud straightened my shoulders as my inner temperature rose. Let Papa strip me of everything. With an outstanding college education and great resume, I wouldn’t have difficulty finding another job. If needed, I’d move to New Hampshire and live in a shack.

  As long as I had Gwen, I wouldn’t need much more.

  Feeling as though a weight had lifted off my back, my footsteps echoed in the house as I marched up the staircase and ripped off my tie, lett
ing it flutter to the entryway below. Lia’s wedding day wasn’t the place to have a family showdown, but I couldn’t go another day without Gwen in my life. I admired her ability to speak exactly what she thought. It was time for me to grow a pair and do the same.

  No matter what Papa said or did, I planned on stealing Gwen away at the end of the night and never letting her go.

  Gwen

  Lia handed me a cup of coffee and leaned back against the kitchen island, her red Victoria’s Secret robe wrapped tight. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Horrible.” The word tumbled out before I thought to keep the conversation light on her wedding day. I sipped and sighed, wishing the coffee could erase the dark circles I expected sagged beneath my eyes.

  Lia peered at me over the rim of her mug, her eyes thoughtful. Weighing, with her “what are you hiding” look.

  Shit.

  “I see the way he looks at you and how you pretend he doesn’t exist.”

  I focused on the steam rising from the mug clasped below my nose. “What are you talking about?”

  “Cole.”

  A quick glance around confirmed we were alone, but I didn’t know what to say.

  Lia smiled at me, her eyes twinkling. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a thing for each other?”

  “We don’t.”

  “Bullshit. He’s miserable as hell and pining like a girl. What happened?”

  Shrugging a shoulder, I hoped the knot of anxiety in my stomach didn’t show on my face. “Nothing.”

  Lia leaned toward me, her smirk still in place. “Maybe it needs to.”

  “I’m not good enough for your brother.”

  She snorted. “Bullshit again. Of course you’re good enough.”

  I peered into the mug for a minute before glancing back up. “Your papa wants more for him. Trust me.”

  Her lips pursed as she studied me.

  Hot liquid burned its way to my stomach as I swigged and shifted on my feet.

  “Although he growls like a bear,” Lia finally said, “deep down Papa wants us all to be happy. He loves you like a daughter, Gwen. What makes you think he doesn’t believe you’re good enough for Cole?”

  Because I heard him say it.

  I shrugged again, but didn’t open my mouth as the sound of shuffling feet met my ears. My body tightened, and I prayed it wasn’t her father.

  “Coffee’s ready, Mom!” Lia’s cheery greeting loosened the tension in my body.

  Mrs. Risso ambled into the kitchen, her hand covering a yawn. Graying red hair looped in a knot on the top of her head, but her pale skin showed no signs of wrinkles. “Good morning, sweetheart.” She grasped Lia’s upper arms and kissed her right cheek, then the left. “You look well rested. I was afraid your little sleepover might hinder you getting enough beauty sleep for today.”

  “Nope. Fell asleep immediately and slept like a rock.”

  Lucky bitch.

  Lia’s mom angled toward me while pouring herself a cup of coffee. “It’s so nice having you here with us, Gwen. We’ve missed you.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Risso,” I mumbled into my mug.

  She dumped two spoons of sugar into her coffee while yawning again. “What time is the limo coming to take you to the salon?”

  “Eight,” Lia all but trilled.

  Head beginning to ache, I rolled my eyes. I’d never heard—or seen—my best friend so bright-eyed and ready to face the world first thing in the morning. “Guess I’ll go hop in the shower.” I turned to go, the back of my head tingling under the weight of what had to be her stare.

  And hopefully hide out long enough so I don’t have to face your father.

  ****

  I climbed into the limo behind Lia, thankful beyond words that I didn’t run into Mr. Risso on the way out. There would have been no masking my discomfort, and the last thing I needed was Lia upset on her wedding day.

  While she chatted like a magpie, I smiled and sipped champagne. Bubbly at eight in the morning—God knew I’d need all the liquid courage I could get my paws on to get through the day looming ahead.

  We made seven more stops to pick up the rest of the giggling gaggle, and my head wanted to split open. A feigned smile might have fooled the other bridesmaids, but Lia glanced my way with concern—and curiosity—etching her brow more than once.

  At least the day’s schedule would keep us from having another private moment where she could grill me for answers.

  We spent over four hours at the salon, and with makeup plastered on our faces, and hair curled, coiffed, and in my case, spiked, the limo delivered us to the Risso’s to dress and pick at a catered luncheon. I overindulged on the shrimp cocktail while sipping on another glass of sparkly to drive off the butterflies flitting around my stomach.

  Thankfully, it was women only—except for the photographer and his assistant who weaved around and between us, snapping candid shots.

  Red tulle puffed around each bridesmaid’s dress, compliments of the wedding planner’s insistence it was the latest craze in the fashion world.

  Whatever.

  Another strapless bra bound me like a straightjacket, and I knew there was no way in hell I’d be smiling come ceremony time.

  After an hour of shuffling about the backyard and marble staircase for pictures, we stuffed ourselves and dresses into the limo once more for Lia’s final car ride as Miss Risso.

  We hadn’t even made it to the highway before Renea lifted her bubbly, squealing out a half-drunken toast to Lia and the night ahead. Another girl chimed in seconds later, wishing Ryan stamina.

  Tears threatened to choke the breath from me, but I raised my glass, the muscles around my upturned lips aching. Toast after toast relaxed me in the leather seat even though giggles pierced my ears. As long as I kept my buzz going, I could get through the night.

  Then Lia will be gone for a month-long tour of Europe, and I can bawl my eyes out.

  Cole

  The string quartet started in on Telemann’s double violin concerto, and the doors at the back of the church opened. The first bridesmaid, grinning like a drunken fool, glided down the aisle. Another followed. By the time the sixth woman sashayed toward us men lined beside Ryan, my pulse thrummed.

  Papa had ignored me since arriving at the church, which was fine by me. Come reception time, however, I expected he wouldn’t be able to hold his temper in check, because I planned on wrapping my arms around Gwen’s tiny waist and breathing in her strawberry scent.

  She stepped into view, and my throat dried.

  While the red dress clashed with her short, messy hair, makeup had been painted on her normally bare face, creating a porcelain doll with perfect features—and she’d removed her lip ring. Hazel eyes accented by cosmetics lit on me for half a second before flitting away as a flush heightened her color. She raised her chin, but the hurt I had glimpsed on her face clenched my jaw.

  She overheard Papa.

  “Relax, man,” Zane mumbled beside me.

  The wedding march began, and I tore my focus from Gwen.

  In a white beaded gown, Lia shone like a star. Hair hung down over her shoulders and curled, a vibrant glow on her face as she stared at Ryan.

  I glanced over at my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His heavy-lidded eyes drinking in my sister, full of adoration and a whole lot of lust.

  While I’d been hesitant to like the man when Lia first brought him to a family dinner, it didn’t take long for Ryan to earn my trust and respect. Suave and, according to him, a womanizer prior to meeting Lia, since being with her, he’d shown more consideration to her thoughts and feelings than her ex-fiancé ever did. Always touching in some way, leaning toward the other as though connected by an invisible rope of energy, they shared what Papa and Mom did. Something rare, something I desired more than riches and prestige.

  My gaze found Gwen again. Eyes damp, she glanced between the bride and groom, a wistful smile on her lips.

  I had to find a way to make her realize she meant more
to me than Papa’s approval.

  Feet in a wide stance, hands clasped behind my back, I angled with the rest of the men to witness my sister pledge her life and love to Ryan Walsh.

  Voices droned in my ears as my mind considered a plan.

  When Ryan pulled Lia tight against him and kissed her until chuckles and catcalls rose from the wedding party, I realized exactly what I needed to do.

  ****

  Twice during pictures, the bridesmaid I escorted stood beside Gwen, with me behind them. Close enough to touch. The second time, unable to help myself, I trailed a fingertip down the back of Gwen’s bare arm.

  She shivered but didn’t turn.

  Determined to squish in next to her, I followed on Gwen’s heels toward the massive limo the wedding party would take to the reception. Triumphant, my entire side touched hers, from shoulder to knee, but my elation faded as she ignored me and chugged champagne.

  Laughter and drunken giggles buzzed in my ears as I breathed deep of the softly scented skin inches from mine. On my other side, Zane elbowed me and hissed my name. I shot him a glare.

  “Lia’s eyeing you,” he said under his breath.

  Our sister peered at me from the back of the limo, one arched brow raised, a smirk lifting her red lips. Bastian sat to her right, staring out the window, straight-faced and hunched.

  Ignoring all three of them, I returned my focus on the woman I longed for day and night.

  All too soon we arrived at the reception hall. Without a glance in my direction, Gwen, Lia, and the other girls left the men in the waiting room and flocked to the bathroom to do a final makeup and hair check. Bass thumped from the adjoining room, promising a good time.

  Wound tight, I grabbed a flute of champagne from the nearest waiter and strode across the room toward Bastian and Zane.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do about her?” Zane asked as I neared.

  Bastian’s hand halted, leaving his drink hovering below his chin. “Her?” He glanced between the two of us. Somewhat shorter than my six-foot-two height and eight years younger, I always felt the need to rub the poor kid’s head.

  I opened my mouth to confess, but Zane beat me to it. “Cole’s got a thing for Gwen.”

  Bastian’s left brow rose along with the side of his lips. “A thing?”