That's a Relief (Promises, Promises Book 3)
Page 15
“I’m here, Seth,” she says softly.
“I’m not getting rid of the gun, Josie.” I lean my forehead against hers and feel her nod her head. For her not to fight back is unlike her, but I naively hope she’s had a change of heart instead of caving due to guilt. “If he comes near you, I fully intend to Avada Kedavra his ass. But I’m not doing it in spite of your feelings or morals. I just love you so much. It would kill me if I lost you.”
She grins, which provokes a shiver from me as her hands pull at the hair on the nape of my neck. “It’s so unfair to use a Harry Potter reference on me when we disagree.”
My lips tip upward and I guide her onto the mattress, crawling over her small body. “It’s fair. And it always seems to get the job done.” My hands move under her NCSU shirt and glide their way over each of her ribs.
“What job are you looking to get done?” she asks, all breath and insinuation.
My lips trace her jaw. “The one where I’m between your thighs, sucking and licking every sweet, savory, delicious drop coming—”
She cuts me off, forcing her mouth on mine and lifting her hips so they can rock against my visible arousal though the fabric of the flimsy towel still wrapped around me.
“We should really talk,” she throws out as I suck on the lovely skin of her collar bone.
I grip her hips firmly, hard enough to leave an indent. “Not now, Jos,” I say in a low voice next to her ear.
She moans as my hands work to take off her clothes, then she starts again. “Sethy, I really need to talk to you.”
I prop up on my elbows and look down at her. I swallow the lump forming in my throat and shake my head. What she’s about to tell me, admit to, I can’t handle it. I don’t want to know. “Are you or the baby hurt?”
“No,” she says. “But—”
“Then it can wait.” My tone is rougher than I intended. “Just let me love you, Jos. Let me show you how much I love you,” I plead, cracking slightly on my words as my chest feels painfully heavy.
With that, she finally allows herself to relax, succumbing to every touch, every kiss, every whisper of her beauty. Her skin is hot against mine and every time I move my lips over the pulse on her neck, I’m overwhelmed by the rapid beating of her heart. That I can make her feel that way. That it’s my mouth and touch that drives her crazy.
My name falls past her lips repeatedly as she tries to get a grasp on reality, and I whisper all the ways I love her against her blushing and shimmering skin. You’re gorgeous. You steal the breath from my lungs just by looking at me. You’re the muse to every piece of art I create.
There’s art in the way we make love. It’s in the way her body, soft and pliable, feels in the roughness of my hands. It’s in the erratic breaths she tries to suck in. It’s in the way her eyes meet mine and this inexplicable sense of understanding and … rightness crushes into me. Hell, it’s even in the beautiful chaos of haphazardly strewn clothes.
Her moans are the poetry and her body sets the rhythm. Our hands are the paintbrushes, creating a masterpiece in every stroke. And just her body is a work of art in itself. The color of her skin. The way her hair fans across the sheets. Her hard nipples, wet from the teasing of my tongue. The slope and curve of her ribs and stomach, leading to the most incredible legs I’ve ever had the pleasure of worshipping between.
I could take pictures of her laid out beneath me for hours and still not have time to completely capture her beauty.
She trembles after one, then two, climaxes and I still don’t feel like I’ve shown her even a fraction of how much I love her.
“You are so gorgeous,” I whisper gruffly against her skin, making my back up to her lips, the taste of her excitement and orgasms dancing on my tongue. “Loving you—” I slide my lips beneath her ear “—is something I never felt I deserved.” My skin heats as she whimpers and slides her hands across my chest. “Loving you—” I push damp strands of her hair out of her face and search her glistening eyes “—is something I will never regret.” My fingers whisper against her neck. “Loving you—” I move my mouth a breath’s distance from hers. “—is the only thing worth living for.”
A look of heartbreak reaches her eyes and she mouths my name, a tinny cry replacing it as soon as I kiss her. I thrust my tongue into her mouth and devour her, consume her, make her forget everything. Everyone.
And as I push inside her body, everything and everyone slips from my mind too. I focus on the woman I carelessly and willingly gave my heart to, her body glistening with sweat, her hot, wet pussy clamping around my erection, and that moment—the one where I’m flush against her naked skin, chest to chest, hand in hand, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, mouth to desperately greedy mouth. She takes every breath I exhale, and I steal it back with every thrust of my hips.
The moment becomes intense. The feeling is incredible, but the emotion involved with every gyration against her hot body controls me, and I find myself needing that reassurance. That we’re okay. That we’ll make it through this—whatever this is.
A tear slips out of Josie’s eyes, like she can see exactly what I’m thinking, and she turns her face to the side. Unlinking our hands, I guide mine to her hair, tugging on it to get her to turn my way. I let go when she winces and rest it against her cheek.
“Say it,” I beg her, my voice raspy.
She keeps her head turned despite me trying to encourage her to look at me. So I lean over and make her. “Say it, Josie,” I say with more force. “Look at me and say it. I need to hear it.” Desperation. That’s the new feeling prickling my skin. I’m desperate for her to tell me—to look me in the eyes and mean it. To know she won’t leave me.
“I love you,” she says, choking on a sob. She opens her eyes then and I kiss her harder than I’ve ever kissed her before, shamelessly showing her my desperation.
“Say it again.”
Her thumbs stroke my jaw. “I’ll love you forever,” she promises.
My eyes shut, and I let the promise sink over me, seep into my blood, and make my heart beat harder. I’m not sure why my chest hurts, why it feels like this moment is so important. Or maybe it’s not that it’s important. Maybe it’s because it feels like it may be the last time I get to hold her. To love her. To hear those heart-stopping words come out of her mouth.
The ache continues even as I thrust into her harder. It’s still there when I feel goose bumps rush along Josie’s thighs. Still there when I cling onto her and make her look at me as I tell her to come for me. Still hurts as I feel her muscles clench around my cock and she screams my name.
And it’s still there as I fill her and let out my own roar of release.
Still there. Still aching in my chest. Even as I hold her in my arms and whisper I love you over and over again against her skin.
Chapter 21
Josie
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Seth asks into the dark room after multiple sacred prayers of I love you against my body. He swipes at the tears rolling out of my eyes. “Tell me why you’re crying, Jos.” I hear his hard swallow, as if my emotional state is hurting him.
I don’t even know how to answer. I came home knowing I needed to let him go. That his life is more important than my broken heart. But after what we just experienced, after he made love to me like he was terrified it may be the last moment we’d ever have together, I started talking myself out it. I don’t want to let him go. Just the thought makes it hard to breathe.
We’ve been through too much for me to just walk away. The chances that Michael will really hurt him are probably slim—or, at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
If I tell Seth, I risk him going to prison for premeditated murder. If I stay with him but don’t tell him about the threats, Seth’s life is in grave danger. If I leave and never tell him, there won’t be a reason for Michael to come after him.
Why does leaving feel like the only option?
“Seth, there’s a lot I need to say,” I start, bu
rrowing into his chest. Hell, after this, it may be the last time I get to do it. I might as well savor it now.
His body tenses, and I’m burning with curiosity wondering where his thoughts are taking him. My phone rings in the pocket of my discarded yoga pants somewhere next to the bed. I ignore it and kiss Seth’s chest. The ringing stops.
“Today, when I went out, something happened. And I don’t want you to fre—” The phone rings again as I’m trying to talk. I let out a huff and try again when it goes silent. “I don’t want you to freak out. We need—” The phone rings a third time and I’m so frustrated I lean on my elbows and glare in the direction of the phone.
“Just answer it, Jos. It must be important.”
I throw off the sheets and grab the phone. It’s Brooke. “Hello?” I crawl back into bed and let Seth hold me again.
“Josie! Oh, god. I don’t even know what to say. Brandon’s freaking out. They’re all rushing to the hospital right now. I don’t know if I should bring Alec there. I don’t know what to do. They’re saying you need to be there. They said to keep calling ‘til I got a hold of you.”
I sit up straighter. “Hey. Brooke. Calm down. What are you talking about? Who’s going to the hospital? Who’s in the hospital? What happened?”
Seth gets out of bed and starts pulling clothes on and grabbing some for me.
“Blake! Blake’s in the hospital. They’re saying he was asking for you in the ambulance. Brody and Brandon are on their way over. Josie, I don’t know what to do. They said it was pretty bad.”
“Blake?” I whisper, opening my mouth in shock. “What do you mean it’s bad? I just saw him earlier. He was okay then!” When was that? Like three hours ago?
“I really don’t know the details. They just said you had to be there. Please. I know it’s awkward but if—” she chokes on her words, crying for her brother-in-law. “If he dies—” She sobs again, unable to finish her thought.
“It’s okay, Brooke. I’ll be there. Which hospital?”
She gives me the information as I get dressed, and I tell her everything will be okay before I hang up. I don’t look at Seth. He’s got to be confused, and fuck, probably hurt. But he doesn’t say anything; he just gets our shit together and heads to the truck.
The silence threatens to choke me. Seth’s grip on the steering wheel turns his knuckles white, and I can’t seem to come up with anything to say. To explain why I was with Blake earlier today. Fuck! Not just earlier today, as if it was any random day. No … I went after I had a huge argument with Seth. I’m as disgusted with myself as Seth rightfully is.
But even as I try to come up with something to say, I keep getting swept up in images of Blake from today. The small grin he tried to hide in his office. The slight embarrassment over the key in that tin. The way he saved me from his own father. The house. The remnants of a proposal, and the hurt from knowing he needed to let go of us.
The tears start and they don’t stop. If he dies … Fuck. If he dies, I think a piece of my heart would break. I may not be in love with him anymore, but love is still there. There’s still a part of me that cares so much for the man I used to be in love with.
The silence ensues as we pull up to the hospital. Past the entrance. And even as we make it to the waiting room. Seth keeps reaching out to hold me, but he keeps pulling back—like he’s unsure. The waiting room isn’t very large, and I only see one other person sitting in a puke-orange chair.
“We can wait ‘til someone comes out,” I say quietly to Seth. He nods solemnly and moves to sit down. I sit down next to him and take his hand in mine. His eyes close instantly and he inhale a shaky breath.
“Seth,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
That seems to be all I can say aloud. Everything else is screaming inside my head. I’m sorry I left the house. I’m sorry I went to see Blake. I’m sorry I was stupid and was cornered by my rapist. And I’m so, so, so freaking sorry I pulled you into this mess—that if I don’t call off the wedding, then you’ll be ripped away from me way too soon.
“Please,” Seth says so quietly I barely hear him. He leans his forehead against mine. “Please don’t push me away.”
My eyes widen briefly, then I turn away from his sad eyes. How is he so in tune with what I’m thinking? Feeling?
“Bree?” a deep voice questions at the entrance of the waiting room.
I look up and see Brody clutching tightly to a Styrofoam coffee cup in his hand, the other balled into a fist at his side. His dark hair looks like it was thrown chaotically into a ponytail and his grey suit looks like he gave up trying to keep everything straight. His jacket is unbuttoned, shirt untucked, tie loose, and the top three buttons of his dress shirt are undone.
But it’s the look on his face that surprises me the most. I’ve only ever known Brody to be easy-going and charming—like Seth, but without all the depressive mood swings. But now … Now, Brody looks terrified and shocked and relieved and sad all at the same time.
I swing my head to the person he called to, and notice the same expression in her face. The ebony hair that falls to her waist in thick waves is such a stark contrast with her pale white complexion, and the combination is beautiful. Round, icy-blue eyes are surrounded by thick black lashes, eyes that most girls would envy—including me.
She stands and looks over Brody like she hasn’t seen him in ages. Which, who knows, she might not have. She’s pretty tall, but hell, everyone’s tall to me, and she wears jeans and a loose fitted t-shirt that seem to hide a beautiful figure. She’s gorgeous—in a porcelain doll kind of way.
“Brody,” she says, her voice quiet and shy. Her eyes lower and she wipes her hands on her jeans.
Brody takes a tentative step toward her, then two more, then another, until he’s right in front of her. I see his fist flexing before he seems to let go of whatever is bugging him and wraps her in an embrace. Their sighs are audible and tension seems to leave both their bodies.
“God, Breanna,” Brody says softly against her temple. “It’s so freaking good to see you.”
“Oh, wow,” I whisper low enough that they don’t hear me. That’s an interesting change of events, for sure.
“Who is that?” Seth asks softly, neither of us able to take our gaze away from the two of them.
“That’s Breanna.” I turn to look at Seth. “Their sister.”
He quirks his eyebrow in a disbelieving way as if saying you’re shitting me, right? I smile at that and turn back to the embracing couple … siblings?
I lean back in to talk to Seth. “Like their half-sister. Or step-sister. I can’t remember which. But definitely their sister in some form.”
“Interesting,” Seth says, leaning back and grinning.
“When did you get here?” Brody asks, pulling away and leading her to a two seated couch. Their voices are hushed, but we can still hear them. His eyes do a quick scan of her body, maybe pausing a little longer on the ample breasts she seems to be trying to hide, and then meets her eyes. Suddenly, he grips onto her wrist, eyes widening. “Bree, where are you staying?”
She doesn’t meet his eyes and lets a section of her hair fall in front of her face. “I ran out of excuses, B. I just got in today. Then Brandon texted me saying Blake was in the hospital. So I came over here instead of going home.”
“Brandon will let you stay with him. That’s where I am right now, too.” He pushes her hair out of her face and she looks up at him with wide, surprised eyes. “You can’t go back there,” he whispers.
She nods and lowers her eyes again. And for someone who is coming across as shy and timid, the acidity in her next words surprise me. “I know, Brody. I’ve been taking care of myself ever since you ran away as soon as you could.”
“Hey,” he says quietly, brows furrowed. He tips her chin to look at him. “You know why I—”
“Yes,” she says looking into her lap. She laces her fingers together and stares at them on top of her thighs. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry. Never say sorry,” Brody says quietly, leaning back in his chair.
“Damn,” Seth whispers. It draws my attention away from the two people across the room, and I look at him. “Did you know about that?”
“About what?” I whisper back.
“That he’s in love with his sister?”
Love? Is that what I’m witnessing? I look at them again, both silent but stealing quick glances at each other before the other catches it.
“You think?” I ask, returning my attention back to Seth. As terrible as this bit of gossip is, I’m grateful for the reprieve from my depressing thoughts.
He holds my gaze for a long moment. “I’ve been in love with you for so many years, I’d know that look anywhere.” My heart flutters despite the pain of knowing he won’t love me for much longer. Seth nods his head in Brody’s direction. “He’s in love with her. I promise.”
Brody had mentioned there was someone he had accepted could never be an option. Sister seems pretty freaking forbidden. The pressure in my chest deepens as I think of the lost look in his eyes, the one of longing and understanding. If anything, he cares deeply for his sister.
“Josie,” Seth says quietly after a few minutes of silence. I close my eyes, knowing this is only going to make the heartache worse. “Whatever happens in there ... Whatever he needs to say to you. Just please don’t forget that I love you. I love you so much it makes my fucking chest hurt.”
I look at him then, tears in my eyes. He continues before I can say anything back—as if I could utter a word. “I will love you through whatever problems we face, Josie. Don’t forget that when you go in there.” He places his hand on my cheek, imploring me with his eyes. “Say you know I love you.”