She touches her forehead with a finger and flicks at me. Much like Armand did. Have they been hanging out?
Jealousy snarls through me but I push it aside to process what she’s saying. “You were drugged.” I can’t believe I didn’t guess it before now. Maybe I am as slow as Armand insinuated.
“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’. “You get one guess as to who did it.”
“Adam.” I straighten in the doorway. My hands come up as if grabbing an imaginary man to rip apart. “I'll kill him.” I told myself I was going to that engagement party to protect her but all I did was leave her vulnerable. All I could see was my stupid revenge and he, he—
Daphne rises too and approaches me without fear. “That’s not the whole story. After you and I had our little conversation, I got news that my dad was dying. I had no idea his health had gotten so bad. Adam didn’t want me to know.”
“What?” I feel my face and neck flaming red. Like gasoline poured on my rage.
“It didn’t work. I talked to dad before he died.” She cups my face in her hands. Her touch calms the Beast. “Logan, he told me he was sorry for how things turned out. For what he and Adam did to you.”
“He...did?”
And the blows just keep coming. I barely get my balance before another blow all but knocks me off my feet.
“He did.” Her voice is gentle. Kind. “Unfortunately it was too late for me to get more details, so I could get proof or a confession against Adam, but if we dig, I bet we can find it.”
We?
My heart leaps. She’s talking about the future. Our future. But I failed her, over and over. How can she—?
“So that’s everything that happened,” she says, “until Tuesday happened.”
“What happened Tuesday?” Fuck, I’m not sure how much more I can take.
“That’s when I met with the board. They voted me out. But I still gave them copies of this.” She spins around to dig in her bag until she comes up with a sheet of paper, neatly folded.
I snatch it and read it with my phone’s flashlight. “You...resigned?”
“Yep.” Her voice turns more serious. “I have nothing, Logan. Not a thing. Just two dead parents, my degrees, and the Avicennius grant. Except that I sent you those two pieces of paper. So, technically, nothing. I have nothing, Logan.” She doesn’t look sad or bitter. She looks… calm. At peace. “I’m finally free. Completely free.” She flops her arms outwards. “It only took losing everything,” she laughs.
It doesn’t change the fact that she’s squatting in the ruined shell of her childhood home. Like a homeless person. Even in my great coat, she looks cold.
I’ve been the world’s biggest asshole.
This, in front of me, is my Daphne, the same as she ever was. Innocent of the world’s malice. Pure in all the ways that matter. She wasn’t trying to play rivals against one another or win fame or fortune. She has nothing and yet she still manages to be happy. And after everything I did, she can still look in my monster’s face and without batting an eye tell me she loves me.
She’s a fucking angel gracing this earth in a sexy-as-sin body.
“Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that. Thank you for coming.” She pats the pockets of my coat, pulls out the papers and the rose. “I had a hell of the time convincing Armand to leave me here. He made me swear up and down I’d call him if you didn’t show up.”
“I’ll call him,” I say quickly.
“Are you jealous of Armand? Don’t be.” She lays everything on the table, then pulls on a pair of gloves. They look too large, but at least it’s something. She still looks cold, though. I don’t like it.
“You can’t stay here,” I say gruffly.
She raises a brow. “You’re kicking me out?”
“Yes… No! I’m not kicking you out. I mean, you should be at the castle, with me.”
“You hurt me, Logan.” Just a whisper, and it’s a dagger through my chest. I stumble back and lean against the door frame so I don’t fall to my knees.
“I know.” I tear a hand through my hair. My face feels naked without the mask. “I don’t trust easy. Or at all.”
“You haven’t had reason to,” she murmurs.
“No, don’t do that.” I point at her. “Don’t make excuses for me. I’m a monster.”
“You’re my monster.” She sways forward slowly, carefully, as if approaching a wild animal.
“I don’t know what I can do to earn your forgiveness.” I can’t believe all this time I was trying to make her prove her love and devotion to me, when I should have been begging at her feet the entire time.
“You don’t have to earn my love, Logan. I’m giving it to you.”
And I sink to my knees. “Daphne.”
She kneels and hugs me, snuggling her head to my chest. Her weight over my heart...it’s everything.
“I gave everything up for you,” she whispers. “Belladonna. The patents…I’m not with you for them. I’ve let them all go. I want you for you.”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” She’s breaking me, doesn’t she realize that? No one ever wants me. I’m a shit. I’m worthless. My own mom didn’t think I was worth sticking around for. No foster family ever wanted me. Even Dr. Laurel threw me away when I became inconvenient.
There’s no way this goddess could actually want the dirty little boy whose mom couldn’t even remember to feed him.
But she clutches my face and forces me to look her in the eyes.
“You woke me up. I get to live my life starting now. And I choose you.” She shivers, and I stop fighting my protective impulses and wrap her up in my arms. Or maybe I need it as much as she does. I need to hold her and feel that she’s real. I still can’t believe that happiness like this could actually be in reach for someone like me.
“Stay with me, Logan,” she whispers and I hold her tighter. “I don’t know who I am, or what I’m going to do, or where I’m going, but I want you. Not because of the patents. Not because of our past. Because of who you are …and who we could be.”
Thirty-Seven
Present Day
Daphne
The creaking floor wakes me. I blink in the honeyed morning light.
I haven’t slept this well since…since the last time Logan held me until I fell asleep. The bed is warm but he’s not beside me.
The lights are on. Huh. I squint and look around. My bedroom’s wallpaper is still faded, but the floor is swept clean...and everything smells like lemon cleanser. I sit up and that’s when I notice that I’m not lying on a pile of curtains anymore, but a legit mattress hovering off the ground on some sort of frame. And I’m super warm because I’m wrapped in a brand new looking sleeping bag.
“I thought you’d wake when I moved you to the camp bed, but you must have been tired,” Logan says from the door. I grin at the deep sound of his voice and look his way.
And damn, he’s fine. He’s dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt instead of the suit from last night. He’s holding a bunch of roses. And when I catch his gaze, well, let me tell you, I feel it all the way down to my lady bits.
“Are those for me?” I ask, pulling the sleeping bag up to my chin, feeling ridiculously shy and terribly happy all at the same time.
“Always.” He sits carefully on the edge of the bed and hands them to me. I immediately bury my face in the flowers.
“A bit early for these to bloom.”
“I had them delivered from my greenhouse. Along with…” he leans down and reaches into a giant hamper of food beside the bed. I gape at the full picnic spread laid out on a big plaid blanket. There’s even a mini propane stove with a shiny stovetop espresso maker.
“Oh my gods, Logan. Are we glamping?” I look up at him, excited.
Everything has just been so damn heavy lately. But after last night’s reconciliation…I have to say, I adore the playful spark in Logan’s eyes. I can’t remember the last time I saw it. He seems totally open, finally nothing held back
. The boy I once knew in the body of the man I love.
He shrugs and uncaps a bottle of sparkling water. “Just until this place gets cleaned up. I turned the electricity back on. The water, too.” He takes the roses back and trades me the water bottle.
“I wanted you to wake up surrounded by roses. The garden’s overgrown, but I’ve made arrangements for gardeners and contractors to come. They’ll fix this place. I’ll fix everything.”
I lay my hand on his stubble roughed jaw. He turns his face and kisses my palm.
“You want to live here?” My laugh bounces between the bare walls. Only they’re not so bare, because he’s found the old frame for my diploma and awards, and rehung them.
“If you want. Daphne, I’ll give you everything. Just...come back to me.”
* * *
Logan
She’s looking at me with the whole world in her eyes. “Daphne?” I can’t bring myself to repeat my plea. I can only hope she’ll say yes.
“Silly man,” she says, “I never left.”
My exhale is half groan. I don’t move, afraid to break this moment. Afraid it will shatter. I’ll wake up from this dream.
“Daphne.” Her name is a light and I’m a lost man, staggering towards salvation.
“Logan. I choose you. I love you.”
Her words send electricity shooting through my body. I’ll never get tired of her saying that. In fact I think I’ll make her say it about a thousand times every day, and maybe two thousand times a day on the weekends. This sleeping bag is brand new, but it’s in the way. I rip it open to free her. I need to be inside her...now.
Daphne lets off peals of laughter, like little bells. Gods, she’s adorable. “What’s the rush? We have time.”
“Need you,” I grunt, dragging off my jeans. She has no idea. The fact that I managed to leave her alone last night was a miracle.
Daphne stretches out on the mattress. I ease her panties off and lean in to kiss her flat stomach. My dick is so hard it might split, but I catch a whiff of her perfume, and I can’t resist climbing down her body and burying my face in her muff.
“Logan, ah, Logan,” she chants. Her hands bat at my shoulders and I capture them, pinning them down. One more taste. Just one more. And another. I swipe my tongue over her fragrant pussy, long, lingering drags to savor all her sweetness. Doesn’t she understand? I need to devour her. I need to convince myself she’s real. She’s mine and she’s real and she’s here and this is actually happening and this can be forever—
Her body bows off the bed as far as I’ll let it. Her cries of pleasure crash around me and still I delve my tongue into her folds, chasing her essence. Fuck, I love her taste and watching her absolutely lose it.
“Give it to me,” I order when she protests it’s too much. “Now, Daphne. I want it all.”
Her slender legs shake and drum on my back as my tongue sends her body higher and higher. When she finally lies limp, I rise up and climb gingerly onto the camp bed. I rush ordered the frame and mattress so Daphne wouldn’t spend another night on the floor, but it’s way too spindly for my weight.
I’m shaking as I guide myself in between her legs. No bells or whistles this time. I just need my body connected to hers. I need the intimacy and to just bury myself in her. So deep, I want to disappear inside her. And Daphne is just as eager, urging me on with breathy pleas and little kisses that make me grit my teeth so I don’t blow too soon.
As I rock into position, the camp bed crashes to the floor. Shit!
“Logan!” Daphne is laughing so hard, tears stream from her eyes.
“Fucking piece of crap,” I mutter, arms around her body to protect her from the wreckage.
“We killed it,” Daphne cackles, curling into my arms and lifting her hands to clutch around my neck.
“I was trying to be gentle.” I lift her off the ruined bed and kick the mattress away from the frame so I can lay her back down.
Her laughter subsides, leaving a soft expression that makes me ache. “I don’t want gentle.” Her fingers trace my stubbled jaw, feeling for the scars underneath. She smiles when she finds them, as if they’re a secret we share between us. “I want you. I’m strong, Logan.”
“I know you are.” I sip at her perfect lips. Gods, this woman is so perfect. So beautiful. So fuckin’ smart.
I cup her smooth buttocks and draw her close. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you’re mine.”
“Always,” she begs. “Always.”
I ease into her. She’s so small and tight, and I’m too big. Moans hum in her chest, but her lithe calf twined around my back tugs me closer. I cup her face and nibble on her lips, rewarding her as she stretches around me slowly. Finally, finally I’m seated inside her.
“Give it to me, Logan,” she whispers. “I want it all.”
Oh, I’ll give it to her. But on my timeline, my way. The woman’s already made me lose my head. Besides, this coming back together means something to me and I want her to know that.
So I pin her in place with my cock, exactly where I like her, and I give her my truth. “I love you. I’ve loved you since you were eighteen and we spent all those summer days at the beach talking—”
She squeezes around me. “You mean you spent all those hours ogling me in my red bikini.”
“Vixen.”
I grin and grab her wrists, pinning them over her head. I notch my thigh between her legs, bearing down against her sensitive spot until she groans my name.
“That damn red bikini.” I shake my head. “I still haven’t punished you for teasing me like that all that summer, have I?”
She stretches up and nips me on the jaw with her teeth. Somebody’s feeling playful.
But then she pulls back and goes serious again. “I can’t believe my dream finally came true,” she whispers. “I can’t believe Logan Wulfe actually loves me back.”
How am I supposed to have any control after she says something like that? I don’t bother even trying. I thrust inside her, giving us what we are both craving, and we moan in tandem.
Pleasure flashes up my sides, unknots my spine, nearly blinds me. There’s no holding back after that. I saw in and out of her perfect, tight entrance, making sure to grind against her clit with each pass.
“Harder.” Her nails dig into my shoulders. “Harder!”
She’s the perfect woman made flesh. I ram her so hard the mattress hits the wall. The frames above us shudder, but the screws I used hold.
She starts to shatter around me.
“I’m gonna give you everything, Daphne. Every hope. Every dream.” I roll my hips, prolonging each thrust, and tears stream from her eyes. Tears of joy.
Her body stiffens, her pussy massaging my cock as she cums over and over. And as I cum, I make a vow.
To be hers. To be Daphne’s. She knows all my evil desires, how I lust to hurt the ones I love. My past, my present, my wickedness. She’s walked every twisting turn of the labyrinth and come out the other side.
And still she loves me. She chose me.
My vision blurs and I blink my eyes to clear them. The view isn’t great—four dirty walls of this dilapidated room but I’m seeing them fresh.
With Daphne, I can have it all. A life. A full heart. A family.
For the second time in my life, I’ve come home.
Thirty-Eight
Present Day
Daphne
“So what about Adam?” I ask. I hate to break the mood, but I can’t take any more sex. Not after Mr. Insatiable ate me a second time, and flipped me over to pound me from behind. This poor mattress is done for.
“What about him?” Logan’s voice is level, but his body hardens to a block of stone. I massage his neck, but it’s like trying to get granite to relax.
I rise up and lean into his back, blowing into his ear. His shoulders ease a fraction.
“I think he should pay for what he’s done,” I murmur into one ear, and switch to the other. Just like being with Logan has ta
ught me not to deny any of who I am, I don’t want to deny any of who Logan is. At the same time… “But I don’t want you to end up in jail for homicide.”
“It won’t be homicide. I want him to suffer.”
“I thought I was the only one you tortured.” I pretend to pout. Let’s keep this light. “Are you telling me this isn’t exclusive?”
“What I do to you isn’t torture,” he says as I nibble on his ear. “You like it too much.”
“Maybe I should torture you…”
With a sudden move, he twists and pulls me onto his lap. “Little seductress. Trying to change my mind with your wiles?”
“It it working?” I wriggle in his lap. “Feels like it.” His boner is the size of a tree. There’s so much good here. I don’t want to let Adam or anyone else to ruin it.
He lets me grind on his lap for about a second longer, then maneuvers me until I’m flat on my back with his big body caging me. My pussy is sopping, my breath coming in pants, ready for his claiming, but he stills.
“Daphne, I can’t change who I am.” He says, echoing my thoughts. His eyes search mine, pleading.
I know what he’s saying. He can’t give up his revenge. He won’t. Not even for me? asks little voice in my head. But that’s not fair. I’m not in his shoes and I can’t fathom going through what he went through at Adam’s hands.
So I give a tiny nod. As long as we’re together and none of his actions involve him being taken from me? I’m on his side, always. He sighs and hugs me, holding his body off me so I’m not crushed. I kiss his neck. Maybe he’s not ready to forgive and forget, like I am, but baby steps.
Holding each other like this inevitably leads us back to the—now broken, but when has that ever stopped anyone—bed. His touch drives me insane. I can’t get enough.
When we’re done making love for the third time, he tests the faucet for hot water. With a steaming face cloth he wipes down my body carefully. He pays special attention to my breasts.
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