by Scott, S. L.
His hand flattens against my belly, keeping me down. “Nope. We’re not doing that. We’re not keeping tallies or tit for tats, though you have great tits. We’re just doing what feels good and what feels right.”
“You feel right.”
“Get ready then because I’m about to make you feel so right that it might be wrong.”
“Never.”
I hadn’t noticed the packet next to me until he swipes it and lies back, ripping the foil. Not two deep breaths pass before he’s settling between my legs, making himself at home while over me. Reaching up, I hold his face and then lift to kiss him.
He comes down with weight while pushing in slowly. I suck in a breath and dip my head back as I lower my hands to his shoulders and hold on to him. I want all of him all at once. The stretch, the burn, the sweat, and the fall after.
His lips are at my ear, kissing behind it, tugging my lobe between his teeth. His breath sends delectable shivers through me as he pushes all the way in.
My mouth cracks open, and he kisses under my chin. The sound of the sensations we’re creating is getting to him. His heavy breath takes over, and he’s thrusting, moving and pumping, until I say, “I want to see you.”
Opening his eyes, Bennett takes me in with wide pupils and a determined vein in his forehead.
We stare into each other’s eyes as our bodies push and pull, tug and take. Speed is not the goal as we get off-kilter. The rush goes to my head as I struggle to keep my eyes open. Without my permission, my body constricts, and I’m falling headfirst into the beautiful abyss. Bennett dives in behind me, and when our lips meet again, it’s with a promise of a kiss.
Bennett makes love a possibility again. He’s affirming, which is refreshing, even though he claims he’s selfish, but from sightseeing to sex, he puts me first every time. In the face of danger, he didn’t push me away to keep himself safe. He brought me into the family fold to protect me at the expense of his own safety.
It doesn’t matter what I throw at him; he’s strong and undaunted, and patient like no other man in my life has ever been. But the way he trusts me makes my heart flutter and my mind feel at ease. Something I never thought I’d experience.
As we lie here, words aren’t needed as an unspoken contract seals us together. In the golden light of the afternoon sunshine, I start to fall. Slowly at first, and then as if I’ve cannonballed into the bliss, I feel light and free to swim in this love because his heart is mine, and mine is his.
22
Winter
The hot seat is warmer than I thought. I tug at my collar and use my shirt to fan myself.
Bennett closes his laptop across the table from me, and says, “Don’t be nervous. We’re all on the same team.”
“You don’t know what I’ve done.”
“Did you hire those guys to kill me?” His whole demeanor is casual as he stares at me.
“No!” My voice pitches anyway. “I would never do that.”
“Exactly.” Sitting back, he adds, “That’s why you don’t have to worry. I know you have your reasons. We’re just going to ensure that everyone is safe moving forward and that the ones responsible pay for what they’ve done.”
“That might be me.” My stomach clenches as I speak the words I’ve been afraid to say in fear of losing him.
“What are you talking about?” More interest lies in his eyes, the lighter side of caramel turning to brown sugar.
The sound of the front door opening invades the apartment, and I startle when I hear, “About time you got your ass back into town.”
Bennett stands. Tapping the table, he says, “It’s going to be okay,” then walks around to greet his brother.
He thinks this will be easy, that I’m clear of responsibility, but I’ve just confirmed one thing—he wagered before he knew the bet, and now he’s the one I’ll hurt next.
I stand and when I see another giant fe-fi-fo-fumming into the space. I’m starting to see why they need such large apartments. While Ethan has lighter hair than Bennett, his oldest brother is a shade darker—hair, skin, eyes—and handsome like both of them. The Everest genes don’t mess around when it comes to good looks.
The woman with him is as beautiful as I would have suspected for not only a princess but someone married into this family. I whisper, “Do I curtsy?”
Bennett grins and then shrugs. “If you want, but you don’t have to.”
“Please don’t,” Ally says with a kindhearted smile, reflecting what Singer said about her. With something black in her hands, she comes to me and shakes my hand. “I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Ally. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. Bennett was telling me you’re a princess.”
“I am. I can’t take any credit since all I did was be born to earn the title.”
Bennett’s brother leans forward to shake my hand. “Wait until you hear about the foundation she set up. She’s incredible. I’m Hutton. It’s nice to meet you, Winter.”
“You too.”
I take it no one lounges around these parts, and there’s definitely no resting on your laurels in this family. The other thing very clear is how much the Everest men love and adore their wives. I’ve never witnessed such adoration. How they must thrive on such devotion.
“Now that everyone has met, how about we sit in the living room?” Bennett suggests.
The men move to the living room section of the open space while Ally holds her hands out. “I brought you a change of clothes. I’ve put in an order for a few more things that should arrive by early afternoon, but I thought a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt could help you get by until the other items arrive.”
Taking the stack of soft black cotton from her, I’m left speechless. As I stare at the clothes, I feel temperamental tears forming, so I wipe at my eyes, embarrassed. “Sorry. I’ve been an emotional mess lately for some reason,” I say, trying to justify my overwrought emotions.
“No need to apologize. You’ve been through a lot. I can only imagine how you’re handling it.” She touches my upper arms and brings me in for a hug. Even though I just met her, the embrace is heartfelt, and for some dumb reason, my tears multiply. “You’re a strong woman. This will pass, and you’ll be free from these worries.” Something in the soft lilt of her accent is so incredibly soothing. How long has it been since I’ve felt such warmth and comfort in the arms of a friend?
She leans back, her hands warm and comforting on my shoulders. “We’re all here for you, Winter. Just let us know how we can help, and we will.”
“I don’t understand. How can everyone be so nice? You don’t even know me.”
“But Bennett does,” she replies. “That makes you family.” I notice how her eyes dip from mine. “He should have an ice pack in his freezer. You’re not swollen, but it might help lessen the bruising. Come on, we’ll look together.”
Ethan and Bennett’s voices are low, their dulcet tones heard, but their words indiscernible. I watch their body language from the kitchen. I’ve brought stress and danger to his doorstep, to all of their lives.
“Surprisingly, he doesn’t have one. I can bring one down later, but for now, this bag of peas will have to do.” She opens a drawer and pulls out a tea towel. There’s such a comfort in the way she moves around like she’s here all the time and then wraps the peas inside. “Ten minutes on. No guarantees it will help since it’s already formed, but it’s worth a try.”
I hold the cold pack to my jaw. “Thank you. Everybody is so close . . .”
“We all hang out. Bennett’s single.” She catches herself, and says, “Well, was? I’m not sure what to say. I’m sorry. I don’t want to intrude. I know how delicate these things are.”
“It’s okay.” Knowing what I’m about to confess, I leave it ambiguous. “We’re figuring things out.”
Grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge, she hands me one. She’s sharp and reads right through me. “I set up his kitchen the same as mine.” With a laugh,
she adds, “Before I started the foundation, I had a little free time on my hands, and you know a bachelor isn’t going to get this stuff done.”
“The foundation sounds like a lot of work. Do you do it all?”
“It’s a lot of good work, good for the soul work. And no, I couldn’t possibly do it all. I have a dedicated team of five along with volunteers. Singer volunteers part time. She works in publishing the rest of the time. She loves to read.”
“I love to read too.” I think about my books in the Paris apartment and how much those little novels brought me joy. Buying them felt more rebellious than any designer dress I bought on Kurt’s dime and meant the world to me. “My mother really loved to read, and she passed her passion down to me. I started a collection in Paris.”
Mentioning my mom causes me to reach for my neck, sick to my stomach that I left before getting the necklace. She must sense my sadness. “I’m sorry you had to leave your books behind.”
“They aren’t valuable, but they were a nice place to escape.”
Rubbing my arm, she says, “I’m so glad you have that connection to your mother. That’s a treasure you can carry in your heart.”
“Are you close to your mother?”
“My mother was queen, so we didn’t get to do a lot together when I was growing up.”
She speaks of being royal as if she grew up in the suburbs and everyone relates. I love that she’s unpretentious.
“Let me ask you something. My clothes were washed and folded magically. Would you know anything about that?”
“Not magic. Great amenities. There’s a dry cleaner on the street level who did us a favor. There’s also a spa on the fifth floor. Singer and I are headed down later for facials. Would you like to join us?”
I glance at Bennett, unsure what to say. “He says it’s not safe for me to leave.”
“In the building should be fine. You’ll never be more secure than you are here. Even the windows are bulletproof.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
Bennett replies, “It means it will take more than a few rounds to break the glass.”
“So bulletproof really means it’s bullet resistant?”
“Basically, it will give you enough time to get out.”
Singer walks around the island toward the men. “Is it safe for Winter to go to the spa today?”
I don’t know why Bennett gets this look in his eyes like sugar just invaded his veins, but it’s adorably annoying. All three of them look back at me, then Hutton says, “That shouldn’t be an issue.” He glances at me. “Are you comfortable talking to us, or is there something we can do for you?”
They’re so careful, treating me with kid gloves.
I hate it.
It makes me feel weak.
I love it.
It makes me feel like they care.
Sitting in a chair, I sit straight and hold the arms. A smile forms on Bennett’s face, and he says, “I know you feel like this is an interrogation, but it’s really not.”
Hutton rests his forearms on his knees and clasps his hands together. “But we do need substantial detail to put security in place as well for us to decide what move to make.”
Ally comes to the far end of the couch from them and sits near me. Patting my arm, she says, “It will be okay. I promise.”
A knock on the door pulls their attention away, and I breathe again. Bennett goes to answer it. Singer comes around followed by the men we rode from the airport with yesterday. With a bag in her hand, Singer says, “The stuff we ordered—clothes, flip-flops, sneakers, some makeup, and toiletries—arrived.”
Ally stands and peeks inside. “Great.” Then she sits back down. “We can get you anything else you need.”
“Thank you. I hate burdening you.”
“No burden at all,” Singer replies.
Lars and Aaron are reintroduced, the lead security team members. Aaron says, “I’ll be taking notes for Mr. Everest and for our team, Ms. Nobleman.”
He’s not asking, but I say, “Fine,” anyway.
Bennett’s brother says, “Are we ready to get started?”
“I’m ready. Might as well get it over with.” I’m not ready at all, but here we go.
Singer goes into the kitchen. I hear the faucet and then see her lean against the island, sipping water.
“Who were those guys in Paris working for?” Hutton asks.
My eyes leave the safety of Singer’s and come back to the group in front of me, and then I pick at the cuticle of my ring finger. Once I say it out loud, there’s no taking it back. It will be out there . . . my life more at risk than it ever was before. But if it will keep them safe, I’m willing to make the sacrifice.
I suck in a hard breath and slowly exhale his name with it. “They worked for Kurt.” I don’t have to see them to feel the weight of their intense stares. “Kurt McCoy.”
Silence carries through the air, and I look up, their gazes distancing as they process the name I’ve injected into their universe. They turn to each other, leaving me out of the private conversation held by their eyes.
A glass shatters, startling me. Looking toward the kitchen, Singer stands, her mouth open, a million emotions flickering through her eyes and contorting her face into horror.
Seeming to catch herself, she bends down. “I’m sorry, Bennett.” She grabs at the broken glass and then jerks back, losing her balance. Everyone jumps to their feet and rushes to her. Blood drips down the side of her hand. “Damn it.”
Ally and Bennett are helping her to her feet while I stand off to the side. They help her to the sink where she places her hand under running water. While I stand there, not wanting to intrude, Singer asks Bennett, “Do you have a bandage I can use until I get a better look at it?”
Bennett rushes past me and then returns with a first-aid kit that he spreads open on the counter. While he tends to her, she steals a look at me, a tear weaving down her cheek and dropping to her chest.
I move in slowly. “Are you okay?”
She shakes her head and then looks at Aaron. “I need Ethan.” From her reaction, something tells me this is about more than a cut on her hand.
He replies, “I texted him.”
“Thank you.” Her voice is frail, unlike the vibrant woman I met earlier. “I’ll meet him upstairs.” She looks at Bennett when he stands back to his full height after bandaging her. “I’m sorry about the glass. I’ll clean—”
“No,” I say, moving in closer. “I’ll clean it.”
Hutton directs us away from the area while Ally walks by me, and says, “Don’t worry. I’ll clean it.”
Singer says, “I’m sorry,” again to Bennett as he walks with her toward the hall leading to the door.
His voice is low, his concern etched into his forehead. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” she whispers. “I need to see him first, and then I’ll send him down.”
“I understand. Aaron, go with her.”
Ally stands near Hutton with a roll of paper towels. “I’ll be up in a minute, Sing.”
Clearly shaken, she nods her reply.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, hoping she feels better. I don’t know why, but my gut tells me something is seriously wrong.
23
Winter
It’s been an hour since Singer left, wounded by my admission. When Ethan showed up, I left the brothers by themselves. What did that interrogation last? One question. One confession. One minute before everything changed, shifting the warm welcome.
It’s been quiet for a while. I’m not sure if contemplation is happening or everyone has left, but I stay in Bennett’s room. I’m glad I kept on his clothes. There’s more room to make mistakes and grow from them inside.
I push through the urge to run and avoid conflict or remain waiting in the master bedroom, especially since I’m not sure what I’m waiting for. I head toward the living room, not sure how many Everests I’ll find.
Bennett stand
s from where he was sitting on the couch and drags his palms down the front of his jeans as his favorite song plays. “Hi,” he says, his hand going up.
“Hi. How’s Singer?”
“She’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” His eyes begin to narrow like he’s struggling to read me. I relate.
“For causing her pain.”
“You didn’t, Winter.”
I tap the tip of my shoe on the wood and clutch my hands in front of me. “I did.” I look away. “I don’t know how or why, but I’ve been feeling guilty this whole time, Bennett. This is her home. Would it be better for her, for all of you, if I leave?”
“No.” His voice is quieter, not commanding the same attention as his frame. “Talk to me. Fill in the missing pieces. I sent them home so it could just be us. Us talking. You and me. Me and you. Please, Winter, explain how you’re caught up in this mess that could cost me my life, my brothers’ lives. Singer’s and Ally’s.”
My chin can’t hold its strength against this man. It hits my chest, and I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your apology, damn it. I want answers.”
Stubbornness braces my spine, and I look up at him, ready to tear into anyone who attempts to attack me. But I can’t. Not him. “It’s a domino effect, and I’m the one who knocked the first one down. If I had never gone to work for the McCoys, I would have never met Kurt. My role in this mess is the reason you were almost taken or killed.”
“You saved me, Winter. What about that? You risked your life to help me. That doesn’t matter to you?”
“It does because you matter to me.” My lashes are wet from tears and I hate that I can’t have this conversation without crying. Frustration, anger at myself, and the pain I’ve caused him and his family fill my lids until the tears topple over. I’ve carried this burden on my own for so long that to finally share it is so horribly painful. But the shame that comes with my admission is almost crippling.
