Damaged Hearts, Book 3

by Monica Murphy

  Rhett takes my hand, joining me on the bed. He’s on his knees as well, his hands going to rest lightly by my neck, his fingers sprawled, gently stroking across my collarbone. “You are truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says reverently, just before he dips his head and presses his warm, damp lips to the spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

  I toss my head back and close my eyes, reveling in the feeling of his hands on me, his mouth on my skin. I want to savor every moment of this. It hurts to think I could’ve lost it, lost him. I almost did.

  He loves me. And I love him. Those confusing, overwhelming feelings I couldn’t put a name on, they were love. My love for Rhett. How sad that I couldn’t quite identify them, that I didn’t know what was going on inside of me. It felt like a tumultuous storm, rising up and up and up, trying its best to take me over, sweeping me under. I fought and struggled at first, as if I was going to drown, and now I realize I went about this the wrong way.

  I should’ve let the tidal wave of emotions sweep over me and take me under. I should’ve enjoyed the fall.

  Rhett kisses his way up my neck, along my jaw, until his lush mouth is pressed against mine. Our lips connect, and the kiss turns carnal in an instant, wet lips and velvety tongues. He’s leaning me back onto the bed, his big, hot body over mine, his hands braced on either side of my head. He shifts downward and kisses my breasts, licks and sucks my nipples, making me wet, making me restless.

  Driving me wild.

  “I wanted to make this last,” he breathes against my skin. “But I can’t wait. I want to be inside you.”

  “Yes, please,” I tell him with a little laugh, and he lifts his head to meet my gaze with a smile. “We can make it last another time. Just…”

  I don’t get to finish my sentence. He’s too busy pulling my panties off, then shoving his own underwear off. Until we’re totally naked and he’s thrusting his erection against me, teasing me. I spread my legs wider, reaching for him, guiding him toward me, and when he slips inside, we both moan at the sensation of our bodies forging together into one.

  “I will never get tired of this,” he says as he starts to move. In. Out. A slow, delicious glide that makes me close my eyes, totally lost in the sensation of our bodies making love. I never thought it could be like this. Never thought it could be so good with someone.

  With Rhett, it’s better than anything in the world.

  “Promise?” I whisper.

  He’s already increasing his pace, ramping up the friction, making the heat spark hotter, higher between us. “For you? Always.”

  I lose all coherent thought, my ability to form actual words, the harder he thrusts inside me. I wrap my arms around him, clinging to him, letting him sweep me away, and when the familiar tingles start low in my belly, I know my orgasm is close.

  And so is his. Within seconds, we’re coming together, a first for us, and when it’s all over and I’m lying in his arms, both of us sweaty and exhausted and unable to stop touching each other, I am finally able to form sentences once again.

  “That was fast.”

  He bursts out laughing, burying his face in my hair. “Way to stroke my ego.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be insulting.” I lift my head, resting my arm on his chest so I can study his perfectly handsome face. “I liked that it happened so fast.”

  He raises a brow, brushing the hair away from my face. “Why?”

  “It shows that you can’t control yourself around me. That you want me so bad, you have to have me right this second.” I smile. “I like that I can make you lose control.”

  “I like that I can make you lose control too.” His fingers linger on my cheek, caressing me there. “You know you’re moving in here, right.”

  He doesn’t say it like a question. More like a statement. “I am?”

  “Yes.” He nods. “No more staying at Savannah’s house. I want you here. All the time.”

  His gentle command makes me want to beam with happiness. “What about Chad?”

  “What about him?”

  “I’m taking away your bachelor pad status for good.” I bite my lip, trying to act like I care. I don’t mind Chad. But I would love for him to eventually move out and for us to have the house all to ourselves.

  “His lease is up in the spring. We’ll kick him out then,” Rhett reassures me.

  “You own the house, right?”

  “I do.”

  I’m not comfortable talking about finances with Rhett. And it’s probably going to take a while for me to be comfortable with it. Or maybe I never will, who knows. “Is it the only house you own?”

  “In my name? Yes. Once I graduate college and figure out what I want to do, then I’ll buy a house wherever we end up.”

  I love, love, love how he uses the word we. That will never get old. “What do you want to do?”

  “You know what? I don’t have a clue.” He chuckles and tugs me closer. “That probably makes me a dumbass.”

  “No, I think that makes you a guy with a lot of opportunities in front of you, and you’re lucky that you can make a choice,” I say softly.

  His laughter dies. “You’re right. Thank you for putting it in perspective.”

  “No problem.”

  We’re silent for a while, Rhett playing with my hair, me stroking my fingernails lightly along his chest, making goose bumps rise. I could touch him like this for hours. For days. I wonder if he feels the same.

  “Did you ever hear from your father?” I finally ask.

  “Yeah. He texted me earlier, right before I got to City Lights. Said that he talked to Diane, and she denied everything. All of it. About Craig, about Park” He hesitates and my heart starts to pound. I’m scared of what he’s going to say. “She said she didn’t believe you.”

  “She didn’t believe what?” My voice shakes. This is such a big moment, yet it also feels very, very small.

  “That you’re her daughter. She told my father she never had a daughter.”

  “She actually said that?” I thought it would hurt more, to hear that she denied me. But for some reason, it doesn’t. His words, her denial, it’s all…

  Meaningless.

  Oh, I can admit I experience a small twinge, hearing Rhett say it, and it’s frustrating, how she can so easily deny everything she’s ever done.

  But most important of all, her denial doesn’t hurt. Diane will most likely deny my existence for the rest of her life. She will probably never want to be in a room with me again. That might make for some awkward family encounters, but for once in my life, I don’t care. I don’t care what she thinks of me, I don’t care what she’s doing, and I don’t care that she won’t be a part of my life.

  That’s all thanks to Rhett.

  “Dad kicked her out of the house. Told her she couldn’t live with him anymore and promised he would file for divorce by the end of the year,” he continues.

  “Is she going to take him for all he’s worth?” I’m sure she will. She’s greedy. Always has been.

  “Nah. Dad had her sign an iron-clad prenuptial agreement right before they got married. She’ll be paid well, but she won’t take half of everything. He guaranteed that.”

  “Your father is a very smart man,” I murmur against his chest.

  He stirs beneath me, suddenly restless. Suddenly hard. “Let’s stop talking about my dad.”

  I slip my hand downward, seeking and finding his erect cock. “Oh? Why do you say that?”

  “Let’s do other—things.” He chokes out the last word when I stroke him from base to tip.

  “What do you have in mind?” He’s rock hard yet velvety soft. I smooth my thumb over the tip of him, catching the wetness there. “I can’t believe you’re ready to go again.”

  “It’s all your fault.” He moves fast, flipping me over so I’m on my back and he’s hovering above me once more. “Maybe this time around I’ll make it last.”

  “Please do,” I murmur, closing my eyes when he
shifts downward, his mouth on my stomach, his hands braced against my inner thighs, spreading me wide. I bite my lower lip, loving those tender kisses across my belly, sucking in a surprised breath when his mouth lands on my wet center. His tongue searches my folds as he slips a finger deep within me, and holy God, he’s going to make me come so fast I might faint.

  If it’s always going to be like this between us, I’m afraid he might end up killing me.

  But I guess death by good sex is a pretty great way to go.

  Jensen

  “I bet you didn’t expect me to be here, did you?”

  Diane whips around at my words, her expression one of pure shock for all of about a second before it’s replaced with cool indifference. “What are you doing in my house?”

  I’ve been waiting for her, for this moment, for what feels like hours. Days.

  Years.

  And now here we are, alone in the Montgomery house, with no one around for either of us to hide behind. Everything blew up in her face only a few days ago, so the emotions are still raw. The family is broken up, in turmoil, Parker angry at his wife and oldest son, and Rhett angry at his brother.

  Me? I’m trying my best to stay neutral, but it’s difficult. I want to support Rhett, but I also want to get my digs in. That cliché rings true.

  Old habits die hard.

  We’re in the living room, Diane and I. The curtains are drawn, the room is dark, even though it’s early in the afternoon. I rise from the couch and start to approach her. She doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as flinch as I draw near, and I’m reluctantly impressed.

  “This isn’t your house anymore,” I tell her, glee filling me at the flicker of irritation I spot in her gaze when I speak.

  What I say is true. She doesn’t live with Parker any longer. The only reason she’s here is to pick up a few of her belongings while no one else is around. I saw texts between her and Addie last night, when I was hanging out with Addie at Rhett’s house while he was at basketball practice. We were binge watching a show on Netflix, munching on popcorn when I noticed someone kept blowing up Addie’s phone with endless texts. She caught me looking over her shoulder, and funny enough, she was the one who ended up feeling guilty.

  “Diane wants her stuff,” Addie told me with a defensive shrug. “So I’m letting her know when the house is empty.”

  “Won’t your father be angry?” I asked her softly.

  “Probably, but I don’t know what else to do. She won’t leave me alone,” Addie confessed. “I figured this is the only way I can get her off my back.”

  That’s why I’m at the house. The opportunity was handed to me, and I couldn’t pass it up. The old me would’ve jumped all over this chance, yet the new me said I didn’t need to waste my time. I didn’t need to get revenge on my mother. She’d ruined everything on her own.

  But guess what? The old me won.

  Rhett doesn’t know I’m here. No one knows, except Diane.

  Who’s she going to tell?

  “It isn’t your house either,” Diane says snottily, and I shake my head, already frustrated by our conversation.

  None of this matters. She knows why I want to talk to her. It’s definitely not to go ’round and ’round over who belongs here. We have bigger things to discuss.

  Like why I haven’t heard from her for the last nineteen years or so.

  “Why did you do it?” I ask, cutting right to the chase.

  “Do what?” She blinks at me. Either she knows how to play dumb really well, or she’s being purposely obtuse.

  “Why did you abandon me? Why did you abandon my father?” I take a step closer, vaguely surprised that we’re the same height. Though I guess I shouldn’t be. I’m reminded that we do have some things in common, now that I’m standing so close to her. We have similarly colored eyes and hair, though hers is brighter, thanks to expensive highlights. Similarly shaped nose.

  She’s not in her usual heels and elegant designer clothes, her hair sleek and her makeup perfect. Instead her hair is in a ponytail, and she only has on lip-gloss. She’s wearing a black velour sweat suit, like the ones that were popular about ten years ago, though what she currently has on is definitely designer. I can tell by the J zipper dangling between her breasts. Of course it’s Juicy Couture. High-end is the name of her game.

  I wouldn’t expect Diane Montgomery to wear anything less.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She lifts her chin, the very picture of defiance. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things I need to do.”

  Diane tries to push past me but I grab her arm, my fingers clamping tight. She struggles, which only makes my hold grow stronger. “There’s no one here you need to impress,” I tell her. “You can be real with me, Mother.”

  She yanks her arm out of my grip and takes a step back, her eyes wild. “Don’t ever call me that.”

  “Truth hurts, right?” I wondered why Rhett didn’t react to me saying my last name, and I just found out it’s because Diane was using her maiden name when she first met Parker. Makes me wonder if I needed to change my name at all. Was that a waste of time? Was it a waste of time to try and get to her through Rhett?

  Definitely not. Never in a million years did I think I’d fall in love with him, or that he would fall in love with me.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Diane says as she starts to make her way toward the staircase. “I don’t have a daughter.”

  Her words enrage me, despite telling myself none of this matters. It does. It still hurts, what she did to me, and to my father.

  I follow after her, our feet pounding as I chase her up the stairs. “Was it really that easy? To just forget about me and pretend I didn’t exist? Because I never forgot about you. And trust me, I tried so hard.”

  At the top of the stairs she turns to face me, her expression one of pure fury. “I wouldn’t have been a good mother to you.”

  I’m taken aback by her words. Her subtle acknowledgement of me seems to fly right over my head. All I can focus on is what she just said. “What do you mean?”

  “Your father was always criticizing me. Saying I didn’t love him enough, I didn’t love you enough. I would give and give and all he did was take and take. Same with you. Every day it was the same thing, over and over again. I didn’t have a life. I had you and your father to take care of, and at the end of the day, there was nothing left for me. I always felt so drained and scared,” Diane explains.

  “Scared?” I ask incredulously. “Scared of what?”

  “Of my life! I knew if I stayed there, I wouldn’t amount to anything. Your father had no aspirations, no goals, no focus. He didn’t want to better himself for his family. He liked his life just the way it was.”

  And my mother didn’t. That much is clear.

  “I knew I was trapped, but I had no one to turn to,” she continues. “Your father isolated me. I had no other family. No friends. Just you and him, and that wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough. One night we got into a huge fight, and I couldn’t take it anymore. So I did what I thought was best.”

  “You thought it was best to leave me behind?” My voice is shaking and I clear my throat, frustrated by my weak show of emotion. For once, I wish I were as callous and hard as my mother.

  “I left your father. If I stayed there, he would’ve ruined me. I couldn’t take the risk.” She sniffs, like she’s emotional or something, though I see no trace of tears anywhere. “You were just collateral damage.”

  Her casual statement should hurt enough to draw blood. But it’s like her words trigger a realization deep within me. One I should’ve had a long time ago, but was too blinded by hate and vengeance to see it.

  I don’t matter.

  I never mattered.

  At least to her.

  “Collateral damage,” I repeat tonelessly.

  She nods, her expression downright hopeful. “And look at you now. You’ve found Rhett. He’s rich. Handsome. He�
��ll be successful, just like his father. It’s in their blood. If you play it right, he’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. You’ll be fine.” She says this with total assuredness.

  “Does that make you feel better? Knowing that I have Rhett? That he’ll take care of me?” I ask. What a messed up way to think. Does she really feel justified in abandoning me when I was a baby, but now everything’s okay because I have a super-hot, rich boyfriend who’ll take care of me?

  “Yes. Of course it makes me feel better. Just make sure of one thing.” She leans in, as if we have a close relationship and she’s about to share a bit of advice with me. “Never return any gift he gives you. Keep any cash he gives you too. Stow it away, just in case. And if you marry, make sure you have a solid prenuptial agreement, one where you get everything you deserve, which, by the way, is half. I’d suggest no prenup at all, but this is the Montgomerys we’re dealing with, so that won’t happen. Just—no matter what, guard your assets.”

  Her advice could be taken as somewhat caring, but really? When it comes down to it? It’s all about the money. Everything’s a business deal to this woman. There’s no emotion, no love, no hate, no nothing. I almost feel sorry for her.

  Almost.

  She feels nothing. And being with her, talking with her, is making me feel nothing too. It’s like my anger has disappeared.

  “I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doing,” I tell her as I start walking toward the stairs. I’m halfway down before I hear her voice.

  “Wait a minute.”

  I stop and turn to look up at her. She’s standing at the top of the staircase, her eyebrows furrowed, like I’ve totally confused her. “Is that all you wanted to say?” she asks.

  I think about it for a moment, but nothing comes to me. There’s nothing left to say. “Yes.”

  Diane makes a face. “Really? No raging confrontation or plans of revenge?”

  Just thinking about my earlier rage and revenge plans leaves me mentally exhausted. “I’m over it.”

  “Over it?” She raises a brow.

  “How can I care when you so clearly don’t?” I wave a dismissive hand at her, at a total loss for words.