by Nana Malone
I hadn't quite expected the cursing, but it was a pleasant surprise. At least my father wasn't all robot.
"You are the most ungrateful son."
"I know. I've heard it before. In the meantime, have you called to check on your daughter? The one expecting the arrival of a new baby soon?"
There was silence on the line.
"Ah, I see. Okay, here's how this works. If you want access to me, you need to make amends somewhere else. Until then, you and I have nothing to speak about." Then I hung up on him. He knew what he'd done, who he'd harmed. All those years of everything he’d said and done to AJ, the men he'd tried to force on her… I would never forget her face after being stuck alone in a room with Garreth Jameson.
My father had done that. Encouraged him to pursue my sister. And then when AJ tried to tell him about the assault, he'd done nothing and instead blamed her. What was it he'd said then? Oh yes, her predilections. As if somehow, her being who she was had caused all the pain that had come to her. I would never forgive him for that. If AJ chose to, that was on her. I could hold the grudge for the both of us.
Once inside the elevator, I had to take several deep breaths to steady myself. Talking to my father could always ruin my mood, but I couldn't let that happen this time. I needed to stay calm because I had another battle ahead of me.
Chapter Five
Nyla
Traitors.
The lot of them. As soon as East rolled in, my friends slipped out of the penthouse, giving us space. Granted, Livy did give me a reassuring hand squeeze. Amelia just gave me a sheepish smile and then whacked the moron on his back.
"So, are we going to talk about this?"
I watched with pleading eyes as Hazel and Telly scooted out the door following everyone else, and then we were all alone. "I feel like we've already talked enough, don't you?"
His lips twisted into a smirk. "As much as I enjoyed that, there wasn't much actual talking involved. So you and I are going to have a conversation right now."
"East, I'm tired. We keep beating this dead horse, and God, I am scared and tired and lonely, and I don't even know if we can see eye to eye on this."
He stepped into my space, and I had nowhere to go because the counter was right at my back. He bracketed his hands on either side of me, trapping me with his body. His heat and his scent enveloped me. Sandalwood infiltrated my nostrils, swirling around, making it difficult to think and breathe. My nipples puckered. My breasts felt heavy, and I ached between my thighs, remembering what we'd done earlier. The rawness. That sting of 'it's been too long' coupled with a yearning need to be together. A desperate, coiling need to have each other. "East, I don't want to do this. I don't want to fight. I don't want to be this version of myself."
"I'm sorry."
My head snapped up and I blinked rapidly, trying to process the words that came out of his mouth. "What?"
"I'm sorry, Nyla, for so many things. But let's start with thinking that keeping you out of this was the right path."
I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't find any words that were going to make coherent sense. So I just stared at him.
He spoke again. "I'm sorry about the way I broke things off before. I know I have already apologized for that, but I don't think you felt the full weight of what that was. We got back together because I couldn't stand to be away from you, but I don't think I fully apologized for how I'd hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you again. I am also sorry that I shot you. I shouldn't have been there. I should have kept the plan instead of going off script because I was so desperate to end this. And seeing Denning hot on your heels, I knew you were in danger of being caught because of me. Because of my decisions."
His eyes were clear, and his voice was steady as he spoke. I could feel the weight and the gravity of each word as he laid them at my feet. And I was mesmerized, no longer feeling trapped but more like pulled in by his gravitational force. I knew I was destined to orbit him forever.
"I've been so scared about someone hurting you, whether it was Denning, or Theroux, or whomever. And when you sleep at night, I watch you, thanking every God I can name that I was a good enough shot to not hurt you too badly. I know your career is important to you, and I'm not suggesting that it shouldn’t be. That’s not what I'm saying at all. I just—" He shook his head. "What I'm saying is I'm sorry. Since I shot you, I've been trying to overcompensate by being everything you need, being available at your beck and call, and while I do think you need that, I think that person probably shouldn't be me because I was trying to force you into forgiving me. And that's not the way to go. You're too strong for that. You're strong and—"
"Yeah, I know I'm stubborn."
He shook his head, even as I lowered my own, too ashamed to look at him. But he slid his finger under my chin and tilted my head up until our gazes met. "You're fierce. You're a warrior. I have no right trying to tamp that down in any way. I fell in love with you because you're smart, and a little bit impulsive. And tenacious. Jesus Christ, woman, you are tenacious.”
Wait. What did he just say? I blinked up at him.
He moved then and kissed my lips softly. And well, that shut me up.
"See, stubborn. As soon as you admit that you have wanted me from the moment you chased me, we can continue."
I could see the twitch of his lips and a giggle escaped me. "Fine. I chased you and tried to break off your dick. Are you happy?"
East smiled. "I am, actually. For the first time in years, which is what's terrifying me. You make me happy. And I'm scared of losing that. Which is no way to treat you, because that's my baggage, not yours."
"East, I'm sorry too. You've been trying so hard, and I have been less than delightful. It's just that I haven't been able to do anything with the feelings that I have, and then you're so close, and you smell like that, and every night you hold me as I go to sleep, but you don't touch me. And it's been driving me insane."
His brows lifted. "What?"
"Yes, the nightly baths. You're trying to torture me. I know you are."
He shook his head. "No, I'm not, actually."
"Why else would you give me a bath and then not touch me?"
His brows lifted again. "Well, I didn't know you needed me so badly."
"No, see, you're doing that thing with your voice where you drop it an octave. It sounds like gravel on silk. It makes me want to do things."
"What kind of things?"
I whacked his arm, but he didn't move.
"Nyla, I'm not trying to tease. I'm not trying to torture you. All I’ve ever wanted is your safety and your happiness. That's it. I don't want to do things the wrong way, so I'm going to ask you again to forgive me. I want to do better, because that's all I can give you right now."
The moment the words were out of his mouth, off his lips, made bare for me to see, I wanted to let everything go. I wanted him to just be that bloke that took me on adventures that made us both smile. The man who had me chasing him through a mansion and rolling around on the grass. "I miss you. I love you too. Is that okay to say?"
He threw his head back. "Fuck, yes, woman. Say it. I needed to hear it."
"Well, I do. I miss you so much. And I'm not actually mad that you shot me."
His eyes went wide. "What?"
"I'm mad, but not about that. I'm mad that I haven’t been able to jump back in the game. You guys were keeping things from me, and I hate the secrets. I grew up surrounded by them, and I just can't stand it."
He nodded quickly. "I know. I'm sorry. It didn't even occur to me who your father is and all the secrets he's kept from you."
"You don't know the half of it. In the guest bedroom, you know there's that box, the case that Theroux wanted me to look at. I'm trying to unravel the threads right now, and it's complex."
"Well, I know you can work it out."
"You honestly, seriously believe in me, don't you?"
"Without hesitation. You are one hundred percent my first choice."
<
br /> "What are we going to do with each other?"
His smirk broke into a full grin as he slid his hands from the counter to my hips and then pulled me forward. "How about we start with loving each other? I am so foolishly in love with you, and I fucked up not telling you before now. I was trying to keep you safe, but I recognize that all that says is that I don't trust you. Which probably reminds you of before. That's not my intention, and that's not what I want. I do trust you. And I'm going to do my best to show you that from now on."
"I appreciate it. And I love you too."
His kiss was easy and soft, and everything that I wanted. What we'd done earlier tonight was hurried and frenetic. This kiss… this was more of a caress. One that my bruised heart desperately needed.
East
She was giving me another chance, another shot to get this right.
I didn't know why it was so difficult. My whole life had been about what I could control, and obviously that wasn't Nyla. I didn't even want to control her. I liked her better when she was sassy and telling me what for. I liked it better when she showed some spunk.
You're a masochist.
Probably. Either way, I tugged her onto my lap and reached up to ghost a soft kiss over her lips. "You're amazing, you know that?"
"Yes. I do. I was wondering if you knew that."
I sighed, bringing her head down gently so our foreheads would meet. "I do know that, and I should probably tell you more often."
"Yes, yes, you should." She adjusted her hips over mine, and I groaned at the contact. "Jesus, Ny. I'm not going to make it. You are legitimately killing me. And I am so happy about it."
She giggled softly. "I'm not trying to kill you." Her gasps and moans as she rocked ever so slightly over my erection told me she was slowly killing herself too. We both needed this. We both wanted this.
It was a stark contrast to what had happened at the restaurant. This was a slow seduction of light kisses, nuzzled noses, and soft, breathy pants.
My hand tightened ever so slightly on her hip, and I lifted my face up so our lips would meet. "I'm a prick. You'll have to forgive me. I just want to keep you safe. And the only way I know how is to make you comply. But I know that's wrong."
"Uh-huh. Wrong. So wrong."
She adjusted her hips again, this time rotating around and around and... "Oh, fuck."
The zinging electricity up my spine told me I was in trouble.
Any moment now, I was going to need to come.
I had already come once tonight. And in mere moments she had me on the brink again. What alchemy was this? Who was this woman who so completely owned me?
It wasn't long before we found our rhythm. My hand gently guiding her hips back and forth and over. As her hips undulated over mine, our lips caught every now and again. And I would slide my tongue into her mouth, gently fucking it with my tongue the way I wanted to use my dick. Against my lips, she murmured my name and little whispered declarations of, "God yes. I love this."
I loved it too.
You love her.
And that was what this felt like. Love. Something I had zero experience with and was more than a little terrified of fucking up. But Nyla Kincade felt like love. Like the thing I had denied myself for so long, and damned if I didn't want to hold on to her forever.
My hand snuck up the hem of her sweater again, and my fingertips skimmed over her skin, lighting up her nerve endings. I loved to watch her. To see what I was doing to her control. To see how much she needed me. And there was such a satisfaction in that that I hadn't anticipated. That I was the one who made her feel like this.
It didn't matter how many times she would go running headfirst into danger chasing her own adrenaline rush because nothing else made her feel like this, like I did.
When I palmed her breasts, she choked out a cry. "East, God, I'm so damn close."
"And I haven't even gotten to the good part yet."
"There is no need to be cocky, sir."
I chuckled, and lifted my hips so she could feel just how cocky I was.
We both choked out laughs then. When was the last time I had been able to laugh with somebody during a shag? When was the last time I was on the brink of orgasm from essentially making out with someone?
It had been so long, so damn long. That the sheer pleasure of having her over me grinding on top of me with all her clothes on was somehow nearly just as pleasurable as what we'd done in the pub earlier.
"Oh my God, East. I just… I want you so much."
When I palmed her full breast in my hand, I could feel it, the flood of blood straight to the tip of my cock, and I wanted to come. Jesus Christ, I wanted to come so bad. Just explode, in my trousers, like a bloody teenager.
Nyla's breathing was in short, breathy pants. "Oh God, East. There's just something about being with you. Why is it always this good?"
"It always will be." I whispered those words against her lips, and I knew she was mine forever. I was just going to have to convince her. And I was going to do my level best to keep convincing her until she believed me. And then I could see it. Her eyes widening, her pupils so dilated that her eyes were black with only the whiskey brown of her irises around the edges. And I could feel her shudder in my arms, her climax taking over, forcing her whole body to arch and buck against me. "Yeah, that's it. God, I love to watch you."
And that was it for me. Even though, we were fully clothed, had a bedroom ten steps away where I could come inside her where she was warm and slick and wet. But I was too far gone. Watching her over me, completely giving herself to me in this moment, I couldn't hold back anymore. My climax seized hold of my balls, shooting an electric lightning bolt straight through them, up my spine and into my head, and all I saw was the edges of my vision go gray, and her dark eyes as she watched me fall over the cliff with her.
Chapter Six
East
I licked the cream off of Nyla's belly, causing her to giggle and say, "That tickles."
"Sorry, but you looked delectable. Besides, I can't have you going to bed with whipped cream on you."
She laughed. "We're on the living room floor. I sort of counted on a shower before bed."
I frowned. "Well, I suppose you do get your stitches out tomorrow. It won't be the end of the world if that shoulder gets a little wet."
She reached up and pulled me close and our lips slid together. God, it was so fucking easy with her. Such an ease of movement, an ease of living. I could do this forever.
Easy now. Don't scare her. No need to run her off yet.
She might not know where this was going, but I knew. I'd just let her warm up to the idea first. She’d only just forgiven me.
When she pulled back, she smiled up at me. "So, are you going to tell me?"
I feigned ignorance. "Tell you what?"
"How beautiful I am?"
I laughed and then nuzzled my nose with hers before kissing along her jaw. "You are stunning, but I think I already showed you how gorgeous I think you are."
"Why, East Hale, beauty is not just about my body."
I glanced down into her beautiful hazel eyes. "Oh, trust me, I know. But the part my dick likes the best is your body. Sorry. I wish I could say he was really, really attracted to your brain, though he does like it when you fight with me. But mostly, it's your ass." I grinned down at her, and she whacked my arm. "Okay, okay, you have a beautiful smile too."
"Stop it.”
I laughed, pulling her up with me, and then tucking her onto my lap, with my back against the couch. The impromptu picnic on the living room rug happily became a naked snack. But I’d reluctantly let her put on a T-shirt, and then I'd put on my boxers and T-shirt as well. "Okay, I have news. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
She waved her hand dismissively and looped her arms around my neck. "Tell me.”
”You know how we found evidence of a crash during the regatta that was pictured in Jameson’s office?”
"Yeah, all the boys were
accounted for though."
"Well, not exactly. While a couple of them claimed that they saw Henry Warlow after that, there was no activity on any of his credit cards or his bank accounts. His landlord said that he saw him once from a distance. But no one else spotted him again afterward.”
"What? So you think he was on the boat and died, and nobody noticed?"
I shook my head. "Not exactly. What if he’s not the one who died?"
She blinked. “Are you saying that Walter Jameson was the one who died? And what? Warlow took his place?”
I shrugged. "I don't know. But the contents of Jameson’s vault were interesting.”
She frowned as I reached over to my tablet. “How so?”
I kissed her on the forehead and then pulled up the image I'd taken of the letter which was now in my very own safe. I flipped it around to her, and she frowned as she studied it.
"What is this? It looks like a statement of some kind."
"Yup."
She read quickly. “Lord Jameson suffered an accident that day?”
“Yes. At the regatta, two boats crashed. He was severely injured. He had to have substantial surgery to repair his face. Also, his blood type is O positive.”
She blinked. "Oh my God, you're not saying..."
I shrugged. "I don't know what I'm saying. I know, it's farfetched. This was thirty years ago. Thirty-two exactly. We can't really do that kind of science fiction face transplant sort of situation that we see in the movies. But, if people have similar bone structure already, and then one, say, has an accident… It's easy to explain their new features as being a result of that accident."
"But that would take extreme planning. That would mean that somebody else would have to be in on it with him."
I shrugged. "Maybe. It could mean anything. But we are going to find out."
"How?”