Hurt the One You Love Read online

  She stroked the hair back from his forehead. "Shh. We all have our faults and our flaws and our quirks. But I love you, Elliott.”

  "I don't deserve it, but can you forgive me? Can we try again?"

  His words would also not have made the list of things Simone would've ever expected from Elliott Anderson. Another laughing sob burst out of her, and she kissed him. Over and over, until both of them were breathing hard. She took his hand and put it on her heart. Then slid it lower, over the slope of her breast and the taut, aroused peak of her nipple.

  "What do you think?" She asked.

  "I'm not going to be perfect."

  Simone laughed without crying this time. "Oh, honey. You don't have to tell me that. I can tell you already, we're going to have a few go-arounds about the proper way to load the dishwasher."

  They both laughed, then, and kissed again. Elliott pulled her closer. Held her tighter.

  "I love you, Simone."

  Everything inside her lifted and ignited. She turned inside out. She kissed him again, lingering this time, and looked into his eyes.

  "Yeah," she said, "I know you do."

  Chapter 41

  Three months hadn’t seemed like such a long time, not when every day of it was filled with Elliott. It was an anniversary of a sort, a silly one, but still something to celebrate together. And what better way than with a mushroom and black olive pizza, some good red wine and maybe, just maybe, a little late-night office lovemaking?

  Simone knocked lightly on Elliott’s door, listening for him to say she could enter before she pushed open the door. He was on the phone with Molly when she came inside, she knew it by the way his brow furrowed, but then he laughed and Simone thought maybe it was one of the older woman’s good days. She’d been having a number of them lately. She held up the pizza box and bottle of wine, then settled them onto his desk while she waited for him to finish his call.

  “Molly sends her love,” Elliott said when he disconnected. “I thought we were going out for dinner.”

  “Yeah, that was two hours ago when I thought you might actually get out of here on time.” Simone made a face, though she wasn’t really angry. The charity work Elliott had picked up, volunteering to handle some legal matters for a local women and children’s shelter, was something she never begrudged.

  “Well,” he said after a moment, “I was in the mood for pizza, anyway.”

  Simone gave him a glance over her shoulder. “What else are you in the mood for?”

  Elliott said nothing, but heat gleamed in his eyes as he got up from behind the desk. “Be careful with that pizza, Simone. It might make a mess.”

  “You mean like this?” She said, all mock innocence and purity as she dipped a finger in the sauce and deliberately smeared it on the edge of the desk. “Oops.”

  The heat between them blazed. He moved closer to push her firmly but gently down over the desk, her hands flat on it, her ass in the air. Her skirt rode up a little. She tried to swallow, her throat gone suddenly dry as Elliott pulled the heavy, old-fashioned wooden ruler from the special place on the desk. Her nipples peaked, and she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a little moan, anticipating the moment when he’d pull her skirt up over her thighs and rear and tap that wooden ruler against her flesh, teasing her until she begged him to actually use it.

  But first, something important.

  Breathless, Simone looked over her shoulder at the man she loved more than anything in the world. “Baby,” she said, “do me a favor, first.”

  “Anything,” Elliott said immediately, and she knew he’d move heaven and earth to please her.

  Her heart ached with love for him and everything they’d become. Simone smiled. “Make sure to pull the blinds.”

  Playlist

  Day Old Hate — City and Colour

  Distance — Christina Perri

  I Don’t Want To Fall in Love — She Wants Revenge

  Where Have You Been — Rihanna

  Just Give Me A Reason — Pink

  Hot and Cold — Katy Perry

  Try — Pink

  Bleeding Out — Imagine Dragons

  I don’t Apologize (1000 Pictures) — Otherwise

  The Last Time — Taylor Swift feat. Gary Lightbody

  I could write without music, but I’m so glad I don’t have to. Below is a partial playlist of the songs I listened to while writing Hurt the One You Love. Please support the artists by purchasing their music.

  Unforgivable

  Excerpt

  Flowers whispered in the breeze, and Alice paused for a moment to contemplate which she wanted to kill. The pink roses were gorgeous, soft and velvety petals with bright green leaves. The red blooms, on the other hand, would blend better with the wildflowers she’d already gathered in her basket. What Cookie needed in her garden was purple roses, Alice thought, stroking one flower while she shifted the basket over her arm. Did such a thing even exist?

  “Alice.”

  She didn’t move. Didn’t turn. Didn’t blink or gasp or sigh, though every muscle in her body tensed at the sound of her name. She knew that voice at once, though it had been so, so long since she’d heard it any place but in dreams.

  “Cookie told me you were here.”

  Of course he’d found her on purpose. Of course, she thought with a small and throbbing thump-thump of her heart that she could not pretend she didn’t feel. Lifting her chin, putting on a smile, Alice turned.

  “Mick.” Alice smiled, one hand reaching for his automatically. Out of politeness, she told herself. Not because she wanted to touch him.

  He surprised her when instead of taking it to shake, he drew her close for a hug. Nothing too unusual in that—their group had always been affectionate embracers, hugging on greetings and good-byes and randomly in between. She’d already been squeezed and cuddled a dozen times today by Bernie and Cookie alone, and would expect more to come from the other guests as they arrived. Still, when Mick’s body pressed to hers, Alice found herself melting into his touch as though the years had never passed and nothing bad had ever happened to them.

  It lasted a few seconds, just long enough for her to feel the softness of his breath against her ear and the light press of his fingertips at the small of her back before they were both breaking apart from each other. She with a small, hitching breath. Mick with an embarrassed cough.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said. “You look . . . good.”

  Her brows went up. “That’s the best you can do after all this time?”

  It had been a gamble, guessing he’d respond the way he would’ve back then, but he must not have changed all that much because Mick laughed and took a step back to very clearly look her up and down before letting his gaze settle on hers.

  “You look,” he said, “fan-fucking-tastic.”

  “Better,” Alice told him. “Much better.”

  Silence, a beat of it, then another. But not awkward. They’d had their share of those uncomfortable silences toward the end, struggling to find words that weren’t angry or frustrated or disappointed. It wasn’t like that now. More like they didn’t have to say a word, she thought, and forced herself not to look away from him.

  He’d hardly changed.

  “You too,” she added.

  “Flowers?”

  Alice gestured. “Yeah. Cookie asked me to get some. I can’t decide between the red and the pink.”

  “Red.”

  She gave him a half smile. “You think so?”

  “You think pink roses are a waste.”

  There it was, then. Proof he hadn’t forgotten her. Hadn’t unknown her. For a stupid second tears threatened, burning, and Alice blinked them away.

  “These are pretty, though,” she said.

  Mick shook his head, moving closer to push aside the pink flowers and reveal the red bush planted next to it. “You’re a red-rose kind of girl, Alice. Always were. Ouch, shit.”

  The thorns had pricked him, bringing blood. Mick