Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
The shipyard’s familiar scents of oil and metal combined with the sharp aroma of coffee, surround me as I guide Lio up the stairs to my old office. Hunter called me in to lend a hand with some paperwork, a task I’m more than familiar with.
He stands from the desk when I open the door without knocking out of habit. “Hey, sorry. We’re here,” I greet while Lio runs over to Hunter, giving him a hug as if he hasn’t seen him in days, although it hasn’t been more than a couple of hours.
“Sorry to have you come in for this,” Hunter apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just can’t seem to get the hang of it.”
“Don’t worry,” I reassure him with a half-smile. “You don’t know how many times I had Dad on the phone when I first started. I can swing by every couple of weeks to help out if you need me to.”
“That would help a lot. Thank you.” Hunter gives a grateful smile, and Lio’s eyes light up as he looks down at him. “And how about I take you for ice cream while daddy’s busy, huh? What do you say, bud?”
“Yes,” Lio exclaims, excitement evident.
“It’s morning, Hunter,” I protest, but they’re already heading out.
Fan-fucking-tastic. Just as I thought I was doing well on establishing some boundaries.
They leave, and I sit at my old desk, trying to achieve the right headspace for these calculations, but it’s hard.
Somehow, my mind always wanders back to Sloan.
She told me she needed a break from our search for help for Saylor, and I understand it.
It’s super frustrating, and I guess if I could see Saylor’s face after every new disappointment, I would need a break too.
She told me she was fine, but I knew better. It’s okay if she needs some space to breathe, but I’m so close to saying fuck it, looking for her to make sure she didn’t run after all.
Feeling the need for a caffeine kick, I head down the stairs toward the coffee machine. Stephanie is lingering there, watching me approach as if she has waited for this to happen, for us to meet here.
Oh, hell no.
“Good morning, Mr. Jones.” She smiles, stepping closer.
“Morning,” I say curtly while grabbing a mug and setting it under the machine.
Her smile is too knowing, too filled with unspoken suggestions. “I missed you, Mr. Jones,” she purrs, leaning in closer than necessary when I push the button, and the machine splutters out hot coffee.
I have to tell Hunter to buy a new coffee machine. Good coffee is crucial for happy workers.
“Work isn’t half as fun since you’re not around,” Stephanie says with an overemphasized frown, pushing me to talk to her as I grab my mug.
I try to sidestep her, keeping my voice neutral. “I’m sure Hunter is a much nicer boss than I ever was.”
But she’s persistent, clutching my sweater and pulling me closer. “I like it rough,” she whispers, her breath hot against my ear while she presses her body to my front.
This woman needs to fucking go.
But before I can even react, there’s a gasp at the door. I turn, my heart sinking as I see Sloan. Her eyes are wide, hurt, and her notebook and a muffin she’s holding clatter to the floor.
“I… sorry, I wanted… Hunt-I… I’ll go,” Sloan stammers, her voice trembling, then she turns and flees.
“Back the fuck up,” I growl out at Stephanie, who looks surprised.
Cursing under my breath, I quickly disentangle myself from her, setting down my mug with a clatter, my mind racing.
This can’t be happening. Not when things were finally starting to look up.
Running toward the door, I snatch up Sloan’s notebook on the way. Then, bolting out the door, I glimpse her retreating figure.
“Why does this girl always have to run?” I grumble, chasing after her. I’m glad I am wearing sneakers, jeans, and a sweater today. This little chase would suck in a suit and dress shoes.
She’s fast, but desperation lends me speed. My heart pounds in my chest, not just from the physical exertion but also from the fear of losing her again. Just before reaching the house, I finally catch up, grabbing her waist. I hoist her over my shoulder despite her protests.
“Let me down, North,” she hisses between pants, her voice muffled against my back.
“If you don’t want me to catch you, you’ll have to run faster,” I retort, half-joking, half-serious. My breath comes in short bursts. I’m physically tired, but more than that, I’m emotionally drained.
I’m not going to lose her again. I didn’t fucking do anything this time.
I open the door to the house when she tries again. “Put me down. This is ridiculous!” Closing the door behind us, I set her notebook next to the coat rack before carrying her up the stairs. “I’m not a sack of potatoes,” she exclaims, slapping my back.
God, I love her fire.
In my room, I set her down on the edge of the bed.
Her eyes are downcast, a mix of hurt and anger written all over her face.
I lift her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze.
“You ran from me,” I say softly, my heart aching at the thought.
“We need to fix this, Blue. You can’t keep running away.
I chase Lio enough as it is. At thirty-five, I’m getting too old for this.
” She remains silent, so I lean in, brushing her lips with a soft peck, drawing a frown from her.
“Stephanie threw herself at me. I did not encourage that in the slightest. I want you, Sloan, you. Nobody else. I want you so bad, I’m willing to share you with my brothers.
I don’t know what else I can do to make you believe me because you already have all I am.
I’m yours, Blue, in every way. Skin and bones, heart and soul.
” Her eyes fill with tears, and she bites her bottom lip, which I gently free with my thumb. “Talk to me, baby,” I coax softly.
“You want me? Even with all my craziness? You could have someone like her, beautiful and normal,” she whispers, a single tear tracing down her cheek. I brush it away with my thumb.
So it’s more about her insecurities than what she thinks she just saw.
I can work with that.
Crouching in front of her to meet her eyes, I confess, “Lately, I’ve pictured myself being happy. I’ve pictured how it would look, not being angry all the time anymore, not only surviving but living. And every time I’ve pictured myself happy, it’s with you.”
Her bottom lip quivers, just like Lio’s before he cries. I suppress a smile, realizing I have two precious crybabies, and I love them to pieces.
“I choose you, no matter what,” I declare, kissing her softly on her trembling lip. She wraps her arms around my neck, deepening the kiss and filling it with all the unspoken emotions swirling between us. Her arms tighten, pulling me closer as if trying to merge us.
Breaking the kiss, I rest my forehead against hers, both of us catching our breath. “Blue,” I whisper, my voice laden with emotion. “I mean every word. You’re not just a part of my life. You’re the fucking essence of it. I don’t want a day without you.”
“I forgive you, because I don’t want a day without you either,” she whispers, and it feels like the weight of all the guilt and sorrow lifts from my shoulders like the breath leaving her beautiful lips.
I want to take it slow with her, to make sure I don’t push her like I did last time, at least not now, not until she’s secure in this, sure about me. But she’s the one pulling me closer again while scooting up the bed. She lays down and pulls me on top of her, my lips to hers.
I’ve been dreaming about this. I’ve thought about her every night since I first had a taste.
The way she tasted on my fingers. How soft her skin is on my rough hands.
I fantasized about having her in my bed, in every fucking position but mostly having her begging for my cock on her knees.
The sounds she would make if I’d ever got the chance again to pleasure her.
Every second I spend in her wake, my feelings for her grow stronger and stronger. I’ve never felt like this with anyone else. That’s why I don’t want to screw it up. I need nothing more than to make her feel comfortable and safe with me.
I kiss down her throat while she gasps softly, my hands wandering under her sweatshirt. But then she sits up, making me lean back when she pulls the sweater over her head and lets it fall to the floor.
She’s wearing one of our gold necklaces, and I reach out to turn it around, a gasp leaving my lips when I read Saylor’s name in the back.
“How? Where?” I start asking like an idiot, shocked out of my lusty haze.
“He told me where to find it. I’m just keeping it safe for him,” she answers in a whisper.
“So, not lost to the ocean?” I ask the obvious.
“Lost in the maintenance hatch of a boat after a poker game.” She smiles, and I nod.
That sounds like Saylor.
I want to dig deeper, to ask more questions, but she opens the clasp of her bra, pulling it off and throwing it to the floor with her sweater.
My gaze zeroes in on her perfect tits, her nipples already peaked, and my head goes blank.
Fuck.
My restraint bids fucking farewell.
Like a starved man, I almost jump her, pushing her back down on the bed so I can suck and lick on her nipple, her other tit firm in my grip.
“North,” she breathes out my name, arching her back and pushing herself into my face, making me even harder than I already was.
I need her.
I bite her nipple, she bucks against me again, and my hand wanders from her tit to the waistband of her jeans while my mouth places hot, open-mouthed kisses up her chest and throat until I can whisper in her ear. “Tell me no.”
Her saying those two letters is the only thing that would keep me from pulling off these jeans and burying my face in her cunt. The world could burn around us, and I would happily die with her taste on my tongue.
“Please,” she moans, and I can’t keep my hands from unbuckling her jeans.
“Please, what? Use your words, baby.” I may sound in control, but I’m five seconds from losing it.
“Please, take me, North,” she whispers, and it’s all I need.