Chapter 23
Warner
Cookies can’t compete with the delicacy that is Delaney.
Sucking her clit sends her into her release, ecstasy tremoring through her body beneath my mouth. Her legs squeeze around my ears, and I reach my arm around her thigh, realizing this fucking cast hinders my ability to hold her tight.
I steal one last taste of her before grabbing the condom and rolling onto my back.
I steady the packet between my teeth and rip it open, pulling the condom from inside it and spitting the packet to the side.
I’ve done this enough in my life. I’m an expert, but having the use of only one hand adds an element of difficulty I could do without.
I turn to see Sass lying with one arm wide on her other side, and the other across my chest. “How are you doing over there?”
She rolls her head to face me and smiles.
If perfection had a physical definition, she would be it.
Glassy eyes make her blues shine brighter, the pink of her lips is richer from kissing, and that smile makes my heart beat faster when she looks at me like that.
“There’s no word that captures how amazing I feel.
” She rolls onto her side and kisses my head. “I want you to feel like this.”
“I want that, too.” I fucking want it so much. I want her so badly my dick aches.
Without me having to do a thing, she moves to situate herself on top of me.
With one lift, I guide my dick inside her and then slide to hold her hip as she consumes me whole.
Her head falls back, the tips of her hair dangling across the tops of my legs.
When she starts a slow gyration, I reach up and take hold of her tits, one and then the other, not to leave one out.
Pinching the pink peaks, I watch them pebble for me as goose bumps ripple across her arms, and the vibration of a low moan rumbles through my fingertips against her chest.
I sit up, taking a nipple in my mouth, teasing and taunting until her body jolts and she laughs. With her fingers digging into my hair, she leans down to whisper in my ear, “You’re such a bad boy when you want to be.”
I’d gone easy, let her control the pace and plunder, but not with the words laid out like a dare for me to do. Running my hand up the center of her back and into her hair, I hold her right where she is and turn my mouth to her ear. “You don’t know what you’ve started.”
She leans back to catch my gaze and goddamn smirks at me. “Don’t I?”
“You’re lucky I only have the use of one arm.”
“Hasn’t stopped you so far.” Challenge accepted.
I flip her down onto the mattress, her hair flying from the fast action as a squeal rushes from her lungs.
I start fucking her like this bad girl wants—hard, fast, deeper than she thought possible.
Forcing a breath out with each thrust, I secure my hand to her shoulder and fuck her like I wanted to the first time we butted heads.
She’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever fucking met, and that mouth of hers, the snark and comebacks, her stubborn streak have all been foreplay.
So I give her what she wants and take what I need.
Digging her nails into my shoulders, she chants my name as if I’m the one she worships. I kiss her neck, licking the base of her jawline, predicting a downfall once the truth comes to light. How will we survive our own lies? I’m not convinced we can.
I bite because she’s so goddamn beautiful, and my basest instincts to own every part of her kick in. I start to sink my teeth, but soothe any red I left with a swipe of my tongue. “I want you,” I confess on the next breath.
Our bodies slow, the connection still strong between us when she lifts my chin with only her fingertip. “You have me, Warner. I’m yours.” She kisses my lips, and then whispers, “I’m right here with you.”
I exhale, knowing I’ll keep the lies going forever if it means I get to keep her. I pick up my pace, and this time, I slide my hand between her legs. Her body reacts with an arched back and thrust of her pelvis. When I rub her bud, she says, “Don’t stop. I’m so close.”
As if I could. I’m too damn selfish for that.
I thrust into her, so turned on by the tightness and hold she not only has on my body but also on my heart.
Her hands grab my ass and urge me forward.
I pull back, taking her in before I plunge forward again.
She has me staggering on the precipice of the abyss.
I don’t fight it. I close my eyes and welcome it.
My body moves of its own accord toward the desire to embrace euphoria with her. When I come, the sounds of my girl falling with me fill my space and time, capture and release.
And when I return to the haven of this life with her, I wrap my arm around her and hold her to my chest. Her breathing is ragged while her body recovers, collapsed on top of mine. Sweat slicks over our skin, and a few cookie crumbs stick to her back.
I grin. What a fucking mess we’re in, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not with her. This is heaven. I kiss the top of her head and then remove the condom. “You hungry? I think I’m going to heat up the spaghetti and meatballs.”
The rattle of her body against mine, the lift of her cheek on my chest, has me smiling in response. She rests her hand on me and her chin on top of that. “I could eat.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Am I, Warner? Am I your girl?” Her smile is softer, matching our breathing as it regulates back to normal. Her expression is so genuine and not shaped by disbelief, but more by the hope that it might be true.
Sometimes I wonder how this will play out, how the truth eventually finds the light.
I’m certain too much damage will be done by that point.
But this between us now, that look in her eyes, gives me the same hope she’s feeling.
“You are, Sass.” I kiss her head and then shift to the side.
She falls onto the mattress as I slide off.
“Mainly,” I say with a chuckle, “because no one else would put up with the nonsense.” Rolling onto her back, tits up, and a grin so big that you’d think she was trying to win over some pageant judges, she laughs.
I’m already walking into the bathroom, tossing the trash away and mapping out my plan of attack.
I’ll take a shower and then tackle the cleaning.
Vacuuming the carpet to changing the sheets, I’m making a list in my mind when she says, “What you call nonsense others consider treasure. Be careful, Hotshot, or you just might lose me to the competition.”
I hadn’t thought about her life outside of this apartment until I met her family.
That was the extent of it. She could have a boyfriend.
Hell, she could be married to someone else for all I know.
Neither is reasonable if I have tonight to go by.
Her family wasn’t in on the grand plan. They would have said something if she had someone special in her life. Right?
Either way, her words, whether she’s joking or not, are a punch to the gut. A hit of reality injected into a great night to ruin it. I stop, turning back and filling the doorway. Staring at her, I ask, “Is there competition?”
She sits up. “Now, why would you ask me that?” A smile is still on her face, but it’s gentler, mingling with the concern in her eyes. “I only left the other day, and then I was back the next. How fast do you think I operate?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
She gets off the bed and comes to stand in front of me.
When I look up, annoyance has replaced the bliss in the aftermath.
With her hand on her hip, her eyes stay on the floor, and she shakes her head as disbelief embodies her shoulders.
I can sense the shift in her mood. She finally looks up at me, and says, “If you don’t trust me, just say it.
No use keeping me around if you don’t believe I’ve been true to you. ”
Before she escapes into the bathroom, I capture her wrist. “True or genuine?”
The question pulls her brows together, and then, with a resolve into indifference, she shrugs. “Does it really matter?” She pulls her wrist away and enters the bathroom behind me.
In the heat of the moment, I convince myself that the lies don’t matter, that the act is over, and she’s here for me and not some payout.
With the embers remaining and ready to burn out, the truth hurts.
I enter the bathroom as she’s dipped into the shower to turn on the faucet. “What do you do for a living?”
She drops her head down as if I’ve exhausted her more from the line of questioning than the sex. Looking up, she sighs. “I get that you have amnesia, but you don’t remember anything?”
“Not about you. Nothing. Not one memory that we haven’t made in the past few days exists.”
“It exists,” she says with such conviction she almost convinces me I’m wrong. “You just don’t remember.”
“Sure. That’s it.”
She grabs a towel to preload it onto the hook. “What about work? What’s the last thing you remember about your job?”
I get my own towels, not ignoring the fact that they’re all mine, and hang them on the hook next to hers. “I remember speaking to Jocelyn—”
“Your assistant?” She steps back from the shower and looks at me.
How does she know who she is? Have I mentioned Jocelyn before without remembering saying the name? I take a step back to figure out what the fuck is going on. How would she know that?
That’s it. I’m done playing this game. I care about Delaney, but these secrets are becoming too much to ignore.
I was hoping she’d tell me the truth, especially when given the perfect opportunity several times over.
Yet another test falls off the tip of my tongue, wondering how she’ll respond. “Yes, my assistant.”
“I almost forgot who she was. Carry on.”
“Almost like you’re the one with amnesia.” I don’t know if she’s failing or passing since she’s got my thoughts all messed up.
She laughs. “Funny.” There’s no humor heard in it. “So you remember work but not me? I really made an impression, didn’t I?” The sound is more restrained, but at least she seems to be laughing to herself this time.
“Yeah, seems so.” I reach in to test the temperature of the water. Since it’s ready, I’d love to get in, but this damn cast must be covered. “Do you mind helping me?”
She grabs the bag and the elastic and slips both over my arm. There’s no irritation in the act or stalled in her muscles, which I expected since I’ve put her on the defensive. Just kindness, which I appreciate. “You’re not about to steal my shower, are you?”
“Nope. Thanks for the help.” I step under the spray of the water.
“I was already coming in for a shower when you overtook everything.” I could say that about a few things.
I leave the stall door open as an invitation.
I’m sure she’d feel better clean like I will.
I’ll feel better if I get all this off my chest.
Delaney looks annoyed with her arms crossed over her chest and her little foot tapping in irritation. But that’s something she’s going to have to work through on her own. I have a bigger mess to clean up—our relationship.
You would have thought she was surrounding a great battle when she enters the shower and closes the door behind her.
Somber, the quiet between us gives too much time to stare at one another and ignore what I know we’re both thinking.
Ignoring doesn’t do either one of us any favors, so I ask, “If there was one thing you wish I remembered about you, what would that be?”
She slides against me until she’s covered by the spray instead.
I want to laugh, but it’s not the time for that.
With her eyes closed and head tilted back, the water runs down the length of her hair.
She rubs her hands over her face, focusing on her eyes before lifting and opening them.
“No matter what happens, I hope you can remember how you felt when you said you loved me.” She holds my gaze, not looking away, but searching for something I don’t know if I can give her.
The conflict I’ve felt inside from falling for her to feeling used isn’t lessened by her words. They’re deepened, though. When did I tell her that? I scroll through the short time we’ve had together, and when my feelings were heightened. Sex.
Oh shit . . .
My lips were attached to her neck.
Our bodies pushing us closer to coming.
Fuck.
“I love you” is not the same as “I love your body.” Though I’m not so sure that I didn’t say what I mean, I know it’s not how I would have chosen to tell her the first time.
I remember what we were doing and how incredible it felt.
The emotions attached are more powerful.
I might be dabbling in enemy territory and walking a fine line.
The wrong words could send this all spiraling, but the right ones sit on the tip of my tongue. I love her and can’t lose her.
She pours shampoo into the palm of her hand but doesn’t wash her hair.
She washes mine, moving behind me and reaching up on her tiptoes to massage my scalp and lather the hair.
“I know things aren’t perfect, Warner, but they’re ours and we’re each other’s—flaws and all.
And that’s something I’m okay with. More than okay. Rinse.”
I dip my head under the water and rub my fingers through it to get the soap out. Flaws and all. Is that what the lies are? Simple flaws in the biometrics of our relationship? When everything else is so good, can I, will I, be able to overlook the issues?
Watching her now as she washes her own hair, still feeling cared for after she washed mine without me even asking, but it’s the way she makes me laugh that has been eye-opening. I was stuck in the boredom of my life, but she’s shown me another way to live.
I don’t want to fight with her, and I don’t want her on the defensive when she’s with me. “I want us to be together, Sass. How do you feel about that?”
Beaming up at me like I wasn’t giving her the third degree not ten minutes ago, she says, “I thought you’d never ask.
” She might have known where this was going already, but she waited patiently for me to catch up.
Now that I’m by her side, and this is my girl, officially, who cares how we got here?
We’re where we’re supposed to be. That’s all that matters.