The Man Who Has No Sight (Soulless Book 4)

by Victoria Quinn

  I came at our contact, filling her pussy with an urge I couldn’t control. It was instinctual, carnal. I came with a moan, giving her a load of seed that immediately dripped to the sheets beneath us. With my forehead pressed to hers, I breathed against her mouth, feeling my cock remain hard as steel because I was still so fucking aroused, turned on by my own climax, how she demolished my threshold just by being underneath me.

  I started to move, sliding through my own come, ready to give her an encore so good she would forget the first act.

  She locked her ankles around my waist and rocked with me, panting against my mouth, moaning quietly so my son wouldn’t hear the pleasure we couldn’t contain. Her lips moved to mine, and she kissed me gently, her lips trembling like she was about to explode herself, like all she needed was contact and a little friction.

  And then she did, coming with a long and sexy moan.

  Fuck, at least I wasn’t the only one.

  She whispered against my lips. “Just a warm-up…”

  I thrust through my come and hers, so turned on it seemed like I hadn’t just exploded a moment ago. I tried to swallow my moans and keep them quiet, but it was fucking impossible. She just felt so good; this felt so right. I’d missed her. I’d missed this. I could never go back to the way my life used to be, having casual sex with women who meant nothing to me, not when sex could be this good…when I was in love.

  Four

  Cleo

  We sat in the back seat of the SUV, Derek in between us in a puffy jacket and a beanie.

  “What does snow taste like?” Derek asked.

  “Like soft ice,” I said.

  “Not like a snow cone?” he asked sadly.

  I chuckled. “No, unfortunately.”

  Deacon was on his phone, probably taking care of work emails.

  I watched him, seeing the way his strong wrists poked out of his long-sleeved shirt. He was clearly tired because we’d gone to sleep so late, but I doubted he regretted it. It felt the way it used to, when neither one of us cared about the obnoxious sound of the alarm clock the next morning.

  It wasn’t exactly the way it used to be, but it was getting there. I never wanted to be the cause of problems with Deacon, Valerie, and Derek, but Deacon wouldn’t allow Valerie to manipulate him, to get rid of me. He stood by me, stood his ground, said I was family.

  It meant the world to me.

  I knew Valerie was a bitch, but a part of me just felt bad for her. She didn’t get what she wanted, and it hurt so much that she behaved irrationally. She had her sights set on the man she wanted and would do anything to keep him.

  But he was mine.

  I made him happy…and he made me happy.

  “Can we fish in the cold?” Derek asked.

  My eyes were on Deacon.

  “No,” Deacon answered without looking away from his phone.

  “Then what are we going to do?” Derek asked his father.

  “It was your idea to come up here, son.”

  I could tell he was busy, so I stepped in. “Playing in the snow will be a lot of fun. We can do snow angels, snowball fights, build a snowman, have hot cocoa in front of the fire, play board games…lots of stuff.”

  “Ooh, that does sound fun,” Derek said. “Maybe we can color too?”

  “Definitely.” I smiled at him, seeing the man I loved so clearly in that adorable face. With the same hair color, same eye color, and general face structure, it was like having a little, innocent Deacon running around.

  When we drove farther into the wilderness, the snow started to look like powder on the sides, perfect mounds that made it seem as if we were driving into a winter wonderland.

  Derek kept his eyes out the windows. “Maybe we can go sledding too.”

  “We’ll see what your father says,” I said.

  Deacon slipped his phone back into his pocket.

  “Everything alright?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he answered. “One of my colleagues wanted me to check something on their research.”

  I didn’t ask any more questions because I wouldn’t understand the half of it anyway.

  We arrived at the gated community then entered the code to get onto the property.

  “We’re here!” Derek threw up his arms in excitement. “Look at all that snow!”

  There was tons of it all over the property, plenty to keep him busy for hours.

  After we parked and got the bags and food, Deacon tipped the driver and carried everything into the house.

  Derek was already playing in the snow, making snowballs with his bare hands.

  “Honey, put on your gloves.” I walked to him and kneeled so I could secure them over his wrists and Velcro them tightly.

  He wiggled his fingers. “But I can’t feel anything.”

  “The snow is so cold, you won’t be able to feel anything anyway,” I teased. “You’ll get used to it.” I got to my feet and zipped up the front of my coat. Deacon was in the house, so I stayed outside to keep an eye on Derek and waved to the driver as he left the property. I wondered if Deacon put my bags in his master bedroom where I stayed last time, or if he would put me somewhere else. The cabin was our place to get physical and intimate, but this was a family trip. Maybe we could sneak off during Derek’s naps and when he went to bed early, but it wouldn’t be a sex-a-thon like the other times.

  But that was okay. Derek gave us a different kind of happiness.

  Deacon came out of the house, wearing a coat and beanie, looking just like his son.

  “Dad?”

  Deacon came down the steps and walked onto the path. “Yeah?”

  Derek straightened, a snowball in his hand, and threw it right at his father’s face.

  I covered my mouth and muffled my laughter.

  Derek giggled.

  Deacon had pieces of snow stuck to his face and eyebrows, and at first, he looked pissed, but after he wiped his face with his hands, a slight smile came through. “You’re gonna pay for that, little man.”

  Derek chuckled and ran off, getting cover behind a tree.

  Deacon kneeled and rolled the snow between his hands to make a ball before he ran after his son. “Don’t you run from me.”

  I pulled out my phone and started to record the whole thing, knowing it was the perfect memory to capture.

  “Ahh!” Derek kept running away, knowing his father was going to hit him with that enormous snowball.

  I chuckled as I recorded it.

  “Oh no.” Deacon dropped the snowball, though it was obviously on purpose, but since Derek faced the other way, he couldn’t see. Deacon probably loved the chase but didn’t want to actually hit his son.

  Derek turned around and grinned at the newfound opportunity.

  Deacon kneeled and quickly tried to roll a snowball.

  “Ha!” Derek grabbed a handful of snow and dumped it on his father’s head, coating him like an avalanche had just struck.

  “You little butthead.” Deacon quickly rolled a snowball.

  Derek sprinted to me, running as fast as he could over the disheveled snow mounds. “Cleo!”

  Deacon sprinted after him.

  Derek got behind me, hanging on to my legs. “Save me, Cleo!”

  I recorded Deacon running over the mounds, having an easier time because of his height, a snowball in his grasp. “There’s nothing I can do, Derek. We’re both done for.”

  Deacon smirked slightly as he looked at me, slowing down while his hand held the ball of snow.

  “Come on, Dad,” Derek said as he poked out from behind me. “You wouldn’t hurt Cleo, right?”

  He sighed and let the snowball roll off his fingertips. “You’re lucky she’s here to protect you.”

  Derek squeezed my legs with a hug. “Thank you, Cleo.”

  I chuckled, still recording.

  Deacon moved into me, and his arms circled my waist as he gave me a kiss, his lips cold from the snow that had hit his face. But everything else was warm, like the
way he hugged me, the way he made me feel loved. He tugged me closer as he kissed me, like his need to love me made him forget Derek was right there…or he just didn’t care.

  “Ew…” Derek trailed away.

  Deacon rubbed his nose against mine before he pulled back, looking at me with that old happiness he used to display all the time, like there wasn’t a single thing he would change about his life—everything was perfect. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” The phone was in my grasp, and the video kept rolling.

  “You’re gross.” Derek threw a snowball at the back of his father’s head.

  I chuckled, seeing the snow splash across his shoulders.

  Deacon turned away from me and stared down at his son.

  I lifted the phone and continued to record.

  “Okay,” Deacon said. “Now it’s time for me to teach you a lesson.”

  I lay on the couch in front of the fire with Derek beside me, an open picture book in his lap. It was about dragons and other mythical creatures. He read aloud to me, like he wanted to show me how well he could read.

  Deacon was in the armchair in front of the fire, drinking his beer as he watched us together, the flames highlighting the angles of his handsome face. Instead of watching the fire, he watched us, never taking his eyes off us.

  When Derek got too tired, the book slowly slid from his hands and flattened against his chest. His lips parted, and he fell into a deep sleep, his hand falling over the edge and dangling to the floor.

  Deacon grinned slightly, watching his son fall asleep in my arms. “I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did.” He set his beer down then walked to us on the couch. He kneeled, delicately slipped his arms underneath Derek’s small body, and then lifted him as he rose to his feet. “I’m gonna put this little butthead to bed…”

  I chuckled. “Alright.”

  He carried him upstairs.

  I sat up on the couch, wearing one of Deacon’s sweaters and his sweatpants because it was just more comfortable than the things I’d brought. My bag was on the floor beside the coffee table, so I fished out the small box inside.

  Deacon returned minutes later, like there hadn’t been a good-night conversation because Derek was out cold. He was in sweatpants loose on his hips and a long-sleeved shirt, covering more skin than usual, but still sexy, nonetheless. “You want to go to bed?” He moved to the seat beside me.

  “What about the fire?”

  “I can wait for it to go out.”

  “No.” I stared at the flames for a while before I turned to him. “We’ll go together.” The nerves suddenly got to me. I was nervous when I shouldn’t be. It was just so important to me, and if it didn’t go the way I hoped, I was afraid of getting hurt. But this was Deacon…he would never hurt me.

  He watched me for a few seconds, noticing the change in my mood without my saying a single word. “What is it, baby?” He didn’t notice the box on the coffee table because it blended in with the wood pretty well.

  “Well…” I grabbed it and rotated it with my fingers. “I wanted to give this to you.” After losing him and then experiencing that difficult Thanksgiving, I knew he was the only man I would ever feel this way about. Even if we couldn’t make it work someday, my feelings for him would never change. I handed him the box.

  He eyed it for a moment, the flames reflecting in his eyes, and he processed the gesture for a few seconds before he eventually took it. His fingers spun it around gently, like he was looking for some sign of the contents on the exterior. Then he cracked it open, seeing the watch sitting inside, the silver band and the matching face. The battery had died a long time ago, but it’d been replaced. I’d had it cleaned too. He stared at it for a while, like he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  “I know it’s not as nice as the other watches you wear…but it belonged to my father.”

  He turned his head to me quickly, his eyes wider than before, as if the gesture took him by surprise.

  “I want you to have it.” I couldn’t wear it, and I’d always imagined giving it to someone special. There just wasn’t anyone special enough before Deacon.

  He turned back to the watch and stared at it for a moment before he lifted it from the box and got a better look at it. Then he opened the metal clasp, slid it onto his wrist, and clicked it shut. It shone in the glow from the fire, decades-old, but still the most expensive thing my father ever owned. “Baby…” He was at a loss for words, even more than usual.

  I smiled as I watched him wear it, knowing my father would have loved Deacon…if they’d ever had the chance to meet. “It looks great on you. Fits perfectly.”

  He stared at the face of the watch, watching the second hand tick by. “This means a lot to me…thank you.”

  “I don’t expect you to wear it all the time—”

  “It’s the best gift anyone has ever given me. I’ll always wear it.” He lowered his hand then turned to me.

  Now the nerves died away, the fear of rejection gone. It was one of the most valuable things I owned, and I would wear it myself if I could. I had my mother’s jewelry, and I didn’t want my father’s watch to sit in the bottom of a drawer somewhere. I wanted to see it on the man I loved.

  His hand went to mine, and he grabbed it, interlocking our fingers.

  My eyes had moistened, so I took a deep breath and blinked a couple times, not wanting tears to ruin the beautiful moment.

  “I’m honored that you want me to have it.” He held my hand on his knee, looking into my eyes with a new layer of love, like his words weren’t empty, but they really meant the world to him.

  “You’re the love of my life…” This time with Deacon made me self-reflect, made me realize my divorce really was all my fault. I’d settled for a man I didn’t truly love. I was too young to know how love could be. Now that I’d met Deacon, I knew what real love was. If I really loved my ex, I would have done the dishes like I did at Deacon’s place. I would have gone the extra mile to make it work, but I didn’t. I bent over backward for Deacon…a million times.

  His eyes softened, and he squeezed my hand a little tighter. “And you’re mine.”

  The fireplace in his room burned quietly, facing the bed, giving us a beautiful glow in which to view each other, an aesthetic to make the moment even more romantic. The logs gave a slight pop when they became too hot, and the flames licked the wood audibly. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed nothing but darkness outside, except the bright stars overhead in the far distance behind the mountain.

  He was on top of me, rocking into me slowly, keeping the same pace as he had at the beginning, like this gentle lovemaking was enough for him. It had nothing to do with being quiet or keeping the bed from creaking. It was simply enough.

  I gripped the back of his neck as I looked into his gaze, falling more in love with him, finding a deeper connection than had been there before. I trusted him to protect me, to love me, to always take care of me…and to stand up for me. He was the family I’d been longing for, the piece missing from my heart. Now I had somewhere I belonged, and there was no more loneliness. There were no more frozen burritos in front of the TV. There were no more emails on my phone that were more important than staring at him across the dinner table. I loved his son like he was my son, fantasized about taking their last name so we could be a real family someday. I imagined having more children with him, my belly round and my feet swollen, waddling around the house in a loose dress as I waited for the months to trickle by. I pictured the rest of our lives together, doing this very thing in our golden years, gray in his hair and wrinkles around his eyes. It was everything I wanted, but I was in no rush to have it, because that very moment was perfect. There was no rush to move forward, not when we were living in a moment that would be a memory for us to talk about decades down the road. He would be my husband someday, whenever that was meant to happen, so I’d given him the watch…because I had complete faith it would happen.

  After we had breakfast, we w
ent outside and played in the snow. Deacon and Derek garnished a snowman with the vegetables in the fridge, and I took a few pictures. Then we dragged the sled to a nearby hill and took turns going down with Derek.

  The afternoon passed quickly, and after we went home and had lunch, Derek was out cold.

  “He’s not usually this tired on a regular day,” I noted.

  “But he’s not running around in the snow either.” Deacon chuckled then carried Derek upstairs to put him down for a nap. When he returned, he sat across from me at the dinner table, his watch on his wrist.

  I loved seeing him wear it. I loved feeling the metal when he touched me. I loved knowing my father was always with us, that he had a legacy. A hospital wasn’t named after him and he didn’t have a company with his name on the front, but he had something.

  Deacon stared at me across the table, his elbows on the surface and his hands extended.

  “You want to watch a movie?” I was pretty tired from last night, so I wasn’t opposed to napping on the couch.

  He didn’t answer. He stared at me for a while before he bowed his head. “I need to tell you something…”

  The magical afternoon was instantly ruined. “Alright…”

  He raised his chin again, this time sighing. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but now I feel weird keeping it from you.”

  “Maybe it’s best if you don’t tell me.” Maybe he kissed someone when we weren’t together. Maybe he went on a date and felt guilty for not being more truthful about those two months. But it really didn’t matter, and knowing that information would only hurt me. Hearing Dr. Hawthorne made a move had just made me sick to my stomach.

  “You’re going to find out anyway. I’m surprised it hasn’t come up, honestly.”

  “Okay…” I wished he would just rip off the bandage and get it over with.

  “I ran into Jake in the lobby…and broke his nose.”

  I stilled at the revelation because that was not what I expected him to say. “Uh…what? When did this happen?”