Chapter 57 Fallon
FALLON
{Days later}
“‘She stood by the cliffs, listening to the waves furiously crash against the rocks below. It was as if the ocean felt her pain, raging against the cruel machinations of fate,'" I read, my voice pitched low to mirror the somber passage.
The comforting weight of Lucy sitting across my lap was a welcome distraction.
Her head lay on one pillowed armrest; her legs were thrown over the other.
Her supple backside was cradled between my thighs as we shared the oversized chair in her bedroom.
I balanced the book carefully against her stomach, Lucy assuring me it didn’t hurt the scar there.
It was late evening, the only light coming from the floor lamp. It cast a haze over everything, including Lucy, somehow shifting her milky skin to a summer-kissed gold.
I continued reading, letting my voice rise and fall with the rhythm of the prose.
These moments together before bed had become a balm for my soul.
No matter how exhausting tour prep could be on any given day, reading with her revitalized me.
The others had their own ways of connecting with Lucy, but this was ours.
It was private, and I protected my time with her.
"Stepping closer to that perilous edge, she wondered if the frothy water below could absolve her sins.
She wondered if it would carry her away from her worries.
Mostly, she wondered if he would miss her when she was gone,'" I continued, acutely aware of Lucy’s every movement.
She was lifting strands of her hair now, holding them up to the light, shifting them to make the silver catch fire.
I opened my mouth to read the next lines, but the words wouldn’t come out.
It was so easy to lose myself when I was this close to her.
My body tingled, basking in the warmth of her body pressed against mine.
My eyes could stare forever at the delicate curve of her neck where it disappeared into the collar of her oversized sweater.
Every part of her was more fascinating than designing stunts, devouring books, or exploring the body of a nameless woman in a smoky club.
Her lips, which seemed almost lavender-hued sometimes, parted ever-so-slightly. I wanted to kiss her so badly. Would she let me? Would she want that? Would the guys kill me?
With deliberate focus, I returned to the page. We’d decided as a pack that Lucy should make the first real move. Controlling ourselves around her was the toughest thing we’d ever done. Yet, my resolve wavered in these quiet, peaceful moments.
"'It would be so easy to fall and leave every painful memory behind in her wake, but she turned, beginning the journey back home. Twilight approached. Down the hill, candles were coming to life inside thatch-roof buildings, giving the effect of landbound stars.’” My voice carried easily, rising and falling, filling the space between floor and ceiling.
When I’d chosen this book, I’d not given the content much thought. I’d read it many times, but now I was reading it with Lucy, putting myself in her shoes, wondering if she would hear something different in the words.
“‘When Diana stood outside her Uncle’s home, she felt as if she’d never left Morrow Head. Walking through this door was no different than plummeting into the sea, for both afforded her only coldness and suffering.”
I kept reading until I noticed a subtle change in the rhythm of Lucy's breathing. Glancing down, I confirmed she’d fallen asleep. The rise and fall of her chest had slowed, becoming deeper and more even. Her body had grown heavier against mine, relaxing completely.
Lowering the book, the last line of chapter eleven faded away, “‘Love has long abandoned me. What good are feelings? What good are promises? They are both as inconstant as morning dew, evaporating the second there is heat.’”
I gazed at my stunning Omega, the questions from the passage ringing in my mind.
What good are feelings?
What good are promises?
My entire life, I’d felt little love and endured too many broken promises. My pack brothers were the only people I relied on, with me to whatever bitter end awaited.
Now, she was here.
Lucy's eyes were closed, snowy lashes fanning against the tops of her cheeks. One of her hands still loosely held a bundle of hair. She was an angel when she slept, her expression unburdened by all the years of sickness and sadness. She stretched, and I tried not to move a muscle, worried I’d wake her.
Her Omega perfume intensified as she rolled onto her side, pulling her legs against my chest. Her hands moved to slip beneath her face, supporting her head.
This position couldn’t be comfortable. I took the book, which had fallen closed and wedged between us, and set it on the narrow side table.
Then I slipped my arms beneath her, lifting her up as I stood.
My senses, already heightened by her proximity, were nearly overwhelmed as she pressed into my body.
The sweet fragrance that clung to her skin hit me like summer in the dead of winter.
Everything cold. Everything frozen. Yet here was the sunshine, the strawberries in a field, the cubes of ice dropped into fresh lemonade.
I wondered if her scent was stronger in sleep, because she felt completely safe.
My inner Alpha cried out, stretching towards her, wanting her with an almost unstoppable force.
I didn’t know how long I could stay strong, how long I could wait for her to move us to that next, oh-so-wonderful place.
I carried her over to her bed, moving with deliberate care. The house was quiet, the others either out or sequestered in their own spaces. This moment belonged to us alone—me carrying Lucy, her breath warm against my neck, her Omega scent making my head swim.
Managing to support her with one arm, I turned down the comforter and sheets with the other. The sight of her bed ready for sleep sent a rush of heat through my body that I ruthlessly suppressed.
With utmost gentleness, I laid her down, watching as she instinctively curled onto her side. She made a small sound. Not quite a word, but a sigh of contentment that tightened my chest. I pulled the covers over her, tucking them around her shoulders.
And then I leaned down.
I couldn’t stop myself.
From planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.
When I pulled away, my lips were incredibly warm. I wanted more.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, unable to leave just yet, though I should.
My heart thundered, the need for her shocking my system.
It wasn't merely physical desire, though that was certainly present. It was deeper, more complex. It was the startling recognition of how perfectly she completed me, filling in spaces I hadn’t known were empty.
I reached out, pushing a phantom strand of hair from her face as an excuse to touch her. Her skin was like silk beneath my fingertips. Lucy, still sound asleep, reached up and wrapped her hand around mine. I stiffened, hating I’d disturbed her, then I relaxed.
"How did we get so damn lucky?" I whispered, the question directed not at Lucy but at the universe. “We don’t deserve you. We proved that repeatedly.”
We were broken, damaged, and damned. We carried so many scars we barely had unmarked skin left.
We’d built DemonX from nothing, creating a brotherhood forged in shared trauma and ambition.
We clawed at fame, money, and respect. None of that had ever made me feel whole.
I knew, without asking, it was the same for the other guys.
When I went to gently pull my hand from hers and stand, Lucy tightened her hold.
“Don’t leave,” she murmured, not opening her eyes.
Fuck! The things those two words did to me.
“Never,” I said fiercely.
She tugged gently. “Lay down.”
Was she sleeping talking? Did she really want me to lay beside her?
“Fallon,” she said my name like a prayer, and it completely undid me.
I tried to pull away my hand, but Lucy locked her fingers down tighter. That made me smile, so damn glad that she wanted me to be here.
“Lucy, love, I can’t climb onto the bed without letting go, just for a moment.”
Her brow scrunched, eyes remaining shut. Then she reluctantly let go of my hand.
I moved to the foot of the bed, climbing up and crawling carefully. I stretched out on my side behind her, my body above the covers, her body snuggled beneath. That barrier was important. An Alpha only had so much control.
Should I wrap my arm around her?
Before I could decide, Lucy’s small hand appeared, fingers wiggling in expectation. I curled my arm around her, our hands meeting once again, weaving together like they’d never been apart.
“Is this okay?” I didn’t rest the full weight of my arm against her. It would be hell, but I’d stay awake to make sure I kept her comfortable. I didn’t want to fall asleep and crush her with my stupid muscles.
“Mmmm-hmmm,” came her wordless response.
I froze when she began to shift against me.
Each movement Lucy made sent lightning bolts to my manhood.
When her lower body pressed back, the curve of her ass fitting perfectly against me, I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth protested.
My blood heated, rushing south with such force I grew dizzy.
My cock hardened instantly, painfully trapped against the unyielding denim, throbbing with hunger I couldn’t satisfy.
Thank fuck I didn’t get under the damn covers.
By the time Lucy’s body stilled, I was a man gone crazy.
I tried to calm myself, breathing in and out slowly, while wondering if my cock was going to stay rock hard all night or give up. I desperately needed to reach down and adjust, but my hand was still married to Lucy’s, and I wasn’t willing to let go.
When my heartbeat finally slowed, no longer feeling like a damn racehorse in my chest, I let myself relax a little against Lucy.
“You’ve no idea what you do to me,” I whispered, thinking she was asleep.
Only she wasn’t.
“What do I do to you?” Her voice was so quiet I barely caught the question.
“Everything,” I murmured, unable to say more around the lump in my throat. Did she really not know the effect she had on me? No, she had to. There was no way her Omega nature didn’t feel it—the magnetic pull, the mount heat, the feeling of completion.
She went quiet again.
Soft breathing pulsing through the air, the loudest most important sound I’d ever heard.
Asleep?
Again, she fooled me.
“Tell me a story.” Lucy pulled her hand away and turned in my arms, rolling over to face me. Her lashes fluttered but then settled again. Her face was slack, and if she hadn’t just spoken and moved, I wouldn’t believe she was awake.
“What kind of story?” I moved slowly, pushing my left arm beneath her neck so her head would have more support, and then resting my right arm along the length of her side, hand cupping the curve of her hip.
“One about you.” She pressed her face against my chest, cheek against my bicep.
“Okay,” I whispered, racking my brain until a memory came to the forefront of my mind, one I’d almost forgotten. “Once upon a time, on my birthday, Nitro and Asher robbed a library.”
A drowsy smile tugged at Lucy’s lips. “A library,” she mumbled, “But everything’s free?”
“Exactly,” I agreed, lifting my hand from her hip and pushing it into her hair. I began to massage slowly, making Lucy moan with pleasure. “But nobody expects some punk kid in a leather jacket to walk out with a copy of The Odyssey under his shirt.”
She laughed softly, the sound spurring me onward.
I launched into the ridiculous story, continuing it even after Lucy actually fell asleep.