Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
FALLING
Six Months Later
Jules
“I can’t believe I wore these all night,” I groan and slip my feet out of the torture devices that masquerade as shoes. My poor toes flex after being confined for so long and sink into the soft rug that covers the floor under his bed.
“I love you in your sneakers, but I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t mind feeling the point of those in my ass while you scream my name tonight,” Omar drawls from the bed behind me where he’s spread out like a lion after a satisfying meal.
He had a meal all right: me. As soon as we climbed in after the event at Inner Temple tonight, he pulled me over to his side of the car, lowered the seat, and ate me until I was sobbing in ecstasy.
But it wasn’t enough, and I can’t wait to pick up where we left off. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him, and nothing makes me happier than when he makes it clear he feels the same way.
The last six months have been, unequivocally, the very best of my life, professionally and personally. I am in a place thirteen-year-old me couldn’t even imagine.
And during a beautiful ceremony at the Temple Church this evening, I was awarded the coveted Pupil of the Year award.
I didn’t have to scan the room to catch the eye of anyone as I walked to the stage to accept it. Tonight, Omar sat by my side, and when my name was called, he kissed me so long and hard that several wolf whistles accompanied the applause that rang through the room on my way to the stage.
He was on his feet when my speech was over and held my hand while I accepted personal congratulations from my peers and superiors.
“I want to show you something,” he says, and I look over at the bed with a coy smile and wag my finger at him.
“I’ve gotta use the ladies’, but get your something ready so I can hop on and make it worth the wait.”
He chuckles, lifts his phone up, and taps the screen. “Not that something, my little nympho.”
“You made me into what I am.” I snicker and shimmy my hips. “And I can’t wait to see it, but first I have to answer nature’s call. Where’s my phone?” I look around the bedroom and spot it on the bed next to Omar’s black sock-clad foot.
I reach for it, but Omar makes a wild lunge from the bed, using his long arms to snatch the small clutch before me.
“What are you doing?” I stare at him, confused.
He pulls it out of the bag. “It’s rude to use your phone in the bathroom.” He glances at my screen and quirks his lip. “It’s dead anyway.” He rolls over and sticks it on the charger.
“Thank you, I guess. Be right back.”
“If you’re going to be in there long enough to need your phone, please for the love of everything holy, turn on the fan,” he yells at me through the closed door.
“I’ve told you, I don’t need the fan. Because my shit does not smell bad.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing out loud.
“Everybody’s shit smells bad.”
“Have you smelled everyone’s shit? I know you haven’t smelled mine, or we wouldn’t be having this argument,” I shout back.
“You were born to argue.”
“And you were born to give me a reason to,” I retort.
He just growls. I snicker quietly, but the smile on the face of the person staring back at me in the mirror while I wash my hands could be on a billboard that reads “a person in love.”
I spot an Architectural Digest sitting at the top of a basket full of magazines. Omar’s house is on the very front. And despite what he said, we’ve had several uninvited voyeurs coming by to take pictures. I’m so glad I said no to being included. It would make it so easy for Conrad to find me again. I banish the thought as quickly as it comes.
Nothing lasts forever, and I know this bliss won’t be an exception to that rule. But I’ve stopped worrying about what’s to come. I’m living in the moment, savoring every mouthwatering second.
I’m done and out in less than a minute and smirk when his eyebrows shoot up. “I only had to pee, I told you.” I shimmy out of my dress. “One sec and I’ll come see the tile work that’s got you so hot and bothered,” I tease.
“Very funny.” He tosses a small throw pillow at me. I shriek and duck just in time for it to sail over my head.
“I’m not being funny.” I drape my dress onto the back of the chair of my vanity. “It’s dead sexy that you’re handy.” I raise one arm and rest it on the door frame of the bathroom and put the other on my cocked hip. “I love watching you hammering more than anything,” I drawl in a seductive voice.
His greedy gaze hasn’t left me since I started to undress, but now he’s put the phone down and undoes the front of his trousers.
“ You in that lingerie is dead sexy.”
“What, this old thing?” I run a hand over the front of my violet lace body suit.
He growls. “Come here, you. Let me show you how handy I am . ”
“Only if you promise to let me hold your screwdriver.” I strut over to the bed and plop down next to him.
He slaps my ass and pulls me into his side. I drape a leg over his and rest my head on his chest. “I’m glad you’ve got jokes, and I can’t wait for you to apologize for teasing me after you see this.”
My phone starts to vibrate on the bedside table, as what sounds like an endless stream of notifications pop up. “What in the world?” I ask and reach over him for it.
He snags it and gives it to me.
“It’s your IG notifications blowing up.”
“Why would that be? I post twice a year, and my account is private.”
“I tagged you in something tonight.”
My heart stops. I close my eyes and groan. “What did you tag me in?”
“A video.”
“Of what?” I ask with as much patience as I can muster.
“Part of your speech.”
I prop myself up on one arm and look down at him in disbelief. He looks completely unperturbed. “Why?”
“Because I was fucking proud of you, and I wanted the whole world to know.”
My stomach falls, and dread creeps up my spine in prickles of ice that chill me to the bone. “Omar, you have like twenty million followers. I don’t want to be in the public eye. We talked about this already. My job requires discretion. If you want back in the spotlight, I’m happy for you, but I don’t want my face splashed across tabloids.”
He flinches like I slapped him. “I didn’t post a video of you with your ass spread out on my bed, Jules. Damn.”
My eyes fill with tears. “Why would you do post anything of me at all? Without asking me first?”
He pulls me into his side, and I let him because I need the soothing his touch always brings. “Jules, please . Just watch it before you freak. Trust me.” His voice is gruff, and his eyes are pleading. And that is enough. I do trust him. Like I’ve never trusted anyone in my life.
“Of course. Okay, let me see.” He hands me his phone, open to a post with a video. I steel myself, open the link, and press play.
“I dedicate this award to every young person who’s caught in a storm not of their making. Don’t be afraid of the rain, let it nourish the parts of you left parched by your pursuit of constant sunshine. Don’t run from the wind, lean into it. Spread your wings, and let it propel you. And have faith that if you work hard, when your opportunity comes—and it will come—you’ll be ready to meet it.
“I believe in you. I am you. And this award belongs to all of us who defied the odds. Thank you, the Inner Temple, for this honor. I’ll work every day to continue to be worthy of it.”
I’d forgotten what I said when I got to the small podium. I didn’t expect to win, and I hadn’t prepared a speech.
I glance at Omar, press pause, and cup his face. There’s an apology in my eyes and on the tip of my tongue. But he presses a hand to my lips to silence me.
“I love you, Beat. More than I thought possible. But keep watching, please.” He presses play, and I tear my eyes from his face back to the screen. He cuts to a video of himself. I recognize the stone columns of the outside of the church. He must have done this while he waited for me to pose for official pictures.
His normally direct gaze drops to the phone, and his fingers fidget with the fringe of the bed’s duvet. A flush spreads across his cheek, and I’m so endeared by the fact that he’s nervous that I want to hurry up and watch the video so I can rip his clothes off and say a proper thank you.
He’s sitting with his back against one of the columns outside the Temple Church. His dark gray tie is loose, and the top button of his crisp white shirt is open. He’s smiling, and his breathtaking eyes are bright and intent. “Hey, people. It’s been a minute, but I’ve been busy making up for lost time. The woman you saw in the previous video giving that incredible speech is the reason I’m in London. Not because I’m marrying one of the royal princesses or coaching a championship league team. Fuck whoever started that rumor. I’m here because she is. No one is more surprised than I am that I fell in love so fast and furious. But Jules is light, and color, and so much clarity. She’s proof that change can happen in a split second. Because all it took to change my whole world view was meeting someone who understood me, heard me, saw me. And as if that’s not enough, look how fucking fine my woman is. Actually don’t look, cause I’m jealous as hell. Anyway, you keep asking when I’m coming home, and all I can say is that I’m already home. Not London. But her. ” He glances over his shoulder and actually giggles when he looks back at the screen . “Here she comes. She’s going to want to kick my ass for this, but only until I get my hands on her.” He winks at the camera, and the video ends.
I stare at him, speechless. My heart stutters and strives at the same time. I’m happier than I have any right to be.
“How mad are you?” he asks.
I shake my head, put the phone down, and swing my leg over his lap to straddle him.
“I’m the luckiest person in the world,” I whisper through a throat clogged by love and want and a little bit of terror. He’s amazing. I can’t believe I found him and that he found me and we have this thing that’s bigger than either of us imagined. “I thought…I’d always be alone.”
His broad hand cradles my neck and draws me forward. “Not anymore. Never again. Not while I’m around.”
There’s a scream building in my chest that I can’t release, and just when I think it’s going to consume me, his lips cover mine. They are a lifeboat, and I’m not afraid of drowning anymore. I see the light, the way home. The barbed vines of despair that began their threatening creep up and over my heart cower in the face of his fierce claim of it as his own.
I lose myself in the moment and imagine that this could last forever. He doesn’t know it yet, but these same lips that saved me from the drowned deep will be the instruments of our destruction.
Because not only will Conrad know how to find me and won’t have to wait for luck to swing his way. Now, he knows I have more to lose than just my job.
And when he comes, not even my lionhearted lover will be able to save me.