Chapter 17 #2
Then my eyes flicker and blink when I realize Magnus is in his arms, his legs wrapped around his waist, Caleb’s head thrown back in a laugh.
My heart twists in my chest, and I rub at the pain splintering across my sternum.
Magnus slides down Caleb’s body, the two of them smiling at each other, and I try to tell myself that he’s better off without me. That I should let him be happy without me.
I should let him be loved by someone less broken than me.
Someone with more to offer. Because what do I have now?
I have nothing.
Caleb shouts something to Magnus and then turns his head to look around, and I feel the moment his gaze lands on mine.
His mouth parts slightly, his cheeks reddening, his eyes widening.
My lungs constrict, and I tell myself to go to him, but for some reason, I can’t make myself.
I’ve been so selfish in all of this. I should let him go entirely.
He should live a life uncomplicated by my baggage.
I should let him be happy with someone else.
Turning before I can change my mind, I rush from the building.
I want to stay. Want to fight, but I don’t know if I can. Not after coming out of the battle of a lifetime. I’m exhausted, worn down.
I’m doing this for him.
It’s been too long, all of it took too fucking long.
“Whit!” a voice calls out. I know that voice. Oh god. What if he’s stopping me to tell me it’s over once more? I don’t know if I can handle that. I move faster.
“Whit!”
I hold my breath, not turning around because if I do, I may find nothing but darkness waiting for me.
But I’m forced to stop running as a hand reaches out and touches me.
The feel of his hands on me unravels me. My eyes are wet, and I clutch at my stomach to try to keep the groan at bay.
“I shouldn’t have come,” I breathe. “Go back to Magnus. I…” My words trail off, and I swipe at my eyes. “You looked happy. You should just go back. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
He huffs angrily and then blurts, “Fuck that. You might be fine, but I’ve been miserable! Magnus was just being an annoying little shit. It meant nothing.”
I shake my head, unable to process those words. Unable to believe it. Nothing has ever gone my way. It doesn’t seem possible right now.
“He wants you.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s just being…Magnus.”
I blink at him, and then my body turns away from him, needing a minute to breathe without looking at him. He steals my breath from my lungs.
He always has. From the moment I laid eyes on him, I was left gasping.
“Don’t go,” he says, holding on to me tightly.
“You really should go back in there. To him. He’s…” I swallow roughly. It’s a hard truth to admit. “He’s perfect for you.”
He reaches up and tugs at his hair.
“I’m not with Magnus!” he shouts. “I’m not interested in anyone but you! I don’t want anyone but you! Get that through your stupid, smart head!”
Those words slowly start to sink in.
“Are you…Are you sure?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes loudly. “Of course, I’m fucking sure, Whit. I want you! You!”
My lungs expand, and I let out a long exhale of realization. “Oh. Okay.”
“Okay? That’s it? That’s all I get after everything? No, absolutely not, man. You need to give me more. Why did you show up tonight? You hate these things. Why are you here?”
I wet my lips and inhale deeply, the truth ready to be exposed to the man I love. “I came to find you.”
His eyes flicker, and I see hope unfurl there.
“Why?” he asks, desperate to know.
I play with the edge of my sweater, my fingers tugging a thread free and wrapping it around my thumb. “I gave it up. All of it.”
He sags slightly. “You did?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re…oh fuck…you’re not getting married anymore?”
“No.”
“Why? Why did you do it?”
“For you,” I whisper, my eyes meeting his. Can’t he see? It was all for him. “I can’t live without you, it seems.”
In a rush, I’m pulled into his chest and squeezed against him. His face buries into the side of my neck, and he inhales me.
“I should think about this. After you lied to me and put me through hell,” he murmurs, his lips skimming my skin.
“You should,” I reply stoically despite arching into him, greedily drinking in anything he’s willing to give me. “Take all the time you need. I’ll…I’ll wait for you.”
He stares at me and then leans forward, kissing my neck once more.
“Fuck this. Fuck waiting. I’ve been miserable for weeks. Take me home,” he says.
I shake my head. “You should take all the time you need…”
“Shut up, Whit,” he grumbles. “Shut it. If you don’t take me home and fuck me, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you there. Then I will be the one tying you to the bed.”
I swallow roughly, and he reaches out, twisting my fingers through his.
“You sure?” I ask as he pulls me forward.
“A thousand percent.”
I don’t wait for him to change his mind. We take his Jeep to the apartment, crashing through the door, all limbs and tongues and teeth as we fight to consume one another. It’s been so long. He tastes so good, feels perfect against me.
I missed him more than I ever knew I could miss another.
“Now, need you now,” he moans, stripping off his clothes and stumbling into the bedroom.
I follow, unable to take my eyes off him. My shaking hands rip off my clothes until I’m just as naked as he is. And then I’m on him, my hands mapping the ridges of him, experiencing it all as if it’s our first time.
“Hurry,” Caleb pleads as I push him onto the mattress.
He holds himself open for me, legs spread wide, and without waiting, without hesitation, I grab the lube, wet my fingers, and push them inside.
He’s sinfully perfect.
Caleb’s eyes roll into the back of his head when I crook my fingers. He arches up, his cheeks flushed, his cock leaking as I work him open.
“Been so long, baby,” he moans, and I agree. I want inside of him. I never want to leave him again. But there’s something we need to discuss.
“Do I need a condom?”
He bites back a smile.
“I haven’t been with anyone but you.”
I inhale, feeling a deep relief. “Same. I could never be with anyone but you.”
Then I’m between his legs, my hands by his head, my hips pushing forward. He takes me so well. Just like he always does.
We groan in tandem, my cock stretching him wide.
His mouth meets mine, and our tongues tangle as I tunnel in and out of him. The feeling…indescribable. Like coming home.
Like finding myself once more.
“Caleb,” I whisper when our lips part for a moment. “I missed you.”
“Missed you more,” he gasps.
I arch my hips slightly, finding that spot inside of him, the one I memorized, the one that drives him crazy. He cries out as I slam forward. The headboard hits the wall, the bed creaking, but through it all, I watch him.
Watch him moan.
Pant.
Whine.
And then he says my name. With love. With reverence.
It’s all it takes. He comes, and I follow him over the edge, filling him with my release. Marking him as mine once more.
My arms shake, my moans endless as my chin hits my chest. I come down from the high of it slowly, as if waking from a dream. The dream of being with him again.
And when I’m pulling out of his wet hole, I stare at his hard, spent cock.
“Shameless,” I say with a huff.
“It’s been deprived,” he says, and I smile.
“It has. Now let’s clean up.”
“Always with the cleaning,” he teases, but I don’t mind it. I just wipe him up as best I can and then lower myself on top of him. It feels good to be here, tucked against his strong chest.
But Caleb seems discontent. He grunts beneath me and then rolls me onto my back, draping himself across me.
“Better,” he mutters.
His fingers trace over my skin, and I find myself holding on to him, worried this is all a dream. But knowing it’s not.
My dream is now my reality.
“Can I ask you something?” he finally asks.
“Anything.”
“How much was in that trust, babe?” he asks, tracing the line of my collarbone.
I sigh, not even upset about it anymore. Not when I have something worth more than that right here.
“Millions.”
He stares down at me and blinks. “Shit. Will you resent me for it? Ten years down the road? When you’re stuck with poor ol’ me?”
I shake my head adamantly. “Never. You are worth so much more than money.”
His eyes soften, and he presses his lips to my chin.
“I love you,” he says, and my eyes widen.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. After everything I put him through, and he still allows himself to love.
“What?”
He makes a face and sighs loudly. “You heard me. I. Love. You.”
I can barely speak the question from the shock of it. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He shakes his head in disbelief and then presses a kiss to my lips.
“Because you’re strong and smart, and you put up with my family. Because you deserve it after everything. You deserve to be loved. Because I just do, Whit. I’ve been in love with you for ages.”
I blink rapidly, my eyes filling with unshed tears.
“Did I break you?” he asks, pressing two fingers to my thundering pulse.
“No…” I say, wetting my lips. “I love you too.”
He grins at that, capturing my words and tucking them into his chest.
“I have something for you, actually,” I say, needing to be brave once more.
I lean over and reach into the end table to pull out that small black box—the one I bought weeks ago.
“Close your eyes.”
He does, his breath coming out heavily.
“Open them,” I whisper.
His eyes widen when he sees what I placed on his chest. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
He swallows roughly before opening it, seeing the titanium ring inside.
“Whit,” he says, his eyes filling with tears.
“I bought this for you before Thanksgiving. But I never got a chance to give it to you. You don’t need to wear it. But it’s yours. If you want it.”
“Can I try it on?” he asks and then slips it onto his ring finger. It fits perfectly.
His eyes meet mine, and I clearly see the way he feels. The love he has for me, despite it all.
“I love it,” he says and then rests his head on my chest.
He’s silent a moment, that metal ring cold on my warm skin.
“Should I buy you a ring now?” he asks.
That makes my heart beat increase. “If you want.”
He twirls the ring with his finger. “Does this mean we’re really engaged this time?”
I tug on his hair and force him to look at me.
“It’s that easy?” I ask. How can he just forgive me like this? Shouldn’t I have to grovel more?
He shrugs. “Should I play harder to get? Anne says I’m a pushover.”
I huff a small laugh. “No. Not with me.”
“Good, because for you, I’m a total pushover. Get used to it.”
I blink at him, always in a constant state of disbelief that I’m good enough for him. “How did I get so lucky?”
He kisses the tip of my nose, my cheeks, my lips.
And of course it ends up like it always does—him begging for it.
He ends up impaled on me, riding me like his life depends on it, his ringed finger clutching the space above my heart as we fall over the edge.