So close.
But I don’t want to let go yet. I could stay buried inside her all night, all day…until the sun comes up and goes down and does it again.
And again.
My body trembles and the blood rushes through my veins, to my tip, and I explode. I come so hard, spilling my seed inside her as my head drops forward.
When I open my eyes, I look at the crushed rose between us, and she raises it to her nose.
“I’ve never done that before.” She inhales the scent, but I don’t move.
I stay in place, knowing she’ll become a sticky mess when I pull out. “Done what?”
“Sex without a condom.”
Jesus. “Are you on the pill?” Shit, what was I thinking? I’ve never been careless. Ever.
“Yeah, I am, but I’ve always, you know, stayed safe.” Her lips curve into a smile. “It was incredible.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Neither was I—for a change.”
I lift off her. “You want to clean up?”
“Mm hm.” She slides out of bed and goes to the bathroom.
After a few moments, she comes back to me and gently wipes a warm wet rag between my thighs, around my tip. I pull my gaze from her and peer at the tie on the floor.
“And what dirty ideas are going on in that head of yours?” She stands, tosses the towel on the floor, and places her hands on her hips.
I want to grab her, pull her on top of me, and have her ride me hard and fast until she’s screaming. A good scream this time, not like on the boat. Still a freeing one, though…
“Well?” She arches a dark brow.
I’d like to tie her hands to the headboard as I go down on her, but I’m worried the idea of being tied up will remind her of Greece, so I don’t suggest it.
And then I get an idea.
“Pick up the tie,” I say, my voice throaty and nearly hoarse as my body tenses.
She goes to the floor and bends down, and I have a beautiful shot of her ass. I grip my shaft and tug it a little, unable to stop myself.
“Mm. What do you propose we do with this?” She dangles it in the air and stands by the bed.
I keep pumping, preparing my body, while I take her wrist with the other hand. “We can pretend it’s tomorrow.”
She angles her head in curiosity, but then her eyes light up with recognition as her mouth forms an O. “I can finally have my way with you?” She bites her lip.
She really needs to hurry before I change my mind.
“Tie me up. Whatever you’d like.”
“I want you to see the things I’m going to do to you.” She shoots me a smile. “Hands it is.”
I offer her my wrists as she climbs on top of me. She straddles my hips and binds my hands with the tie but keeps them resting on my chest.
She looks me straight in the eyes. “I want you to be able to pull my hair if you want to while I take you into my mouth.”
I harden more than I thought possible as she lowers herself between my thighs. And when she darts her tongue up and down my dick, keeping her eyes on me—my neck lifted, straining so I can see her—I realize there’s something different about her.
Something has changed.
I think she’s finally free.
19
Noah
“Are we sure we can’t resolve this through mediation? It seems a little crazy to drag this to court when we all know how it will end.” Sarah doesn’t waste time getting down to business.
I was supposed to be officially divorced today, and now I’m still married and—
“My client would love to if Mr. Dalton agrees to her new terms,” Cindy’s lawyer cuts off my thoughts.
“And what are your client’s terms?” Sarah asks, her voice sharp.
“If the divorce is wrapped up in a timely manner, and Lily is allowed to take on the last name of Mr. Fletcher—your client can keep his Sundays,” her lawyer explains, but I can’t take my eyes off Cindy.
The rage inside me is hard to conceal as my hands clench into fists on the desk.
“No name change. And every weekend,” I respond, even though I was supposed to let Sarah do the negotiating.
“My client is being very generous given the situation.” Cindy’s lawyer leans back in his seat.
What the hell is he talking about?
Cindy sighs. “Noah, you didn’t open the envelope, did you?” Her green eyes find me, and her brows pinch together.
“The custody petition?” But the second I say the words, deep in my gut, I know I’m wrong.
“Not just that.” Cindy closes her eyes. “Six and a half years ago, I got drunk three weeks before you came home from a tour of duty, and I slept with some guy.”
Her betrayal isn’t shocking. She’s a cheat, I know this, but…
Her lawyer produces a piece of paper and slides it across the table to Sarah.
My whole world is spinning.
Bright lights flash before my eyes.
My stomach twists.
A pop-pop-pop in my head. Like gunfire.
My world fucking shatters.
I can see blood as if it’s dripping down the window behind Cindy, instead of the rain.
“This is a paternity test, Noah,” Sarah says, but her words are so faint, I can barely hear them.
I stand and find the door, rushing out of the room while pressing my palm to the wall to guide me.
And the next thing I know, I’m throwing up in a sink in the men’s bathroom.
I grip the edges of the marble slab and finally look at my reflection. My body is shaky, my insides throbbing with a fierce intensity. Pain is everywhere. In my legs, my fingers, my head…
I cup the water beneath the faucet and splash it on my face.
Deep breaths. Deep fucking breaths.
I’m still in a daze when I finally make it back to the conference room. I stand in the doorframe, unable to enter. I don’t want to be in the same room as Cindy.
Everyone’s still sitting, and Sarah’s looking at me, her eyes narrowed with sympathy.
I swallow and blink a few times. I want to scream, to yell until I strip away the truth—I want to go back to the lie.
“I’m sorry, Noah. You should have opened the envelope. With the petition was the paternity paperwork,” Cindy says. Her voice is calm. So fucking calm.
I press a hand inside the doorframe to keep myself upright. “How long have you known?”
“I had the test run after she was born,” she answers so fast as if she’s rehearsed these lines. But I doubt it because I don’t think she would care enough to do so.
She’s known the truth for years.
I remember questioning the doctor about Cindy’s due date at the first ultrasound—the timing didn’t make sense. He said they’re not always accurate, and Cindy insisted the same.
“Now you see why you should walk away.” Cindy stands and starts toward me, but I hold up my hand. I don’t want her any closer to me. “She’s not yours to fight for.”
“The law suggests otherwise,” Sarah says, but I can barely hear her. My pulse is racing. My heartbeat is like a ticking time bomb in my chest.
I take a moment before I say, “I’ll see you in court.”
“But—” Cindy starts.
“She’s still my daughter.” I glance at Sarah. “Nothing changes.”
And I turn and leave before Cindy can say anything else.
I need to get the hell out of there before the walls close in on me and I lose my mind.
Lily is my daughter.
She’s mine.
I don’t care what anyone says. I won’t abandon her.
As I move down Fifth Avenue, I think about Lily’s smile.
I think about her laugh.
Her teddy bear with the missing eye that she used to love before her mother left it at our home when leaving me…
I’m her father.
Fuck blood.
I power off my phone and head to a
bar.
I’ve only been drunk once in my life, but right now, I need something to dull the pain.
And five Jack and Cokes later, I end up in front of Jessica’s door, ringing the bell.
She opens it as I press a palm to the wall. “Noah? God, are you okay?”
I exhale a deep, alcohol-infused breath. “No.”
20
Grace
“I’m sorry I asked you to meet me, but I’m worried.” I’m standing in my own place as if I don’t belong here, but I’m also ruining Bella’s “big reveal” that she was so excited about. But that’s the furthest thing on my mind right now.
“No, it’s fine. I’m stressed too.” Bella nods before dialing Noah again on her cell, and I bite my thumbnail as I wait. She shakes her head a few moments later. “Still going to voicemail. And you checked his boat?”
“Yeah.” I went aboard alone, which was frightening, but I needed to know if he was okay.
“It’s been nine hours since he met with the lawyers.” Nine long hours.
Bella’s phone begins to ring, and we both flinch.
“Is it him?” I ask as she looks at her phone.
“Jessica.” She answers it. “Hi.” She looks at me, her lip tucked between her teeth. “I should come over.” She pauses as, I assume, Jessica is talking again. “Okay, yeah—well, keep me updated and thanks for letting me know. We were worried.”
It has to be about Noah.
“Yeah, Grace is here with me.” Bella looks my way. “Yeah, okay, I’ll talk to you later.”
I sit on the couch in the living room and wait for an explanation, my pulse climbing.
The way Bella squeezes the back of her neck, her brows coming together, reminds me of her brother. “Noah’s fine. He’s at her place.”
“Okay…” What does that mean? He said he’d come to me as soon as he left the lawyer’s office, so why did he go to Jessica’s?
My mind is racing, and I feel like a spool of yarn that’s come unraveled and is rolling down a hill. I’m going to be a tangled mess when this is all over, aren’t I? I knew this non-relationship with Noah was never going to be easy, but I couldn’t stop myself—and there are so many strings attached now.
So. Many. Strings.
“Things didn’t go well. Jessica says he needs some time. Some space.” She swallows.
“Oh.” But Noah kind of expected that, didn’t he? Why—
“He’s drunk,” Bella cuts off my thoughts and her lips flat line for a brief moment. “He’s going to spend the night on her couch. He’ll call us when he’s ready.”
I don’t know what to say.
“If it makes you feel better, he doesn’t even want to see me.” Her shoulders sag. “Jess is asking Luke to fly in.”
“Luke?” How bad could Noah be that he needs Luke here? What happened in that office today?
“Well, the thing is…Noah doesn’t get drunk,” she says in a low voice.
Her words have effectively paused my thoughts. The arm of the record player has lifted. The music of my mind has stopped.
Bella looks at the coffee table.
“What is it, Bella?”
“He doesn’t talk about this, and it’s not an issue anymore, but…” She blows out a breath. “Our father had a drinking problem. A long time ago. My mom stuck by my dad, though. But, uh, Noah doesn’t let himself drink too much. I guess he’s worried maybe he has the gene too.”
His parents danced—they were happy.
Grass is always greener…guess not.
“Noah’s a guarantee person, you know, so he doesn’t get drunk. Not even when Cindy first laid the news on him. Well, he was on a ship off the coast of Iran when it happened, but still.”
Coast of Iran?
“You think he’s in trouble?” I stand, not sure what to do with my hands or feet. Hell, my body. I want to be there for him the way he’s been there for me.
“He’ll be fine, but if anyone can kick his ass to make sure of that, it’s Luke. You know, SEAL to SEAL.”
I’ve never been good at biding my time. Waiting can be brutal, but I’ve never met anyone like Noah, so I’ll wait.
I’ll wait for him because what other choice do I have? When you find someone like him, you don’t let go.
It shouldn’t affect me like this. I mean, at least he texted, but it’s been forty-eight hours since he met with his ex and the lawyers.
I miss him. I want to know what he’s thinking, how he’s doing.
I read the message one more time as if the words might change.
I need some time. I’m sorry. I’ll be in touch.
“Time,” I mumble under my breath like an idiot before I look up to see Dad in my doorway. I’ve done well to avoid him since he barged into my home last week. But being at the office places a bull’s-eye on my forehead.
He’s in his jet-black suit with black pressed shirt and black tie—and no, he’s not going to a funeral…well, maybe mine. When he wears this, his goal is to intimidate, to put the fear of God into someone. And it looks as though I’m the lucky winner today.
I stand and brace against my desk, knowing I’m in for a fight.
What I don’t expect is for my mother to come walking in behind him, followed by Cade.
This has been planned. Everything they’re about to say will have been choreographed in advance, like some theatrical production. My parents only know how to do big and splashy. They don’t do subtle, not when it comes to family.
Cade sits in a chair and looks out the window at the city. He’s not in some Grim Reaper suit, at least. Mom settles on the couch near him in her a white, fitted dress, but Dad comes before me.
“If we don’t merge with the Piersons, I’m going to have to sell off a third of our assets.” Dad’s hand comes down on my desk, and I zone in on his thick platinum wedding band.
A symbol of love.
But not for my family.
“So sell. We can make up the difference.” I drag my gaze up to meet his, knowing I’ll find the eyes of a businessman, not my father, staring back at me.
His hand curls into a fist, and he pounds it on the desk. My computer screen rattles, and I back away and cross my arms as if to protect myself, even though that’s ridiculous. My dad’s a jerk, but he would never hurt me. Well, not physically at least.
Emotionally—I’m pretty damaged.
All of us kids are…
But we’re not kids anymore, right? I’ll be thirty, Cade is pushing thirty-three, and Corbin is almost twenty-eight.
And yet, Dad always finds a way to bend us to his will.
Always.
“Do you not care about your mother or me? Your family? Things aren’t so simple. We need this merger, and the Piersons won’t sign unless you’re included in the deal.”
My shoulders shudder as his words whip my skin, nearly burning me. “Do you even hear yourself?”
My lips purse as I look over his shoulder at my mom. She’s staring blankly out the window like Cade.
I can’t ever become like her.
“I’m a person, Dad.” I touch my chest and come around the desk toward him even though it feels like a dangerous move. “I’m your daughter.” I have to remind him of this because I’m beginning to wonder if he’s forgotten. “I’m not, and I will never be, part of a deal.”
“Then get engaged to the guy until we sign the dotted lines and then don’t follow through with it.” My mom is standing now, facing us with her hands on her hips. “Isn’t that the most obvious solution? You both get what you want. But maybe in time you’ll change your mind about Patrick.”
“No.” That doesn’t feel like a strong enough reply. More needs to be said. More is trying to seep through my bones, out of my body, and into the air. “I quit.”
Cade’s eyes are on Dad, curious for a reaction, which means I truly spoke those words. I wasn’t sure since Dad has yet to reply.
“I quit,” I say louder this time. I’d like to shout the
words for dramatic flair, but instead, I clutch at the material of my dress near my hips, gripping the fabric as if holding on to something will keep me grounded in my strength to stand up to this man.
“You can’t quit.” Dad lowers himself into the chair in front of my desk and angles his head to the side, studying me. He doesn’t look the least bit worried.
He’s got an ace up his sleeve.
“Corbin quits all the time.” I swallow and release the hold on my dress. If I act like a kid, my father will keep treating me like one for sure.
“And he always comes back,” Dad answers.
Blackmail? Fear? I don’t know why, but he comes back to work within a week or so of walking out the doors of the building.
I won’t come back, though. When I walk away, I’m done.
“What would you possibly do with your life?” Mom comes to my side, her eyes narrowed. “You were bred for this job.”
Bred? Is Mom smoking some medical marijuana for all the migraines Dad must be giving her? What the hell is wrong with this woman?
She wasn’t always this bad, was she?
“Think about what you’re saying.” Mom looks at Cade, but he’s still quiet, aloof in all this. Does he remember when this happened to him last year?
“I’ve been thinking about quitting for years,” I admit. And the honesty feels good.
Noah taught me that. He taught me how to speak my mind. My hand goes to my stomach when I think about him.
“Please tell me this isn’t still about that carpenter.” Dad pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head with disappointment.
“I almost died in Greece. That’s what changed me. How can you not understand that?” And Noah helped me get back to who I once was—who I want to be.
“I don’t believe you,” Mom says. “This is about that man. I can see it all over your face.” Her blue irises are darker than normal as they hold my gaze. “I told you she loved him.”
She’s directing her comment to either Dad or Cade. Probably both. They’ve clearly talked about all of this together.
Dad looks at her.
“Which means we only have one choice,” she says as their eyes meet.
Someone Like You Page 19
