Love Is Louder Read online

  He’s not ready, but I am. Doesn’t that matter?

  I have thought about coming off birth control, but I would hate to think that if I did get pregnant, he would ask me to do the unspeakable, and I couldn’t do that. I would leave him then and raise the baby myself.

  My eyes float over the images of a one-month-old infant that I just completed a photo shoot for earlier today. Her name is April, and she’s chubby with pale, porcelain skin, blue eyes, and wisps of blonde hair. I wonder what our baby would look like.

  Would the baby have James’ blue eyes and my brown hair? Would we have a boy or girl first? I’ve already picked out the names if it were to ever happen for us. Tate for a boy and Tessa for a girl.

  I sigh, shoving back the lump slowly rising in my throat. I’ve had moments where I’ve had to run out of the studio during shoots and lock myself in the bathroom so no one would see the tears clouding my eyes behind the lens. I’m strong on the outside. Well, I try to be, but when I see pictures like this with innocent, curious eyes staring back at me, I cannot help but wonder. I want to be a mother. I want to be given that chance.

  I sort through my proofs before I file them away in the bottom right-hand drawer of my desk when my phone jostles me back. I look up at the clock and realize twenty minutes have passed. I retrieve my phone from my purse and smile when I see Ava’s name displayed on the screen. She always calls right before five to get together for our yoga class, but tonight I’m going to have to take a rain check.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, you. What are your plans tonight?”

  “Hey, James and I are supposed to go out for dinner to celebrate our four year wedding anniversary.”

  “Oh, wow. He wants to do dinner and actually spend time with you?”

  “Yes. This is good …”

  “I hope so,” she says with a hint of doubt in her voice.

  I take a deep breath. She knows my troubles and the issue James and I are going through. I want my husband. I want the marriage I envisioned when we got married. Perhaps he didn’t realize what a big responsibility it was taking the district attorney’s position. Did he really think this through? He really didn’t have to take it. He already had a great position right out of law school working for one of the top law firms in New York City.

  “I don’t want to waste any time doubting us anymore. I just need to know if he wants this marriage as much as I do, and tonight is a step in the right direction.”

  And hopefully over time, he will change his mind about having kids.

  Before she can rebut or possibly give me words of encouragement, which I find slim to none, the line beeps with an incoming call. My heart jackhammers when I see James’ image flash on the screen.

  “Hey, it’s James.” A faint breath escapes my lips as my stomach clenches.

  “Oh,” she replies in a flat, lifeless tone.

  In the past, Ava would tell me to say hi to James, but that stopped once things between James and me slowly went downhill. It hurts me in a small way that my husband and my close friend don’t get along anymore.

  “Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” She hesitates and sucks in a breath. “I hope you have a nice time tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You deserve it,” she says before we hang up.

  A tingling sensation runs through me as I click over to the other line.

  Will he pull a last-minute cancellation, telling me that he has a meeting, or will he keep our date?

  This is not a regular dinner date. This means something; at least, it means something to me. James is…well, James. I can’t make him feel or think or believe what I believe. I have to deal with it. Compromise. Suffer? Our marriage is like a frozen lake. Some parts can handle the weight, and others can’t, and you don’t know until you take that step and hear the ice splintering under your feet. You can’t move; you can only hope that someone is there to save you.

  “Hey, hon,”

  “Hey, baby. Are you ready for tonight?” Even though things have been unsettled between us, the sound of his voice still makes me smile.

  “Yes, where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise. Just be ready by seven and wear black. You know how I love you in black.”

  “I already planned on it.” My stomach flutters, feeling the same attraction and anticipation when we first met in college. He’s really trying for us.

  “Good. You always remember. I love that about you.” His voice caresses me, sending a trail of goose bumps down my body. I wish he were here right now, so I could look into his eyes and kiss his soft lips.

  We can fix this. He still wants this.

  I stand in my walk-in closet and appraise myself in the full-length mirror. I’m thinner than usual, thanks to the past few weeks of stress, but the soft lace of my black thong, matching bra, and garters still hug my subtle curves. I blow out a slow breath, debating on what to wear on this warm, humid, June evening. Short, black, strapless dress or long, silk dress with spaghetti straps? James loves my legs and shoulders, so I go with the short, strapless dress. Pulling it from the rack, I hold it up in front of me and close my eyes.

  We can make it work.

  “Brie.”

  His gravelly voice startles me. Whirling around, I steal a breath when I see his heated eyes rake over my body. A burning need bubbles inside me. I itch to touch him, and I itch for him to touch me, but he controls what happens between us, and I eagerly comply. I’ve missed the connection so badly that I’d do anything to repair what we had to how it once was. I want the pressure of our careers to take a backseat so we can enjoy each other again.

  Flashing me a smile, he pulls at his tie, yanking it loose and working the buttons on the front of his shirt, exposing his muscular tanned chest. He closes the space between us in two long strides. With a crooked grin giving his handsome features a devilish look, he takes the dress from my hands, returns it to the rack, and rests his prowling hands upon my hips.

  “God, you...you look so damn good.” His eyes dance with mischief, his smile half-cocked. He tilts my chin with his finger so that our eyes lock and runs the outside of his hand against my cheek. I can already feel his erection poking my belly as I readily press harder against him. I want to be touched by him so badly it feels like madness.

  I don’t want to go out to dinner; I want him to take me right now on the floor in my closet.

  “Yoga does wonders.” I rub my hands down his chest as I peel off his white dress shirt, letting it drop to the floor. This is how it used to be. Spontaneous and hot. I didn’t expect this change in him, but I’m not going to sit here and question it. I have the old James back. I don’t want to take things slowly, but I know I have to. I can’t appear needy and desperate, even though I want us to get through this arduous point in our marriage.

  Is that what created the distance between us? Needing him too much?

  He scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip and pulls me tighter against his body. His gaze on me never breaks. His hands roam down my sides to my waist, my hips, and my thighs as his lips travel from my ear to my neck, leaving a trail of hot wet kisses that make my belly clench and my thighs tighten. I’m breathless and a little dazed by his touch and scent.

  “The reservation is at eight. I would love to show you what you do to me when you wear black.” He smiles that smile that robbed me of my breath six years ago, and that little dimple pops on his right cheek that teases me to kiss it. His usual clean-cut face now has a hint of stubble, and his hair is ruffled and has grown a little bit more, making him appear sexier and casual.

  Is this the first time I’ve noticed this change?

  I can’t remember because it’s been a while since we spent real time together. I’m guilty of Googling” the signs that your spouse is cheating, “and one of the red flags is they change their appearance to please their new love interest, the one that has stolen their affections.

  Stop! He’s taken on more cases
at the office. He just doesn’t have time. That’s all it is. Enjoy yourself. Live in the moment.

  I tug on his hair and meet his gaze, swatting all my insecurities and assumptions out of my mind and inhale his clean, musky cologne-tinged scent.

  “What is it that I do to you?” I taunt, as the rapid beating of my heart drowns out everything except the sound of his voice.

  “Let me show you what I can do to you.” His whisper stirs my hair and tickles my ear, sending chills racing over my skin. His lips slide to my chin, then slowly along my jaw, licking my neck with a deep moan of hunger. He moves his body so that his cock is pressed against my stomach. I’m suddenly weakened by his touch and the edge in his voice. I will relinquish control of my body to him as long as he sees fit. “I’ve been hard all day thinking about you like this. Do you know how impossible it is to work this way?”

  I can’t form words. I just nod adamantly as his hot lips caress my skin.

  Backing me up against the wall, he takes me by the wrists and places them over my head, trapping them with his one hand. He moves his other hand up my thigh, and then his palm is on my ass, teasing at the lace of my thong with his fingers, trailing them along the edge, knowing the path around my body. Inch by inch my skin comes alive, as his hands and mouth claim me. He dips his thumb under my thong and then edges closer to my molten core, his teasing making me more insane and desperate for him. He slips his hand between my legs, sliding a finger through my slick flesh. My eyes close as a wave of sparks shoot though my body like a firecracker. My focus pinpointed on his contact.

  “Oh, shit. So fucking wet, Brie,” he whispers into my ear. He responds by pressing his taut body harder against mine, freeing my hands so they fall limply to my side. His eyes flare, dazzling now with his lust.

  My whole body pulses for him, my blood thrumming through my veins. I grab the back of his neck, forcing our mouths harder together. Feeling my tongue, he opens his lips to allow me in, and we kiss earnestly. His mouth consumes me, taking my space, leaving behind nothing but desire.

  He cups my ass, hoisting me up with his powerful arms. I wrap my legs around his waist. He brings up his hand and pinches one of my hard nipples through the lace, causing me to arch my back into him.

  “God, your tits are beautiful.”

  My nipples pebble and throb, heavier than they’ve ever been. His finger feathers over my breasts before he yanks down my bra, exposing my breasts to him. Taking my aching nipples into his mouth one at a time, he licks and sucks each one as I pull his hair. I cry out at the hot suction on my breast followed by his warm breath and the scrape of his teeth. My body is flushed, acutely sensitive and feverish.

  “James, I need you inside me.”

  He responds with a groan, his mouth wet and hot on my other breast, his tongue licking and flicking, his lips gliding over my scorching skin. His breath over the wet flesh of my nipples gives me gooseflesh, my skin electric from the way he tantalizes me. He stops kissing me, his lips swollen red, his eyes frantic with passion.

  I hold myself by wrapping my arms around his neck while he unbuttons and pulls down his pants and boxers so that they pool at his feet.

  “Damn, I need you, babe. Like now.”

  With our gazes still locked, he grabs my ass and spreads my legs, pushing me down over his beautiful cock, plunging deliciously slow so I can feel every inch of him. He sucks in a loud breath, stretching me exquisitely. I hold my breath until he is rooted. My core ripples around him, welcoming him.

  I need him. I need him now.

  I’m wanted again by the man I married, the man I love.

  “Fuck,” James growls, driving hard and rocking his hips. His body is granite against me, his muscles rippling beneath my fingers.

  “More. Please, more.”I open wider, taking more of him.

  “Yes…like that.” He finds a steady rhythm.

  Our foreheads crash together as he sinks deeper and deeper. I take his mouth in a deep kiss, letting the rhythm of his thrusts set the pace. Everything accelerates and intensifies, as he grounds his hips, reminding me how intensely he can possess me in every way. I cry out as my walls clench around him with each thrust, clinging to him, urging him into me, the need to have him moving inside me almost more than I can bear.

  He whispers the things he wants to do to me, how every minute inside me makes him feel.

  “James, oh God...” There’s nothing but the sound of his voice and his cock plunging into me. My lips tremble as the tension mounts.

  “Yes, baby. That’s it,” he moans as my core ripples around his cock.

  He drives in hard so his cock hits the spot inside me that makes everything go blank, a white burst of light as heat mushrooms through my body, setting fire to my every nerve.

  His name leaves my lips in a hoarse cry. Colors burst behind my eyes as my body seizes around his, the explosion rocketing through my core.

  “Yes...baby…just like that.”

  My toes curl as he rolls into the last few strokes that take us both over the edge. With every thrust, he grows, throbbing hotter, thicker, harder, driving toward the finish he needs. His face is etched with determination, and his eyes are wild. He’s losing control as he hurls himself over the edge. Gripping my hips roughly, he buries himself in me one last time with a loud moan.

  Sated and breathing heavily with my arms still around his slick heated body and my legs wrapped around his waist, I look at him and his eyes burn into me, as if he’s branding me and all the fear and uncertainty I sensed dissipates.

  “That’s what you and black lacy things do to me.” James’ face is relaxed, and his eyes are dark and serious. He strokes my face reverently, pushing strands of hair away.

  “Thanks for the reminder.” I sigh softly, tugging at his hair.

  James grips my hips and nuzzles his nose in my neck, pressing into me one last time before I untangle my legs from his waist. He sets me down, still holding me up since my legs feel like Jell-O. This was how it used to be when the sight of one another would make us so horny we would end up fucking until we were both sweaty and breathless. Sometimes it was gentle and sweet, never looking away from each other, and other times it was rough, where all we could hear were our moans and the slapping of our bodies. There was no in between. I still feel those same desires, but I can’t act on my impulses, since I’m unsure of how James feels.

  Could we be turning the corner now?

  “I think my wardrobe needs an overhaul,” I tease as I finger a white dress hanging in the closet. “More black.”

  James scratches his head and laughs a deep, appeasing sound to my ears. His blue eyes soften as he traces his finger across my collarbone and lifts the hair off my neck. A rush of restless butterflies takes flight behind my navel when he leans down and brings his lips to the tingling skin on my neck.

  “Let’s freshen up and celebrate four years together as man and wife,” he whispers, his voice low and husky.

  I smile and stroke his slightly rough cheek, pulling back so that our eyes lock, wondering how my husband can go from being loving to being indifferent so quickly. I can’t explain it, and I don’t want to know the answer. The conflicting emotions overwhelm me, leaving me confused. The heart is stubborn. It holds onto love, even though common sense tells you it’s time to move on, but I just want James. I want us more than anything.

  The valet opens my door as James agilely rounds the front of the car, taking my hand and helping me out. I feel like the belle of the ball, just like our wedding day.

  “I’ve got my wife. You just take care of the car,” James demands.

  I right myself, adjust my short dress, and loop my arm in his, pretending I don’t hear the sternness in his voice. Instead, I focus on his hand on the crest of my back and the warmth of his feral body mere inches from my own as he guides me into the building.

  Pascal’s is my favorite high-end Italian restaurant in town, and tonight it is filled to capacity. It serves authentic Italian food, bu
t it’s nothing like my grandmother’s cooking. The hostess greets us, letting us know our reservation will be ready in five minutes. James wraps his arm around my hip and guides us to the bar for a drink, where we mingle with local friends and business associates while we wait for our table.

  Everyone knows James. He walks into a room, and someone always comes up to greet him, wanting to chat and to be seen with him. Top of his class at Harvard, we returned to his hometown a year ago for him to become the youngest district attorney in the city. James is clever, charismatic, and ambitious. And the women…he could have any woman he wants. Just like the female bartender who’s turned her attention to him, giving him a flirtatious smile.

  I witnessed firsthand in college how the coeds admired him when I was taking photos of the Harvard campus. The girls flocked to him, even knowing I was his girlfriend. I remember the first time I laid eyes on him behind the lens of my Nikon D50 on that sweltering summer day. He was running through campus shirtless with only a pair of black athletic shorts covering his body. He was gorgeous.

  I couldn’t help but take snapshots of him as he stretched and sipped his water, sweat glistening on his lean, muscular body. It was like a Sports Illustrated photo shoot. I was so caught up in his godliness I didn’t notice him checking me out as well in my flimsy cotton sundress that was blowing in the wind and exposing me to the world. He rescued me from embarrassment. His hand rested upon the small of my back, pulling down my white dress to cover my ass. I didn’t flinch at his touch. Instead, I toppled into it.

  “This is a view to remember, but I’d rather not share it with the world.” He chuckled as his blue eyes sparkled and danced over me, blessing me with his charming smile that was slightly crooked and his deep dimple. I was putty in his hands. From that day forward, we were inseparable. I still have those pictures. We met on June twelfth, and on the same day six years later, we were married.