Chapter 33 #2
“Say it,” she rasps. “You say you want more, but I’m still so damn confused.
So, say it. Tell me the reason, Storm, because even though I moved on, my heart is stuck in your apartment eight years ago.
And now you’re here, reminding me of that agony every single time I see your face.
So free me from this hell you’ve created for me.
If you ever loved me, you’d give me that. ”
Her words are open and honest, and she’s right on every front. I’ll tell her the truth, not just so she can move forward, but so we can move forward.
Hopefully, prayerfully, together.
“My uncle killed my parents. He did it right here in the driveway. I was there that morning, but I wasn’t supposed to be. I saw Mom and Dad, and…” I clear my throat and blink, looking away from her intense expression.
Lay it all out there.
“The last thing my dad said to me before he got in that car was, ‘Protect her and protect yourself.’ He was talking about you. I’d spoken to both of them about you, especially my mama. She was really excited to meet you.”
I turn toward her again, and her expression is unchanged.
“But my dad’s last words…he knew his days were numbered. He couldn’t have known there was a bomb in the car, but he was running from…everything. He told me he was giving me room to ‘survive this.’ This, meaning the fucked up shit he and my uncle were involved in.”
Trying to calm the fuck down, I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. It doesn’t work.
“Hey.” Shae’s soft hand lands on top of mine. “You don’t have to tell me all of it.”
But I do. I really, really do.
Shaking my head, I sit up straight when I say, “My father got tied up with some fucked people. Like, some of the worst humans on the planet, Shae. Axel, Riale, and I were trying to figure out a way to get him free from it, but… My dad was a human trafficker. He was involved in financing it, growing wealth for him and his friends on the backs of whatever unfortunate soul got caught by their handlers.”
Shae’s hand stays on mine, but I don’t miss how her fingers flex when I tell the story.
The truth.
“My dad was too far gone, and he knew it, so his hope was for me to be free and safe from this world. That’s why?—”
“That’s why he didn’t name you as successor for Stratos,” she fills in. There’s so much sadness and compassion in her gaze, I find it hard to breathe.
“He told me to take care of you, to protect you, and I thought I knew how to do that. I was so sure I was invincible. I was cocky and entitled and spoiled. But then their car blew up, and I heard the screams and saw their blood and my mother’s shirt flapping in the wind, and I knew I couldn’t protect you.
I was a weak, egotistical man, and I knew if you stayed with me, you would have died, too, and that thought—I couldn’t endure even the thought of you suffering, dying like?—”
I choke on the words.
She swivels my chair to the side, scraping the tile as she pulls the other seat nearly flush to mine. Then, Shae’s arms circle my body, my face pressing into her chest. Her heartbeat is steady and hard against my cheek.
The burning in my throat gets hotter, sharper, and I realize I’m doing what I never do: I’m crying.
Gritting my teeth, I try to pull back and keep my face averted. I don’t want her to see my weakness.
But she doesn’t let me go. She just…holds on tighter.
“It’s okay, Storm,” she whispers, and the feeling of her soft lips against my temple is nearly my undoing.
“I knew the safest option for you was to get as far away from me as possible, Shae,” I rasp when she finally lets me go. I run a rough palm over my eyes, knowing that she’ll still see this bared, vulnerable side of me.
“I needed you to hate me as much as I loved you, because when I saw my uncle standing across the street, watching my parents burn, I knew he’d take everything I loved.
Including you,” I finally say, my sore eyes searching her face.
“ Especially you. That’s why I was so cold.
That’s why I broke things off like I did.
But I could never have expected that you were carrying my babies, Shae.
If I’d known…shit, I don’t know what I would have done, but things would have been different. I know that.”
Shae cries now, and I hate the sight of her tears. Always have and always will. So, I put my hands on her cheeks, my thumbs wiping away the moisture.
I keep my hands there, and she lets me, and I take that as the best sign I could have ever asked for.
“I’m sorry, Shae. I’m so sorry, and I’ll be sorry until they put me in the ground.
I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I missed out.
I’m sorry for every scrap of stress I caused you.
I’m sorry. And while I pray for your forgiveness one day, I won’t ask for it, because I know forcing you to do anything only hurts both of us, and I’ve made you suffer enough. ”
Shae nods, her hands going to my wrists near her face, but not pulling them away. I hold my breath while waiting for her reaction.
“So, you broke up with me because you wanted to protect me?” she finally asks. Her fingers tremble where they hold my wrists.
Like she wants to believe me. Like she’s afraid to.
I nod in response to her question.
“Yes. At least, that’s what I thought I was doing.
But what did I want? I wanted you, Shae.
I wanted every part of you. I wanted to worm my way into your soul and stay there.
I wanted to grow old with you, marry you, bring life into this world with you.
I wanted everything , Shae, and you were my everything. ”
“And now?” she whispers, her lips barely moving.
“And now? Not a goddamn thing has changed, Sweetness.”
I don’t know who moves first—if I take her lips with mine or if she launches herself over the short space separating our bodies. All I know is one moment, I’m staring at her face, and the next, we’re devouring each other as if doing so were elemental to life.
Shae moans, rising to her knees and straddling my lap in a movement that brings her heat right on top of my hard dick.
I grind her against me, breathing her in, sucking at her tongue and lips that taste of sweet cream, and I want more.
I want everything.
“Storm,” she says on a breath when I move my attention to her neck, nipping at the cord there before sucking on the flesh of her shoulder that’s exposed by the old shirt.
Back and forth she rocks her bottom half, and I’m seconds away from nutting in my jeans when she starts to pull her shirt over her head.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing her hands. She looks at me with confusion and then embarrassment.
“Wait, no, there are cameras in here, baby,” I say, my lips close to hers. “I won’t have any other man see the gift of your body.” Ever , is what I want to add.
She lets out a brief shudder before whispering back, “My room or yours?”
I pick her up, and her legs go around my waist as I make the trek toward my bedroom.
When we arrive, the only light comes from the lamp on the side table next to the bed, but it seems perfect, matching the soft, warm mood between us.
Dropping Shae into the middle of the mattress, I take a step back and drink in the image. She rubs her long, toned legs together as I stand over her trembling body.
“Don’t stop kissing me, Storm,” she says, then she tacks on the next part, almost reluctantly. “Please.”
I strip off my shirt and undress down to my boxers, but when Shae starts to remove her shirt again, I put my hands on her wrists.
“Let me,” I whisper, pressing my face into her neck. I feel her reply when her chin rubs against the side of my face.
Inch by inch, I move the shirt up her body, pulling back so that I track every stretch of flesh that’s revealed like the present it is.
She helps me whip the top over her head, and my mouth waters as I look at the most perfect pair of tits I’ve ever seen. They’re fuller now, as I noticed before, and her areolas are wider.
“Did you nurse our babies, Shae?” I ask, my fingers cupping the underside of her breasts, pulling to the tip. She shudders, her pelvis flexing, and she nods while biting her bottom lip.
“For how long?” I ask.
“Six months,” she blurts out on a pant. “I wanted to nurse them longer, but I had to work and prepare for school. I was pumping, too, but it got to be?—
My grunt cuts her off as my head hangs. She worked while recovering from birthing our children; she worked with two children at her breast…all while I sat on an inheritance and enough money to take care of her and our kids without a second thought.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, placing delicate kisses on the tips of her nipples. “I’m so sorry, Shae.” I draw her nipple then most of the areola into my mouth, sucking hard. Her hands go to my head, and I flick my gaze up to see her throw her head back with a moan.
“I’m sorry, Sweetness,” I murmur when I press kisses to the space between her breasts, making my way to the other one.
“Storm,” she says on a choked sigh, her hands moving from my head to my neck and down my shoulder blades.
“I’m so?—”
I kiss a line down to her belly button, and she sucks in a breathy chuckle when I stick my tongue in there.
“—so, so sorry I wasn’t there, baby.” I faceplant into her soft stomach, even softer now after having grown life in there.
Blindly, I pull down her shorts, discovering she’s not wearing any underwear. Her neatly trimmed patch points toward the treasure hidden between her lower lips, but I don’t go there. Instead, I trace a finger along the raised scar over her womb.
“A c-section,” I say, remembering that I read this fact weeks ago when investigating the twins’ birth. It’s different seeing the evidence in front of me. I run my finger along the raised line, and Shae tenses with a small giggle.
I look at her.
“Ticklish?”
“It doesn’t exactly tickle,” she says. “I only have feeling back in some spots along the scar, so it feels odd. It’s normal, from what I understand from my doctor.”