6. PRIMARY
CHLOE
“Who was that?” Bryce was suddenly behind me.
“It was nothing—I was just watching a news clip.” I forced myself to sound casual as I turned off my phone.
His gaze flicked over me. “I’m going to sit by the pool for a while. Come with me.” It was a command, not a question. But I’d one-hundred-bajillion times rather follow Bryce’s orders than his father’s.
It didn’t seem I had much of a choice about that.
I couldn’t process what the old man had said to me—that he’d put my father and Lydia on his payroll, that he’d take Noah away from me, that if I said anything to Bryce, I would be very sorry .
I stared at my husband’s back as I followed him outside.
I yearned to tell him about the position I was in, but I was too afraid. Gene Windsor was scary as shit.
At least I was with Bryce. At least I could stay with him…for now.
He sank down onto one of the couches facing the pool and the ocean. I sat beside him, close but not too close.
He stared out at the water. “I brought you down here so that we could be alone. I thought I could talk some sense into you.”
“Okay…”
“But you seem a million miles away, Chloe. You’re not yourself. And you haven’t been.”
I blew out a deep breath. Now that I knew I could go back to him—now that I knew it was safe for Noah—I could let my guard down, at least a little.
“It’s true, haven’t been myself,” I admitted. “I’m embarrassed about what happened and stressed about you taking over for your father. I want to be there for you, but I feel like I messed up too bad.”
He glanced at me. “You want to be there for me?”
My shoulders sagged. “Of course I do.”
“Well… That’s a start.”
We sat silently for a moment, but at least it wasn’t as awful.
“I guess I shouldn’t have threatened to tape your mouth shut.” Bryce still didn’t sound sorry. “And I shouldn’t have forced you onto the plane like that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” I agreed.
The silence stretched out between us again. He was right next to me, but it felt like we were a million miles apart. Was it only a week ago that he’d held me in his arms, and I’d felt like he was my whole world? I didn’t know how to find my way back to him, to us.
He waited, and when I didn’t say anything further, he sighed. “This is awkward as fuck. There’s only one thing to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Get your ass in the bedroom, Chloe.”
“What?”
“Or we can take care of business right here.” He shrugged. “The guards won’t look in our direction—I’ll make damn sure of that.”
I started to object, but he reached over and clamped an enormous hand over my mouth. “I’m not actually sorry about the tape—I wish I had some right now. Let’s go, Mrs. Windsor. There’s only one way to get things back to normal.”
With that, he hoisted me up. Wrapping his free arm around me and pressing me against him, he dragged me down the hall. Bryce had an erection brewing, and he blatantly pressed it against me. I fought him, and he laughed, a dark sound. He got harder as I struggled, throbbing against me.
“Fight me, Chloe—that’s it. That’ll make this even hotter.”
He pressed his cock against me, and I yelled obscenities into the palm of his hand. How dare he?
“Keep it up, babe.” He thrust his hips, erection grinding against me.
Fuck. With his hand clamped over my mouth, his other bulging forearm gripping my midsection, and his dick pressed against my ass—I was getting wet. Undeniably, inconveniently wet. I wouldn’t be able to hide it from him once he took my clothes off…
Please God, let him get inside me quick. I would never admit it, but Bryce was right: I needed him inside me. I yearned for him to claim me, to make me his, to take me back—to make me his wife again. It had only been a few days, but it felt like forever.
And I’d been keeping secrets from him, which made me feel separate. It made me feel alone when all I wanted to do was be one with him.
Gene’s slimy message was on the periphery of my thoughts—but God bless Bryce, he made me forget.
He shoved me onto the bed and removed his hand from my mouth.
Then he put his full, luscious lips to mine, and the rest of the world fell away.
His tongue darted inside, seeking mine. They connected, lashing each other, and I moaned.
“That’s right.” He sounded so smug, but I didn’t care; I was too busy ripping off his clothes.
I pulled the T-shirt over his head and sighed in relief as I ran my hands down his lightly tanned, smooth skin.
I’d been craving this, craving him. His muscles rippled beneath my fingers.
Touching his bare skin felt like coming home.
He was on top of me on the bed, all over me—his hands in my hair, taking off my tank, somehow getting the leggings off, the head of his cock already brushing against my wet slit.
“You’re already so wet for me.” Bryce radiated smug energy as he notched his cock inside me, then withdrew.
“So?” I asked archly. “What’re you going to do about it?” I spread my legs and grabbed his ass, positioning him at my entrance.
Bryce laughed, a low, rumbling sound that I felt inside me.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I said hoarsely. “I need you.”
“Now you need me.” He inched inside and then pulled out again, torturing me. “You didn’t seem to want me very much the other night when you ran out.”
“Bryce, please…” I writhed beneath him. “I’m sorry. I was embarrassed. I didn’t know what to do.” I grabbed his ass again, possessively pulling him back.
“Leaving wasn’t the right answer.” The joking tone dropped from his voice.
“I said I was sorry,” I panted. “Please, Bryce—I’ll do anything.”
He pulsed his cock inside me, then withdrew. “Don’t ever leave me again.”
“I won’t. I promise.” My eyes pricked with tears. I had no idea if I had any right to promise that.
“I’ve been out of my goddamned mind the past couple of days.” He entered me again, deeper, and then pulled out.
“I’m sorry.” I thrashed beneath him. I would say anything, promise anything—and of course, I wanted it to be true. “Just please , take me, I’ve missed you so much—”
He clamped his mouth over mine and thrust his tip inside me, once, twice, three times. Fuck! I was so wet for him, so ready. I squeezed his ass cheeks, and he knew exactly what to do.
He entered me all the way, and we both cried out.
Bryce thrust over and over again. Driving, deep, unforgiving.
I grabbed his hips, his ass, scratched his back, anything to keep him close to me, to feel his power as he claimed me.
I was impatient, wanting to feel all of him, desperate for him to overtake me.
Bryce’s body listened to mine, his urgent, deep strokes taking me to the edge almost immediately.
He leaned up, all glorious muscle, a Greek God of a man. I greedily drank in the sight of him—my husband, my love, my everything.
He put his palm on top of my sex and continued to fuck me hard.
“Come in me,” I begged. I was on the edge, and I wanted him there with me.
His strokes got deeper, even more urgent.
“Chloe!” He filled me as my body clenched around him, and I shattered, seeing stars.
Nothing compared to this, to the feeling of us coming together, being one, his body part of mine, part of me.
I clung to him as our orgasms subsided, and we held each other, hearts pounding, as we came back to earth.
I brought my mouth against his ear. “I love you.” What was the point of lying anymore?
“I love you, too.” Bryce collapsed beside me and pulled me onto his massive chest.
We fell asleep like that and, for a precious few hours, I forgot about everything…except him.