Love’s Unselfish Gift Read online

  Alanzo opened his mouth to speak but instead turned away, shaking his head. “I’m not my brother, and I won’t put up with your tantrums. And I damn sure won’t stand in this house or any other when I’m not welcome.”

  Humph. Spoken like Marco himself.

  I gasped then. After reading Marco’s letter, did I really want Alanzo to walk out? Could I let him go after his confession?

  The paper slipped from my fingertips, and I clasped my hands over my face and bawled. Like a little newborn baby, I cried out because the big old world didn’t offer the warm comfort zone where I’d once been most secure. My protective shield, the warm body that used to hold me, no longer existed.

  I cried for what I missed and sobbed for what I no longer had, and I suddenly resented Marco. He apparently thought of everything, right down to who should take care of me in his absence.

  I didn’t want a cheap replacement. I didn’t want a duplicated body with like features and a reproduced voice. I wanted the real deal—my man, my Marco, my husband.

  Alanzo walked across the room. He placed his hand on the doorknob and said, “What am I supposed to do now, Suzy? Do you want me to leave?”

  I buried my face in the hook of my arm. “I don’t know!” I wailed.

  He took cautious steps before he stood next to me. “Shh,” he said. “Shh, Suzy girl, come on, hon.” He continued to soothe me with his voice. Long fingers twirled through my hair while he brushed the locks away from my face.

  “Why do you have to look like him?” I asked with obvious cruelty in my question.

  “I’ve asked myself that plenty of times,” he admitted, drawing me against his chest. “If I could look like someone else, if I could’ve made the choice to have died in his place, all of these things, Suzy—I have asked them.”

  I choked on another sob and wrapped my arms around his neck. While he consoled me, I reminded myself of who held me. It was a constant struggle not to kiss him. I wanted to remember what it felt like to snuggle deeper into Marco’s thick arms. Could Alanzo stand in for Marco and at least replace him for a little while?

  Alanzo picked me up and carried me up the stairs, making his way down the long hallway. He pushed my bedroom door open and carried me over to the king-sized bed, placing me on the mattress and then strolling into the bathroom to start the bath water.

  He quickly returned and sat next to me while waiting for the tub to fill, leaving once or twice to check on the progress and returning without a word. I stared straight ahead, listening to the steady stream pouring from the faucet.

  “The last time we were here, we had a fight.” It was a struggle to choke out the confession.

  “A fight?” he asked, amused. “To hear Marco tell it, the two of you never had a disagreement.”

  “Oh, we fought all right, at least in the beginning.”

  “I know you had some arguments over the drinking.”

  I covered my mouth. The stench of alcohol reminded me of two lost days. Suddenly, I felt very ashamed of myself. Marco would’ve rolled over in his grave if he’d known his brother found me in a dark basement surrounded by liquor bottles and wine corks.

  Alanzo pulled my hand away from my mouth. “I’m not my brother, Suzy. I’m not scolding you because you had a setback. Everyone is entitled to a mistake. There’s no harm done. I’ll clean up the mess. I’ll take care of everything.”

  With my arms looped around my middle, I glared at the worn carpeting, something I meant to replace but never took the time. The phone rang, and I didn’t make an effort to grab it from the bedside table.

  Alanzo walked over and snatched it before the bell-like noise jangled again. “Hello? Yes, Mother? No, what we need is time. Have Mark bring you back here or take you to the cottage. Either is fine. Yes, I’m sure. Goodbye.”

  “Dear old Anna,” I drawled.

  “She loves you.”

  “She’s driving me insane.”

  “Mom wants to see you happy.”

  “She’s hiding her grief behind me,” I said. “After your father died, she didn’t have time to mourn him because then Marco passed. She’s never taken the time to grieve herself.”

  “She’s grieved, Suzy. I’ve watched her.”

  “She’s prevented me from my own mourning process!”

  “Then grieve, damn you!” he exclaimed leaving the room and turning the faucet off in the bathroom. He returned quickly. “Suzy, it’s been almost two years.”

  “One year and seven months and everyone thinks I should forget the past and move forward with a smile on my face. Two years and it’s time to forget the greatest love I’ve ever known! What the fuck is that? Is there some sort of written law stating widows should only grieve a maximum of twenty-four months?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?”

  “I think it’s time for you to accept Marco’s death, that’s all.”

  “He…was…my…husband!”

  “And he was my brother!” he shouted, grabbing my arms and shaking me. “You think I don’t miss him? Huh? You think there’s a day that goes by when I don’t think about him? Do you? Do you think I don’t wake up in the middle of the night and wonder what his life might have been like if he had only lived to have children of his own? I wonder, Suzy. God yes, I wonder. And I miss him more every day, so don’t you talk to me about grief. I was his twin. I spent the first eighteen years of my life as his second skin. I am devastated, just as much as you are.”

  My mouth quivered. Yes, I thought, looking into Alanzo’s eyes. He knew hurt. He was killed, and for a split second, I wanted to ease his pain.

  I looked at his mouth. Maybe I puckered or my lips parted, but something changed between us. I fully accepted the responsibility for my actions because I did something to initiate a kiss. Alanzo followed my lead.

  Chapter Three

  Alanzo framed my face with the balls of his hands resting under my chin. When his lips met mine, the kiss wasn’t hungry or overly aggressive. Instead, his soft mouth stole a tender moment. I sensed the dull ache beyond his swollen lips, and they matched the layers of pain I saw in his eyes.

  I pulled him closer, grabbing his collar and kissing him deeply. Then I felt him pull away. No please, not now. He couldn’t leave me again. No, no, no!

  “Suzy,” he whispered. “I’m not Marco.”

  Tears streamed down my face. I knew he wasn’t Marco. Just because our kiss changed didn’t mean I thought he magically turned into his brother.

  I set my jaw and pushed him away. Didn’t I know the difference? Sure. Of course I did. It didn’t change the fact that I wanted to lose myself in the past. If Alanzo wanted to help me, then he could’ve understood and welcomed the opportunity to truly stand in for his brother.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” I said, pressing the back of my hand to my lips.

  “No harm done,” he promised. “Your bath is ready. Want me to stay here while you soak?”

  I studied his expression and saw the sincerity. He wasn’t offering because of some twisted need to see my nude body sliding into the tub. He cared whether or not I could handle being alone and right then, especially after the kiss, I could not.

  Nodding my head, I walked toward the bathroom, and he took a seat on the small sofa in the far corner of my room. “I’ll wait here.”

  Still buzzing, I stumbled toward the vanity and stripped off my black skirt and dirty white blouse. Then I discarded undergarments, never bothering to watch them fall to the floor. Glancing in the mirror, I looked away almost immediately. God, I looked like hell.

  My mass of tangled hair needed touch-up color. Maybe I’d go for bleach blonde next time rather than keep the auburn tint. The dark eye liner I usually wore caked under my eyes, leaving the evidence of a coal black shade that once painted my lids and lashes.

  Completely nude, I eased over to the bathtub and sat down in the hot water. My breasts rose and fell with every breath and I felt exposed a
nd quite nervous. Leaning my head back against the headrest, I planned to soak and relax. I also wanted to die right there, never feel this kind of pain again. The mix of emotions seared my flesh from the inside out and the finality of mourning seemed replaced by a new feeling of betrayal.

  And right then, I accepted the loss. It was time to move on. If I wanted anything to happen between me and Alanzo, and I thought I might, then I had to let go of the past. I had to say farewell to Marco.

  Tearing my gaze away from the silver faucet, I looked into the large gold-leaf mirror above the dual sinks and dressing table. I caught Alanzo’s eyes, and with a heated gaze I wanted him to interpret, I didn’t look away.

  A few minutes lapsed. We stared into one another’s eyes. He finally stood, slowly pacing across the bedroom until he closed the heavy door. I heard the lock catch almost as loudly as my own breath.

  This was wrong, but wrong or not, there was only one man alive who could ever make things right. Alanzo had to try and love me. I planned to let him take his best shot.

  * * * *

  Moments later, Alanzo undressed and stood at the edge of the tub with his cock hanging free in front of him. He acted like he hardly noticed his erection. He stood motionless, and his solemn expression proved hard to interpret.

  I wanted to feel awkward, maybe even a little guilty. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything there to bring on the guilt an adulteress might have anticipated. Maybe because with my husband dead and buried, what we contemplated didn’t constitute adultery.

  Aware of the clear exposure the water allowed without bubbles to cover me, I wanted to seduce him but didn’t have the energy, or the desire to play the part of a seductress. I don’t think Alanzo expected me to fit into any particular role. Not now, and maybe not ever. He sought comfort, and somewhere in his eyes I saw what we both needed most.

  Alanzo longed to love me. Perhaps this was long overdue.

  He eased into the tub and his cock retreated, squishing in between his legs while he squatted for a position at the opposite end. I shifted and he found his spot.

  Touching my ankle, he carefully brought my leg out of the water and planted a kiss on my calf, sliding his tongue up and down my inner leg. His lips moved like a feather, barely grazing my skin, but I was aware of his mouth and the man behind perhaps the softest kisses I’d ever enjoyed.

  In some ways, I felt it was necessary to stop him. In others, it was as if I longed to encourage him. If I went forward, if I let Alanzo take me, I needed to keep in mind Alanzo wasn’t Marco. Making love to Alanzo wouldn’t bring Marco back. If I wanted to let go of the husband I lost, I needed to look at Alanzo as an individual man of interest, without considering his twin ties to Marco.

  Like the letter from Marco suggested, there had always been an attraction there, a certain admiration. Sure, we enjoyed playful teasing, but a mutual respect for one another and Marco forced us to keep our feelings in check. We never crossed those lines while Marco was living but should we sprint over them now?

  His hands propelled over my hips, and he used the leverage I allowed him to cup my bottom and draw me closer, tugging my body upward until he positioned me over him. My legs draped over his hips and the undeniable feel of flexed muscle made me all too aware of the man under me.

  With my breasts in front of him, he took a deep breath and glanced up, making the first of many compliments I’d become accustomed to receiving over the years. “God, you’re the most gorgeous woman in the world,” he said. Of course I’d never heard that particular one fall from Alanzo’s sensual lips.

  Suckling my breast, he nuzzled the fullness and then drew in a nipple, lapping over the point while nipping and teasing. But I didn’t want him to toy with me. I wanted to feel him, understanding that this experience wouldn’t necessarily lead to true enjoyment but rather satisfy a longing we’d both felt for some time.

  Sliding down, he held his hand over the mushroom head of his cock. With my heat at the back of his hand, he rubbed my pussy back and forth, causing an incredible friction and an awareness of why he stopped the immediate joining of our two bodies.

  “Suzy,” he whispered, gazing into my eyes. “Tell me who you see when you look at me.”

  I didn’t want to see Marco then, but how could I not? And how could he expect me to lie right then? What purpose would fibs later serve?

  I pressed my lips to his but he didn’t open in acceptance. Instead, he held me back. “I have to know who you see. Right now. Tell me.”

  I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. “I can’t tell you what you want to hear, Alanzo. Not yet.”

  “Start with what you feel. Say what’s on your heart.”

  I didn’t want to hurt him and yet I couldn’t lose whatever we’d only just begun. I wasn’t a woman who enjoyed taking a few steps forward and several jumps back, so I said, “I can’t help but see Marco when I look at you. You’re twins. Of course I look at you and see your brother just as…” I paused because he looked away. I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me before continuing. “I used to look at him and see you. With identical twins, that’s expected. None of this changes what we both want and need from one another right now.”

  “I do need you, Suzy. God knows I don’t want to ache for you, but I can’t help myself.”

  His body shifted and he placed his hands on the side of the tub like he planned to leave me. I closed my eyes and tried to resist the unfathomable urges building and building. He stood with his apparent intentions of deserting me.

  “You’re going to go now? Even after I tried to be honest with you?”

  He looked down the length of his body, and his cock was clearly flaccid. His body wasn’t as prepared to take me as it had been mere seconds before. He stroked my cheek, caressing my face from chin to brow.

  “Do you want me to make love to you or not, Suzy?”

  Make love? What the hell happened to screwing out the need, the longing? What happened to calling a good old wham-bang, a fuck? Why did he have to use the term only married couples or those committed to one another used?

  “Suzy?”

  No. I needed to say no. “Yes,” I said, compliant, standing, and pressing my body against his. “I need you to take away this pain, Alanzo, and you’re the only one who can.”

  “I’ll soothe more than your broken heart,” he promised, nipping at my shoulder. Then, we embraced.

  A few seconds later, he picked me up and stepped out of the tub. Within minutes, we were on my bed, tangled in each other’s arms.

  * * * *

  I couldn’t think about the last time someone loved me in this bed. I refused to think about the man who once caressed me and held me until the wee hours of the morning. I flatly denied comparing men, noting those strong similarities or even the differences in brothers. I wanted to experience Alanzo and appreciate what he offered.

  And God help me, I really needed to stop wishing for the ability to separate the men and do it, just jump forward and never look back. Laying the past to rest was easier thought than done.

  Alanzo kissed me and his lips didn’t lead the way right into foreplay but rather insisted on a fuller exploration, one of sensual beginnings. If he planned to kiss away the apprehension and then move forward from there, he succeeded.

  What happened in that window of opportunity left me forever changed. His kisses started out soft, light as a feather. Brushing my mouth against his, my body responded to his kiss, not Marco’s. His gentle touch bruised my heart but healed my body.

  “You’re like an angel,” he told me, lowering his mouth to my breast and then taking a nipple between his teeth, teasing and nipping, encouraging relaxation almost as much as responsiveness.

  “I’ve waited so long, Suzy.”

  Believing him was a curse and a relief. Yes, I’d experienced those feelings. Yes, I understood what it felt like to want Alanzo, but I’d denied myself the opportunity, ignored any half-chances because I loved my husband. I adored Marco and c
herished our commitment to one another.

  Alanzo wasn’t asking for anything. He didn’t promise anything. Oh God. Oh no, I couldn’t think it, and I couldn’t believe in something he didn’t dare mention.

  This was so wrong to make love, if that’s what he called it, to my husband’s brother when I thought too much of consequences and there were still so many unanswered questions. I had feelings left to sort through.

  His hands moved lower, gripping my waist and then my hips. A wide open palm cupped under my heat. Masculine fingers probed, spreading my lips and plunging inside the opening I’d once thought might remain forever sealed.

  “Alanzo,” I choked out, relaxing my head against the pillow.

  “Shh,” he said, stealing away my next breath, reminding me of how Marco used to hush me when all I craved was hard and rowdy sex.

  The ripe sensation of his tongue fluttering across my stomach made every nerve ending responsive. I tingled all over, unable to stop him when he glided lower.

  He would stretch my legs, widen them for a purpose. Then, he’d hover over my pussy and eat me alive. There wasn’t any doubt. He kept moving down, and I wanted him there. I longed to have his tongue on me, inside of me, stroking and licking, sipping and sucking.

  Bam! Bam! Bam! The knock on the bedroom door jolted away the fantasy, and then I heard Mark ask, “Suzy? Are you all right?”

  Alanzo’s mouth lingered inches from my mound. My ex-husband slammed his fist into the door panels once more. “Suzy? Is Alanzo in there with you?”

  I shook my head and I should’ve known better. He was, after all, his brother’s twin. The two men shared too many similarities. One upping their perceived competition trumped all others.

  Chapter Four

  “Mark,” Alanzo said gruffly when he opened the bedroom door.