Chapter Fifteen
Eddie
The door shuts behind them, leaving me alone with her. Only her. The soft click of the door echoes through the office and all I can focus on is the way she stands there, looking at me with those hazel eyes that have tormented me for years.
I don’t move at first. My head bows instinctively, my gaze fixed on the desk as if it could ground me. I didn’t mean to say what I did, but that’s what she does to me, always getting me to say or do things I don’t plan to. My grip on the edge of the desk tightens, my knuckles turning white.
She steps closer, close enough to touch. Her face softens, as though she understands everything I’m feeling, and it’s taking everything in me not to lose control.
“Lawliss,” I say, my voice low, rough, and restrained. She shakes her head and closes her eyes as if to steady herself When she opens her eyes, she licks her lips and then whispers, “I’m sorry,” her voice soft and tentative. “I didn’t know you were carrying all that.” How was she supposed to when I didn’t tell her? Slowly, I lift my head and meet her gaze, my eyes locking onto hers.
“There’s a lot you don’t know, Lawliss.”
She takes a step forward, hesitant but steady. It’s so her. She is always fearless when it matters, even if she doesn’t know the full weight of what she’s walking into. She stops when she’s right in front of me, having crossed to my side. She bends to my eye level, her hands finding my face, cupping my cheeks with a gentleness that threatens to undo me. There’s no judgment there, only understanding.
“Then tell me,” she says, her voice stronger now.
God help me; she has no idea what she’s asking. I’ve spent my life trying to plan every move, always looking for the next course of action. After my parents died in that accident, I thought I could piece my life back together. But then I found out that their death wasn’t an accident and that it was planned and staged to look like something ordinary by people we knew and trusted all because of their wealth, and my world shattered. The realization that people pretended to love and care for me and didn’t care for me broke me more than I care to admit.
The truth sucked. To think the kindness and concern my uncle and those people showed me all those years were never real was a big blow.
Then there was her. Lawliss. Her family. They gave me a reason to believe in something again. They made me feel like I could still find pieces of myself that weren’t broken. But I couldn’t hold onto that, not when I realized how dangerous it would be for them. When I saw that the people who killed my parents wouldn’t hesitate to come after me and anyone close to me, it became clear what I had to do. I had to leave. I couldn’t stay and risk their lives. Not hers. Not her family’s.
Every day since then, I’ve carried the weight of that decision. Every year, I’ve lived in silence, loving her in the shadows, praying she would be happy without me. But I couldn’t let her go. I couldn’t even try. That’s why I’ve carried those marriage documents everywhere. It sounds ridiculous, but they were my hope. A reminder of what I wanted us to be, even when it felt impossible.
Looking into her eyes now, I find my control is slipping. I can feel it unraveling with every second she’s crouched down to my eye level. With every moment she looks at me like she understands everything I haven’t even said. If anyone could see me for what I am and still stay, it’s her. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s already mine. And this time, I won’t let her pull away.
She searches my face, waiting, but I can’t form the words. How do I explain what I’ve carried all these years and make her understand me without losing her in the process?
Instead, my body moves on instinct. I pull her to stand, my movements firm but unsteady, and I rise with her. In one motion, I push her back against the wall, my hands gripping her arms before I can stop myself. The feel of her skin under my hands sends a jolt through me—familiar, electric, mine.
“You,” I say, my voice rough. “This is what’s driving me insane. You. You make me weak, Lynx.”
She doesn’t flinch, nor does she pull away. Her hazel eyes search mine, and I see something like understanding and maybe even longing flicker.
She opens her mouth to speak and then, before she can speak, my mouth crashes onto hers. Her body stiffens against mine for a heartbeat, and then she melts into me, her hands clinging to my shirt, pulling me closer. She wraps her arms around my neck, opening up and deepening the kiss. She’s fire and chaos and everything I can’t resist. Our breaths mingle and align, raw and desperate, a culmination of days of holding back.
We kiss like we’re on the edge of something we can’t name. Like this is our first chance and our last. I deepen the kiss, pouring into it all the things I don’t have the words to say. It’s raw and consuming, a silent confession of how much I want her and of how much she’s always meant to me. We kiss until the need for air becomes too much, forcing us to break apart.
When I pull back, my forehead rests against hers as I try to steady the storm inside me.
“I don’t think I can stay away from you,” I admit, the words ripped from me before I could stop them. Her voice trembles when she speaks, but her eyes are steady, unflinching.
“Who’s asking you to?” I freeze, my chest tightening as her words sink in. She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.
“You are,” I murmur, my voice quieter now but no less intense. I caress her cheeks. “If I claim you again, it’s forever, Lawliss. Not a night, not a fling—forever. There’s no walking away this time.”
Her breath catches, and for a moment, she’s silent. Then, in a voice so soft it barely reaches me, she whispers, “I can’t love you. Eddie. Not now. Not when I don’t even love myself.”
The words hit like a punch, but I don’t let her go. My hands tighten on her arms—not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor her to me. I tuck a strand of her falling hair and say, “Then let me do it,” my voice low and fierce.
“I’ll love you enough for the both of us. I’ve been doing it for years, Lynx. Years. And being near you now—it’s impossible to stop.”
She blinks, her lips parting, but no sound comes.
“You love me?” Shit, I said that out loud. I guess there’s no going back now. I nod.
“What makes you think you love me? For all you know, it could be infatuations. You can’t be sure… no.” She begins to shake her head but I hold her still.
Of course, she doesn’t believe me when I say I love her. Who would, after what she’s been through? Betrayed by the one person who was supposed to protect her, she’s probably convinced she’s unlovable. And then there’s me, complicating her life even more.
“Look at me,” I say, my voice quieter but firmer. She avoids eye contact. Her hands are still gripping my shirt, and I swear she’s holding on to me like I’m the only thing keeping her grounded.
“Look at me, empress,” She raises her head slowly, then looks into my eyes and whatever she sees makes her eyes water.
"Why?” She asks; her voice is barely audible, but it’s enough to shatter what’s left of my restraint. I swallow hard, my hands tightening around hers as I try to steady myself. Looking into her eyes, I know she sees the storm brewing inside me. There’s no point in lying. Not to her. Not now.
“Because you are the only real thing in this world to me… You’ve always been the one for me. Seeing you calm the raging storm. But.. Lawliss… I’m not a good man.”
“I don’t believe you. You are,” she says and I shake my head.
“Maybe I was years ago… but I haven’t been for a long time. Just standing here with you—the things I want to do. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself when I start.” I keep caressing her cheeks and arms. Desire flickers in her eyes. She swallows, her voice trembling but steady as she says
“Then don’t.”
“You sure?” she nods. I raise her chin, then bend to kiss her again, softer this time, but no less consuming. Her hands slide to the back of my neck, tangling in my hair, and I know—this is it. There’s no turning back now.
My hands roam over her body as hers do the same to mine. I grip her waist and hike her up, my hand slipping under her black pleated midi skirt. She wraps her legs around me as I lift her, her arms locking around my neck. With our lips still fused, I carry her to the glass desk, sweeping the documents off with one swift motion.
I pull back, my breath heavy, needing to see her eyes. She stares at me, her chest rising and falling, and before I can say anything, she crashes her lips back onto mine.
She leads this time, fierce and consuming, as my hands find their way under her ridiculously long skirt. My fingers trace a slow line up her thighs, sending a shiver through her. She gasps when I brush against the lace of her panties, and I take advantage of it, deepening the kiss and taking over. My tongue dances with hers, and I’m drowning in her, the taste of something sweet, like honey, mixed with a faint hint of salt, grounding me in the moment.
“Eddie,” she breathes, her voice trembling as my fingers slip past the lace. I hum against her lips, my mouth moving to her neck, planting slow, deliberate kisses. My fingers slide inside her, and she bites back a moan, her body arching into mine. The pace is slow, the movement is designed to drive her closer to the edge while I savor every shiver and gasp she gives me.
Her nails bite into my shoulders, her head falling back as I keep my focus on her reactions—each gasp, each shiver, each whispered plea. She’s fire and chaos and everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m drowning in her—the feel of her, the sound of her, the way she loses herself in me.
“Eddie…” she whispers again, the sound breaking, raw. I murmur something against her neck, words I don’t even realize I’ve said, and her body tenses against mine.
Her release is quiet but powerful, her breath hitching as her head falls forward onto my shoulder. My hand is still moving, slowly, easing her down gently. Her face buries against my neck, her breaths coming quick and uneven, and all I can do is hold her closer, savoring the way she’s finally let go with me.
“Damn, Lynx,” I murmur, my voice thick with desire. “You’re so perfect. Always have been.” She breathes. We’re silent, no word spoken until a minute later, the sound of her phone suddenly blares, cutting through the moment like a cold splash of water. She jolts, having come to herself.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” She says, her voice breathless as she tries to collect herself. She pushes me back slightly, her hands fumbling to adjust her dress. She rushes out without saying another word.
“Trying to avoid me again,” I smirk to myself, then shake my head. Sighing, I bend down to pick up and tidy up the beautiful mess we’ve created.
My beautiful wife doesn’t know how to face me and I find that utterly amusing.
The chase is going to be an intriguing one. One that is sure to brighten up my dark life.