Chapter 11
Monroe
The sun shines brighter. The birds' chirping is chippier. The morning brings with it a new light that I hadn't thought I’d ever understand, thanks to all the romance novels I've read and movies I've watched.
“Do you think she knows?” I whisper, hearing Rita down in the kitchen making breakfast. We were not quiet during the night.
“Not likely,” he croons as he’s, once again, licking along the column of my throat. Something Shaw does a lot. Kissing down my chest, licking along my quivering belly. He spreads my thighs and blows cool air along the folds of my sex.
“Shaw,” I purr, arching my back.
“Just enjoy the ride, baby.” And enjoy, I do.
He’s gentle and greedy as he kisses, licks, and sucks at me. Devouring my core like a starved man. Brushing my hands through his thick dark hair, I hold him tightly to my body. Never wanting him to move.
Closing my eyes, I can feel my core getting ready for release again.
My pulse feels like it’s ready to leap out of my veins, and my heart doesn’t know whether it’s going to keep beating.
When I begin to get light-headed, I know I’m about to have another orgasm.
He’s kept me on the edge and enjoyed tossing me over all night long.
I don’t know how much more I can handle before I pass out completely.
“Shaw, please.” I never know what I’m begging him for. I don’t want him to stop, but to continue on is nearly painful.
“Since you asked so nicely.” I can picture his wolfish grin as I feel him move over my body as the head of his cock slowly breaches my welcoming channel.
It’s a slow build-up to the finish line for both of us as his arms wrap around my back and mine around his neck. We hold each other close, breathing the same breath, eyes never losing contact, and when our bodies can’t possibly take another stroke, he slows down, and we start all over again.
“Loving you is the best decision I’ve never had the pleasure of making,” he murmurs against my lips, and I smile at the fake grumble in his tone as our climax reaches its peak, and we fall over the edge together silently.
He doesn’t give either of us a moment to catch our breaths as he drags me from bed to the shower. The heat of the water on my body is relaxing and welcoming as Shaw lathers shampoo into my hair. I’ve learned to leave him alone when he does that because he genuinely enjoys pampering me.
“You know.” His voice is thoughtful. “We have not used a condom once.” I blush because even with the amount of lovemaking we’ve engaged in, I’m still not comfortable talking about it.
“You could be pregnant,” he says, and I look up at him through my lashes.
He doesn’t appear displeased about the idea.
“I could.” My words are low, shy, as I turn away to rinse the suds from my hair. I’ve never thought about children before, so I’m not sure how to react myself, let alone how I want him to.
“Would you be angry?” Even with the scalding heat of the water, I feel his natural warmth when he steps into my back.
I’m not sure what he wants me to say here, so I give him honesty. “I never really thought about having children before.”
His arms wrap around my belly, and I’m shook. “Now, you can.” His supportive words aren’t pushing me into thinking about it right now, more like telling me that my life is my own now, and I can dream of anything I want to have.
Turning into his chest, I rub my hands up his muscular frame and look him in the eyes.
“Can I?” I’m not sure what I’m asking of him, or if I even am asking anything.
Uncertainty has always been my companion, though, and out of everyone in my life, he seems to understand that more than anyone else ever has.
“Yeah, baby.” He brushes the damp hair off my face. “You can dream of anything you want now. Anything at all.”
Relief swamps me at his words because, even though I hadn't realized it, that is, indeed, what I need to hear from him. Being free to make my own decisions is what I have always wanted and never been granted.
Shaw is my first choice. No questions. If he allows it, I’ll stay here with him forever.
* * *
Shaw
The doorbell rings, and I know Rita is in the kitchen cooking up some sort of feast, so I leave Monroe to answer it without making love to her again, and it's hard as hell.
Opening the door unprepared is even worse.
“You son of a…”
Bang!
A raging inferno blazes through my side as I hit the ground with a loud thud. Stunned, I’m slow to react as the man steps over me and heads upstairs.
To Monroe.
“Shaw!” I hear Rita’s horrified gasp as she rushes over, phone in one hand, gun in another. Reaching for the weapon as she’s talking on the phone, I struggle to stand.
“Monroe!” I yell to warn her, even though she must have heard the shot.
An invader in my home wasn’t something I had prepared her for.
“Don’t move,” Rita scolds.
“Help me up,” I demand, ignoring her. The asshole couldn’t aim a gun to save his fucking life. He hit my side, likely missing vital organs. But no matter where you’re shot, It’s always shocking. And painful as fucking hell.
“Monroe!” I yell her name again. Not hearing her respond could mean she’s hiding, or it could mean Alton has her in his hands. Either scenario is going to earn him a bullet for himself.
“Rita!” I bark her name as she’s looking shellshocked, “Go to my office. Lock the door. Don’t come out until I sound the all-clear.” She nods and scurries off.
“Alton, you son of a bitch.” Ignoring the burning in my side isn’t difficult because Monroe needs me. Yelling out is going to distract him and hopefully keep her safe.
“She’s mine!” The creep calls back as I’m slowly walking up the stairs. His voice is coming from the hallway leading to the guest bedroom where her things are. At the opposite end of where our room is. A good sign.
Reaching the top of the stairs, I dart a quick look around the corner leading to our room and see Monroe’s head peek out.
Relief eases the constriction in my chest as I wave her back.
Her eyes are wide and terrified, filling with tears as she sees the blood I can feel leaking from my side, but she nods and goes back into hiding.
I take a deep breath, knowing Monroe is out of harm's way, and concentrate on Alton. Leading with my gun, I stealthily make my way down the hall to the guest room. Approaching the doorway, I can hear the bastard rifling through her belongings and muttering unintelligibly to himself.
“Alton, if you don’t drop your weapon, this only ends one way.” I’ve barely finished speaking when more gunshots ring out, hitting the wall across the hall.
From the corner of my eye, I see Monroe open the door a bit again. I shake my head and wave her back. She’s horrified, and all I want to do is reassure her, but I can’t until Alton is stopped. One way or another.
Crouching low, I realize this isn’t going to end peacefully.
“Come on, Alton, drop the gun.” He fires again as expected.
I count to thirty before I dart a quick look through the open doorway. He’s facing the bed where he’s scattered Monroe’s clothes.
Whistling, to get his attention, I take aim and fire at his gun arm as he spins. I don’t want to take the man’s life. It’s never easy to deal with the mental ramifications afterwards, so this is an alternate solution to corral him.
His pained howl is drowned out by the sounds of sirens getting closer. Standing, I grab the leotards I see on the bed and roll Alton to his belly as he bitches and moans. “You shot me!”
“You shot me first, asshole.” Hogtied, I leave him on the floor after grabbing his weapon and nearly get tackled by Monroe as she slams into me, her arms wrapping tight around my waist. “Shit,” I hiss from the pain of my wound.
“Sorry,” she mumbles into my chest but doesn’t let me go. Can’t say I mind too much. “I can’t believe he shot you.” Her words are tear-filled as the sheriff comes rushing through the open front door, followed by Draven and Angel.
“Damn, Shaw.” Draven shakes his head as he comes up to help me down.
“He grazed me when I opened the door,” I mutter.
“Grazed, my ass.” He rolls his eyes.
“Will Shaw be alright?” Monroe’s worried voice follows us out to the ambulance I hadn’t realized was here.
Reaching a hand out for her after I’m helped onto the gurney, I pull her up with me, ignoring the medics protests and my own pain. “I’m fine, baby. Just a graze.” I narrow my eyes on Draven when he opens his mouth to dispute me.
As the medics begin checking over my wound, I watch the sheriff bring Alton out in cuffs and escort him to the back of his cruiser, likely waiting for another ambulance.
After the prick's secured, the man strides over to Monroe and me. “A deputy will be along to the hospital in a little bit to take your statements.” I nod because I was given something for pain and can barely hold my head up.
Draven walks off with the sheriff, and I watch them until Monroe touches my face, turning me to look at her.
“I love you, Shaw Remington, but if you ever get shot for me again, I’m going to kick you.” Her threat is adorable, so I only nod.