Sad, dark, dank, and fucking pathetic—just like I am.
I walk over to the sliding glass door that leads out to the backyard and I look outside. Fourteen years ago, when I moved in here, I imagined that my backyard would be full of kids’ toys, jungle gyms, and maybe even a treehouse.
It’s empty.
The grass is barely alive, and there are no signs of life other than some plants and a tree. I turn around and press my back against the glass before I sink down to my ass. I bring my knees up to my chest and press my forehead against them.
The tears flow as I think about how, yet again, I’ve fucked up my life because I’m blindly, head-over-heels in love with Sloane McKinley Huntington, III. Then I cry because the promise of us, of what we could have, it is so bright, so close, and yet so far away.
The hours tick by, and I don’t move. The sun goes down, and I stay planted to my spot. I don’t know when, or even if, Sloane will be home tonight. My mind starts racing.
I need to pack my shit and get the fuck out as fast as I can. I need to move far away—away from Graham and Sloane and my parents. I need to hide, because this shit is never going to end.
“Genny, baby what’s wrong?” Sloane asks. I jerk my head up, and he’s crouched down in front of me.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“It’s eight. Sunshine, what’s happened? Are you okay?” he asks, concern written all over his face. I want to slap it off of him.
“I’m just peachy,” I say bitchily, I decide to deflect and focus on the slut from the store.
Maybe if I pretend that she’s why I’m upset he’ll believe it. Then when he least expects it, I can sneak away—forever.
Sloane’s eyebrows pinch together, and his jaw clenches, a muscle jumping in his cheek as his eyes narrow on me. “Talk to me,” he demands.
“One of your most recent whores told me just how great you were in bed in the middle of the fucking grocery store today,” I scream before clamping my mouth shut, afraid I’ll say more.
I watch as he blinks slowly, and then his face relaxes as though he’s relieved.
“Some slut said something in the store and it’s got you in tears?” he asks in confusion. “I thought something really bad happened.”
“You fucking asshole. She’s new. I knew exactly who every whore was before I left, and I’ve never seen her before in my life. Plus, she looks young enough to be your fucking daughter,” I screech as I reach forward and start to slam my fists on his chest.
Sloane presses his knees to the ground and wraps his hands around my wrists. He yanks me closer to him. Moving both of my wrists to one of his hands, he wraps his other hand around the back of my neck.
“Sunshine,” he whispers. “Nothing’s happened with anybody since we got back together,” he murmurs.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Sloane,” I grind out through my tears.
Sloane doesn’t say a word. He stands and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder while he walks toward the master bedroom. I brace myself when I expect him to throw me onto the bed, but he doesn’t.
He walks into the bathroom, flips the light on, and then pulls me down his body, my chest brushing his until my feet gently touch the ground.
Spinning me around, he wraps one arm around my waist, the other just under my chin to hold my face where he wants it, pointed directly at the mirror.
“Baby, look at yourself,” he rasps. My eyes lift as I look at myself in the mirror.
I look like hell. My face is pale, my eyes are puffy and red. I close my eyes, but Sloane shakes my head gently, making me open them again. I move my gaze to his.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Imogen. Even when you cry,” he whispers, his head lowering to talk against my ear, his warm breath washing over me, sending chills over my entire body.
“You’re mine, sunshine. Swear to fuck, I’m not going to hurt you like that again. I haven’t been with anyone since we got back together, nobody but you.”
“So she lied?” I ask, my voice timid and scared sounding.
“I was with her right after I got out. You knew I was with someone.”
I close my eyes, letting the pain of his words slice right through me, but his fingers squeeze my cheeks and I open them again. His gaze is intent on me, but there is no anger, there is no pity, only concern. His hand moves from my waist up to just under my breast, and I feel his thumb slide along the underside of me.
“You were gone. I came here, and I didn’t think I could get you back even if I’d wanted to,” he murmurs.
“You didn’t want to, did you?” I ask, knowing that he’ll be brutally honest with me, even if it aches.
“I thought you’d be happier without me, sunshine. I’d hurt you so much, so fucking much,” he says as his voice cracks.
I turn around in his arms and look at his face, into his gorgeous green eyes. I see nothing hidden, only the complete and total truth staring back at me.
There’s no wall up, no bullshit in his words, no smoothing things over to make me complacent. Just truth. I hate it, and I love it, but I hate it because where he’s got the truth practically spilling out of him, I’m full of lies. At the very least, I’m full of omissions.
“I thought that I would be happier after I left you, after I left here,” I whisper.
“But…”
“How can I ever be happy when you have my heart?” I murmur.
He guffaws as he wipes a falling tear away with the pad of his thumb. “Baby, we’re a fucked-up mess.”
“We really are.”
“We’re going to make this work, sunshine. You and me, we’re unstoppable, unfuckingbreakable, and we’re going to have an unbelievable future. We fucking deserve it,” he announces before he lowers his head and presses his lips to mine.
I moan when his tongue slips inside of my mouth, lifting my arms to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to me.
“I love you, Genny. I was too fucking blinded by my own shit before to really see it, really see you. But, sunshine, I fucking love you,” he rasps against my lips.
I melt into him. I melt for him. This man, this man who has broken my heart more times than I can count. He’s slowly starting to mend it back together again; and for whatever insane reason, I’m allowing it—I’m welcoming it.
I’m loving it. I only wish that it could last forever, but I plan on cherishing it for the time being.
“Swear, sunshine, and I’ll prove it over and over again. Swear to fuck, baby, nobody else,” he murmurs as his lips move across my jaw and down the column of my neck. “Spent a whole fucking lifetime hurting you, never again,” he mutters before his tongue snakes out and he licks my skin.
“Sloane,” I whimper as my fingernails dig into the shoulders of his cut.
“Mmm,” he hums as he slips to his knees and starts to unbutton my jeans. “No more talking, sunshine.”
I suck in a breath as he yanks my jeans and panties down, simultaneously, before two fingers slide through my slick entrance and then plunge inside of me, curling the way he knows I love. Leaning forward, he presses his lips to my clit and kisses me as his eyes look up at me through his lashes.
“Want you to ride my face, baby. Can you do that for me?” he murmurs. “Miss this sweet cunt all over me.”
“Sloane,” I hiss.
He grins, removing his fingers from inside of me before he stands up. I watch as he undresses and my eyes catch something on his arm.
“What is that?”
Imogen is pointing at my tattoo, standing in nothing but her shirt while I’m completely naked in front of her. Honest to fuck, I do not want to talk about my new ink right now—I just want her pussy on my face. I want her to come, and then I want her to take my cock so that I can come. Nowhere in there do I want to discuss why her name is now on my arm.
I love her, that’s why. Plain and simple.
“Your name,” I shrug as I turn around to make my way toward the bed.
> Her arm flashes out and she wraps her hand around my wrist, halting me from climbing into bed.
“My name?” she breathes.
I turn to face her, my hand wrapping around her hip where my road name is permanently etched. I run my thumb over my brand.
“Yeah, sunshine. Figured you’ve had my name on your hip, showing the whole world that you’re claimed for years. Least I could do is the same,” I mutter, giving her hip a squeeze.
“I—I—”
I watch as tears well up in her eyes again, but she blinks them back before she smiles. She twists my arm so that she can see her name clearly, careful not to touch the new ink. Then she shakes her head.
“A crown?” she asks, arching an eyebrow.
“My princess,” I grin.
Bending down, I wrap my palms around the cheeks of her ass. With a grunt, I pick her up and turn to take her to the bed and toss her on it.
I climb up and lay down, my eyes focused on hers, on the way she strips out of her shirt, then her bra, before she straddles my thighs and crawls up my body. I wrap my hands around her hips when she’s close, and yank her down on my mouth. My need to taste her is above anything else right now.
“Oh, fuck,” she groans as she leans forward, wrapping her hands around the top of the headboard for stability.
Reaching up, I cup her breasts and tug on her nipples, which only causes her to moan and move a little faster against my face. I want her cum. I fucking need it. I’m goddamn starved for it.
I watch her, the way her eyes widen, and her lips make that perfect O shape. Fucking shit, she’s gorgeous. How I ever went elsewhere for pleasure, I’ll never know. Drugs make you fucking stupid.
She comes, and her taste floods my mouth as her cries flood my ears. Holding her up, I move her boneless body until she’s on her back. Sliding deep inside of her, filling her pulsing cunt with my dick, I groan.
I have the urge to fuck her until she can’t walk, but I don’t. The small smile tipping her lips, the satisfied and relaxed look on her face, plus the emotional drama of earlier—my woman needs slow tonight.
“I can’t believe you put my name on your arm,” she whispers as I slowly pull out before I slide back inside of her tight heat.
“I’m yours,” I announce, wrapping my hand around the back of her knee to spread her legs further apart.
“Sloane.” Her breath hitches and her hand wraps around the side of my neck. I tip my head down to look into her soft, brown eyes, and I grin.
“Sunshine, this shit is fucking real,” I announce as I continue with my slow pace, though it’s fucking killing me not to pound into her tight cunt.
She leans up and presses her lips to mine before she speaks against my mouth. “Fuck me, baby.”
I rear my head back and look at her, her mouth and eyes smiling. I grin before I pull out and then drive into her with all of my strength.
“Yes,” she hisses.
I don’t stop thrusting inside of her, slamming my hips against hers as I fuck her, harder than I should but unable to control myself.
She whimpers as she spreads her legs wider for me, and I can’t help but moan as her pussy flutters around me.
I press her legs open with my palms, grasping onto her thighs harder than I should, surly bruising her tender flesh as I take her. Then I come, deep inside of her, while she cries out with her second release, the pulse and tight grip of her pussy telling me all I need to know—that she’s satisfied.
My wife.
My sunshine.
Stepping into the shower the next day, I moan when the hot water hits my shoulders. I slept like a baby. I was completely emotionally exhausted after the events of yesterday.
Now my body is physically tight from all of the stress lately. I’m being selfish, I know. Selfish as shit for staying here, in his bed, and not leaving immediately. I just want a little more of this, of this Sloane that is so easily loveable.
I finish shaving my legs and turn the water off before grabbing my towel and wrapping it around my body. Then Sloane calls out from the other room. “Sunshine, you want to go to the store in a bit?”
“I don’t like the one here. I was going to go into the city,” I say, scrunching up my nose.
“Baby, I know you don’t like the store here,” he says shaking his head. “I have to go out on another run in a few days, so I want to spend time with you. I’m planning on taking you to that natural bullshit expensive store you like, c’mon.”
I stand, with only a towel wrapped around me, my eyes wide with wonder and surprise as I stare at him. He grins over at me and winks.
“You know which store I like?” I ask breathlessly.
“Yeah, I know which store you like,” he says, his voice gruff as I walk up to him. “Go finish getting ready and we’ll head out.”
I rise to my toes and press my lips to his in a kiss before I do as he says. I hurry out of the bathroom and into the closet to find something to wear today. Looking around my closet, I take in the vast array of clothes that I have.
There are formal dresses for the gatherings with our families, expensive outfits for parties or just luncheons with them, and then all the things I bought and accumulated over the past three years that I just unpacked.
Then I look at my Shasta clothes. Jeans, plain tees, jackets, all things that I cannot wear in San Francisco, but all things that I’m supremely comfortable in.
“What are you thinking?” Sloane asks from the doorway, his eyes completely fixated on me.
“I really have lived a double life, and it’s all right here. Both of my lives,” I whisper as I turn back around to take in my shoes, the expensive bags, and accessories that I have.
“Which one is you, Imogen?” he asks gently.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“Want to know what I think?” he asks. I spin around, curious as to what his thoughts might be on the subject. “I think that you’ve been living this life and thinking it was temporary. I think that you’d go back to Frisco and play dress up to please our families, but you’ve been waiting for something to change so you haven’t found you yet. All the while, I fucked around, fucked you up, and selfishly did whatever the fuck I wanted to, with no regard to you or your feelings.”
I nod because I’d come to the same realization not long ago, but I don’t know how to fix it. I also don’t know if I should even attempt to fix it—especially since I’ll be leaving soon.
My body practically weeps at the idea of walking away from Sloane. He’s the only one who knows me that way. He’s the only one who, no matter the circumstances, can make me ignite.
“What do you want to wear, sunshine?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I look around my closet, and I shrug.
“What makes you happiest?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I whisper truthfully.
“Your fancy shit make you happy? Or your jeans and tee’s?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly. “Whatever makes you happy, sunshine, that’s what I want you to have.”
“I don’t feel like I’m the jeans and plain tee girl, but I don’t feel like I’m the society girl either. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere at all,” I admit.
Sloane closes the distance between us and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into my chest.
“I’ve fucked up, for so goddamn long,” he rasps.
“No, it’s me, this is all on me,” I say.
He looks down at me, shaking his head. “Bullshit,” he barks. “I fucked around on you, fucked you over, and I was a complete fucking asshole. You were eighteen when I married you. We should have been building this life together, instead of me doing whateverthefuck I wanted to do and hurting you repeatedly in the goddamn process. Instead of me leaving you alone and ignoring you. My drug use and the women, fuck, they completely obliterated you. I completely obliterated you.”
“Sloane,” I murmur.
“It’s the truth
, and it fucking sucks that I wasted so much of our time that way. I wish there were better words for me to say but, sunshine, I’m so sorry. I wish I could be a better man for you, a man who could walk away from you because, honest to fuck, Imogen, I should.”
I blink. Then, without another thought, I wrap my arms around him. My towel falls to the floor, but my nakedness isn’t what I’m focused on right now. Right now, I’m focused on the words I never thought that I would hear him say with sincerity.
I’m sorry.
Two words that alone don’t count for much, and sometimes when they’re said they don’t really mean much. Sloane has only ever said them one other time, and that was just recently. I know that he truly means them, they are from his heart.
“Jeans and a cute top,” I whisper against his neck.
“What?” he asks as I step back.
“I think I’m jeans with a cute top. A mix-match,” I shrug with a small smile.
“And I think you’re fucking amazing. See you in a few. Get ready, baby.”
I watch him turn and walk out of the room, and it’s as though a huge boulder has been lifted from my chest. There’s something lighter in the air. This all needed to be said, it needed to happen, and I’m glad for it.
Then my mind shifts to Graham and that lightness disappears. I have a feeling that Graham’s dark cloud is going to follow me for eternity.
I wish that all of this with Sloane would have happened about ten years ago, but life hands us pieces of happiness to grab a hold of, and I’ve finally found my piece. I plan on riding it to the bitter end.
I try not to let the guilt consume and eat me alive. The asshole I was, for the length of time that I was, I probably should. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I call Kipling. I need to make sure he’s good. It’s been a couple of days, and he’s got a ton of shit on his plate for an adult, let alone the eighteen-year-old kid he is.
“Sloane,” he murmurs quietly into the phone.
“You asleep?” I ask in surprise.
Kipling is nothing like me. In fact, he’s my exact opposite. He doesn’t sleep in. He’s up at the ass crack of dawn doing whatever it is the good kids do. I wouldn’t know; I was never a good kid. I was up all night long and sleeping all day.
Rough & Rich (Notorious Devils Book 6) Page 16