8. Rowan
8
ROWAN
“P lease, can you go faster?” I knew the answer was no. The cab driver couldn’t risk getting pulled over, or worse, because some weeping, shaking wreck of a woman begged him to floor the gas pedal.
I sank back against the vinyl seat, covering my eyes with one trembling hand. The truth was out. He knew. What happened next? I couldn’t worry about that when it took everything in me not to throw up what little dinner I managed to eat earlier. What if that guy had gotten in without being scared off?
What if he…
Stop it.
Playing ‘what if’ was a waste of time. Hannah was fine—a little shaken up after she heard her aunt shouting in the living room, but she had been tucked in bed with the door closed when everything happened. She was only upset now because Rhiannon was upset. Things could have gone a lot worse.
Calling the police when I wasn’t there would only make her more upset. I had to believe I made the right choice as the cab pulled to a stop in front of my building. I rushed through paying before bolting from the car and running for the entrance, taking the stairs to the fifth floor rather than waiting for the elevator. My baby was up there, and she needed me. I had already wasted enough time with Spencer.
“It’s me,” I called out between ragged breaths after knocking on the door. Rapid footsteps sounded on the other side, the chain slid, and the door opened.
“Mommy?” Hannah was wide-eyed, her long hair a little mussed from bed as she ran for me, holding out her arms. I dropped to my knees before she crashed into me hard enough to almost knock me over, burying her face in my neck. “I was so scared.”
“I am so sorry that happened, sweetheart. You’re okay. Everything is all right now.” My sister, meanwhile, was biting her nails, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she watched us from in front of the window overlooking the street. She had been looking for me.
“What should we do?” she whispered while I rocked Hannah and tried to see my way through the tangle of thoughts, fears, and questions bouncing around inside my skull. What if… who was he… was he coming back…
One thing was obvious. “I don’t think you should spend the night here, sweetie,” I whispered in Hannah’s ear, stroking her back. Her tiny hitching breaths were painful to hear. “I can’t get the door fixed until morning, and I wouldn’t feel safe with you here if I can’t lock it.”
“But then you won’t be safe,” she whimpered, clinging to me.
“I’ll be just fine. I’m going to call the police and make a report, and then I’m going to have to be here first thing in the morning for the repairman. I’m going to look up alarm companies, too, and have a system installed. We’re going to be so safe here. Don’t you worry.”
Looking at Rhiannon, I asked, “Can you take her to Mom and Dad’s?”
“Of course.” She looked relieved now that she had a definite plan and jumped into action, grabbing her purse and phone.
“You can come back tomorrow,” I promised Hannah, kissing her forehead and cheeks, which tasted slightly salty. She’d done a lot of crying. My poor, sweet baby.
“Come with me,” Hannah begged while fresh tears swam in her big, blue eyes. God, she looked so much like Spencer sometimes. It was hard to breathe, especially now when he was more than a memory. His face was clear in my mind’s eye, making it obvious that she shared his nose and chin. The same little lines appeared between her eyebrows when they came together in confusion or frustration.
“I promise I will see you in the morning,” I whispered, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I’ll come and pick you up myself just as soon as the door is fixed, and we’ll spend the whole day together. So long as I know you’re safe in bed, I’ll be just fine.”
“Come on, sweetie.” Rhiannon squeezed Hannah’s shoulder. “I’ll stay over too. We’ll make pancakes in the morning.”
What a time for jealousy to stir in my gut. I should have been the one making pancakes with my daughter in the morning. Somebody had to be here, though, and the property manager had a tendency to go MIA on the weekends. I couldn’t trust anybody but myself.
“I’ll see you in the morning. I promise.” I kissed her cheeks again and forced a smile along with false warmth and enthusiasm in my voice. She ran a hand under her nose but begrudgingly put on her shoes and got her backpack from her room.
“I don’t like leaving you here alone,” Rhiannon whispered. “What if he comes back?”
“He’d be stupid to come back tonight, whoever he is.” Besides, I knew something she didn’t know, something Hannah didn’t know. I wasn’t about to take any chances—she was a smart, responsible kid, but plenty of responsible kids had ended up injured or worse by guns kept in the home. Mine was in the safe in my bedroom closet, where it had sat ever since I purchased it. I hated the idea of ever having to use it, but that was why it existed.
Letting her go felt a lot like ripping my heart from my chest. I pushed my way through it, waving at them as they left and walked down the hall. Once they disappeared into the elevator, I released the breath I was holding, slumping against the door frame, whimpering now that I was alone. Knowing how worried Hannah would be called up a real, burning pain in my chest.
I had to pull it together. Considering I didn’t have the first clue about the specifics of the situation, calling the cops felt like a wasted effort. They might even be annoyed with me for wasting their time, not that it was my problem, but I didn’t trust myself to be graceful in the face of rude, ignorant cops. I settled for using the chain lock again, then wedging one of the kitchen chairs under the doorknob.
I wouldn’t get a minute of sleep in my room tonight. Instead of trying, I made a bed on the couch, then headed for the bedroom again to get changed. I took my phone with me, waiting for Rhiannon to let me know they had made it home safe.
By the time a message came through, I was in a pair of pajamas and washing the makeup off my face. I quickly rinsed off and reached for the phone, hoping to talk to Hannah before she went to bed for the second time tonight.
It wasn’t Rhiannon.
My insides went cold when I saw Spencer’s text.
Spencer: I’m outside the building, wondering what else you’ve kept from me. Considering going door-to-door to find you. Unless you want me to piss off your neighbors, tell me your apartment number.
“You stupid fucker,” I whispered. Who was I talking to? Me or him? Because I was the one stupid enough to entertain his questions out on the sidewalk. Then again, what was I supposed to do? Scream for help like he was harassing me? The thought had passed through my head—not something I was proud of. I was in the middle of panicking at the time.
At least Hannah was gone, leaving no chance of an unplanned meeting. I’d never intended for him to know about her, but now he threatened to piss off my whole building in an effort to learn more. There was part of me that wanted to call his bluff and invite him to go ahead. We would see how far he got until he gave up.
On the other hand, now that he knew, that left the door wide open for me to say the things I had held back all this time. He had the nerve to act like I robbed him of the chance to be with his daughter.
With trembling hands, I typed 502 and sent the message before talking myself out of it. He must have missed Hannah leaving, or else I would’ve gotten a text from Rhiannon to warn me. No way would he have done the smart thing and stayed in the shadows, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind he would’ve recognized his child on sight. If only she didn’t look so damn much like him.
I didn’t have to wait long, and he was knocking on the door, making me wish I hadn’t gone to that damn event for Alexander Landry. Since there was no turning back time, I took a few deep breaths to steady myself and moved the chair, unhooking the chain.
The way he pushed into the living room, anyone would think he was coming in to wage war. “Where is she?” he growled out, his head swinging back and forth.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” I closed the door and leaned against it, shaking my head at his theatrics. It was pretty pitiful. “For one thing, who do you think you are? This is my home. You don’t get to barge in here and make demands.”
“You lied to me.” His teeth were clenched so tight I could barely make out a word he said. “You kept her from me.”
“Kept her from you? Is that the story you’re going with? You are truly deluded.” Hell, maybe I should’ve thanked the creep who tried to break in here. The timing couldn’t have been better. If it hadn’t been for him, I would have fucked this asshole. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that was where we were headed before the phone rang. I would’ve had even more regret than I already did.
“What does that mean? What, you think I’m a liar like you?” His cold laughter slithered up my spine like a snake while we stared daggers at each other. “Not everybody is as good as you at only telling part of the story, Rowan.”
“Enough of the bullshit, enough of the posturing. We both know you don’t mean a word of it.”
“What the hell are you talking about? What, do you think I’m pretending?” He laughed again, turning away, pacing to the window and back like a caged animal. “Right now, I wouldn’t throw you a lifeline if you were drowning.”
That was uncalled for, and it only added fuel to my burning rage. “You can leave my apartment if that’s how you feel. Nobody talks to me that way, especially not somebody who has got to be a goddamn sociopath. How can you stand there and make me the bad guy in all of this?”
“Rowan! You had my baby, and you never told me you were pregnant!” He threw his arms into the air, his voice echoing when he raised it to the threshold of a shout. “You kept her a secret from me for more than ten years. I’m supposed to feel generous right now?” There was no time to process this before he whirled on me again, pointing a finger. “But no…” he continued, ignoring the way my mouth fell open, “… it’s worse than that. You had every opportunity to tell me the past few days that I had a daughter in the world somewhere. How can you look me in the eye, knowing that, and still refuse to tell me about her? Doesn’t she deserve to know who her father is?”
Something was wrong. Now that it was just the two of us in an otherwise quiet apartment, and Iknew nobody was coming over here to attack my baby, I could focus on not only what he said but how he sounded.
How he looked.
He wasn’t acting.
I had seen more than enough of it, good and bad, over the years to tell the difference. He was hurting. I had hurt him.
Somehow, that was the worst of all he had—the nerve to turn himself into a victim. Like he had been abandoned. “You know what?” I whispered, shaking with rage that was just beginning to simmer below the surface. “Maybe if you hadn’t taken the coward’s way out after the fucking crash that upended my whole goddamn life, you would’ve known about her.”
“Wait—”
Yeah, fuck that. I was on a roll. “Maybe if I felt like I could trust you not to run away like a bitch the way you did, you might have watched our daughter grow up. And maybe if you didn’t have me sign a contract stating I would never, under any circumstances, contact you ever again, I would have reached out. Do you think I wanted this? It’s only by the generosity of my parents and my sister that I was able to make anything out of my life after you destroyed it. They’re the reason Hannah has anything close to a semblance of normalcy. I could never have done it by myself, even with the damn money you threw at me.”
By the time I got it all out, my chest was heaving, like I had just gone five rounds with the heavyweight champ. There was a feeling of pride that went along with it. Finally, I told him everything he needed to hear, and it felt so much sweeter than I had ever imagined because I hadn’t imagined him having the nerve to act like he was hurt by the consequences of a choice he made.
I waited for him to react, expecting a firestorm of accusations and empty self-defense. When all I got was open-mouthed silence, I groaned. “Say something, at least. For once, take responsibility for your choices.”
“Rowan…” He sounded for all the world like a man who had woken up from a long nap and didn’t know what day it was or whether it was morning or night. A fuzzy sort of confusion was heavy in his voice, in the way he looked at me. “Exactly what did the contract say? Because I never read it.”
“Oh, give me a break,” I growled out, driving my heel against the door behind me with a grunt. “Like he wouldn’t tell you.”
“Who?”
“That ghoul. The lawyer.” The thought of him made me shudder the way I would if a snake slithered over my foot.
“Jarvis?” he asked.
“Whatever. He didn’t bother telling me his name. I told him I was pregnant… they did a test as soon as they admitted me and broke the news as soon as I was conscious. He showed up not long after that, totally out of nowhere, holding a document in front of me, telling me I was never allowed to talk about the accident.”
Suddenly, he was very interested in the floor, staring at it as he muttered, “So I heard from my father, but only after the fact. I only knew about you agreeing not to go public with the accident. I swear.”
“And I’m sure you and your dad high-fived before you both moved on. Because to people like you, all it takes is a payoff. Throw enough money at a problem, and you can sit back and relax, right?”
He searched my face, almost frantic. “But you told him? You told him you were going to have a baby?”
“The whole part where I was supposed to forget you existed made me figure I should say something. How was I supposed to never contact you when I was going to have your child?”
“What did he say?” I rolled my eyes, then flinched when he barked out, “Tell me! What did he say when you told him?”
“Let me see.” I pretended to probe my memory like there was a chance of ever forgetting the tall, thin man’s cruel words. Lowering my voice until it was almost as deep as the lawyer’s, I said, “Let’s not pretend girls in this town don’t know how to solve an inconvenient problem.” And even now, the memory of his cold, unaffected reaction chilled me. It just didn’t matter to him, like he wasn’t human.
“Rowan.” I watched, wary, as he touched a hand to his chest and swayed a little before getting a hold of himself. “Fuck me, Rowan. I had no idea.”
“I…” The fact that the same word kept coming up made me ashamed of myself, tightening my throat until I pushed through. “I assumed you assumed I didn’t go through with the pregnancy.”
His head swung back and forth, the motion full of distraught. “I didn’t know. I also had no idea this whole thing hinged upon you never seeing me again. I’m fucking serious,” he grunted out when all I did was snort, derisive. “I didn’t know. All this time…”
He sank onto the sofa, bending forward with his elbows on his knees and lowering his head into his hands. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch. If he were in front of me now, I would. I thought… it was because you hated me for what I did. I thought you blamed me. You had every right to. I didn’t know they forced your hand. I swear to God, I didn’t.”
I didn’t want to believe him. It would’ve meant having believed so much that wasn’t true all this time. I didn’t want to think I had been wrong. But was it better to think he had really sat back, fully aware that he was cutting me out of his life forever? That he didn’t care about the pregnancy?
I crept closer to him, an inch at a time. What was more surprising? That I wanted to comfort him, or how intense that desire was? Of all people, he was the last who deserved to be comforted, but was that true? Or was it only a story I had told myself?
By the time I stood in front of him, compassion took the place of suspicion. I reached out, tentative, and placed a hand on the back of his lowered head. He was quick to clasp my hand, closing his fingers around it and lifting his gaze. “I didn’t know,” he murmured. “All this time, I didn’t have the first idea. I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you. For both of you. You have to believe me.”
I understood now how little I’d wanted to believe he could leave me like that. Deep down, I must have harbored a secret hope, or why would relief be washing over me now that he held my hand so tight, his eyes searching mine like he was looking for forgiveness?
“You are so beautiful.” I barely processed what he said before he was on his feet, pulling me close and taking my face in his hands. He was so overwhelming, filling my senses, making my head spin until all I could do was lean against him for support while he lowered his head, touching his lips to mine in the softest kiss that threatened to stop my heart.
It wasn’t soft for long. All at once, it intensified the way it had back at his apartment. I was as defenseless against him now as I was then, as I always was. I never could resist the power he had over me. What he did to my body, lighting me up, making me sizzle, tingle, and feel alive. When was the last time I felt this alive? I twisted his hair around my fingers while our tongues danced and my heart sang. He didn’t mean to desert me. He didn’t know.
Did it change anything?
I wasn’t sure.
The only thing I was certain of was how much I needed him by the time he backed up against the sofa and dropped onto my makeshift bed. I followed him, straddling his lap, arms around his neck as I picked up where we left off and kissing him hard enough to make my lips sting. The touch of his hands up and down my back and over my ass was the sweetest fire, and in no time, I was rocking my hips, grinding against him until he groaned into my mouth.
The sound was an aphrodisiac, not that I needed one. I wanted to hear it again and again all night. I was working toward that when I ran my hands over his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He groaned again, his fingers sinking into my ass cheeks and drawing me in against what was so hard. Demanding. I was already wet, but now my pussy flooded, my clit aching. It had been so long since anybody touched me this way, and nobody had ever touched me the way he did. Even back then, when we were both so young, thinking we had all the answers.
He yanked the shirt free of his waistband and almost tore it off, then ran his hands under my nightshirt. Every touch left me wanting more. I was panting, lost in sensation and desire.
I lifted my arms, and he pulled the shirt over them, barely taking time to toss it aside before his hands took hold of my breasts. “Mmm… yesss,” I moaned out, arching my back to give myself to him—all of me. I wanted him to take all of me, to make me forget any time had passed. To take the fire he had set in my core and share it with me until it consumed us both.
His thumbs worked my nipples, his tongue brushing against them. Back and forth, the sweetest torture. I realized the sharp, animal breathing I heard was coming from me as my hips ground against him furiously, already so close, beyond the point of caring how it looked to lose it like this. Not when I was sure the pain of my swollen clit would kill me if I didn’t come soon.
“If I put a hand in these shorts…” he whispered between licks against my sensitive nipples. “Would you be wet? Would that sweet pussy be all wet and ready for me?”
“Yes!” I gasped, lifting myself off his lap so he could do what he promised. He slid a hand between us, shoving it inside my soft cotton shorts and the thong underneath them.
Fireworks exploded at the slightest touch of his fingertips against my shaved mound. My teeth sank into my lip, barely muffling a scream as a massive orgasm slammed into me all at once. My nails scraped his muscular shoulders, and my body went stiff as the wave broke and I crashed against him, my breath moistening his skin when I buried my face in his neck.
“Shit,” he whispered, his fingers still stroking my lips, teasing me as I trembled and whimpered. Slowly, he worked his way deeper, sliding through the river my slit had become. “More. I need more, baby. Can you come for me again?”
What had only started subsiding began to grow again—it was his voice, the growl running underneath it, his skillful touch. My hunger woke again, and soon, I was running my tongue over his neck and earlobe, moaning into his ear when he drove his fingers inside me.
“That’s right,” I whispered, moving with him, fucking his thick digits. “Make me come again. Make me come for you.” He shuddered, hooking them against my G-spot while using his thumb against my clit until I was sure my sanity was going to shatter. My body jolted like a shock ran through it, so intensely it scared me. I wanted to run away from it, but instead, I held on, gripping him tightandgiving over to the building tension.
This time it built more slowly, expanding in my core, filling me. “Let it go,” he growled out close to my ear, breathing as hard as I was. “Let it go for me.”
I didn’t just let go. I exploded, bliss radiating through my limbs, stars dancing behind my eyelids. It was all-consuming, like nothing I had ever known, leaving me hanging between laughter and joyful tears. I was still coming down from that incredible high when Spencer laid me on my back.
“I’m going to need a taste of this.” His deep, guttural growls sent shivers racing through me, ending at my already quivering pussy which he exposed after yanking down my shorts and thong. But it was the sight of him settling between my thighs that made fresh juices flow from my core. The look in his eyes—he was an animal, hungry. Greedy for me.
And when his tongue touched my slit, and he groaned like a starving man in front of a feast, I could’ve wept for joy. God, how had I forgotten how good he was at this? How eager and determined he was to make me come? There was a difference between a man going down on awoman because he felt he should and one who did it because he wanted to.
And Spencer Collins wanted to.
He paused only long enough to murmur two words. “So sweet…” Then his tongue was on me again, delving deep, parting my folds and sweeping through them, undoing me a little at a time with every lick, groan, and flick against my sensitive clit.
I opened my eyes to look down at him, lost in a fog of pleasure, and found him gazing at me from across the length of my body. Our eyes locked, and the tension ratcheted up until I fell back again, writhing, lost in the magic he was creating with his tongue. “I could do this all night.” He sighed, parting my lips with his fingers to lavish my aching bundle of nerves with quick, light flicks that sent me hurtling over the edge and into oblivion.
How much more of this could I take?
I was ready to find out by the time he stood next to me, taking off his shoes, wasting no time dropping his pants. There was a wet spot on the front of his boxer briefs just beneath the head of his rigid dick. I’d forgotten how big he was, how good he felt inside me. My heart hammered with anticipation and gave me the guts to sit up and brush his hands aside in favor of pulling his shorts down myself.
“Put it in your mouth,” he grunted out, taking his thick shaft in his hand and guiding himself to my waiting mouth. I ran my tongue around his head, and he sucked in a sharp breath while I sampled the salty precum. This was always my favorite—controlling his pleasure, setting the pace, deciding how hard to suck, following his cues.
Right now, they were a little more deliberate. He placed a hand against the back of my head and almost fed himself to me, fucking my mouth until I struggled not to gag. “That’s right. Suck my cock good,” he whispered, moaning softly, sounding like a man in the throes of ecstasy. My hands traveled over his thick thighs, up over his abs, until he pulled back with a reluctant sigh. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up. And I’m not finished with you yet.” The growl running through his words left my skin tingling.
I stretched out again, spreading my legs, my pulse picking up speed again at the way Spencer stared at my wet, pulsing pussy. “Gorgeous,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on it while unrolling a condom over his dick after pulling it from his pants pocket. For a few moments, it was enough for him to watch me run my fingers over my lips, inviting him, getting off on the power I had over him.
But the power soon shifted when he kneeled between my thighs and dragged his head through my wetness. A brief flash of apprehension hit me. He was so much bigger than my memories, but I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax when the pressure at my entrance turned to blistering pleasure once he pushed his way inside me.
Fuck . Every inch of him stretched me in the best way, filled me, and made me claw at his bulging pecs and strong arms as sheer pleasure took over. His handsome face tensed like he was concentrating, savoring the moment, or maybe fighting off the impulse to come then and there. “Goddammit. How are you so tight?” he groaned out, clenching his jaw in determination. “Still pulsing. Trying to milk me. Have you missed my cock that much?”
The moment passed, and then he began to move, driving me a little closer to oblivion with every slow, deep stroke. He took his time, easing us into it. “Gotta go slow,” he whispered, moving an inch at a time, torturing me, torturing both of us. His abs flexed in time with his agonizingly slow strokes, taking me a little further each time he slid in deep, building the tension.
“You feel so good,” I whispered, resisting the impulse to beg him to fuck me hard. Fast. I didn’t want it to end. Not ever.
“So do you. So… fucking… good…” His eyes closed as his teeth gritted, and he groaned from the strain of holding on. “You think you’ve got one more in you? Can you come on my cock?”
I didn’t just think I could. It was inevitable, the tension building with every grunt from him, every moan, the breath that came quicker, shorter.
“Come with me,” I begged, breathless, helpless against what was happening. He nodded slightly, picking up speed until he was pounding into me, almost frantically pumping in and out, losing his rhythm in favor of chasing his high. I followed him, jerking my hips, meeting every stroke until there was nothing for me to do but scream in pure, elated relief.
“Rowan… oh fuck!” I opened my eyes to watch him throw his head back, the tendons standing out on his neck, his skin flushed as he trembled from the force of his release.
And I already knew it wouldn’t be the last time.
Slipping out of me, a shudder ran through me at the loss of him, but I was quickly distracted as I watched him disappear down the hall to the bathroom. Completely sated, I closed my eyes, trying to keep the barrage of questions I had from ruining the moment.
It wasn’t until I felt him slide in next to me that I opened my eyes to meet his—a little hazy, a little unfocused, and I couldn’t stop the small smile spreading on my face when he asked the last thing I expected to hear in a moment like this. “What’s her name?”
Somehow, it was perfect. My heart swelled, and I grinned wide before whispering, “Hannah. Hannah Grace.”
And when he smiled, I came dangerously close to falling for him all over again.