by Eva Ashwood
She trails off, tears slipping down her cheeks.
I think vaguely that I should comfort her. That I should say something, some words of understanding or forgiveness. But I can’t say anything right now, let alone think. I can barely hear anything she’s saying past the blood rushing in my ears. My mind is a jumbled mess of thoughts as I struggle to grasp this new reality I’m living in, trying to piece everything together.
“Who are they?” I ask, my voice a quiet rasp. “Do you know their names? Who are my parents?”
Reagan glances between me and the Sinners, then back at me. “Yes. Their names are Charles and Maria Davenport,” she says. “You’re Sabrina Davenport.”
“Fuck.”
Gray’s voice makes me jump. The guys are all gathered in a tight semi-circle behind me, and I’ve been holding the receiver an inch or so away from my head so that they can hear Reagan’s words through the speaker.
I crane my neck to look back at them. All three of the men wear looks of angry shock, but Elias recovers first. He swallows, glancing down to meet my gaze. “We know who they are,” he says, shoving a hand through his hair. “They run in our circles, not close to any of our families in particular, but I know who they are. I didn’t know they had a…”
A daughter.
He doesn’t say the word, but his jaw clenches as he trails off. Countless questions rush through my head. Do I have siblings? Do my parents remember me? How did they explain that I was gone? Are they still in debt to Alan, or did they ever repay him? Did he not help them because I ran away before they could pay him back?
And what the fuck happens next?
Reagan doesn’t have anything else to offer, and the guard who escorted us in comes back a few minutes later to tell us that our visitation time is over.
No one tries to talk to me on the drive home. The car is quiet. I still can’t say anything, let alone think, as I struggle to accept everything Reagan said. I need to be by myself, left alone with my thoughts and my art, before I can figure any of this out.
When we get back to our place, I head straight for the studio as if pulled there by instinct, shutting the door behind me. But as soon as the latch clicks, my heart does a little stutter in my chest.
Alone.
I’m alone. I know that if I keep that door shut, the guys might leave me like that. Might give me my space. But solitude is something that Sophie from a year ago craved when things got hard—Sophie from a year ago would shut everyone out until she’d buried the shit that was bothering her and became numb enough to walk through life like a zombie, trying to avoid emotions, feelings.
That’s not me anymore.
I don’t want to be alone, not when things have changed. Being alone may have worked for me a year ago, but now that I’m learning to trust, feel, and need the guys—I can’t shut them out like this. I need to let them in, for their sake and mine.
I move toward the door, reaching for the knob, but it turns before I even reach it. Declan doesn’t bother to knock as he enters and closes it behind him. He holds a joint in his hand, cradled between two fingers.
“Can I come in?” He lifts the joint like a peace offering.
I give him a small smile. “Sure,” I say quietly. A smoke with Declan is exactly what I didn’t know I needed until now. “Do you have a lighter, or do you need mine?” I think I left it on my bedside table.
He pulls one out of his pocket and flops down on the floor without another word, lighting the joint and offering it to me. When I reach for it, he gently grabs onto my wrist and pulls me down with him so that we’re both leaning against the closed door.
My head rests on his shoulder. He smells woodsy and warm, just like he always does when we smoke, and I settle against him a little more as I bring the joint to my lips and take a long, deep inhale.
I hand it to him as I slowly breathe out, and he takes it. We sit in silence like that for several long minutes as my heart begins to beat in a more even tempo.
“You know,” he finally says, “I always wished my parents loved me, but they never really did. I learned really young that they like the idea of me more than the actual me. They could show me off to their friends, brag about any accomplishments they deemed worthy, and they had someone to carry on the family name. But they never supported me in the things I actually cared about. Wanted.” He passes the joint back to me, letting out a long breath and glancing down at me. “What your parents did, though? That’s just fucked up.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” I say, laughing bitterly, taking one last drag on the joint before stubbing it out and flicking it into an empty paint can nearby.
My chest aches, and I rub at it with the heel of my hand. How can I be so crushed by the abandonment of parents I don’t even remember? Can you have your heart broken by people you couldn’t pick out of a lineup?
“They fucked me over to help themselves.” I frown. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised. That’s family for you, isn’t it?”
Declan grabs my face and turns me to look at him, our lips so close I could lean in and kiss him. But his eyes are serious as he says, “There are all kinds of family, Soph. I found a family with Gray and Elias, and you’re part of that now. We’ll always be here to take care of you, and we’ll never betray you. We’re not going to try to change you, and we’ll always be here, no matter what.”
My throat constricts, and I try to think of something to say, some words to match the sweetness and earnestness of his.
But before I can say anything, Declan speaks again. And in four little words, he tops every single thing he’s said previously.
In four little words, he cracks the armor around my heart wide open.
“I love you, Sophie.”
19
I stare at Declan, trying to remember which muscles are required to draw breath. My body seems to have forgotten that basic function. Even my heart seems to have stopped beating momentarily.
He loves me.
I think I knew that already, on some level. But knowing it and hearing it are such vastly different things that they seem worlds apart.
Declan loves me.
Maybe it’s pathetic, but I’ve never really been loved before. Jared cared about me, and I cared about him too, so much. But I think we were both too broken, too scared and adrift, to truly love each other. Not like this.
Because when Declan says he loves me, I know he means it with his entire being. And more than that, I know he’ll act on that love. He’ll protect me. He’ll take care of me. He’ll respect me and worship me. Nothing about his feelings for me is theoretical. It’s all visceral and so very, very real.
“Soph?”
Declan’s brows draw together a little, and I realize with a start that I’ve just been staring at him in silence for who-knows-how-long. I shake my head a little to clear it, and the movement seems to restart my heart and my breath. My jaw falls open slightly as I suck in air.
His cheeks turn a little pink, and he ducks his head a little before meeting my gaze, his hands still cupping the sides of my face. “Sorry. I hope that didn’t make everything super weird. But I do. I love the fuck out of you, and I had to tell you. You’re strong, and you’re loyal, and you’re so fucking beautiful it takes my breath away. But you don’t have to say it back. That’s not what I was expecting, and I don’t—”
“I love you.”
The words pour from my lips so fast that they almost trip over each other, as if I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve if I hesitate. Or maybe it’s just that I don’t want to hold them in for another second longer.
Maybe it’s that I want him to know the truth.
Declan’s eyes widen. “You do?”
“Yes.” My pulse picks up, thrumming in my veins as I repeat the words, slower and more deliberately this time. “I love you, Declan.”
His smile is one of the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen. I don’t know which one of us moves first, but we meet somewhere in the middle as our
mouths collide.
This kiss feels different than any we’ve shared previously, and I don’t know if it’s because neither of us is holding anything back or because those three little words seem to echo behind every stroke of our tongues.
Maybe it’s a little of both, honestly.
Declan’s hands slide through my hair, cradling my head as he kisses me so deeply I feel like I’m drowning in it. We end up on the floor, and I’m not sure if it’s because we moved or if we just melted into it. I definitely feel boneless as Declan pulls away from the kiss and trails his lips over my face and jaw. He works his way down my neck, then across the line of my shoulder, his hands moving down to grasp the hem of my shirt. When he tugs it over my head, I raise my arms to help him, and my bra vanishes a second later as Declan reaches beneath me to unclasp it and then tosses it away.
His mouth keeps moving, exploring and tasting my newly exposed skin. He wraps his lips hungrily around my right nipple, swirling his tongue around it before switching to the other. He keeps doing that until my breasts are flushed and hot from the attention, and my nipples are so hard and sensitive that I feel the scrape of his teeth against them all the way down to my clit.
Even as he keeps up the delicious torture of my breasts, his hands start moving again, making their way lower until he finds the button and fly of my jeans. He undoes them both deftly and slides a hand inside, dipping beneath my underwear and cupping my pussy.
He slides two thick fingers inside me at the same time he sucks hard on my nipple and grinds the heel of his hand against my clit, and I arch up against him, clamping my inner muscles hard around his fingers.
Declan lets out a choked breath, nuzzling his face against the soft flesh of my breast as he fucks me with his fingers. “You’re squeezing me so damn tight, Soph. So fucking tight.”
I nod dazedly, looking down at him as he drops hot kisses in a line over my stomach. When he reaches my core, he shifts his hand and presses his lips to my clit softly, making me jump. Then he sits back and tugs my pants and panties down my legs.
Love and heat burn in his eyes as he slides his hands over the bare skin of my calves and up the insides of my knees before gripping my thighs firmly. When he spreads my legs wide open, pinning them apart, my breath hitches at the possessiveness in his touch. My inner thighs clench, trying to bring my legs back together to relieve some of the ache in my clit, but he holds them firmly.
“Uh uh.” His gaze drops to my exposed pussy, which is already swollen with need, aching for his touch. “Stay wide open for me. Let me look at you.”
And for a long moment, that’s just what he does. Even though he has to feel me squirming beneath his touch, panting and practically begging for more, he takes his sweet-ass time, sitting back a little and gazing down at me.
Like he’s trying to memorize me. Like he wants to remember this moment forever.
That thought hits me in the chest like a ton of bricks. It’s an undeniable reminder of what this is, of what it means. This moment between us is about so much more than sex.
It’s love.
It’s commitment.
It’s a promise of forever, or as much of fucking “forever” as we can get with Alan doing his best to destroy us.
But every minute that I get to have with this man is a fucking gift, and even if our time is limited, I’ll never regret a second of it.
My jaw clenches, tears burning my eyes as an overload of emotions pours through me. I’ve been through the lowest lows and the highest highs today, and it makes me feel a little dazed as Declan finally lowers his head and scrapes his teeth over the line of my inner thigh. When he reaches my pussy, he laps at me slowly, sliding his tongue inside me before dragging it over my clit.
Hunger infuses every movement, but he doesn’t rush. Instead, he draws it out as long as he can, taking his time exploring me with his mouth until I’m a whimpering mess beneath him.
“Declan,” I groan, tossing my head back and forth as I reach down to slide my fingers through his hair. “Please. Fuck, please.”
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs quietly, and the warmth and promise in his voice is somehow sexy as fuck.
Picking up his tempo just a little, he finds the pattern that makes me moan loudly and repeats it over and over until I’m falling apart beneath him, my body shuddering and my breath catching as sparks of pleasure burst inside me like fireworks.
But he’s not satisfied with that.
His tongue keeps moving, finding a new rhythm before my body can adjust to the old one. He keeps licking me until the first orgasm fades, and right on its heels comes a second one, just as intense as the first. This time, instead of holding on to his hair, I reach up and grab my breasts, plucking at my nipples as my mouth drops open.
Declan’s gaze lifts to mine, and I watch his pupils dilate through the thick sweep of his eyelashes. His tongue keeps moving, so hot and wet and firm that it’s driving me out of my mind, and he groans as he watches me play with my breasts.
I can’t take it. Knowing how fucking turned on he is, knowing how badly he wants to be inside me right now? It pushes me over the edge again, and I dissolve into a quivering mess as my hips grind against his face.
My chest is heaving, but I can’t quite seem to catch my breath. Even when the movement of Declan’s tongue finally slows, my heart keeps beating so fast that it’s hard for my lungs to function.
He crawls up to hover over me, reaching down to shove his pants off before kicking them away. The lower half of his face glistens with my arousal, and when he licks his lips, my clit jolts with pleasure as if he’d licked me instead.
“You didn’t have to tell me you love me,” I whisper breathlessly, my lips curving up in a sassy smile. “You could’ve just done that, and I think I would’ve gotten the picture.”
He smiles back, then drops his head to kiss me. His cock slides against my entrance, and I jump when it brushes against my clit.
“Maybe,” he murmurs against my lips. “But I’d rather do both. Watching the woman I love come is one of my favorite things in the world.”
“Then make me come again.” I nip at his jaw as I grab his ass and pull him down toward me. “With your big, fat cock.”
He growls softly, and then his mouth is on mine again, devouring me with a deep kiss as he lines himself up and thrusts into me.
I almost come again on the spot, even though I planned to make him work for it. But my body is wound up, still riding the knife’s edge of pleasure after coming hard three times in a row. My pussy is flushed and swollen, and the feel of him driving into me is almost more than I can take.
A loud cry falls from my lips as I hook my legs around his waist, pinning his body to mine and holding him there for a second before he begins to thrust in and out.
His mouth finds the shell of my ear, his breath gusting over my skin as he moves over me, our bodies rocking together with each surge of his hips.
“I like watching you come on my tongue. I like watching you come on my cock.” He bites down on my earlobe, setting his teeth lightly into my flesh before licking away the sting. “I liked watching you come on Elias’s cock.”
The deep rasp of his voice as he says those last words makes a fresh wave of arousal flare inside me. I cling to him, wrapping my arms and legs around him and burying my face against his warm skin as I come again. It’s long and slow, rolling through my body like the tide as Declan finally lets himself go too.
“Shit. Like that. Just like that. So fucking tight.” He slams into me in several hard strokes before letting out a rough moan.
Our bodies are a little sweaty, and our skin sticks together as he grinds his hips against mine, drawing out the pleasure for both of us. Then he rolls over onto his back, bringing me with him so I’m draped over his chest.
His heartbeat thuds heavily in my ear as I rest against him, my nerves still tingling all over.
It’s beating for me, I realize, and the thought bolsters me in a way I
would never have expected six months ago.
His heart beats for me. And mine beats for him.
And no matter what my parents did to me, no matter what future heartbreaks I might face, that’s all I’ll ever need.
20
Smoking with Declan helped chill me out a bit, and having sex with him—not to mention hearing him say he loved me—helped settle the hurricane raging inside me even more.
But I’m still reeling from everything that Reagan told us by the time we put ourselves back together and head down to the kitchen to meet up with Elias and Gray. They look up when we come in, their gazes softening as they land on me, and my heart gives a comforting thud in my chest.
This.
At least I have this. Them.
A day like today would have completely wrecked me once upon a time. The news is still a hard pill to swallow, but with the Sinners standing beside me, I can process it without being ruined by it. Now that I have people I trust and love in my life, the blow of learning my family abandoned me as a little girl doesn’t hurt as badly as it once would have.
Because like Declan said, this is a family. Gray, Elias, Declan, and Max—they are my family. Not Charles and Maria Davenport, who handed me over to a monster in exchange for a favor.
“What’s going on?” I ask. I could tell by their tones as I walked in that it’s something important.
“We did a little digging while you two were upstairs,” Gray says, glancing between me and Declan. His lips twitch up in the slightest hint of a smile, heat burning in his eyes for a second, and I wonder how loud the two of us were. Then his expression turns serious as he continues. “We found your parents' address, as well as a bunch of information about their company.”
Elias nods. “We also found that your dad’s company failed about thirteen years ago… and it looked like he was going to go bankrupt, have to shut down, but then by some miracle that no one can explain, things turned around, just like that.”
