Sanctuary (the Affliction Trilogy #2)

Chapter 16

Sixteen

I wake up to the soft sound of snoring and the slow rise and fall of a chest. I've draped my leg over another's and am warm from the skin-to-skin contact. I open my eyes to find a tattooed chest in my line of sight. Ryland stayed.

I smile and lazily trace the dark outlines of the swirls that connect the art on his arms.

“That tickles,” he groggily says; his eyes still closed.

I love his voice first thing in the morning. Its deep, slow sound vibrates his chest, making my skin raise with goosebumps. The tone warms me all over, and I wish it were possible to wrap myself in it and let it lull away all my worries. I want to get lost in the sexy feeling it ignites in me.

“I can trace other ones if you like,” I say, my fingers walking down his chest and over the hourglass tattoo in the center. “Or maybe these?”

My hand disappears under the blankets and slides over the area above his pelvic bones where the two roses are inked on each side. When I reach the center below his navel, the texture changes from smooth skin to a downy trail of hair. I linger there for a moment, following its path until I'm blocked by the waistband of his pants.

“Or if you prefer, I can use my mouth,” I say, pressing my mouth to his collarbone.

A low moan escapes him, and his fingers tangle in my hair. My lips travel over the ornate swirls hovering above the hourglass before skimming down to the trickle of sand that settles at the bottom of the timepiece. I take my time licking and kissing until a dark red rose beckons me to the highest tip of one of its delicate petals.

With his chin pressed to his chest, Ryland opens one eye and looks down at me. “What are you doing?”

I meet his gaze and place another kiss further down his body. “Something I've thought about doing for a long time.”

With an approving moan, his head falls back to the pillow. He pulls his lips between his teeth, like he’s savoring the feel of my tongue moving further south. I follow every swooping line of the flowers, leaving behind a wet trail. The salty taste of his skin drives me wild, heightening my need.

My fingers dip into the waistband of his pants, brushing against the soft skin of his hard cock. I want to taste him, suck him deep into my mouth. The way his eyes roll into the back of his head, and his fingers grip my hair as he sets the pace. It’s intoxicating to have him taking his pleasure from me.

I move to slide my hand down further, but he pulls me up his body, rolling me under him. He pulls the white sheet over our heads, trapping us in our own little world. It softens the glow of the artificial sunlight in the room, making his skin look golden. His short hair stands in unruly waves and his bright green eyes peer at me, moving from my face to my matching peach lace bra and panties.

“Fuck. Open your legs for me love,” he says in awe.

I part my thighs, and he slides his hand between us, pulling the lace between my legs to the side. My breath hitches as he sweeps his finger through my wet pussy. He brings his wet fingers between us and glides them across my lips. His free hand rakes through my hair and gathers it in his fist. Tilting my head back, he whispers, “This is how it should be every morning. You beneath me and the taste of you on my tongue.”

He licks my mouth, and when my lips part, we fall into a deep kiss. The warm feeling of his tongue brushing against mine has my entire body aching for him. I run my fingers over his back and feel the scars from the lashings he received protecting his friends in Morhaven. I pull him closer, arching off the mattress and seeking friction from his cock.

My breathing quickens as he buries his face in my neck. The light dusting of his facial hair scrapes over the sensitive skin along my collarbone, followed by the contrasting sensation of soft, wet kisses.

He's right—every morning should be like this.

Cupping the underside of my breast, his mouth moves over the lace covering it. I tremble with every lick and tug through the material. He pulls away from one nipple to lavish the other with the same attention. Cool air hits my wet skin, and the peaks tighten and throb. I grind against him searching for anything to subside the growing ache between my legs.

His hands slide over my arms to the bra straps, pulling them down. He kisses the swell of my breasts, and I close my eyes, anticipating what's to come. I want nothing between us, skin on skin.

A loud knocking at the door breaks into our moment.

Ryland lifts his head and turns it to the side.

“Don't stop. Just ignore it,” I beg, rolling my hips under his.

He shakes his head and lowers his lips to my nipple, only to come to an abrupt halt as the relentless knocking comes again. “What if it’s River?” he says in between panting breaths.

I pull on the back of his neck, bringing him back to me. “Why would she knock on the front door? They don't lock. It's not her.”

The sound escalates to loud, demanding thumps.

“You didn't go to work. Maybe they're coming to check on you,” he says.

“Ryland, I'm sure William can figure out why I'm not there.”

The pounding is a continuous beat now, and I'm losing my mind. I push Ryland to the side with a growl and crawl out of bed.

“I'm not done with you,” I promise, marching to my dresser and pulling out a shirt and shorts.

He leans back into the pile of white bedding with his arm behind his head and smiles a crooked grin. “That's good to know.”

I roll my eyes and exit the room.

“I'm coming,” I yell, swinging the door open.

Ridge doesn't give me a chance to ask what he wants before saying, “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I was in my room.” I cock my head to the side and plant my hand on my hip.

“Can I come in and talk to you?” His tone is uncertain like he fears I'll turn him away.

And I should. After the secret he kept from me, I don’t know if anything between us is real. I thought I was making a friend; he was doing the dirty bidding of his father. If it weren’t for the absence of his normal bravado, I’d tell him to go. Instead, I take pity on him.

I step aside and sweep my arm in front of me. “If your obnoxious knocking is any indicator, you’re not leaving until I hear you out anyway.”

He enters the house, but I don’t lead him past the entryway. I need an escape route if this conversation takes a turn for the worse. Plus, whatever he needs to say, he has to do it quickly. I have a half-naked boyfriend in my bed waiting for me.

“Sorry for disturbing you. I wanted to check on you after last night.” He runs his hand over the back of his neck and scrunches his face before continuing, “It's not just you that I want to check on—it's us. I want to make sure things are okay between us, Quinn.”

I cross my arms over my chest and shift my weight from one foot to the other. “What do you want me to tell you? You knew for weeks and said nothing to me.”

“It wasn't my place to say anything. Dad didn't want it to go down like that. He wanted to give you a chance to get to know us and when the time was right, break it to you.”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “He may have fathered me, but William is not my dad. He's yours. Also, I'm not going to have a conversation with you about him. So, if you're here on his behalf, you can go.”

Ridge raises his voice, saying, “I'm not here for him. This is about you and me. I’ve already lost one sister, and I don't want to lose another.”

It was all so much to process last night. I hadn't even considered anything outside of William being my father. But this reaches beyond confirming my paternity. It has a direct effect on Ridge as well. We're half-siblings who never had the chance to know each other until now. The question is—do we want to forge that relationship?

“Quinn?” Ryland calls, walking into the living room and pulling his shirt over his head.

My face skews in disappointment at the sight of him in his uniform.

He grabs his jacket off the back of the couch and puts it on. Disappointment courses through me. He’s going to go, and there is so much left unsaid between us. I can’t go back to how it was before last night. I refuse.

Ryland walks up beside me and gives Ridge a warning glare before saying, “Major Spencer.”

“Shaw.”

Last night did little to nothing to change how the two feel about each other. There's no love lost between them. However, Ryland has toned down his animosity toward Ridge. No doubt it has to do with the removal of him as a threat to our relationship—a topic I still want to discuss with him. His jealousy or fear of losing me, or whatever it was, compelled him to put distance between us. Although he tried to tell me the decision was ultimately mine to make, he made the move on his own.

We can't truly move forward in any capacity until we've put that all to rest.

Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, Ryland pulls me to his side. “I've got to get going unless you need me to stay.”

I tilt my head and cock an eyebrow at him. I don't need him to stay; I want him to stay, but not because Ridge is here.

“Don't look at me like that.” He takes my face in his hands and gives me a kiss. “I'll see you at the park for dinner. We'll even meet an hour earlier than our usual time, if that’s okay with you.”

I nod and smile. “Okay. That sounds good.”

He places one last kiss on my forehead, and with a curt nod to Ridge, he walks out.

“I don't like him,” Ridge mutters, staring at the closed door.

“You don't have to like him. He's my boyfriend, not yours.”

“I thought you two were on a break.”

I rest my hand on my hip and glare at him. “I'm not talking to you about my relationship either.”

“How long can I expect you to be pissed at me?”

It's kind of a funny question—he wants to know how to navigate through our quarrel as siblings. If we'd been able to grow up together, he'd know what to do with me, as River does.

“I don't know. How long are you planning on being a pain in my ass?” I say, not bothering to hold back on the sass.

His lips turn into a smile. “From what I understand, brothers and sisters usually drive each other crazy until one of them dies.”

I pucker my lips and look at the ceiling. “That's a long time for me to put up with your shit.”

“Imagine how I feel.”

Since the moment I met Ridge, I've felt an inexplicable draw to him—conversation is easy, and I always have a sense of comfort when he's near. It's funny to think that what everyone thought was flirtation was really the unknown connection between a brother and sister. I knew there was something special between us even before it was told to me, but I assumed it was a kindred spirit.

“I'm guessing you feel a little inferior since I'm smarter and better looking than you,” I say with a laugh.

“Smarter maybe, but I definitely have you beat on the looks.”

I playfully shove his shoulder. “Whatever. Do you want some breakfast?”

All the humor drains from his face. His features soften, and his hazel eyes fill with pure contentment. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Ridge sits on a stool at the counter as I prepare breakfast. We take turns asking questions and digging deeper into one another's lives. I recount my days growing up in Devil’s Lake with River, and he tells me about the downfalls of being the child of a political figure. He's used to extravagant meals, and I miss my aunt's homemade comfort foods. My education was a product of the public schooling system, while he attended an acclaimed private school in his region. We may share half of the same DNA, but our lives have played out on opposite ends of the spectrum.

I dish out our food and take the seat next to him.

He laughs at the sad stack of pancakes I made him and says, “You know it's well past noon, right?”

“For some reason, I didn't sleep well last night and missed breakfast.” I tilt my head and pop a forkful of food in my mouth.

Ridge clears his throat and takes a sip of coffee before asking, “Are you going to go back to work for Dad?”

I stare at the cabinets across the kitchen, and I think about my answer. “I've never been one to run away from something because it gets hard. I'm not thrilled about seeing him every day, but I guess it's something I'll have to figure out with William.”

“You're going to give him a chance?”

I shake my head. “Nothing has changed between him and me. He's not magically my family now. In fact, he's far from it.”

The subject of William brings out hostility in me. He's a topic I prefer to leave unspoken for now. I am, however, settling into the thought of having a half-sibling, and I'm curious to learn Ridge's side of the story. “So, did you just learn about me when I got here, or did you know I existed before that?”

“I put things together over the years. As you witnessed, my mom isn't great at holding in her feelings on the matter. I'd hear them arguing, but I didn't have the complete story until recently.”

When it comes to his family, an aura of sadness surrounds him. Josh and Amara would have heated discussions, but they tried to keep it between them. Our guardians never made us a part of the negative issues within their marriage. I don’t think the same can be said for the house Ridge grew up in.

“I'm sorry, Ridge.” I mean it. I can relate to his family leaving him in the dark; my family did the same with the identity of my father. It was a gaping hole in my life that was hard to fill. It left my mind conjuring all sorts of scenarios when I was younger. I would picture my father returning with some grand story about why he left me. It wasn’t until I matured that I came to terms with the abandonment I felt. I let the hole in my heart be and allowed those who cared for me most to take up more room in my life.

He places his fork down, giving me his full attention. “You have nothing to apologize for, but I do. I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you when the time was right. The last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt, even though it was unavoidable.”

My chin quivers as I hold back my tears. All of this is such a mess, but it’s nice to know that he always took into consideration how this would affect me.

Ridge puts his hand on my shoulder, pulling me to him while giving me several pats on my back. It's an older brother gesture that makes me so emotional, a tear breaks free and streaks down my face.

How things will unfold between the two of us is up in the air. This is a new chapter we’re both writing, and the flow of it is still a bit wonky. We're trying to adjust, and there will be obstacles standing in our way—the biggest being William. Ridge cares about his father and is loyal to him. And I highly despise the man and have no plans for forgiving him anytime soon. For now, he'll remain a topic we'll have to agree to disagree on.