With Brave Wings

by Cara Dee

  This was his fault. If his jealousy hadn't caused him to be such a prick, she wouldn't be walking on eggshells right now, which was clearly what she was doing.

  "I didn’t mean to push you away," he told her quietly, standing up. "I just can't stand the thought of you with someone else."

  "I'm sorry." She stared at her feet. "You have no idea how sorry I am."

  "Don’t do that." Infuriated with himself and the goddamn situation, he took a step toward her and lifted her chin. "Don't apologize. I acted out of jealousy and anger, and I believe you. You wouldn’t hurt me, I know that. But I have to clear my head, all right? I need distance so I can get over this anger, because I don't want to take it out on you."

  "No," she replied forcefully. "You don’t get to do that anymore. I'd rather get caught in the crossfire and solve everything than…than this. You pulling away, you pushing shit down. I'm not looking for a damn gentleman. I just want you. So if you've got a problem, speak the fuck up."

  He was impressed and stunned to silence. Would she ever cease to amaze him?

  "I'm gonna leave," she said, rubbing her temple. "I've already used my quota of curse words in front of our son, and I have scenes to work on. But…please don’t shut me out. I can't handle it, Tennyson. I was a wreck last night when I came back and saw you with Kayden. You couldn’t even sleep in the same bed as me? That hurts."

  He waited until she had closed the door to their bedroom before he slumped down on the couch and groaned into his hands.

  Kayden scooted close and touched Tennyson's cheek. "Daddy?"

  "Daddy's a moron, bug." The sound of his voice was muffled by his hands. "It's quite possible your mother's more mature than I am."

  Hindsight, eh?

  He needed to open his fucking mouth and talk to her.

  *

  Unfortunately, work took time away from them. Tennyson was on set for twenty-four hours straight, and then he had four hours of sleep before it was time for Sophie's first scene.

  It wouldn’t be the first scene of her in the film, but the first one before her character realized her brother had tracked her down in London where she lived with her British husband.

  Tired and jittery from all the coffee he'd consumed, Tennyson went through the angles of the upcoming takes while the crew got everything ready for the funeral scene.

  One of the rewrites he'd gotten approved by the studio was that he wanted Sophie's character to be pregnant. It would bring Judah's performance—or rather, his heinous acts—to a whole other level of terrifying.

  Now Tennyson got to see her with a rounded belly again, fake as it was, and it only fueled his possessive need to behave like a dog and mark his territory.

  Standing by the monitor and waiting for Noah's reports, he watched Sophie and Judah being complete goofs. Someone had cranked up the volume of whatever radio station was playing in the makeup trailer, resulting in some slow-motion dance moves from Tennyson's two leads.

  He guessed their dinner had gone well the other night.

  "Should we remind them that this is a real cemetery?" the script supervisor asked with a wry smirk.

  "Nah." He smiled faintly, admiring Sophie behind his shades. Since she'd arrived the day before yesterday, the atmosphere had lifted on the set. "I haven't seen Judah this comfortable. Have you?"

  It was all Sophie.

  "Okay, we're ready, boss." Noah jogged over. "Oh, and the dude documenting for the behind-the-scenes material wonders if he can interview you later."

  "Sure." Tennyson got ready and turned his focus to the film crew while his second AD got the extras on their marks outside the small church.

  Sophie retied her snug, black trench coat and bent over to brush off some dust from her high heels. "Oh, that didn’t work." Her fake baby bump evidently made it difficult.

  Tennyson glanced over at the tree line where Judah would be spying on his sister. "Can someone run over and tell Judah to remove his sunglasses? The sun will give off a glare."

  "I'll do it." An assistant scurried away.

  In the meantime, Tennyson walked over to Sophie and the bit player who would be portraying her husband.

  "Gill," he addressed the man, "remember my changes from rehearsals. Be concerned but don't feed her paranoia. Your focus is on the baby."

  "Paranoia." Sophie sniffed. "My psycho brother is killing all my friends. I believe my paranoia is justified."

  He winked at her.

  Gill nodded. "Got it."

  Tennyson jogged back to the monitor as the set finally cleared, and Noah yelled for the cameras to roll.

  "Action!" Tennyson eyed the screen, and Sophie and Gill strolled slowly away from the church, Sophie visibly upset.

  Extras walked the same route but stayed in the background.

  "I know what you're thinking, love," Gill murmured. "All this worrying isn't good for our son."

  "Can you blame me, though?" She looked up at Gill, pleading with him to understand her fears. "I left New York for a reason, and this is the fourth death. You know what he did back home."

  "So you automatically suspect your brother?" Gill asked skeptically. "I thought he was receiving treatment in a facility he could not leave."

  Sophie released a breath and looked away, and Tennyson nodded at the camera assistant. The screen was divided, so he saw one of the two cameras zoom in on Judah by the trees.

  "Fuck." Sophie's curse made Tennyson look up, and he called cut. "Sorry," she apologized. "I forgot my next line."

  "It's all right." He jerked his chin at the script supervisor, who delivered the line to Sophie. Tennyson took the opportunity to chug some lukewarm coffee. "From the top, people!" He leaned close and spoke to Noah, since the script supervisor was busy. "Make a note at the sixteen-second mark. Her anxiousness when she looked away was perfect."

  "Agreed." Noah gave the go-ahead to the cameramen as Sophie and Gill returned to their mark. "Cameras rolling!"

  The take, scene, and production were announced, and then Tennyson yelled for action.

  *

  When Tennyson got off work that day, he was only supposed to nap on the couch for a few hours so he could share a late dinner with Sophie. Instead, he slept through most of the night, and it was almost four in the morning when he dragged his exhausted ass into the bedroom.

  Seeing her sleeping in the large bed, hugging a pillow, drained the last of his energy. Given the few nights they'd actually had together since they became official, it was absurd how much he physically ached unless he could have her next to him.

  He stripped down to boxer briefs and slipped under the covers, quick to replace her pillow with himself. There was a small light still on on the nightstand, but he couldn’t be bothered to switch it off.

  He let out a long breath and hugged her to him.

  When had Sophie turned into his home?

  "Wha…" she mumbled something and then lifted her head from his chest, blinking drowsily. "Tennyson, what—um." She blinked again. "You're here."

  "Where I'm supposed to be." He dropped a few sleepy kisses along her hairline. "Sleep, baby. I'll take the morning off—we can talk then."

  "Promise?"

  "I promise." He kissed her nose and slid a hand down her back, not stopping until he cupped a soft, toned ass cheek in his hand. Squeeze. "Mine." At first, it had been an attempt to keep it light. But now… He kissed her one more time, telling himself it was the last one. Then he'd let her sleep. Yet, one more turned into two, and he couldn’t stop his hands from wandering.

  "Kinda hard to sleep when you're groping me." She giggled, and the relief in her eyes nearly did him in. She'd really been worried, and it was his fucking fault. But his anger wouldn’t leave him.

  "I hate that you were with Josh," he whispered.

  Her face fell. "I'm so, so sorry. I swear, I never slept with him, and—"

  "I know." He buried his face in the crook of her neck and admitted he'd listened in on her conversation with Brooklyn. He to
ld her the truth, how much he'd heard, all while struggling to keep his body under control.

  He had questions any sensible woman would slap him for asking, though that didn’t stop him.

  "Did you think about fucking him?" He rolled on top of her and palmed one of her breasts roughly through her flimsy top. "Did you want him inside you?"

  Sophie shook her head and stared at him. Maybe she knew what he needed, maybe she was figuring it out, maybe she was confused as fuck. "I couldn’t," she said softly.

  "Why?" His teeth grazed her nipple before he sucked it into his mouth—hard—leaving a wet spot on the fabric.

  "Oh!" She gasped and arched her back.

  "Answer me," he growled.

  "Because he's not you, Tennyson." She squirmed under him, her small hands settling along his biceps. He didn’t know whether she was trying to push him off or keep him in place. "No one is. Just you."

  He sat back between her legs and pulled down her panties. "Where did he put his mouth on you? Here?" He cupped her pussy. "Did you let him suck on your clit?"

  "No. We only kissed once." She shook her head quicker this time. "He didn’t get under my clothes at all."

  Good. Fuck, that was good.

  He fingered her slowly, creating little sounds as she got wetter and wetter. "Where did he touch you?"

  "Um, he…he—we were on the couch, and he was on top of me."

  Anger flared, and Tennyson chuckled darkly. "So he was all over what's mine." The relief lingered after learning their clothes hadn't come off, but that didn't stop him from flipping Sophie over and drawing her back so she was on all fours. "Did he touch your ass?" Bunching up her top, he inhaled the scent of her bath products and kissed her spine.

  "Only a little," she whispered.

  He had officially gone crazy, but he loved her even more for humoring him with this. He couldn’t help it; he needed to get all his facts straight, reclaim what he loved almost as much as their son, and then he'd be able to move on. Put this behind him.

  "Was it like when I touch you?" He spread her delectable ass cheeks and lowered his face to kiss the entire length of her sex, not counting her clit. He wasn’t going near that until she was begging.

  "Nothing is." She gasped as he softly swiped the tip of his tongue over her ass. "Oh my God, Tennyson. I'm so sorry for hurting you—"

  "Stop." He spoke in a quiet, gruff voice as he continued eating her out. "I don't want you to regret your actions, because you did nothing wrong. I just want you to forget them."

  "I did that the second I became yours again."

  "Fuck," he whispered. "I'm glad." All his. He groaned against her sweet-tasting, wet flesh and began tongue-fucking her gently. But he kept getting distracted by her perfect little ass. He licked her upward, slowly, drawing it out, and sensed her shiver when he gave her tightest opening an openmouthed kiss. "What if I wanted to fuck you here one day?"

  "I'd let you," she whimpered. "You'd be the first I trust not to hurt me. The first and only."

  She knew exactly what to say. She was fueling him, feeding him, but he knew she wouldn't spout off bullshit just to please him.

  Goddamn yes, he'd push his cock deep inside there one day. Something foreign to the both of them, a mindless fantasy from the past turned into a need only because it was this girl.

  "Time to get this top off of you." He yanked her back to his chest and pulled the top over her head. Then he kissed her shoulder and neck while he reached around her and squeezed her breasts together. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, Sophie. For hurting you." He switched to kiss her other shoulder. His eyes closed as he breathed her in. His fingers pinched her nipples, and his cock grew impossibly harder from her reactions. She was so fucking sensitive. "It was a dick move, and I let my jealousy control me."

  He kissed her lower, between her shoulder blades, enjoying every dip and every curve. Then he opened his eyes, only to frown.

  There was ink. The silhouette of what looked like three little sparrows.

  "Finally seen it, huh?" Sophie let out a small, breathy laugh. "I have more than that one."

  "Show me," he demanded. It was suddenly getting difficult to breathe.

  She showed him. She lay down and explained the birds represented her family, she showed him the feather and the word "Love" within the infinity symbol, and she showed him the tiny "Family" and the heart inked on the inside of her ring finger.

  Much like when Tennyson found out he was becoming a father, there were no words. He kissed her instead. He crushed her to his body and kissed her for all he was worth. He thanked her. He apologized to her. He forced his cock deep inside of her and told her how much he loved her.

  The way they could move together was hypnotic, and Tennyson's head swam with only her. Images, memories, dreams, plans.

  She rolled on top and rode him sensually, taking her time, seemingly as lost in pleasure as he was. Sitting up, Tennyson cupped her breasts and kissed her skin, eliciting the sweetest fucking moans from her. Her head lolled back, exposing her neck. Perspiration dampened their bodies.

  "I love you." She fell forward again and kissed him hard, hungrily.

  He swallowed a groan and slid his palms up her back, holding her tightly. "You humble me." He gazed at her, his eyes flitting across her features. He'd always see a whole world behind her beauty. He saw her entire story, how much she'd grown, how much she continued to help others, and how much she'd brought Tennyson out of his own shell.

  "Why would you say something like that?" She smiled curiously and leaned close, their noses touching.

  "Because it's true." Flipping them over, he took control again and drove in deep, causing her to gasp. "You're not only my equal, but you're someone I look up to."

  Once he had gotten to know Sophie better, he'd never, ever thought of her as anything beneath him. He'd judged her poorly at one point, and now there were times he almost felt unworthy of her love. But instead of letting that get to him, he fought. Fought to be better, a version of himself he strived to be, one he actually loved himself.

  And wasn’t that what the best relationships were about? Bringing out the best in one another?

  "That goes both ways." She palmed his cheek, to which he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her hand. "You make everything so much easier. Being alone…" She sucked in a breath and mock-scowled when he ground into her and stimulated her clit. He smirked. "Being alone didn’t give me awesome orgasms," she said cheekily.

  "That’s not what you were going to say," he chuckled, out of breath.

  "No, but you ruined the moment!"

  "How can this be ruined?" He grinned. "We're having great sex and we're laughing like we're in a cheesy rom-com. Which, by the way, feels fucking amazing on my cock."

  That made her moan, and her body melted into the mattress. "Those rom-coms were once my livelihood."

  Tennyson hummed and dipped low to taste her neck. "We should do a movie night when we get home. My early work that makes me cringe and your romantic comedies."

  "Oh my God," she giggled breathlessly. "Now you're really killing the buzz, honey."

  Well, we can't have that.

  "Let me fix that." He grunted and pulled out, then sat back on his heels and stroked his cock. "Get on all fours and tell me what you were going to say earlier. About being alone."

  "Ooh, Daddy's in charge again. He's my favorite." She wriggled her ass at him and grinned over her shoulder.

  "Then fucking obey him." Tennyson raised a brow.

  "Yes, sir." She faced forward and spread her knees farther, opening up more for him. Fuck. "As painful as it was, being alone did me good. But I never wanna go through that shit again."

  "You don’t have to, princess." He inched closer and slammed home.

  "Shit!" she cried out.

  With a tight grip on her hips, he fucked her over and over. He gave in to both their desires and cranked it up by making all kinds of promises for the future. They were going to fuck each oth
er senseless in his Jacuzzi in Mendocino. They were definitely going to recreate their artwork, and this time by actually fucking on a canvas. It would hang in their bedroom with the first one they'd made.

  "I want us to go to premieres together." He leaned forward and sank his teeth into her neck. "I want your panties wet, your pussy leaking of my come. You'll smile like a good girl for the cameras, but I'll know you'll be thinking of what we did in the limo on the way to the red carpet."

  "Yes, yes—God, yes," she groaned. "I love it when I'm your precious little slut."

  "Fuck," he spat out. Her comment sent him into a frenzy, his mind drowning in filthy fantasies. Fisting Sophie's hair, he pulled her back and held her like that as he drilled into her. "Can you imagine the sound? Your panties soaked with me—" He drew a ragged breath and began rubbing her clit with his free hand. "I'd sneak my hand between your thighs and spank the wet spot."

  Sophie trembled and let out a keening wail.

  Gritting his teeth, he tried to hold on for as long as he could. He could fuck her forever, if only his body would let him. His orgasm churned, the buildup making him sweat and tense up.

  His muscles ached.

  When she cried out and fell apart, he lost his battle. They both collapsed on the bed, Sophie writhing underneath him as they came.

  "Fucking hell…" He swallowed dryly, more spent than after a four-hour climb. A shudder ripped through him as her pussy constricted around him. "Get it," he whispered huskily, rocking deeper. "Get all of it."

  She released a labored breath, shaky and shallow, and Tennyson couldn’t help but hope they could really start trying for another baby soon. They already had sex unprotected, but she'd been gone too much for his liking.

  He was ready for ovulation timers and period schedules, and he half joked about it once he'd pulled out and gathered her in his arms. It was too hot in the room to draw the covers over them, so he enjoyed the view of her naked body draped over his.

  To his surprise, though, she spluttered a giggly laugh at his comment about period tracking, and he poked her in the ribs and cocked a brow at the cheeky shit.

  "Did I say something funny?" The corners of his mouth lifted.