by Marie Force
“How can you feel that?” I ask, irritated by her insight.
“I speak Emmett. I know the signs. Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me how you feel.”
“Do I have to?”
She rolls her eyes. “We’re in a relationship now. You said so yourself. So yes, you do.”
“Me and my big mouth.”
She pokes my chest. “Talk.”
I want to run and hide. I want to avoid her and those eyes that see the very heart of me. How does she do that? “You scared the living fuck out of me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize for what that monster did.”
“I’m not apologizing for him. I’m sorry I put you through such an ordeal. If it’d been you, I wouldn’t have been able to hold it together.”
“Yes, you would. You’re way stronger than I am.”
She squeezes my bicep. “We both know that’s not true.”
“You’re stronger on the inside. I’m a fucking disaster.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I really am.”
“It’s because you care too much.”
“I know! I hate that!”
She laughs and then winces, bringing her hands to her head as if to hold it in place. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“You’re going to survive feeling this way about me, you know.”
“I don’t know if I am.”
“You are. I promise.”
“Don’t make promises and then almost get yourself killed. That’s not fair.”
“You’re being very silly.”
“No, I’m not! I’m dead serious.”
Linking her fingers with mine, she gazes into my eyes. “A bad thing happened, and it scared us both, but I’m fine, we’re fine, everything is fine.”
“Keep saying it. Maybe I’ll eventually believe it.”
“You know what I want to do when I feel better?”
“Learn to surf?”
“Definitely. But I also want to meet Elena. Will you take me to see her?”
For a moment, I’m too stunned to formulate a reply.
“Emmett? Is it okay that I want to meet her?”
“Ah, yeah, of course.”
“So you’ll take me to see her?”
“As soon as you feel up to it.”
She smiles and closes her eyes, keeping her tight grip on my hand. “Good.”
We’re asleep later that afternoon when my phone rings. I can’t believe I’m sleeping in the middle of the day, but I’m drained after the ordeal of yesterday. The call goes to voicemail before I can get to it.
The phone rings again, and I grab it, getting up to take it out of the bedroom so Leah will sleep for a while longer.
Still shaking off sleep, I take the call without looking at the caller ID. “Emmett Burke.”
“It’s Liza.”
“What’s up?”
“There’s, ah, some photos that were posted online.”
I’m still trying to shake off the stupor from the deep sleep. “What kind of photos?”
“Leah with guys. She’s um…”
My brain immediately awakens to what she’s telling me. No way. No fucking way. This can’t be happening. “How many?”
“Three. They’re capitalizing on the fact that she’s Marlowe’s assistant.”
I cringe at the thought of Leah and Marlowe being dragged through the mud.
“I reported the photos as abuse to the sites where they’re posted, and I’m trying to get them taken down. Can you have one of your people file an injunction? Quickly?”
“Yeah.” I need to think like an attorney, but as the man in love with the woman being publicly humiliated, all I can think of is her and how this will devastate her. “Ask Jonah to handle it, will you?” I say, referring to one of the lawyers who works for me. “Tell him to call me if he needs me.”
“We’ll take care of it.”
They’d do what they could, but the damage would be done nonetheless. She’d be devastated to hear about this, and as I return to the bedroom, I think about the many ways I can legally stick it to the bitches who continue to torture her. I can make their lives the same living hell they made hers with civil litigation that’ll bankrupt them. I’ll definitely do that, and I’ll fucking enjoy every second of it. I’ll make those bitches sorry they ever messed with my Leah.
My Leah…
Christ, I’m truly sunk, and as I return to bed and curl up next to her, I can’t bring myself to care that she’s got her hooks so deep into me that I’ll never get free of her.
The last place I want to be is free of her.
“Why are you fuming?” she asks, her voice scratchy, sleepy and sexy.
I start to deny it, but then I remember who I’m talking to. “Just some shit from work.”
“What kind of shit?”
“The legal kind.” I decide not to tell her. Not right now anyway, not while she’s still recovering from a concussion and the trauma of her accident. “Go back to sleep for a while. We’ve got nothing to do and nowhere to be.”
“You must be bored hanging out here with me.”
I grunt out a laugh. “Bored is one thing I never am when my sexy little pit bull is around.”
Her eyes are closed, but a wicked smile stretches across her face. That smile lights up my world. I’d kill to protect her, and once I know she’s dozed off, I get busy on my phone, directing my team to wage war on her behalf. I have no doubt that my employers would wholeheartedly approve of my strategy.
It takes three days for me to feel human again and another two for me to get somewhat back to normal. On the fifth day, we get word from the LAPD that Tom was arrested in Yuma, Arizona, and we breathe a deep sigh of relief to know that he’s been taken into custody and can’t hurt me or anyone else. He’ll be charged with attempted vehicular manslaughter, and Emmett is confident that because he tried to run once, he won’t be granted bail.
During those five days, Emmett never leaves me for even a minute. He works from home the entire time I’m laid up. I hear him on the phone first thing in the morning and late into the night. Whatever “legal shit” he’s dealing with must be significant, because he’s given it a lot of time.
I’ve asked him what’s going on, but he just says it’s nothing for me to worry about. The more he says that, the more I begin to worry. Also, no one will tell me what went on in Nebraska. Natalie checks on me daily and will only say that we’ll talk about Nebraska later. All I know is they’re back in LA. She’s worried about me, but I’m worried about her.
I step out of the shower and remove the plastic bag I’ve been using to keep my wrist brace dry. I also have to wash my hair around the bandage that covers the stitches at my hairline, which is harder than it sounds. The wrist brace and the limited use of my left hand have been almost worse than the concussion. You never know how much you use your hands until one of them is unavailable.
Emmett comes into the bedroom carrying a steaming mug of coffee fixed just the way I like it.
“Thank you.”
“You’ve got some pink back in your cheeks.” He strokes a finger over my cheek, and that slight touch is enough to remind me of where we left off before my accident.
I put the coffee on a bedside table, step closer to him, slide my arms around his waist and kiss his bare chest. “Hi.”
“Hi there.”
I can hear the amusement in his voice. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been right here the whole time.”
“Yes, you have, but I’ve missed you.” I cup his cock to let him know what I mean.
The sound that comes from him is barely human. He grasps my hand and moves it away.
“What?” I ask, hurt and slightly perplexed.
“You’re not ready for that yet.”
“Yes, I am.”
�
�No, you’re not.”
“Why do you get to decide that?”
“Because I know what’s best.”
“You’re my live-in fuck buddy, not my mother, and as my fuck buddy, your job is to fuck me on demand. I am demanding.”
“I am declining.” He turns and walks away.
Stunned by the rejection, I work around the brace on my wrist to tie the belt on the robe of his that I’ve borrowed and follow him out of the bedroom to the kitchen where he’s set up shop at the bar. I walk right up to the countertop to see what’s kept him so engaged in his work. The first thing I see has me stopping in my tracks.
“Wh-where did you get that?” I ask of a photo I never expected to see again. I’m so shocked to see it that I go cold all over, as if I’ve been dropped into a tank of freezing water.
He spins around. “Leah…”
“Tell me where you got that!” I’m screaming, but I can’t help it. That photo takes me right back to the living nightmare of my high school years, and I can’t for the life of me imagine what the hell he’s doing with it.
“Helene Gaspar posted it and others after the accident.”
That name is like an ice pick to my heart. She was the worst of the bitches who made my life hell in high school. “Sh-she, she…”
“She posted it and intimated she had others she’d be willing to sell. She wanted to profit from the fact that Marlowe’s assistant was in the news after the accident.”
“When did this happen?”
“Four days ago. We’ve been all over it with an injunction and a civil defamation suit.”
“Four days? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were in so much pain and recovering from your accident. I didn’t want to worry you with this. I took care of it. Your old pal Helene has been served with a massive lawsuit that should have her shitting her pants with fear. We’re asking for five million in damages. And I made sure we publicized the lawsuit so anyone else who has pictures of you will think twice before they release them.”
He’s waged war on my behalf, and I had no idea it was even happening.
“Are you pissed?” he asks, looking so vulnerable that all the starch goes out of me. What does it matter that he kept it from me when he was busy making it go away?
“With you? No. I’m thankful. I can’t believe you did this.”
“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to let her drag you through the mud. She’s already caused you enough heartache for one lifetime.”
I thought I loved him before, but this is a whole other level.
He takes a step back from me. “Wait… What’re you doing? You know how I feel about girl tears.”
“These are happy tears.” I step toward him, curl my good arm around his neck and bring him down for a kiss. “The last time she came at me, I had no one to defend me.”
“Now you do.” He is as fierce as ever, but it’s different now. There’s tenderness and love, too, and the love is the most overpowering thing I’ve ever experienced. “I’ll always defend and protect you.”
“This is starting to feel an awful lot like a real relationship.”
Smiling, he says, “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“Happy to.” He wraps his arms around me and kisses me with almost a week’s worth of pent-up desire pouring forth in one momentous kiss, quite possibly the best kiss I’ve ever received because I know he loves me, even if he can’t say so. I know it with the same certainty that I know the sun will come up tomorrow. His love is like the sun. It lights up my life and warms me through and through. It’s everything I want and need.
“Take me to bed, Emmett.”
“It’s too soon.”
“No, it’s not. I’m fine. I swear.”
He studies my face in that intense way of his before wrapping his arms around me and lifting me off my feet to carry me to the bedroom, putting me down on the bed. God, I love when he does that.
I untie the belt of my robe and let it fall open, revealing every part of me to him.
His gaze is hungry and fierce.
I ache for him. It’s funny how I thought I was too young for forever with anyone until I spent a couple of weeks with Emmett. Now I can’t imagine my life without him for one hour, let alone one day.
He is achingly tender, his lips skimming over my skin with a reverence that sets me on fire.
Every part of me is engaged, enthralled, enraptured as he draws my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. This isn’t about domination. It’s about love so pure and so real it steals the breath from my lungs and every thought from my mind that isn’t about him. He gives my other breast the same sweet treatment before kissing his way down the front of me, propping my legs on his shoulders and destroying my composure with his tongue and fingers.
I come so hard that I scream.
And then he’s pushing into me, slowly, carefully, giving me time to adjust to his length and width, making sure that nothing he does hurts me—ever. This is bliss. This is perfection. He is everything.
I wrap my arms around him, wishing I could rip the bulky brace from my wrist because I can’t hold him the way I want to.
“Does anything hurt?”
“No, but something aches.”
That smile… It ruins me. I would literally do anything to make him smile like that as much and as often as I can for the rest of my life.
He takes his time entering me fully, and by the time he’s fully seated in me, I’m having one orgasm after another, an uncontrollable wave of pleasure that makes my head spin.
“You’re making me crazy,” he mutters, his lips brushing against my ear and setting off fireworks throughout my body. Groaning, he begins to move faster, his fingers digging into my shoulder and hip as he holds me in place for his fierce possession.
All I can do is lie there and take it, surrendering to him. Another huge orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave of pleasure so sharp and so intense that my mind goes blank as my body seizes.
Emmett tightens his grip on me when he comes, and when he collapses on top of me, I hold him as close as I can.
“Leah…”
“I know. Me, too. Me, too.”
“You can’t ever leave me. I’d never survive it.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
I’ve got the man of my dreams in my arms and in my bed. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here with him.
Forever.
Epilogue
The following Sunday, I take Leah to meet Elena. When Leah first asked me if she could meet Elena, I wanted to say no, thinking it would be best to keep my two worlds separate, but I knew my little pit bull would never stand for that. So I said yes, and now we’re driving to Pacific Palisades in my car with the windows open. The sun beats down upon us, and a warm breeze billows through the car on another perfect Southern California day. We’re listening to Metallica on blast, just the way she likes it. I’m more of a classic rock kind of guy and could take or leave heavy metal, but she loves it, so I put up with it.
Leah holds my hand as I drive. If she’s near me, she’s touching me, which is something I wouldn’t have thought I’d like before she showed me otherwise. I crave her touch, her attention, her smiles, her cheeky commentary, her laughter, her sweet, sexy body. I crave everything about her.
For the first time in my professional life, work is a chore to be endured so I can get back to her. Our friends have been relentless in their ball-busting about my new shorter work hours, but I couldn’t care less. I leave at the stroke of five thirty every day, insisting she do the same, so we can spend every possible minute together. She’s recovered well from the accident, her biggest complaint now being that the cut on her forehead is itchy as it heals.
We bought a waterproof wrist brace and a wet suit for her, and I’ve been teaching her to surf. It’s no surprise to me that she’s taken to it like the proverbial fish to w
ater. She has the perfect build for surfing, and an athletic streak that’s never been fully explored before now. She’s also taken to joining me in the gym at five a.m., bitching and grumbling about the ridiculous hour the entire time we’re there.
I love every second of her bitchy morning grumpiness that only I ever get to see, as much as I love the nonsense she mutters in her sleep.
I love everything about her.
I just wish I could tell her that. The words are right there, burning the tip of my tongue with their presence, but every time I start to say them, I freeze, as if something horrible will happen if I go there. So I don’t go there. I can only hope she knows how I feel. I do everything I can think of to show her how much I love her every chance I get, but what if actions aren’t enough for her? What if she needs the words I can’t seem to give her? That fear is the only dark cloud hanging over my blissful existence with her.
She doesn’t seem discontented in any way. In fact, she seems exceptionally happy to have totally gotten her way and made me her bitch. I love being her bitch.
Leah turns down the radio. “You’re tense,” she says, squeezing my hand.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Are you nervous about me meeting Elena?”
“No.”
“A little maybe?”
I shrug and glance over to find her watching me closely. “You know what to expect, right? She looks like a grown adult, but she’s very childlike.”
“I know.”
I tell her I’m not tense, but I am. I’m nervous, and I’m not sure why. Leah will be great with Elena, and Elena will love that I brought a new friend for her to meet. So what’s my problem? I’m not sure exactly. All I know is that I’m on edge about bringing the two of them together, and I’ll be glad when it’s done.
We arrive at the cheerful facility I handpicked for Elena after telling her working-class parents I’d provide for her. I’d never met them before the night Drew beat her up, so they hadn’t known what to make of this wealthy friend of hers who’d decided to step up for them. I’ve never told them about the role I played in what happened to her, because I was afraid they wouldn’t let me participate in her care if they knew I’d thrown gas on Drew’s fire ahead of the beating. I needed to do this for her, so I kept my mouth shut about the details.
