Chapter 55
off the rails
Liam
Watching Lorien ride me has gone from fascinating to worrisome. Her gallop has become less than a trot.
Her eyes are closed, her nose looks almost pink, and her face has gone from pleasure to lost in thought.
With an ab curl I didn’t know I had in me, I sit up, face to face with the woman I’m more than fascinated with.
With a gasp, her eyes fly open, her gaze locks on mine, and her hands come to my neck, well above the injured spot. Her hardened nipples rubbing against my chest is torture for both of us.
We stare at each other as she undulates on my cock, rippling her pussy around my length, grinding her clit against my pubic bone.
There’s something working behind her eyes. She’s deep in thought, deep in her feelings, and I’m deep in her so I know when she’s here physically but not otherwise.
“Where did you go?” I whisper.
She shakes her head too quickly. “Nowhere.”
Reaching under her armpits, I round her shoulders and pull her down on me. “Can you feel me inside you?”
“Yes.”
“Does it feel good?”
She wiggles a little, searching for friction. “Yes.”
“Do you trust me?”
Her eyes lock on mine. “Yes.”
“Where did you go?”
She fights to lift off me, but I pull her down while pushing up into her as much as I can. “Tell me.”
She shakes her head, and a lone tear spills over her cheek.
“I can’t fix it if you won’t tell me.”
Well, that was the wrong thing to say. The first tear is met by others. It’s an incredible boner-killer.
She rests her face in the crook of my neck, and when I let up from her shoulders, she rises to glide but sinks back down with violence, fighting for something that I fear was lost in the fray.
I find her clit and stroke as she bounces, and I fight to get her there.
When she throws her head back in release, it’s as much metaphorical as it is literal. She’s exposed. She’s chosen to let go. And her eyes are fully gone to me.
If it weren’t for her pussy milking my cock with such force, I’d fight to not release at all. It feels all wrong. It feels like consummating the wrong vow or something. Instead, heat rushes down my spine, and unable to stave it off, I spill into her, knowing shit just went off the rails.
And I don’t know why… or how to fix it.
She’s off me and in the bathroom before my cock has stopped pulsing.
Fuck no. Nope. Nu-uh.
Emo wife? Okay.
Weird sex? Maybe.
But rushing to rid herself of all evidence of me? Fuck no.
I’m through the door and staring as she begins cleaning herself up. It’s far too intimate a moment if I were paying any attention at all. It’s private—or it should be—but all I see is her scrubbing me off her body, out of her.
I see red. “What are you doing?” The words are lethally quiet.
She sniffs and stares at me in horrified embarrassment. “What are you doing?
“I’m watching you scrape me off you like shit from a shoe.”
She turns on me, hair flying wide, and her eyes hard. “You certainly can’t expect me to go to work with your semen inside me.”
Cum. The whole world says cum except for the biochemist I married.
“Work? You can’t go to work today? And I expect you not to be disgusted by our orgasms.”
“Disgusted?” Her shoulders drop from her ears until she’s six inches shorter than normal. “And why can’t I go to work today?”
“Hmm. Let me see, the owner of the moving company knows where you work, his felon nephew knows when you come and go. We have the son of a serial killer who knows where we live, and my father showed yesterday and got a good look at you. He’s arrogant as fuck, and I hate him.
I’m also wearing this.” I hold up my left hand where the black band sits.
“Which reminds me, you should be wearing yours. And that’s not to mention those old bomb threats against Platt that we’ve never addressed. ”
There’s barely enough wind in her lungs to repeat the words “bomb threats” as she sinks to the floor.
I know she doesn’t mean to say it aloud. Mostly because I don’t think she knows she has when she utters, “And I thought falling in love with you was the worst part of my life.”
I take four steps backward and out of the bathroom on autopilot, closing the door behind me and dressing with more efficiency than I typically possess.
I’m on my motorcycle after a single text to Cian.
Me: Need to clear my head. I’m going for a ride. Don’t let Lorien leave the house. Please.
I consider having some loud music screaming at me from my helmet. I consider something angsty and angry and violent.
But angsty, angry, and violent are warring in my head as I hit the road to find a twisty mountain road.
On one hand, Lorien is in love with me. I never expected it. I never sought it. I never knew I wanted it until I heard her say it.
And I do fucking want it.
Badly.
On the other hand, apparently loving me is the worst part of her life.
Love and loss… all in one sentence.
I never knew rejection could be so efficient at killing me.
Lorien
“What do you mean no?”
Cian Murphy stands a couple inches taller than Liam. He’s the boy next door instead of Liam’s gruff give-no-care attitude. He’s a golden retriever to my husband’s black cat nature.
My husband… I told him I was falling in love with him. And he bolted faster than a particle collider smashes atoms.
I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m drained. I’m scared. I was rejected hard after making myself vulnerable.
And the last person in the world I want to be mad at is Cian, even if he’s making it hard not to be.
“Just so you know, this isn’t my favorite. Sariah can tell you, I’m protective, but not in the not-trusting way. I don’t like being a hard ass. It’s not in my nature.”
“Then, please excuse me while I call a rideshare.”
“I can’t do that, Lorien.”
“You can’t stop me.” I try to keep my voice firm and even, leaving the anger out of it. I’m a grown woman with a job, not an unloved, unwanted person to be kept locked up.
“Please don’t make me. Stop you, that is. There’s a lot going on right now, and Liam wants you safe.”
“Yeah, saving his butt from the lawsuit is top of the list, I’m sure.”
Confusion mars Cian’s face. “I hadn’t even factored that in, actually. I wonder if Sherman knows anything on that front.”
“I’m no lawyer, but it seems it hasn’t been enough time to know anything like that.” I look down at the ring on my finger. It was out on the nightstand when I got out of the bathroom. Come to think of it, it might’ve been there last night too.
“If it makes you feel any better, Ayla has a whole day planned.”
“I have a job. I work for a living.” I look around the mansion I’m standing in. “I have bills to pay, Cian. Soon that’ll include a car note I hadn’t budgeted for.” Which is yet another reason I’m stuck here.
“We all do. This isn’t easy on any of us, just so you know.”
There’s an older woman laying trays of breakfast food out on the island. Christian mans the espresso machine fulfilling orders as they’re placed.
A man I’ve never seen before lounges on the sofa watching the goings-on with amusement and intention, all the while sipping espresso. He’s dark and angular and would be scary if he weren’t so hot.
Wills and Sophia are on blankets on the floor in front of him, staring at each other and stretching. Sariah and Ayla move around as if they’ve known each other for decades.
Here I am, the odd woman out. The odd person out. I’m not family. I wasn’t chosen or adopted in. Heck, that unknown man on the sofa looks like he belongs more than I do.
I slowly make my way to the stairs and slide into the bedroom that smells like Liam and sex and holds brutal memories.
Poe hisses when I sit down.
“You were supposed to be mine, you know. The whole get-a-cat thing was for me. Of course, he’d find you. Of course you’d love him. Why am I not surprised that you don’t even like me?” Even the cat has more of a place in this family than I do.
Yesterday, I wanted to be home.
Today home feels like a faraway dream.