CHAPTER 46DENISE
CHAPTER 46
DENISE
Hugh was silent as he navigated his car through the streets. The rain wasn’t letting up and he drove more carefully than he normally did. I absently wondered if that was because of what we’d just done or the weather. We’d been silent on the ride back to Grams’s and as we got back into his car. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but I needed him to talk to me, to prove to me that he wasn’t lost in the darkness that I’d made him embrace.
I wanted to grab his hand, but I wasn’t sure he’d want that. I’d made a mistake. If I’d kept this to myself, I could’ve figured out a way to handle it on my own. I could’ve canceled my appearance and let it all go. Maybe he’d have left me alone if I’d quit Foxx and released a statement. Cleo was drawn right back into her PTSD and Hugh… he’d opened himself up to something he never wanted to see again.
“What happened?” I whispered, running my hands down my wet skirt.
“He apologized.” His tone was empty. “It was genuine. It’s over.”
My eyes started to water as I looked out at the street. What did I just do to him?
“I’m sorry,” the words were a whisper, but he heard them.
The car jerked to the right as he parked and got out of the car. Before I could process it, he had my door open and was pulling me out into the rain.
“Where are we—”
He dragged me forward until we were in an alley behind the laundromat, out of sight of the street. Before I could say a word, he slammed my back against the wall and crushed my lips with his.
My startled squeak was enough to grant him access to plunge his tongue into my mouth as his hand grabbed my waist and pulled me against him. I could feel his hard length between us, and I moaned in surprise.
The cold rain was moving from a drizzle to a downpour, but my skin was scalding. I felt like I could catch fire right then and there, and we would burn up together.
“I need you.” The words were a harsh whisper against my lips. It was a tone he’d never used before, rough and raw and vulnerable. He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes were off to the side, and I could tell he was at war, lost within himself.
“Okay,” I replied, trying to keep the concern out of my raspy voice.
His grip tightened on my waist so tight it stole my breath. I wasn’t sure which version of him was holding me, Hugh or Switch. But when my hand found his chest and touched the wet fabric, I could feel his heart beating like I had hundreds of times before and I knew it didn’t matter. They were two sides of the same coin. Both of them were protecting me. And as much as I hesitated to give away my control—I was safe with him.
His hands pulled up at my skirt until he felt the edge of my tights and pulled them down to my knees. I felt my insides clench, and I moaned as his hands skimmed across my thighs, digging in as he pulled me up and wedged me between the wall and him.
When one of his hands moved away from my thigh and hovered over the heat between my legs, that’s when he met my eyes for the first time.
I could see the torment in them, but I could also see Hugh clawing and fighting to reign in the Switch’s inky rage. The energy emanating from him was aggressive, but my brain repeated the same refrain, reminding me that I was safe with him . My hand went to the edge of his face, following the line of his eyebrow down to his cheekbone.
“Baby,” I whispered.
He didn’t reply as his hand went to his belt and whipped it free of his slacks. Lips found mine and I felt shuffling as the belt clinked near my ear. He wrapped it around my neck before wrapping it once over and grabbing beneath the leather, testing the tightness in his grip.
He met my eyes, and before he could say anything, I spoke.
“I trust you.”
I sighed against the assault on my senses. The lust coursing through my veins. The pelting of rain against my exposed skin. The smell of wet asphalt floating up from the ground. Cold and wet brick against my back. And then he was pulling me forward using his fingers as a barrier between my skin and the leather.
His lips met mine again, just as rough, but this time unhurried as he pushed me against the concrete. He lifted my leg and swiftly sheathed himself in one stroke, pulling a startled groan from my lips. The edge of my sneaker dug into his back as he reared back and hit me with another aggressive stroke.
There was nothing sweet about this. My fingers clawed his back and the air filled with the slaps of our skin meeting and our guttural moans.
He paused, his hazy eyes seemed lighter, his gaze aware and soft. The hand under the belt pulled me forward. I thought he was going for a kiss, but he spoke against my lips.
“I love you.” The words fell from his lips with such surety that my entire body jolted.
Without hesitation, I replied, “I love you, too.”
With four more swift, deft strokes, he came. We stood there for a moment, catching our breath and letting the weight of what had happened settle between us.
He undid his belt from my neck as I buttoned him back into his pants with numb fingers.
“You reached me.” I didn’t reply, I looked up at him and tried to make sense of what he meant. “I was lost in it. The knife sliding, the feel of his skin giving way… but you brought me back.” His attention was focused on smoothing down my wet skirt.
His hand went back to my cheek and this time the kiss was unhurried and tender. When he pulled back, his tone was matter-of-fact.
“If I see him again, I’ll drive a knife into that nigga’s heart.”
He was all Hugh. And I understood. In that moment it all made sense. We’d found each other through all of this, and we’d loved each other forever, we just didn’t realize how much.
I was his anchor as much as he was mine. We were keeping each other from floating away.
Grabbing his hand, I held it between us.
“Okay.”