by Aly Martinez
I held her gaze as I swore, “There is nothing in this world that I will not do to protect you two. And, if you think for one second that I can’t do it, you are highly underestimating the depths of my selfishness when it comes to you and your girl.”
I shouldn’t have done it.
Not even two hours ago, she’d had a complete mental breakdown.
But she was so fucking close.
Her mouth inches away from mine.
Her sweet breath mingling with mine.
Her soft breasts pressed against my chest and her heated core resting against my zipper, only two layers of denim dividing us.
Three months of tension in desperate need of release.
Three months of anxiety making me weak.
Before I could stop myself, I dipped my head and caught her mouth. It was meant to be gentle. It didn’t stay that way.
Her mouth opened hastily, her tongue snaking out to tangle with mine. I groaned as her fingers threaded into the back of my hair and she slanted her head, taking me deeper.
A kiss wasn’t taking? Right?
Now, if I stripped her naked and buried myself inside her, that would be a little different. I wanted her fiercely, but I had the strength to control myself.
At least that’s what I’d told myself—until she hooked her leg around my hip and ground against me.
“Fuck,” I bit out.
I did not have the strength for that.
“Clare, wait,” I mumbled.
She didn’t. She rolled to the side, pulling me with her until she was straddling my hips. Her mouth disappeared but only long enough for her to peel her pale-purple sweater over her head and toss it off the side of the bed.
Her round breasts thrust toward me as she reached around to undo the hook at her back.
If she got that bra off, I was done for. I would be inside her without any further conversation or consideration.
Entire fucking armies didn’t have that kind of strength.
“Jesus. Wait.” He gripped my shoulders to still me, but his eyes drifted down to my chest.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, wiggling in his grasp.
Something had happened inside me when his lips had met mine. A hunger I hadn’t felt in years had surged through me.
Passion. Longing. Desire.
I could barely remember a time when I’d wanted Walt to touch me.
But, with a single taste, I needed Heath—everywhere.
His mouth.
His fingers.
His length, swelling between my legs as his eyes focused on my nipples, which were peaking beneath the thin, white cotton of my bra.
I wished it had been something sexier. Something deserving of his appraisal. Maybe one of those little nighties hanging in the closet. But, if he noticed my bra at all, he didn’t let on. His eyes were dark, and his fingers bit into the flesh of my shoulders as if he were clinging to the edge of self-control.
An edge I desperately needed him to let go of.
I folded down, mumbling against his lips, “Heath, please.”
As I circled my hips over his cock, he groaned, “You’re killing me here.”
“Ask me the question,” I whispered, palming either side of his face before taking his mouth again.
His hands slid down to my hips, where he rocked me in his lap. “What question?”
Moving my assault from his mouth to his neck, I traced my tongue up to his ear and then prompted, “What do you need, Clare?” punctuating it by raking my teeth over his earlobe.
His entire body tensed as he moaned his approval with a curse. I glided my hands down to the waistband on his jeans, popping open the button before tugging at the hem of his T-shirt. His arms lifted as I dragged it over his head.
Heat pooled between my legs as his shirt joined mine on the floor.
Heath was beautiful. All raw power and defined muscle. But it was just window dressing for the man hiding inside.
Gentle hands. Kind heart. Gorgeous smile.
My nipples tingled as I traced my finger down the soft, blond trail of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his boxers.
He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. “Clare,” he exhaled.
I kissed over his heart. “Ask me.”
His eyes popped open, uncertainty still lingering in his gaze. “This is a bad—”
I didn’t allow him to finish before I reached back and unfastened my bra, letting it fall down my arms.
His fiery gaze locked on my chest.
“Jesus,” he cursed, but his hands moved to palm my breasts.
My head fell back and my mouth slacked open as sparks fired to my clit, adding to the electricity already roaring within me. “Yes,” I cried, rocking against him.
Sitting all the way up, he swayed me backward in his arms and sucked my nipple between his lips.
I balanced one hand on his thigh, the other threading into his hair, holding him close as he devoured my breast. His tongue swirled and his teeth nipped, growls rumbling in his throat.
He thrust a hand down the back of my jeans, kneading my ass as he ground me against his hard length.
God, I needed him inside me.
“Ask me,” I ordered, giving his hair a sharp tug.
“What do you need, Clare?” he mumbled against my chest.
I smiled victoriously. “You.”
His eyes lifted, an inferno brewing within as he finally gave me the only permission I would ever need. “Then take it.”
I was off the bed, stripping my pants off, before the final syllable had even cleared his lips. He did the same, peeling out of his denim and his boxers. His hand went to his thick cock, stroking as I climbed back onto the bed and straddled him.
His hand caught my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “This is all you, babe. But, just so you know, there is not one thing I don’t want from you.”
I held his stare as I reached between us and brazenly wrapped my palm around his fingers working his shaft.
He glided his hand around to the back of my neck and hauled me toward him. His lips touched mine, the tip of his tongue hitting my bottom lip as he said, “I’m yours, Clare. Take it all.” He moved his fingers between my legs, grazing my clit before pressing inside.
“Yes,” I hissed, releasing him to balance myself with his shoulders.
“You’re wet, babe,” he stated before kissing me with a cocky grin.
I could have told him that. It had happened the second he’d asked me if I trusted him. Never had four simple words been so arousing. And not because he’d said them in that deep baritone that could drive a woman mad. But, rather, because it was the moment when I’d realized that I did trust him. Unequivocally. Completely. Utterly. Mind. Body. And soul.
“I am,” I confirmed breathily.
His finger curled, pressing deeper and causing me to cry out.
“Then guide me home, Clare,” he ordered against my mouth.
Pushing up on my knees, I inched forward. He removed his hand and rested it on my hip, but that was the only move he made. He didn’t urge me down or press up into me as I aligned our bodies. He sat there, impossibly still, his eyes burning into mine, searching my face for any sign of hesitance.
He would find none.
“Kiss me,” I urged, slowly sinking down on his cock, relishing in the way he stretched me.
He groaned into my mouth as a million broken pieces crashed to the floor.
And then I took from Heath. Repeatedly.
I threw my head back and closed my eyes, letting the world around us go and getting lost in him.
His warm mouth on my neck.
His strong hands on my ass.
His hard cock filling me.
Nothing between us.
Not even words.
And he gave with his entire body.
Sex wasn’t going to fix my life. But those minutes of peace when we were joined as one reminded me why it was all worth the fight.
I had no idea how long I’d b
een riding him when he rumbled, “Hurry up, or I’m takin’ over.”
My legs were beginning to ache, and a sheen of sweat covered us both.
But I was in no hurry to find my release.
I could have stayed in that moment forever.
However, his “takin’ over” definitely held some promise.
So I replied, “Take over, honey.”
Tucking my knee under his arm, he flipped us. I lost his cock on the way over, but I gained so much more as his large body covered me.
“You trust me?”
“Always.”
“You sore yet?” he asked, easing back inside me and then draping my legs over his shoulders.
I shook my head,
“That’s about to change,” he declared.
And then.
Heath.
Took.
Over.
Hard and fast. Rough and raw. A man on a mission, my body being his only way home.
“Fuck, Clare,” he growled, driving in and banging the headboard against the wall.
“Yes!” I cried out, my back arching off the bed and my nails raking down his chest as I tried to hold on.
He thoroughly worked me over. His hips bucked, creating a relentless pace as his thumb found my clit and drove me toward the edge. But, as the minutes wore on, I couldn’t step off.
He buried himself at the hilt and growled, “Get out of your head.”
If only it were that easy. He was hitting all the right spots. My body was thrumming with need, but I couldn’t fall.
Falling meant letting go, a novelty I’d never been afforded.
“Heath!” I objected when he suddenly stilled, just the tip of his length nestled inside me.
He shrugged my legs off his shoulders and pressed in slowly as he bent to kiss me. “Give it to me, babe.”
“I was trying,” I complained.
“Then stop trying and give me whatever burden has got you so blocked in your head you can’t even get off.”
I had no fucking idea how to do that. “I…I’m not sure…”
He shook his head and stared deep into my eyes, his thumb trailing over my cheekbone. “Listen to me. That burden is not yours anymore. Internalize it. Accept it. Then let it fucking go and trust me to take care of it. Of you. Of your girl. Of everything. I’ve got you, Clare. From here on out, it’s you and me.”
I blinked. Then blinked again. In a lot of ways, it had always been him and me.
Me and Luke.
Me and Agent Light.
And, now, me and Heath.
Ever since the day I’d met him, he’d taken care of me.
Even when I hadn’t known who he was.
And, at that realization, the strangest thing happened.
I breathed and my lungs weren’t constricted by the vise that had been smothering me for most of my life. Even before Walt.
Warm blood rushed into my veins, not a trace of the chill of reality.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, my pulse slowed and my tunnel vision expanded, which revealed a new dimension of clarity surrounding me.
“Oh my God,” I choked.
“There she is,” he breathed, brushing the sweat-soaked hair off my forehead.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips, unable to get close enough.
“That’s it,” he groaned, his hips beginning to move again.
Slow and shallow this time, but it was more than enough. We’d been going for what felt like forever, but for the way my body reacted, he might as well have been touching me for the very first time.
My release climbed within me, his gentle thrusts coaxing me higher.
“I’ve got you,” he rasped, the muscles on his back flexing as he surged inside me.
“Me and you, Clare.”
A second later, Heath didn’t just take another broken piece of my soul—he took them all.
And I gave them freely, knowing only he had the power to put them back together.
“Heath!” I cried as I fell apart in his arms.
My muscles pulsed around him as he twitched and jerked, emptying inside me, the deep groan of my name on his lips.
I was lying flat on my back as I came down from my orgasmic high, but I knew with absolute certainty that the Earth had tilted back on its axis, and when I stood up off that bed, I’d find solid ground again.
With Heath.
“That piece of shit,” Roman growled, pacing the back porch.
He’d been repeating the same phrase for nearly two hours.
I was doing my best to relax in one of our new rocking chairs while watching Tessa play in the grass with Loretta. My stomach ached as I clutched a glass of wine to my chest.
It was barely five o’clock and I was already a half a bottle in. Day-drinking had never been more necessary.
“What do we do now?” I asked, flashing Tessa a forced smile when she turned to make sure I was still there.
Tessa had been asking for her mom, but after the way Clare had exploded when the DNA results were read, I’d figured it was best to give her some time alone.
I understood. I’d wanted to explode too. It was hard enough to swallow that our embryos had been swapped. But to find out my egg had been knowingly used to create a totally different embryo had hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Now?” Roman asked rhetorically. “Now, I’m gonna find that son of a bitch and murder him.”
I swirled the Chardonnay in my glass as I asked, “He’s her biological father. What if he tries to get custody of her?”
Roman stopped and turned to face me, both hands planted on his hips. “He’s a wanted man, Lis. No judge is gonna give that coward custody. But, above and beyond that, he would have to pry her from my lifeless arms. And that’s assuming he was still breathing after Light got done with him.”
This was all true. Roman was…well, Roman when it came to Tessa.
And, over the last week, I’d seen just how much Heath loved both Clare and Tessa too. He tried to play it cool and kept his hands to himself for the most part, but his eyes told another story. He always watched them—studying Clare’s mood and anticipating her every need. It was really sweet to witness. He was such a hard-ass with Roman and the rest of the security team, demanding to be in on every decision and raising immortal hell when something didn’t go his way. But, the moment Clare entered a room, a wide smile would cover his face and his entire demeanor would shift, changing him into a gentle giant.
And Tessa? Forget about it. He was a lost cause for her. She had him wrapped around every single one of her tiny fingers—and probably even her toes. There was nothing Heath wouldn’t do for that little girl.
“You’re right,” I said to Roman, though my stomach remained in a knot.
“She’s your daughter too, baby.”
“She’s Clare’s daughter,” I corrected, staring down at the wooden slats on the deck, hating myself for wishing that were different.
He walked over and stopped my chair from rocking as he squatted in front of me. “I just meant, if Walter tried anything, you’re her biological mother. We’ll fight him.”
My vision swam as I admitted, “I don’t want to fight him. I want this to be over.”
His arms were around me before a single tear fell. “I know. And it will be soon enough. I swear.”
“It just won’t stop. All of this. It has to—” I was cut off as Alex opened the sliding back door.
“Leblanc, we got a problem,” he informed us, a murderous glint in his eyes.
I immediately scrambled out of the chair after Tessa.
“Elisabeth, chill!” Alex called, but my feet were already moving.
Whatever the problem might have been, she’d be safer inside.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Roman boomed just as I got to Tessa and scooped her up.
I spun around, my heart racing, and found Kristen, Cathy, and Rome Leblanc all standing on the other side of the
glass door, their mouths gaping as they stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
And, as I glanced down at Tessa while she sat on my hip, I realized that, as far as they were concerned, I had.
“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath, anxiety ebbing from my body.
“You say shit!” Tessa giggled, oblivious to my near panic attack.
I clamped my mouth shut and looked down at her. Doing my best to be stern and not laugh as I said, “I did, sweetheart. But you shouldn’t.”
“Why not? Roman say shit. Mama say shit, too. Luke say fuck though.”
I bit my lip. He did say fuck—a lot. “Yeah, Heath does say…um…that word. But, again, you shouldn’t.”
She blinked. “Can I have cake?”
If it would distract her from saying shit and fuck before I had to carry her in to meet her kinda-sorta grandparents and her aunt, who we had not told about her yet, she could have whatever the hell she wanted.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, heading back to the house.
As we got closer to Roman and the rest of the security guys, their conversation grew louder.
Tessa’s eyes flashed wide, and her little body tensed when a DEA agent boomed, “They were on the list!”
“What fucking list?” Roman barked back, his face turning red and a scary vein on his forehead twitching.
Ethan rounded the corner and planted a hand on his chest just as another DEA agent shoved his way out the door to join the argument.
“And, now, we’re all here! I hope someone rolled out the fucking red carpet for Noir before leaving your stations,” Roman snarled.
I frowned and made a mental note to lose my damn mind on every single one of them, including Roman, for having this argument in front of Tessa. But that would have to wait until later, when she wasn’t scared and clinging to my neck.
Rushing past them, I made my way into the house and then slid the door shut behind them.
“It’s okay,” I whispered in her ear. “They’re just talking.”
“Uhhh,” Kristen drawled. “What in the hell is going on?” Her surprised gaze flashed between me and Tessa then out to the glass door, where her little brother was shoving his finger in the chest of an armed federal officer.
“Well…” I started only to trail off.
I’d need to write an entire book to explain how we’d gotten to this point, which was precisely why we hadn’t told any of them yet. Neither of us knew what the hell to say. We’d been waiting on the DNA confirmation before dragging anyone else into this mess. Only, now, the mess was even bigger.