WORTHY

by Lexie Ray

  I slunk inside, managing to avoid the watchful eye of Winston, and dragged myself up to Jonathan’s bedroom. No matter what kind of camouflage I tried to use, I would never belong. The cottage was my home. Here, I would always be a freak.

  I sank on the bed and must’ve cried myself to sleep, because the next thing I knew Jonathan was stroking my curls, sitting beside me.

  “Hey,” he said softly, as I blinked up at him. “I heard what happened. How are you feeling?”

  Damn it. I thought Lucy’s discretion would be infallible, but I knew that she probably couldn’t disobey a Wharton when asked a question about something.

  “I’m missing the cottage,” I admitted sleepily. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly eight,” Jonathan said. “You were asleep for a long time.”

  I sat up blearily and sagged against him as he held me close. His presence was balm on my wound, but it still hurt me.

  “I don’t think this is going to work for me,” I said, starting to cry.

  “We’ve only been here a day,” Jonathan said calmly, rubbing my back, absorbing my tears into his shirt. “Lucy said you all were having a good day until lunch. I should’ve told everyone to go to hell. I can apparently do that, since I’m the boss. This is my fault.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know that this is an adjustment,” he said. “But I just need to see it through. My family comes back tomorrow. I think that I’ll get some answers then. Can you hold out just a little longer?”

  I nodded sheepishly. Of course I could. He must think I was so weak—one morning and afternoon alone in the city and I was reduced to a quivering ball of emotion. I was stronger than this. I had to be stronger than this.

  “You have lots of nice clothes,” Jonathan said. “They’re in your very own closet in the bathroom.”

  “We did a lot of damage,” I said, nuzzling his neck.

  “Why don’t you put something on and meet me downstairs for dinner?” he asked. “I’d love to see a fashion show, and the chef said everything would be ready.”

  “All right,” I said, trying to smile for him. “I’ll surprise you.”

  Jonathan helped me out of the bed and kissed me, hugging me briefly and tightly before he left me to my devices.

  I went to the bathroom and realized that Lucy had arranged everything while I was asleep. My cosmetics were stored in a cabinet beside the mirror, and my clothes completely filled what had been a walk-in linen closet.

  I selected a little black dress that we’d both liked immensely and slipped it on over my head. It hugged what little curves I had on my lean body and gave me very nice cleavage.

  I reapplied the makeup I’d cried off and let my curls fall down over my chest. Maybe I’d get a trim sometime.

  Slipping on a pair of kitten heels—I hadn’t been able to walk in anything much higher—I clicked down the flights of stairs until I reached the first level. I could smell something delicious and looked forward to dinner. My grumbling stomach reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything since the omelet and coffee that morning.

  The dining room’s lights were dimmed, candles providing the majority of the illumination. Jonathan rose when he saw me, his mouth dropping open.

  “You look absolutely stunning,” he breathed, taking both my hands and kissing me. “You are always beautiful, Michelle. I wish you could see yourself like I see you.”

  I hated to disappoint him like this. I knew he had to think I was hopelessly weak. I resolved to try harder for him. I could do this.

  “Can I pour you some wine?” Winston asked, materializing at my elbow.

  “I don’t really drink,” I admitted.

  “Wine with dinner is really good,” Jonathan said. “And it’s a special occasion.”

  “What’s the occasion?” I asked, surprised.

  “I’m in love with a beautiful woman,” he said, grinning at me. “Every day is a special occasion.”

  I allowed Winston to pour me a splash of wine in the glass. It was heady and floral and paired perfectly with the roast beef, new potatoes, and steamed vegetables the chef served us for dinner. I ate well, positively famished, and felt almost like a new woman. I was in a new house, and I had new clothes, practically a new life. I only wished there were some way to step out of my skin, shed it magically and emerge unscarred and blemish free.

  Jonathan deserved that.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, interrupting my spiral of thoughts.

  “How wonderful it is to be here with you,” I said, smiling and hoping I was hiding my despair with my wonder. I never thought I’d leave the cottage, but I was happy to be with Jonathan.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” he said, slipping from his chair and taking a knee in front of me.

  “What are you doing?” I laughed. “I think there’s still dessert.”

  “Michelle, you agreed to marry me before either of us knew the fuller picture,” he said. “You loved me for who I was out in the woods with you. Do you still love me, here in the city? Do you still want to marry me, even as we might discover other things about my life we didn’t know before?”

  “Of course I do,” I breathed. “I love you, Jonathan. I don’t care what else comes with it.”

  He held out a small black box to me and my breath caught in my throat.

  “What’s this?” I choked out, taking it.

  “I told you I wanted to get you a ring,” he said. “And now I can. Open it.”

  The simple but huge square cut diamond glimmered in the candlelight beautifully, like something out of a fairy tale. My hands trembled so hard that Jonathan had to take it out and slip it on my finger.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I said, staring at it for a moment before looking into my future husband’s blue eyes. “Thank you so much for not giving up on me.”

  “You’re the one I should be thanking for not giving up on me,” Jonathan said. “What we had in the woods was simple and pure. What we have now is much more complicated. You’re helping me through this whether you know it or not.”

  “I love you,” I said, reaching down, making him stand beside me, and embracing him. “I love you so much.”

  Holding him in my arms, feeling his arms around me, all the complications dropped away. It was as simple as this, two people loving each other. This was all it had to be.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When I woke up the next morning, I knew exactly where I was. It didn’t matter that the windows were on the wrong side of the room or that I couldn’t hear the wind in the trees at the edge of the property. Those had been replaced with buildings, the sound of traffic, the bustle of the compound’s staff. This was my new life. I was with the man who was going to be my husband. I snuggled into his chest and kissed him awake.

  “Good morning,” Jonathan yawned, putting his arms around me. “This is better than an alarm clock.”

  “I’m just excited to wake up next to you,” I told him. “This is what I want to do every day for the rest of my life.”

  Jonathan laughed and kissed me on my temple.

  “I’m glad,” he said. “Lunch today. I promise.”

  “You’re the boss,” I said. “What time is your family supposed to get in?”

  “Not until dinner,” Jonathan said. “I thought maybe we could meet them at the airport.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “What are you going to do until lunch?” he asked, rolling out of bed and stretching.

  “I’m sure I’ll find something,” I said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  I spent the rest of the morning calm and satisfied. I was going to marry the man I loved. Nothing else mattered.

  I learned how to use the new smartphone that Lucy had picked up for me, then puzzled out the iPad.

  “You said you liked to read,” she explained cleaning up the room as I swiped at the smooth, shiny screen. “You can buy e-books through this and have an ent
ire library in the palm of your hand.”

  “This is amazing,” I said, scrolling through all the various applications she’d loaded on it. “Thank you.” I figured that I’d have to be less resistant to technology now that we were living in the city. Maybe I didn’t Google out in the wilderness. Here, I had an iPad.

  As I poked around the slick device, I kept fiddling with my engagement ring. I loved the weight of it on my finger, and the way it caught the light and gave off rainbows. I wasn’t used to it, but I looked forward to the day that it would be as much a part of me as Jonathan was.

  Around lunchtime, as I was getting ready to go downstairs to wait for him, I heard noise coming from the home office. I went to investigate. Jonathan was sitting at his desk, studying his laptop with an intensity I’d never seen before.

  When he looked up at me, I jumped and recoiled. He looked like the Jonathan who was a stranger to me—his hair still slicked back for the office, his tie loosened a bit, the top button of his shirt undone.

  “I’m sorry,” I said automatically. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just heard noises and wondered what was going on. You working a half day, or what?”

  “You’re not bothering me,” he said, holding a hand out to me. “And today I told everyone to go to hell.”

  I took his and let him lead me to his lap. It felt good to be so close to him. I’d missed him today, fiddling with the ring on my finger and thinking about him. I realized that this was how it would be in the city, if we decided to stay. He’d be at the office all day, and I’d be doing something else. We’d only see each other during the nights and weekends. I missed working side by side with him at the cottage.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, studying the screen of the laptop. He’d paused a video.

  “I found this saved on here,” he explained. “Want to watch?”

  “Sure.”

  He pressed play and I realized we were watching video taken at some sort of event or awards ceremony. Jonathan—the Jonathan before the accident—was giving a speech.

  “I’m just one man,” the Jonathan on the screen was saying, grasping a podium with both his hands. “None of this would be possible without the thousands and thousands of employees at the Wharton Group—from the talented researchers and scientists who work tirelessly to discover new uses for existing products to the specialists who help get these products on the market and on their way to helping people.”

  The Jonathan in the video was suave and confident, sexy and maybe a little bit cocky. He smiled as he spoke, making eye contact with various people in the audience.

  “I’m just one man, and I’ve never been prouder to helm the world’s foremost company,” he continued. “I am accepting this honor on behalf of all of the hard work that precedes each and every one of our achievements. I look forward to the future—it is so bright—and can’t wait to show the world just what Wharton Group is capable of. Thank you.”

  The applause was deafening as the Jonathan in the video hoisted a crystal trophy, shaking hands with a couple of important looking people. The video ended, and Jonathan—the Jonathan I was sitting on, the man I was going to marry—stayed silent.

  “I don’t think I’m that man anymore,” he said finally, his voice tired. “I don’t know the things he knew. I don’t know if I’m good for this company. I have an MBA, but I don’t remember any of the material I covered. I only just memorized all of the sectors of Wharton Group, but I couldn’t pick out any of the board members from a lineup. I don’t know my parents’ middle names.”

  I turned and took his face in my hands. “I know you,” I said slowly, enunciating each word. “You are talented and a hard worker. If you decide that you want this, you’ll seize it with both hands. You have options. You can study. You can take time off. Whatever your decision is, whatever you decide to pursue, I’ll support you one hundred percent. I love you. I know you can do this.”

  It felt strange to be the one in our relationship reassuring the other. I was so used to Jonathan telling me over and over again that I was beautiful, that he would love me no matter what, that he was there for me. I hugged Jonathan, knowing that he needed the same support from me that he had given, and rested my chin on top of his head, smelling the scent of his pomade.

  “I think things will make more sense when your family gets here,” I told him. “If they can’t jolt loose some memories in here, then they can at least help fill you in. I wish I could help more, Jon.”

  “You’re helping more than you know just by being here,” he said, kissing my neck. “How did I get lucky enough to find you?”

  “I’m the one who found you, remember?” I teased, mussing his hair until it stood on end. He smiled a little bit, but I was intent on making him feel better—all the way better. I hated to see him glum and unsure of himself like this.

  I scooted out of his lap and onto the rug covering the wooden floor, kneeling in front of the chair.

  “Michelle?” he asked, his voice unsure. “What are you doing?”

  “Making you feel good,” I said, unfastening his belt and undoing his pants. His cock twitched beneath my fingers. “Making you forget about your problems.”

  “There aren’t any problems when you’re around,” he said, running his fingers through my curls.

  “Good,” I said, smiling up at him. “I like to keep it that way.”

  I drew his cock out from his briefs and pumped it up and down with my hand. I was rewarded both with Jonathan’s groan of appreciation and his hardening shaft. I never got tired of seeing that—his body responding to me. It was one thing for him to tell me that he loved me, that he thought I was beautiful, that I was sexy. It was another to see it for myself, to see physical proof.

  I kissed the very tip of his cock and swallowed. There was a first time for everything, I guess. I’d been sort of a late bloomer in high school. I’d had quite a few girlfriends who’d bragged about giving their boyfriends head in the car or in a secluded park at night, but I’d never had the … pleasure. Frankly, it had always sort of grossed me out—that part of a boy in my mouth?

  But now things were different. I was a woman in love with a man. I cared about him and wanted to share my entire body with him. I wanted to make him feel good. And, after all, I’d never reciprocated from that magical first time in the field by the cottage. His mouth had taken me places I’d never thought possible. If I could return that same gift to Jonathan, I knew I could take his mind off of the things that worried him—if only for a short period of time.

  Tentatively, I lapped at the head of his cock, probing the slit with the tip of my tongue. He gasped and shuddered in response.

  “Sensitive?” I asked sympathetically. I wanted this to be pleasurable, not painful. I’d have to take it slow and ask for feedback.

  “Don’t stop,” he breathed.

  Ah, sensitive in a good way. I continued my explorations, surprised when a sticky bead of liquid connected my retreating tongue to his tip. It tasted salty and musky, not at all bad. Plus, it was just a part of Jonathan. I loved him completely, and this was his.

  I savored it and went back in for more, swirling my tongue around his head, taking more and more of him in my mouth. I was gentle—it was a delicate area, anyways—inching forward bit by bit.

  “You’re killing me, Michelle,” he groaned.

  Worried, I started to draw back, but he stopped me by threading his fingers through my hair.

  “Killing me in a good way,” he said, laughing a little as he grinned down at me. “You’re good at this.”

  I looked up at him and shook my head minutely, inching forward again.

  “You mean this is your first time?” he asked, his eyes widening.

  I nodded and took in another inch of him, working my tongue up and down his member.

  “You are full of surprises, Michelle,” he said, leaning back to allow me more access to him.

  He trusted me so completely with such an essential part of himsel
f. It melted my heart, and I wanted to make sure I did a good job. When the tip of his cock tickled the back of my throat, I stilled, doing my best to resist the impulse to gag. I chanced a quick peek up at Jonathan. He was gripping the arms of his desk chair, his head thrown back and his throat exposed.

  I withdrew just a little bit and sucked, enjoying the sounds that were coming from Jonathan’s throat. Backing up a little more, so that my mouth was just around the tip of his cock, I wrapped my hand around his shaft and started pumping up and down, swirling my tongue in time to the rhythm I was building.

  “God, Michelle,” he groaned. “God, yes.”

  Glowing with his praise, I quickened my pace. Jonathan gripped my shoulders spasmodically.

  “I’m going to come,” he gasped.

  That was the idea, I thought, smiling to myself as I continued. He gave a long groan and filled my mouth with his essence. It didn’t taste bad at all, and I swallowed it down quickly, looking up at Jonathan’s face as I did so.

  He drew me up into his lap immediately, kissing me even though the taste of him was still on my tongue.

  “I want to be inside you right now,” he said, sending chills of desire up and down my spine.

  I sat on his lap, kissing him wildly. If only it could be like this every day—being with Jonathan, passionate and together.

  “I love you,” I said, somehow breaking away long enough to tell him. “We’re going to make it through this. I’ll always be here for you.”

  He buried his face in the crook of my neck, holding me tight. There was nothing better than this.

  ~~~

  “Jonathan! Darling! Oh, my Jonathan!”

  We both turned to the door to see a finely dressed woman. I recognized her from a photograph I’d seen of the entire family. It was Jonathan’s mother, Amelia.

  I hopped off his lap, embarrassed and shocked. The family was supposed to get in on an evening flight. It was just barely afternoon. What would’ve happened if their first impression of me was us having sex at his desk? It had almost happened.