I don’t know why Pops is making light of his illness and bringing my parents into it, but I can tell by that tone that he’s not playing with me.
“Fine. I’ll go call her now.”
“You better.”
I leave the room and call Isabelle’s number from my contact list. She doesn’t answer, so I find Foster’s contact information and phone him next.
“Hey,” he answers on the second ring. “What’s up?”
“I’ll deal with the shit you pulled later, but for now just tell me what’s the status on Isabelle’s ETA. I tried to call her. Is she and the baby okay?”
“They’re fine. It was gonna take too long to send my plane there, so I booked a private charter straight from Denver. Their flight left a few minutes ago, so yeah, she can’t use her phone in transit. They’ll land in JFK in about five hours.”
I lean against the wall outside my grandfather’s private room and look up at the ceiling. A wave of relief flows through me, now that I know Isabelle is on her way back. I was a fool. If I have to spend the next ten years groveling for her forgiveness, I’ll do it wholeheartedly. I had no right allowing her to go through any of this alone. It’s my fault for not letting her in. But that baby is mine. Isabelle is fucking mine too. It’s time I accept that.
“Okay. Hey…thanks for doing this for me.”
“It’s all good, man,” he tells me. “That’s what friends do for each other.”
“All right.”
“Where are you, anyway? What’s all that shit in the background?” he asks.
“Shit, I forgot to tell you. Pops is in the emergency room here at Mount Sinai.”
“Damn. What happened?”
“He slipped and hurt his head, but he’s fine now. They’re holding him for observation.”
Foster lets out a breath. “That’s a relief. Listen, do you need me there? I can stay with him if you want to meet Isabelle when her charter lands.”
“You sure?”
“Hell yeah,” he says, and chuckles a little. “Hanging out with Pops is a breeze compared to that other stuff. You go ahead, deal with your baby momma drama.”
“All right.”
I hang up the phone and return to Pops’ room. He’s still sitting the way I left him, but the oxygen tubes are back in place.
He folds his arms and shakes his head. “I have half a mind to cut you right out of my will and replace your name with Isabelle’s, for what you put that girl through.”
“Relax, Pops. I’m taking care of it. I’m fixing things.”
“What’s this I hear about a great-grandbaby? You’re gonna hold out on your Pops like that?”
“How much did you hear from my phone call?” I ask. “The door was almost closed the whole way.”
“Boy, I’m old, not deaf. Tell me what’s going on.”
I sit on the side of the bed, and I tell him everything. From the engagement party, to Foster’s texts, leaving nothing out, except for the obvious details of what went on behind closed doors with Isabelle. After I’m done, he puts his hand on my forearm and smiles.
“Son, I’m not a big fan of your methods, but I have to say that it sounds like you’re growing up. You need to take care of a few things, like that whole part about ignoring her calls and stuff. That has to stop. Right now.”
“Your right. I won’t do that anymore.”
“Good. You’ll need to make up for that, big time. I hope she hasn’t given up on you entirely.”
“Me too.”
He squeezes my shoulder and leans back on the bed. “Go on, now. Fix this. Don’t come back here unless you have Isabelle beside you.”
I let him know that Foster will come by to keep him company, and leave for the airport.
I have a fuckton to do to make it up to my Belle.
22
Isabelle
I step off the private jet alone. The flight attendant, pilot and copilot stand behind me at the top of the steps, waiting for me to get to the tarmac. Bethany wasn’t ready to come back with me. She left for a reason. The media scarred her and the love of her life, and she hasn’t come to terms or forgiven them yet. I can relate, but only a little.
Our situations are different, though. I have this baby inside of me. My parents are here, and Knox. If only he understood how deep our connection is, how much his heart and mine are sewn together.
Maybe this time.
Foster’s gesture to bring me back here feels like kismet.
I leave the plane behind, heading to the terminal, and the air in this city feels different. Lighter. Less resistant to dreams becoming a reality. It’s all in my head, I know, but my gut says there’s something to it.
I place my hand on the glass double doors to enter the terminal and as I look up, I see him. He stands there, holding a single red rose, his eyes full of softness. There’s a hint of remorse there too, in his eyes. It’s as though my beast has been tamed, if only for the moment.
“Hi Knox,” I say to him when we’re face to face.
“Belle. I’m so sorry, gorgeous.” He takes my hand and places a thorn-free section of the rose’s stem onto my palm. “I have a lot to make up for. But let’s get you to my car so we can talk.”
Taking my hand luggage from me in one hand, he clasps his other one onto mine, guiding me through the terminal. We’re inside his sports car soon enough, and although he starts the engine and turns up the air conditioning to a comfortable temperature, he doesn’t drive away.
“Before you say anything, let me get this off my chest. Is that okay?”
I nod. There’s not much that I have to say, to be honest. I’m still so numb. This meeting is his.
“I can start in so many places, but I realize something that I need to say out loud. You’re my best friend, but more importantly, you’re my family. You always have been, and no matter how our lives play out from today and beyond, you’ll always be that to me.”
He stares out his front window, seeming to look for the right words. “I know that you’re pregnant. That’s my baby…our baby…you do want to keep him or her, right?”
I nod again because this time, even if I had something to say, I wouldn’t be able to speak through all the tears threatening to fall from my eyes.
“I’m glad. I’m not going to let our baby come into this world or grow up without me,” he says, and covers my hand with his. “I don’t want this conversation to be about the past, but I do need to share this with you, not as an excuse, but an explanation. When my parents died, it fucked me up, twisted me up inside. I was too young, you know? The shock… losing them both at the same time, not getting to see them even once before their remains were put into the ground… Pops spent the next seven years trying to help me get my mind right. I was down in a dark hole, black and deep and ominous. I couldn’t pull myself out. But Pops stuck it out… tried everything, and when none of it worked, he tried it all over again. The man never gave up on me.”
He squeezes my hand a little. “That’s how you were too. I had you and Foster, and I’ll tell you the God’s honest truth. I never would’ve made it without you. Then I went to college. I wanted to keep up what we had. I really tried, but all that darkness sucked me down so deep. You were so close to me… a huge part of who I was, and that scared the fuck out of me. Losing my parents threw me into this loop where I was bracing for another tragedy. I got to the point where I was more afraid of finding out something bad happened to you than losing our friendship. I know it sounds fucked up. What I did to you was unforgivable. Then I did it to you again a few days ago.”
He sees the tears flowing down my face, my body heaving with whimpers that wrack my chest, and gently brushes the tears away with the back of one index finger. “You have every right to leave me in your rearview mirror and never let me close again. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. That’s why I won’t ask for it. I’ll do something different instead…I’m going to earn it. Day by day until you trust me again. Can you let me do that fo
r you and our baby?”
I reach over and drop my head hard on his shoulder, and wrap my arms around him as best as I can in this car. “Yes, I can.”
He runs his shoulder down my arm, pulling me close. “And one more thing. We don’t have to put a label on us. We don’t, unless you want to. But just know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re mine.”
I don’t respond to his last statement. But I know it’s true.
“I’m not sure if Foster mentioned it, but Pops is in the hospital.”
Guilt creeps up my back. I feel horrible for not asking a thing about his grandfather. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. Is it serious?”
“Before you panic, no, it’s not serious. He had a spill and will be there overnight. I may need to go to him later on. While I was waiting for your plane to land, he told Foster to let us all know that he needs eight hours of sleep… without all of us looking over his shoulder.” Knox smiles a little for the first time since I got off the plane. “You know how he can get.”
“Yes, I’ll go with you if that’s okay.”
“Of course. For now, I’ll take you home. To my place.” He kisses me, so soft yet his touch is heavy with longing. “I hope it’s okay with you, but I’m not letting you or the baby out of my sight.”
For now, that’s exactly what I need.
23
Knox
I’ve come full circle.
At least, it feels like I have.
There’s one big difference.
Isabelle is with me, and the child she’s carrying—my child—makes us a family.
I unlock the front door of my grandfather’s house and stand on the threshold. This is my childhood home. My parents’ home, the one that Pops moved into after they died, solely to make my life a little easier. A little less uncomfortable.
I’ve already made up my mind since leaving the hospital earlier. Everything is set. I’m going to move in with Pops and make this house our home. This is the place where I’ll put down roots with Isabelle and our baby.
Our home.
We step inside and I close the door. I announce my plan for us, expecting some resistance because it’s not like I consulted with her or sought out her input on it.
She surprises me by resting her head on my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist, and says, “I love the idea. This house was your fortress. You were a different person between these walls. Stronger, calmer, more at peace than anywhere else. In hindsight, I should’ve known that your leaving for college would affect you. But that’s the past, like you said. What I like the most is that Mom and Dad are next door. They’ll be thrilled to know we kept their grandchild so close by.”
“Good.” I kiss her hair and tilt her head up to me, laying an explosive kiss on those sexy lips that I’ve fucking missed like crazy.
“I’m hard as fuck for you, but I won’t overdo it on your first day back.” I admit once our lips part. “I had Pops’ maid set up two of the main floor guest rooms for us. You must be tired from the flight.”
She nods and grips onto my dress shirt with both hands. “I am, but I’ve really missed you.”
“Me too. You don’t have to sleep alone. I’ll stay with you until Pops wakes up.” I quickly pull my phone out. “Hang on. I’ll send Foster a quick message.”
After sending the text, Isabelle takes the phone from my hand and hides it behind her back.
“You’re missing the gist of what I said,” she hums flirtatiously, her voice so thick with lust that it goes right to my cock. “I want you in my bed, but not to sleep.”
I don’t waste another second. Lifting her into my arms, I carry her to the first guest bedroom. I kick the door shut behind me and lower her to the bed. I’m painstakingly slow stripping off every piece of clothing on her body, taking my time to appreciate and memorize her every curve, line, and contour.
She’s got my baby growing in her belly, a small part of me. Probably the very best part, because it’s a pure, untainted extension of me, my parents, Pops and Grams, and everyone before them.
Already, I have only love for my child, a love I couldn’t experience if it weren’t for this gorgeous creature in my bed.
I smile at a thought and she asks me what I’m thinking about.
“It’s kind of funny. You’re carrying my child yet this feels like our first time.”
She grasps my forearms, pulling me to lie on top of her. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she whispers at my ear, then tugs my earlobe between her lips. “No more talking. Make love to me. Hard and rough, gentle and slow, it doesn’t matter. Just put your hands on me, your mouth, your body, and don’t let me go.”
That I can do.
And until she screams my name and tells me that she’s mine, I’m not fucking stopping.
I lower my head to her cleavage and pull her nipple between my teeth. She arches for me as I lick in a circular motion, and her fingers reach down to the bed, gripping fistfuls of the sheets into her hands. She’s so fucking responsive. So fucking ready.
I lift from her body and look down at the way she lies there on the bed, bare and open and ready, like pure temptation.
Mine.
She holds my gaze and I’m mesmerized by her stare, so intense that I’m not just aroused, I feel like she’s peeled back every layer of roughness protecting the smallest, most vulnerable part of me. This is the best friend I’ve always had. The woman who wielded so much power over me that I thought I had to run away to save myself. But the truth is exactly the opposite.
She fucking saved me.
My Belle.
She slowly licks her bottom lip and I have to swallow hard and force myself not to devour her too quickly. I want this time to be both slow and gentle, and hard and rough. Everything she asked for that I’ve been holding back. I want to kick myself for holding out on her after all this time. It’s been close to six weeks since we had that fuck session at the engagement party.
Six fucking weeks I wasted.
“Knox,” she moans my name. “I’m here now. You’re here. No more waiting. No more hoping. Please. I need you.”
“Tell me you’re all mine,” I order her.
“You know I am.”
“Say it, beautiful girl. Tell me.”
She runs her gaze down the length of my body, then back up to my eyes and nods. She spreads her legs wide enough for me to see her pink center, slick and ready for me. “I’m yours, Knox. I’ve always been yours.” She puts her palm on my chest above my heart. “Trust this. It knows I love you more than I can stand. And I always will.”
Like she said a few minutes ago, the time for words are over and the time for action is here. She wants me to fuck her and I’m going to give her what she wants. I turn off the part of my brain that overthinks, slip both hands under her ass cheeks, and lower onto her. She sucks in a shaky breath at the feel of my thick erection, hard and urgent as it jerks against her folds. With the tip pressed at her opening, I reach down between us, lifting just enough to cover her swollen clit with two fingers. I hear my name on her lips and flick her sensitive bud again and again, bringing her close. Her hips lift off the bed, rolling into my hand, inviting my cock deeper between her folds and driving me to the brink of insanity. Her hands hold me at my waist, fingernails gripping my skin, and when she parts her lips again, I cut off her words with my mouth, and bury myself deep inside of her.
We share one breath, and one fluid motion that transfers back and forth between us each time that I thrust into her, and pull back, deeper and harder each time.
“Yes,” she cries into my kiss as her core tightens like a fist around my shaft, tensing as she comes hard.
Each moan she makes calls to me, every satisfied whimper draws me closer. But I want to see more of her, and I want that the next time she comes, we’ll get there together. Holding onto her lower back, I roll and flip us so she’s on top of me, our bodies still connected.
&
nbsp; I raise my hand to the side of her face, flush with need and arousal now. I trace a finger up her jawline, past her neck, and take a handful of hair hostage. My other hand rests at her waist for leverage.
“Ride me. Don’t hold back.”
Her eyes snap closed. Her head falls back. Her hands press down on my abs, and she begins to do exactly as I say. Rocking as I lift her body, curving her torso as I ruthlessly drag her down my cock until I’m balls deep inside of her hot, tight pussy, clenching me harder, picking up the pace each time. We’re slick with sweat, hot and rough, so close to coming that I lift and pull one breast into my mouth.
“Come for me,” I order her against her nipple.
With that demand, she obeys. Her entire body shakes, her legs tremble, knees so wide that I can feel her inner thighs on my balls as she cries out through her orgasm.
“Yes, Belle,” I growl and flip her under me again, losing no momentum as I pound deep into her. “That’s it.”
I don’t stop claiming every fucking inch of her sweetness, over and over, until one rough, heavy thrust takes me past my limit and I come hard. I let her tightness milk me. Every drop of my seed spills so deep inside of her, if she wasn’t already pregnant, I have no doubt that I’d knock her up. Lowering to her body, I cover her with my heat and hold her as we gasp for fresh air in our lungs.
“I’m just getting started,” I whisper to her. “You want this beast to be rough, and fuck, I’ll give you all of that and more.”
She pants out a laugh and holds me tight, ready and waiting for me to take her one more time.
Epilogue - Isabelle
Two and a Half Months Later on Thanksgiving
* * *
I’m close to five months pregnant. I’m huge.
Knox and I are over at my Mom and Dad’s place for Thanksgiving weekend. I dragged him here and joked that he was my pawn this time—payback from Independence Day weekend.
Beauty and her Billionaire Beast Page 14
