Текст книги "Seth"

Автор книги: Jo Raven

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-One

Seth

The journey to the ER takes place in a kind of weird haze. My head feels a size too big for my neck, and even the pain doesn’t seem to clear it. Plus, every movement, every bump in the road jostles my shoulder, and my jaw’s clenched so hard it creaks.

But Manon is there, beside me, her hand on top of mine, and nothing else matters. Even if I have no place to go, if Zane and Rafe want me far from Damage Control, if I don’t have a penny to my name.

“I think I love you.”

Did she mean it? Could she change her mind? Will she stay?

She said it’s not a dream, but what if it is? What if I wake up, curled up in that alley, alone? What if I dreamed her up?

I dreamed a lot wrapped up in my quilt—of Manon walking away, of Shane’s anger, of my mom’s betrayal. Nightmare after nightmare, sinking claws into my mind, tearing my thoughts apart.

And now I’m back at the hospital. Joy. I let the guys manhandle me into a wheelchair, roll me inside. Let the doctors poke me and prod me, ask me questions.

Zane, Rafe and Shane stay outside the examination room. Shane won’t look me in the eye. He feels guilty for punching me, dislocating my shoulder. I’ll need to talk to him later. Tell him I understand. That he was right: I’m the one who got him in this mess in the first place. I deserved that punch, and his anger.

Need to talk to Zane and Rafe, too. Ask them to take Shane back in. Explain he was collateral damage. Nothing that happened three years ago was his fault – and he needs a family, much more than I ever have.

Hell. I press my fist to my aching chest as the doctor says something about broken ligaments and possible surgery. The pressure is back.

“Depending on what?” I ask.

“The x-rays. The fever is sometimes a side effect of a broken bone. Let’s wait and see the results. Come with me, Mr. Tucker.”

I look over my shoulder at Manon, fully expecting her to leave, or simply go up in smoke and vanish.

She doesn’t. She smiles at me, and comes to stand by the bed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says, as if reading my mind.

Makes me wonder about the expression on my face. Makes me wonder about lots of things, but as we walk out of the room together, I don’t fucking care. I’ll hold on to this dream for as long as it lasts.

***

Clavicle fracture. Broken ligaments. Dislocation.

The good news is that I won’t need surgery. I may need one in the future if this happens again, but if I’m careful, I may avoid it. Antibiotics, painkillers and a shoulder immobilizer, that’s what I’ll need for now.

The bad news is… The shoulder needs to be set.

Shit.

I know the drill. Sit still as the doc injects the sedative, barely flinch when he takes my arm and pulls hard.

Fucking ow. Hurts in spite of the sedative, probably because this time I have a fracture to go with it, but the pain lessens almost immediately as the joint settles in its natural position.

Manon’s face grays a little, though, and she takes a step back. From the corner of my eye, I see Shane and I nod at him. He approaches, takes Manon’s elbow, tugging her away.

She shakes her head, pulls her arm free and comes to sit beside me on the bed. She laces her hand with mine. I look down at our intertwined fingers, vaguely aware of the doc talking, checking my shoulder.

“You said Fred and you broke up?” Need to be sure I didn’t imagine this.

“That’s right.” She squeezes my fingers. “Fred and I decided to be friends. Truth is, what I feel for him is more sisterly love than anything else. I can’t even think about kissing him or touching him.” She lifts my hands, kiss my knuckles. “Not like I kiss and touch you.”

My mouth goes dry. I want to kiss her. Dying to kiss her. “So you’re not with Fred. Or anyone else?”

She huffs a breath of laughter. “Well, to be honest, I am with someone.”

“Fuck.” My stomach plunges. “Who?”

“You may know him. Tall, handsome, kind. Strong and sexy. A little banged up and down on his luck, but I sense things are about to change.”

I blink at her, unable to speak.

“I’ve been his for a while, without realizing,” she goes on, her long lashes sweeping low over her eyes, hiding them. “But I don’t know if he wants me with him for real.”

“He’d be…” My breath catches. “He’d be an idiot if he didn’t want you. Manon… I have a record, no money, no job. Are you sure?”

“I know all this,” she whispers. “Do you want me? Am I yours?”

“Fuck yeah, you are.” I lift both our hands to her face. My pulse is roaring in my ears. “You are.”

And I’ll do everything in my power to make her happy.

***

Shoulder immobilizer in place, with a prescription and forms to fill out, I leave the hospital with strict instructions to return if the fever persists and if I notice any swelling, discoloration or numbness in my arm.

Pumped full of sedatives and painkillers, with my shoulder fixed and my arm steadied, the pain dropping to a bearable level, I can breathe again. I can think.

And I realize Manon is still there with me. As are the other guys. Shane, Zane, Rafe. In fact, more have appeared since last I looked: Jesse is there, with Amber, Micah and Ev.

What the hell? They all know about my record now. Why would they bother to come check on me?

They are quiet as they surround us, clapping each other’s backs. One by one they come to me. Ev kisses my cheek. Micah nods and squeezes my forearm.

Jesse pulls me in for a quick hug, pats my back. “Glad you’re okay, man. When I heard they couldn’t find you, I just about punched a hole in the wall.”

“J.” I wait until he lets go. “You know about me. I don’t fucking get it.”

“Did you do it?” He’s staring steadily back at me, right there on the street outside the hospital, and there’s a challenge in his gaze. “Back at Damage, you claimed you were set up. Was that true?”

I swallow hard. “Yes, it was.”

“Then I believe you.” He grabs my hand, squeezes. “I trust you, Seth. You believed me when I needed you, had my back. If you say you’re innocent, then I believe you, man. We all do. Because we are your friends, and we fucking love you, man.”

Fuck. I clasp his hand, hold on, ’cuz it feels like I’m caught in an eddy of emotions I don’t understand. I know I’m grateful. Happy. Touched. So fucking scared to trust in it I have no words.

Then Manon is tugging me toward her car, and I let her, follow her blindly. My lungs feel crushed. My ribs ache. The familiar pressure is back. Feels like my heart will give out.

Means the world to me, that they’re standing by my side, even if Zane and Rafe kicked me out. Because my record isn’t going away, and they’ve every right to be damn angry with me. The fact that they came after me, made sure I’m okay, is more than I could ever hope for.

Finding Manon with me is more than I could ever dream.

I’ll take that. I’ll goddamn take it and be thankful. Broken bones and dislocated shoulders are sure worth it. Small price to pay for finding out I’m not alone—no, not just that, but that my cousin, my best friend, and my girl are on my side.

Dammit, fate. Did you plan all this? You’re damn good. I can’t ask for more—because it’s already more than I’ve ever had. More than I’ve ever imagined having.

***

The question of where I’m crashing tonight never comes up. We park outside Manon’s apartment and we all file inside.

Looks like everyone knows about my eviction from my apartment. Also where we were heading since we left the hospital.

We all cram inside Manon’s apartment, and I’m settled on the sofa. Nobody seems about to leave, and I don’t know what’s going on. Zane is on the phone, while Jesse, Micah and Rafe are talking quietly in a corner. Ev is doing something in the kitchen together with Manon.

So fucking weird.

Then it gets weirder, because the doorbell rings, and more people arrive. Asher and Dylan, Ocean and Tyler, Dakota and Tessa. The whole gang is here.

What the fuck?

“What’s going on?” I ask when Tyler sits down beside me, and Asher on the other side of me. “What’s this? Am I under arrest or something?”

Tyler elbows me in the ribs. “Relax, buddy. First of all, we’re checking on you, making sure you’re okay. When one of our family is hurt, we show up. Suck it up and be quiet.”

I gape at him, and he smirks. “You know my—”

“Your record. Yeah, heard everything.” He waves a hand back and forth dismissively. “Drug possession. When you were seventeen. And trafficking. Got it.”

I’m still gaping at him. “But Zane—”

“Zane lost it because you never told him. He has a thing about that. He fucking hates it when we don’t talk to him about our problems. He’s such a mother-hen.”

Okay. I’ve landed in a Fringe episode. Alternative reality. Has to be.

“But he…” I try again, trying to wrap my mind around this. “He sent me away. You were there. I don’t—”

“Z-man sent you home,” Asher says from my other side. He looks dead serious. “Until he could sort things out, find out more about this. He didn’t send you away. Zane would never do that to you.”

“That’s right,” Zane says, and fuck, when did he cross the room to stand right in front of me? I’m getting whiplash with these guys. “Now listen to me, fucker. Don’t spring things like that on me. I’m getting gray hair with this shit. You’re family, and I’m behind you all the way, no matter if you made mistakes in your past or not. I’d never have sent you away without looking into this. I trust you. As long as you trust me, too, and don’t hide things from me.”

“We are looking into this,” Tyler says, and Jesus, I have no clue what they’re talking about.

“Looking into what?” I glance from one to the other, mystified. My shoulder is throbbing dully, there’s a hum inside my skull. “What’s going on?”

Zane turns toward the corner where Rafe’s standing, talking on his cell phone. “We got into contact with the jail where your mom’s held. Talked to her lawyer. It seems there might be a new development.”

In what? I want to ask. What the hell are they doing? But I notice that everyone’s now looking at Rafe, who’s gesturing as he turns his back to us, saying something, then nodding.

I’m distantly aware of Asher and Tyler getting up, approaching Rafe. They’re forming a circle around him. I’m left outside.

Manon sits down beside me, takes my good hand. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” Her touch grounds me. Like a lifeline, it tethers me, embraces me. “Any idea what they’re doing? Who is Rafe talking to? Is…” The words catch in my mouth. “Is my mom okay?”

“She’s fine.” She nods at Shane who’s broken away from the circle and comes to perch on the armrest of the couch. “Any news?”

“It seems she…” He shakes his head, pulls his long hair out of his face. He looks shaken. “Your mom. She confessed.”

I stare at him. Stare at his wide eyes, his arched brows, the shock written on every line of his face. “She what?”

“She said you talked to her, told her things… made her realize what she’s done. Made her regret.” Shane’s eyes meet mine. “She confessed she set us up three years ago. Claims she was duped by her husband, assured we’d get off light.”

“The hell she did.”

“I know. But the thing is, man… she confessed. Officially and everything. Our case will be reopened.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” He just sits there, slumped over. “Yeah.”

We stare at each other. Shouldn’t we be jumping around in joy, chest-bumping, back-thumping? Singing, or yelling or something?

I can’t believe this is real. From Shane’s face, I bet he doesn’t either. When life has fucked you over as many times as it did us, then you’re always suspicious of the good news.

The others don’t seem to have any trouble believing it, though. Rafe finally lowers the damn phone, and they all start yelling and punching the air. Zane grabs Dakota round the waist and swings her around, making her squeal. Micah and Ev hug each other, laughing. Tyler and Asher bump fists.

This is really happening. Too much to take in. Especially when Zane and Asher turn toward me and come to stand over me.

“I have a damn good feeling about this,” Zane says, grinning like the mad joker. “We’ll clear your name, guys. Just wait and see. The Brotherhood doesn’t easily give up. Not on their own.”

Their own. It’s slowly sinking in, in fits and starts, in rippling circles. I’m part of this brotherhood, this family. They never were about to kick me out. All this time, they’ve been trying to help. They had my back and now they’re celebrating because they might have found a way to save me. Clear my name. Give me back my life.

Manon’s arm slips around me, and I breathe out, struggling to focus. But I can’t. My eyes have gone blurry, and I can’t breathe. I can’t. Gasping, gritting my teeth, I bend over. There’s a stone lodged under my ribs, a lump in my throat. It won’t go away.

“Seth.” Manon twists, puts both arms around me. “Hey…”

My chest contracts, my lungs finally allow in air, and I gasp again, dimly aware my cheeks feel cool. Wet. The pressure in my chest finally gives, and the pain starts to fade.

More arms go around me, patting my good arm, my back, holding me. Anchoring me. Shane, Asher, Jesse.

Fuck. I’m crying on Manon’s shoulder. What the fuck’s wrong with me? I’ve made it through the worst without shedding a damn tear, and now I can’t seem to stop.

“I love you,” she whispers in my ear. “I love you, Seth.”

I hang on to her voice, to her words, struggling through this, and think, well, if she still does, even after seeing me sob like a baby, then fuck it. Seriously, when all’s said and done? I’m the luckiest man in the whole damn world.

Thank you, fate. I owe you.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Manon

A month later

I wake up to find Seth sitting up in bed, clutching his injured arm to his stomach. He’s graduated from a full shoulder immobilizer to a smaller sling, since that awful day when we found him in that back alley, and the doctors are happy with his progress. Still, on some days he’s in pain.

“Hey.” I sit up, rubbing my eyes. The sky outside is lightening. “Can I get you a painkiller?”

“I’m fine.”

I know he has nightmares. Mostly from his time in prison. He told me about them, told me a few things about what happened there. Makes me want to hug him all the time, remind him those days are over.

That’s what I do now. I scoot closer, hug him around his waist. He puts his good arm around my shoulders and I lean on him, inhaling his spicy, musky scent.

“Bad dreams?” I whisper, my cheek resting on the hard muscle of his pec.

He hums an affirmation.

“Want to talk about it?” I look up, searching his face for clues.

I like to think I’ve learned the small shifts in his expression that tell me what he’s thinking—but maybe he’s just lowering his defenses around me, letting me see what he feels. Even when he’s angry or sad, or shaken by a nightmare—something he wouldn’t have allowed himself before.

He trusts more. Slowly, in degrees, he’s letting himself believe his life won’t crash and burn come tomorrow. That this isn’t a joke. That he has a chance at happiness.

He’s back to training at the tattoo shop. Zane is really pleased with his work and wants him taking it up full time soon. Meanwhile, he got a job at a gym. In fact, Cassie’s the one who got him the job. Maybe one day the guys will become friends with her again.

And I have a surprise for him: I’ve asked at the Herpetology Club at the university if they’d accept a member from outside, and they said yes. I hope he likes the idea.

“How about I go make us some coffee?” I ask.

Seth doesn’t move. He’s looking at me under lowered lashes, and I frown. What I see in his gaze is fear.

“What is it?” I lift one hand and rub slow circles over the hard muscles of his chest. “Seth.”

He often dreams of the solitary confinement room where he was locked up sometimes, or the guard who beat him up. Can’t stand to see him lost in pain.

“Nothing,” he whispers. He smiles, the fear slowly fading from his gaze. “It’s nothing. Can’t even recall what the dream was about.”

I rub my cheek on the soft flannel of his T-shirt. “Maybe it’s stress, because you’re meeting your mom tomorrow.”

“Maybe.” He shivers, and I manage to scoot just a little bit closer. “Don’t know what the fuck to feel about that.”

Because she confessed, and maybe one day his record may be cleared. But how do you clear your head from all those memories of pain, or from the fact that it was your own mom who left you to suffer and vanished from your life?

Yeah. He may forgive her someday, I don’t know. It’s his mom. But as for myself, I don’t know if I can ever forgive her for putting him through this.

“I’ll be there with you,” I remind him gently. “You’re not alone in this, Seth.”

He sighs, kisses the top of my head. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?”

“Been so nice. Now you’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” I murmur. “You’re mine. Not letting you go.”

I love the smile that lights up his face. I’ll convince him I’m staying, that this is for real, and that he deserves all the happiness in the world.

***

“Looks like another gray day.” I peek out of the kitchen window, clutching my steaming mug in my hands. “Let’s hope it won’t rain.”

I’m driving us to Indiana, to visit Seth’s mom in jail. Rain on the highway isn’t one of my favorite things in life, although for Seth, I’d do anything.

It’s because he looks so delicious, sitting in my kitchen only in his sweats, that muscular chest bare, I tell myself. Even the black sling looks badass on him, the tattoos on his arm peeking over the cloth, swirling on his pecs and shoulders.

But it’s not just that. I love his mind, his big heart that lets him listen to my petty complaints and rants and think they are important, even if his own problems are that much worse. His lack of selfishness and arrogance.

Still, that body… Holy crap.

He looks up from doctoring his coffee with milk and sugar and grins at me. “If it rains, we could take up our lessons in your car again.”

“Shut up.” My face heats up at the memory of our making-out session in the parking lot of the zoo.

“Are you telling me it wasn’t fun?”

How can I lie? It was amazing, and the way he’s looking at me sets my blood on fire. “It was.”

“We’re behind on your training,” he says, taking a sip from his coffee, dark eyes wicked. “Need to catch up.”

“So now you’re training me for yourself?” I step close to him, put my mug down on the table.

“Damn right.” He takes another sip, places his mug next to mine and reaches for me. “Who else?”

That’s right. I laugh when he pulls me to his lap. “So I’m not good enough yet?”

“You’re the best there is,” he says, his voice going husky and deep. “The sexiest, most beautiful girl in the world.”

“But you think I need training,” I tease, straddling his lap, lacing my arms around his neck. “More training.”

“One can always improve,” he says, “and practice makes perfect. You know, you could train me, too.”

“I’ll do that,” I whisper, bending over him, kissing his soft lips, his scruff scratching my chin. “Teach you a thing or two.”

“Oh yeah, baby.” He groans, his cock hard and thick, pressing between my legs. “Teach me what you like.”

Oh God, I like everything I do with Seth, everything he does to me. I love it when he touches me, I love putting my hands and my mouth on him. He’s like chocolate and Nutella. The boy’s addictive.

Like now, when I worm my hand between us and into his sweats, finding his hot, hard flesh, when he moans and whispers my name. His hard-on is velvet wrapped around steel. I slide my hand up and down, feeling it swell, pulling it out of his sweats, rubbing my thumb over the head, smearing the clear liquid there, the way he likes it.

“Shit. Yes.” He rocks into my hand, bracing one hand on my shoulder. “Fuck, if you keep doing this, I’m gonna come all over you. Dirty that pretty top you’re wearing.” He manages to smirk as he pants for breath. “I think you’d better undress.”

“To save my top?” I snicker.

“No.” He tugs on the hem. “’Cuz I wanna come all over your tits. Unless I can come inside you. If you can reach the condom on the shelf.”

“You stashed condoms on the kitchen shelf?”

“For emergencies. Like this one.”

Can’t argue with that. I need him with an intensity that frightens me—and his hand slipping under my top, finding my breast and tugging on my nipple isn’t helping things.

God, it feels so good. He lifts his face toward me and our lips meet again, his taste heady and dark, his tongue stroking mine until I think I’ll die from wanting him. His naked cock rubs over the thin cotton of my panties, over my sensitive clit, and my body’s on overload.

Can’t… Can’t take more. I try to break away, find the condom, but he twists my nipple, a light, small twist, and my core clenches so hard I come with a tiny wail.

Oh shit. God. This never used to happen to me. I don’t just come from a guy’s hand on my nipple and his cock rubbing over my panties.

But I am. With Seth I am. Sometimes I think a look from him can do it.

“Condom,” he whispers, his voice strained. “Or I’ll come all over you.”

The thought of him losing control because of me, like I just did because of him, is so exciting I moan. My fingers scramble blindly on the shelf overhead, until they encounter the crinkly foil. Grabbing it, I tear it open and reach down to put it on him.

He hisses as I tug it down, over his impressive erection.

Then he urges me to lift up, yanks my panties to the side, and sinks inside me.

Oh wow, holy shit. Every time I fight the intrusion, the thickness of him, not sure he’ll fit inside me—then he slips in, slides deep, even deeper, and the pleasure hits.

We both arch back at the same time. His hand drops to my waist, his hips roll up, and I rock on top of him, grabbing his shoulders for leverage. The movement shifts his cock inside me, and I gasp, hot sparks flying up my spine. My breasts tighten, my nipples stiff like pebbles, aching.

I lift a little, lower myself again, and he groans my name. I do it again, rippling around him.

“Yeah. Like that. Fuck.” His fingers tighten on my waist, blunt fingernails digging in a little. “Do it, babe. Lose yourself.”

I’m close. Can’t believe I’m so close again already. Swallowing another moan, I spread my legs more, taking him deeper, and he shudders. He’s close, too, his body tensing up.

“Come for me,” he hisses. “God, I fucking love it when you come on my cock.”

And I come, his words shooting through me like wildfire. Gasping, I clench around him, again. And again. As he grits his teeth and shakes underneath me, his cock jerking inside me, I can only think that I’ve never been so happy in my life.

Not even when I thought I’d become a first class ballet dancer.

Nothing compares to being with Seth and somehow I know nothing ever will.

***

I’m not allowed into the room when he meets with his mom. I wait outside, in my car, with my ereader and a cup of Starbucks latte. Trying in vain to focus on the words on the screen and read the novel I started last week.

Yeah, no way. Can’t remember a single thing I’ve read in the past hour. Hopeless. So I get out of the car and pace in the parking lot, jumping up and down to get warm.

I’m… stressed. Okay, in fact I’m scared. Scared of what this meeting might do to Seth. Can’t imagine how hard it must be to reconcile his feelings about his mom. His love for her, his sadness, the anger that consumed him for years, the bitterness that seeped into his mind… How did her confession change the way he sees her?

And as if that isn’t complicated enough, what she tells him now, how she reacts may change things all over again.

I always thought it unfair my mom’s gone so far away from me, that I was practically left with one parent in the world. These past weeks have changed the way I look at my life. Now I’m grateful I know both my parents love me. That at least one of them is supportive and present.

When Seth finally comes out of the jail house, I run to him, catch his hands. I mean to ask him how it went, but the look on his face isn’t clear, so I just wrap my arms around him and we stand there, in the gray early September afternoon.

“Okay?” I whisper after a while, pulling back.

“Okay.” He gives me a ghost of a smile.

I don’t ask what she said, what he answered. His good arm snakes around my waist, and we walk back to my car in silence. I don’t expect him to talk about what happened at the prison.

So I’m a bit shocked when he does.

“It was fucking strange, seeing her.” He shifts in his seat, awkwardly pulling the seatbelt on as I start the engine. “I mean, in my dreams she hasn’t changed, but she looks old now. Too thin, too…bitter. You can see it in her face.”

“She did bad things,” I mutter. “Makes sense.”

“She insists she didn’t think much about me and Shane—for years. Fucking years. Always high on one drug or another. Never living in the present.” His good hand taps on his leg, fingers drumming. “Trying to escape the truth, I guess.”

I reach over, squeeze his hand. “Yeah.”

“She apologized. As if her apologies could cut it. Dammit.” He knocks his elbow into the window. “She has no idea.”

God, can’t bear to hear him so sad. “Maybe we shouldn’t have come.”

“No.” He sighs. “No, it was good. I’m glad I saw her.”

“Really? Should I believe you?”

He sends me a quick smile. “Yeah. Put some ghosts to rest. And she said…” He swallows, the knot in his throat bobbing. “Said she loves me. Maybe it’s bullshit, you know? Maybe it means nothing to her, but it does to me. Needed to hear it.”

I get that. And then I think to myself, if he could do this, find the courage to face his demons, then I can damn well call my mom and tell her about the change in my studies.

Comes with the territory of being the girl of one of the bravest people I know.

***

“Whatcha doing, babe? Isn’t it too early for coffee?”

Seth has me cornered against the kitchen counter, trapping me with his hips and his one good arm. Can’t believe the action this kitchen has seen in the past weeks. This apartment.

This body. This heart.

I turn against him, our bodies aligning, pressing together, his hard length digging into my stomach.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I whisper.

The only light on is a small lamp on the kitchen table. Outside the window, dawn hasn’t broken yet.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

I smile up at him. “Nothing’s wrong. My mind was too busy to let me sleep, I guess.”

“Busy with what?”

“Everything that has happened. The changes in my life.” I wink at him. “You.”

“So I’m the one not letting you sleep?” He seems pleased by that. Maybe it’s because I rise on tiptoe to kiss him. “I can help you take your mind off things,” he whispers.

“Hm-mm.” I brush my mouth over his, and he groans.

“Fuck, babe.” He grabs my hip, pushes me up until I’m sitting on the counter. Then he tugs on my sleeping shorts and panties, tearing a seam in the process.

I don’t care. All I care about are his hands on me, his desire for me. He’s lifting my top now, and I raise my arms, helping him get it off me.

“Perfect,” he breathes. He pushes down his briefs and his hard-on bumps against my hip. “So sexy.”

I wrap my legs around his lean hipbones, my arms around his neck, and grin at him. “Hi, handsome.”

“So you think I’m handsome?”

Like he has to ask. “Yep. And hot. And amazing in every way.” I lick my lips when his eyes turn dark with arousal and something else, something that looks like joy. “Take me. Need you.”

“Fuck, yeah.” He grabs his cock, tugs on it, eyes half-closing. “Are you mine?”

“Only yours.”

“And I’m yours, babe.” He’s breathing heavily now. After a few more tugs, he releases himself and reaches for something on top of the fridge.

I laugh. “That your new stashing place?”

“Laugh all you want.” He grunts as he tears the foil package open with his teeth and drags the condom on. “While you still can.”

“Sounds like a threat.” My core clenches. I bury my fingers in the fine hair at the back of his neck, tug lightly.

He licks at my mouth. “Not a threat. A promise.”

His cock slides against my belly, then he guides it lower, between my legs. Drags it over my opening, pushes inside an inch.

“Oh God.” I hold on to him. It’s hot. It’s delicious. “Yes.”

Need more.

As if reading my mind, he pushes deeper, a long, world-shattering slide of hard, hot flesh into my spasming core.

Holy crap. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this—the thrill of having him inside me, his pleasure shuddering through his strong body, his need for me—and mine for him. His cock filling me up, taking me high, his mouth on mine, his scent all around me.

This melding of bodies and souls that gets to me every single time when I’m with him.

He sinks home, and his eyes flutter closed. He braces his good arm on the counter and his powerful shoulders tremble as he tries to control himself, not pound into me without restraint.

But I want him to do it. Need it.

“Show me what you want,” he breathes. “Show me, Manon.”

So I do. Not just what I like, what I want—but who I love: him, and nobody else. He’s everything I need.

Tightening my hold around his neck, I pull his head down and kiss him, really kiss him, like he taught me. The way I want him. The way I love him. Deep. Hard. Demanding.

Wanting.

He grunts, kissing me back, and starts rocking faster. My heels dig into his hard ass as the pressure builds inside me. We’re still kissing, tongues tangled, lips locked when it happens—when the dam breaks and the pleasure crests, breaking me to pieces, turning me inside out.

He moans in my mouth, thrusting once, twice, then he hunches over me as he comes apart, shaking and jolting in my core, sending through me aftershocks of pleasure.

We cling to each other, panting, trying to catch our breath. I run my fingers through his silky, dark hair, amazed that I’m with this amazing guy. That he wants me, and loves me, and that we have each other.

The light outside is brightening. A new day is breaking.

“Hey.” His voice is raspy. He’s still inside me, we’re still connected, and I bite my lip not to moan when he shifts, drawing back just enough to look into my face. “What’s on your mind now?”

“You,” I tell him truthfully. “Only you.”

Now and always.