by A. E. Murphy
“Sounds good to me.” I step back and walk her to the door. Nathan follows close behind, his smile hiding the fact our date night ended in disaster. Though the night isn’t over yet, is it?
The second she drives away, we shut the door and turn to face each other in the narrow hallway. It’s almost dark, only the dim light from the living room illuminating our bodies and surroundings.
“I daren’t speak,” he admits as we both lean against opposite walls. His eyes come to mine. The shade of brown looks black, making him seem angry though his voice is level. “I don’t want to further upset you.”
“You always twist what I say.”
“I don’t mean to,” he admits softly, looking towards the door. “It’s the way you say things; they come across that way.”
“You should know me well enough by now to know what I…”
“Don’t,” he snaps, his black eyes coming to mine. Even now, at this point in time, regardless of my feelings, he looks so completely handsome. “Don’t force me to believe that I need to read your mind. I’m human and we have only been together a short amount of time. I don’t know everything you think and feel and I don’t want to.” He doesn’t want to? “I like discovering new things about you.”
Maybe I’ve been unfair. “You weren’t completely wrong. I don’t doubt you, but I do worry.”
“Me too.” He admits. “But I need you to have faith. If you lose faith, then so will I.”
We both breathe heavy sighs. It takes a few seconds but he extends his hand to me. “Come to bed. Let’s erase this displeasure in the best way possible.”
Finally smiling, I place my hand in his and step past him to the stairs. “We can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Erase this in the best way possible.”
“Why’s that?” His hand strokes and squeezes my arse as I ascend the stairs.
“You don’t do oral.”
I feel my thigh sting as his hand connects with the sensitive area below my arse cheek. “Cheeky.”
It’s a long running joke between the two of us. He knows I don’t mean harm or even care that he can’t give me oral sex. I’m more than satisfied with what he gives me.
Stepping onto the landing, I feel Nathan’s hands glide around my hips and hold tight. His footsteps match my own quiet, careful ones as we enter our bedroom and switch on the light.
I flop forward onto the bed, exhausted despite the fact it has been a night of rest. Nathan flops beside me but props his head up on one arm. I hum happily when his fingers trace a gentle pattern on my lower back, where my top has lifted slightly, showing pink flesh above my jeans.
“My dad’s trial is in a few days,” he says and every fibre of me becomes rigid. Why is he bringing this up now of all days?
“That’s good. It’s been a long winded process.”
I roll onto my back so that I can see into his eyes. They seem detached, distant, as they always do when conversing about his family, which is very rare and only when necessary. The brown irises don’t hold the shine that they normally do. Even when they aren’t around, these people seem to suck the life from him.
Has seeing his mum had any pull on why he’s suddenly talking about the one thing I’ve been trying to get him to open up about since we almost died that day? My hand reaches up and my fingertips lightly press against the scar on his neck. He winces, not because it hurts but because of the painful memory.
“Thank you for saving me,” I whisper when his hand grips my wrist and he presses the inside to his lips.
“Thank you for loving me.” His voice is a breath. His eyes are closed but the depth of emotion behind his words almost brings tears to my eyes. I feel my bottom lip tremble so I grab his hair and yank his lips to mine.
We claim each other in a deep kiss, heated and sweet, soft and so bloody beautiful I never want to experience another for fear of losing the memory of this one.
Then it’s over and Nathan is rolling onto his back beside me. It’s my turn to prop myself up on one arm and trace his forearm with my fingertips. He loves it when I do this so when he pulls away, his eyes alight with nerves, I feel uneasy.
“I think I might go.”
“Go where?”
“To my dad’s trial.”
Holy fuck. “You’re not joking, are you?”
He shakes his head, brown, lifeless eyes scanning me for my reaction.
“We paid the barrister a fortune to make it so we didn’t have to go.”
“No.” He sits up and I follow suit. “We paid him a fortune so you didn’t have to go. It was you he almost killed.”
“And you.”
“But I raced into the house after the event. You were already in there and there’s an extremely good chance that he knew that.”
I don’t know what to say so I allow the silence to stretch.
He releases a heavy breath so I place my hand on his shoulder. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No.” He bites as if the thought of it is abhorrent. “God no.” I’m suddenly on his lap, tight to his chest as he holds me as though we’re back in that awful moment. “I guess I just need to hear the sentence for myself.”
I nod in understanding and try to pull free. When he doesn’t let me, I know that he just needs a moment to compose himself, so I let him have it.
“He’ll get ten years minimum.” His tone is so certain, so demanding. “He almost killed you.”
Chapter Six
Unfortunately, in real life, things don’t always take the path we most want them to. Despite the fact that Nathan and I are genuinely good people, despite the fact we lost a house, despite the fact we almost died, Nathan’s father has walked free.
“A good man.” Nathan throws a glass and I watch it shatter against the wall. “His first offence, they said.” I’ve never seen him so angry. He rips at his hair. “An accident. Our experience and the near fatal accident is clouding our judgement on a good man. The fire was unintentional.” He yells out a play by play of the court hearing, his tone mocking and disgusted. His eyes are wild with anger and in between each sentence, he bares his teeth and breathes as though ready to hyperventilate. “A fucking ACCIDENT.” I jolt back when he slams the cupboard door shut after reaching for a fresh glass.
“Nathan!” I yell to stop him from destroying another glass. My hand goes to my mouth, catching hot tears I didn’t realise were cascading down my cheeks.
“They said there was no motive and if there was a motive, they were never made aware.”
Oh god. I watch him pour two fingers of whiskey into the tumbler.
“Please,” I cry, holding my hand out to him. “Come to me, Nathan. Let me take care of you.”
“I…” He looks at me with bloodshot eyes. “I can’t do this right now.”
“What?”
He looks around the room, his eyes taking in the destruction that he inflicted.
“There must be something we can do.” I hold out my hand to him, relieved when he takes it and allows me to bury my face in his chest. I know his eyes are staring at the mess he’s made so I stroke his back to try and take his mind off it, as a way to soothe him. I’ve never seen him so angry. I’ve never felt him tremble so badly.
“They need a motive…”
“They won’t get one out of what we gave them,” I reason, pulling back and looking at him through my thick lashes. “Regardless of his motive, the fire wasn’t meant to kill me.”
He yanks away from me. “That’s not the point.”
“I don’t even think it was supposed to burn the house down.”
“Are you saying he doesn’t deserve to go to prison?” His tone has deepened dangerously; his eyes glitter with anger. I need to watch what I say next.
“No, I’m saying that… you might have to report him for what happened to you as a boy.” My teeth sink hard into my lower lip.
The horror on his face when he realises what I’m trying to say breaks my heart
. “No.”
“But…”
“I said, no.”
He’s gone in an instant, leaving me cold and wanting his heat. I hear the front door slam, shaking the house with the force of it. My leg itches to take the first step after him but the rational part of me knows that going after him now won’t make anything better.
Tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks as I get to work on cleaning the kitchen. It has been a long time since he has walked out on me, not since long before Emily was born. Not since before we were almost killed in that horrific fire.
I don’t like it.
It scares me. I like our relationship how it is now; I don’t want things to change. Nathan dotes on us. He loves us. We love him just as much and I can’t do this without him. He’s starting to really become himself. Something this major could set him back.
After cleaning up the glass and disposing of it properly, I lean against the side and inhale a heavy breath. My body is still shaking, confused and sad. I don’t know what to do.
Once I’ve swept up the glass and vacuumed the tiled floor, I slide down the wall and bury my face in my knees. It’s not until I hear Emily begin to witter through the baby monitor that I remember that I actually have responsibilities and, regardless of Nathan’s feelings, so does he.
Gwen: Come home. I won’t talk about it anymore. Not today anyway.
I get no response. I wasn’t expecting one. He needs time and I have faith that he’ll return tomorrow. He has to; I have work at one and he knows how badly I’ll worry if he doesn’t.
Besides, he isn’t the only one who is angry and upset at this revelation.
We did have some warning - the barrister said this was a possibility. Nathan’s father has friends in high places and investments in companies that will bail him out if necessary. Nathan just refused to believe that these professionals would not see through his father and his lies.
It almost makes me want to laugh.
Instead, I head upstairs to check on my babies and when I’m satisfied that they have been untainted by the drama, I crawl into bed and wrap my arms and legs around Nathan’s pillow.
Sleep is as evasive as smoke between my fingertips. I know it’s there but I just can’t get a grasp on it.
What am I going to do? I want to be there for Nathan and I want to respect his wishes but while his father roams free, we and our children won’t ever be safe. This has to be settled. His father has to pay for everything he has done.
I climb out of bed and have a long, hot shower, praying that the heat relaxes my tense muscles. It doesn’t and I climb back into bed, still slightly damp and teary eyed.
Nothing will bring on sleep, nothing but my fiancé. Or the powerful bite of exhaustion.
Gwen: Please come home.
Yet again, no response. I cry my final tear just as exhaustion takes a hold of my wilting body.
“I’m so sorry.” The bed shifts and my hair is pushed to the side by cold fingers, making my heavy eyes lift just enough to see his face coming towards my own. “Forgive me,” he murmurs against my lips before tucking me into his clothed front and wrapping his leg around mine to keep me in place. His arms hold me tight, almost too tight. I don’t know how much time has passed since I finally began to drift. It feels as though I only shut my eyes for a moment before he appeared. I can’t say I’m not relieved.
“Always.” I find his throat and place a gentle kiss below his jaw. “I’m sorry this is happening.”
His chest deflates. “Me too. I should never have lost my temper like that. I never…” He leans back and places a gentle hand on my cheek as his eyes search my own. “Never, want to make you feel scared of me. I would never hurt you. You know that right?”
“I know.” My hand rests over his. “You don’t have to reassure me. I know. I wish you hadn’t gone.”
“I won’t walk out again, I…”
“No.” My eyes search for his in the dark. “To the trial.”
“Me too. It was too much to bear. I don’t know how to handle this.”
“We’ll get through it together.” My hand presses against his shoulder firmly enough to force him onto his back. “We always get through things together.”
Strong fingers curl around my neck and a thumb presses against my pulse. I feel him pulling me closer right before his soft lips trap my lower lip between them.
I grin, followed by a squeal when I’m quickly flipped onto my back so that he can deepen the kiss.
“That tickles,” I laugh wildly when he nips at my neck and buries his face below my ear. I try to press my shoulder to my temple to keep him out but he’s too strong. “Stop,” I beg, now laughing so hysterically I can hardly catch my breath. “Nathan, the kids!”
He finally lifts his head, a cheeky smile shining in the dark. I watch his pupils dilate and know that he’s swiftly changing from playful to aroused. He’ll do anything to change the conversation or make me forget it entirely. I’ll do anything to help him heal from it, even if only for tonight.
Groaning, he pushes his tongue past my tingling lips. I accept willingly, loving the way his hands roam up and down my sides, grasping at my flesh desperately.
“You smell like peaches,” he mumbles against my breast before drawing a nipple into his mouth. My back arches as the beautiful, stinging burn spreads through my breast with each lash of his tongue and pull of his lips.
The heat it creates twists and writhes in my womb and groin, so when he releases himself from the confines of his trousers and sinks into me with little to no warning, the relief I feel is brutal; the moan I release is untameable. His answering groan only furthers to ignite my pleasure in a way only he can.
“I love you,” I cry out on a whisper, tugging on his hips with my hands. His pelvis hits the apex of my thighs, pushing softness against my aching clit with each thrust.
“Gwen,” he pleads, lifting my thigh over his arm so he can force himself deeper. “Lift your hips for me.”
He raises himself onto his forearm as his hand pulls my lower back up. This is new. It feels amazing. I can see stars. My heels dig into the mattress after he releases my leg. Warm lips seek mine. I feel his panting breaths on my face and then his tongue against my lips. As he pushes all of him into me straight to the hilt with every thrust, I can hardly cry out from the ache it causes deep within.
“I’m there,” I warn him, hoping that he’s there with me.
His grunt is loud and I feel him swell, filling me so perfectly. It’s when his swollen cock throbs with the first spasm of orgasm that I follow him and allow myself to release the pent up pleasure in my stomach.
“Yes,” he pushes harder. “Gwen, god… don’t stop.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
I’m too lost and limp. My insides keep twitching with delicious tingles.
A shudder flutters through my body as Nathan collapses on top of me, bringing both of our bodies against the mattress. He rolls instantly, still panting from the exertion but thankfully not crushing me beneath his weight. His sculpted and toned body certainly doesn’t weigh nothing.
“That was incredible,” he whispers into the darkened room and holds me tight to his side.
I count down from six in my head and, when I reach one, he pulls away to have his after sex shower. Rolling my face into the pillow, I smile at the routine of it. It used to offend me but now I don’t care. Soon I’ll follow and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The thought of not showering after sex is almost repulsive to me now that I’m in the habit of it.
A heavy breath leaves me when I drag myself to sitting and finally hobble into the bathroom where Nathan is already under the hot spray. He holds the door open for me and smiles when I step inside. It’s then that we hold each other under the heated water, our rapidly beating hearts synchronising.
“I love you,” he tells me as his slick hands admire every inch of my back from shoulder to arse. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” I tip bac
k and kiss his jaw. “Don’t get my hair wet or you will be sorry.”
His brow raises defiantly as his hand grabs the shower head and twists it so the spray is hitting me face on.
Arsehole.
Chapter Seven
Sasha: August nineteenth, my birthday, we’re going to Alton Castle in Windsor and there’s nothing you can do to get out of it.
I sigh heavily and move to the right when Emily throws her breakfast spoon at me. It hits the wall, spraying porridge everywhere.
“Maybe if you weren’t staring at your phone you’d have been able to prevent that.” Nathan wipes down the wall as I pick up the spoon with my free hand, my other hand responding to Sasha’s message.
Gwen: That actually doesn’t sound so bad.
Sasha: Good! I’m so excited!
I smile at my friend’s enthusiasm but it quickly vanishes when I notice Nathan scowling at me. Wincing, I point to my phone. “It’s Sasha. It couldn’t wait.” He looks unconvinced. “She wants us to go to Alton Castle for her birthday.” He looks repulsed. “It’ll be fun! I haven’t been to a theme park since before Dillan.”
After a moment’s deliberation he finally bites out, “Fine, but only because you seem so happy about it.”
“Yes!” I fist pump and snatch Dillan from the ground. “We’re going on some big rides!”
“Beeeg wide,” he mimics, staring intently at the toy train in his pudgy little hands. “Chooo choo. Beeg wides!”
Nathan kisses my temple and removes his nappy clad daughter from the highchair. “No hotdogs though.”
My eyes roll so quickly I almost lose them in my head. “You’re so predictable. I mouthed those very words as you said them.”
“Hotdogs aren’t food.”
I pat his cheek lovingly and condescendingly. “Be quiet.”
“Beee carrot,” Dillan mimics, making us both laugh. Emily laughs with us simply because we’re laughing.