Chapter 13 #2
I slam the door, momentarily forgetting that Zeke is asleep right next door, and grimace when I hear his cries.
“Fuck me,” I grind between clenched teeth.
“Luca?” Harper’s groggy voice stirs a fire deep within me, and I push it down, silencing the desire.
“You lied to me,” I bite, my words as cold as the night air outside.
Harper rubs the sleep from her eyes as she glances at the clock and sits up. “What?” She’s groggy and disoriented for a moment. I recognize the confusion, but I don’t fucking care.
“You should have told me!”
She collapses back onto the bed. “You’re going to have to spell it out for me. I don’t know what you’re mad about, Luca.”
“Ashton and Nova—and you knew.” The heat emanates throughout my entire body. As much as I want to kick her out of the bedroom, it is our room. But maybe she should go sleep on the couch or in Zeke’s room on the twin mattress.
A heavy sigh spills past her lips, and she pats the bed beside her—the empty space, my space. “Come, let’s talk.”
Heat burns through my body. I yank my sweatshirt over my head. I should get changed for bed, but there’s no sleep in my near future. I’m too pumped with anger, fueled by the fire that Harper created. “I don’t feel like talking.”
Harper’s words are soft, disarming, but they don’t calm me. “So, you just feel like yelling?”
I turn my back on her, facing the mirror. It’s dark. I can’t see her reflection or my own at this hour. I strip out of my clothes, finding a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt to put on. Sleeping next to her naked is too intimate tonight.
Not that we haven’t already done that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m angry with her.
“You lied to me.”
Harper sighs and sits up again in bed. Her voice is quieter, and it should relax me, but instead, it irritates me.
“I walked in on Ashton and Harper—doing things.” She gestures with her hands and points to the door. “Down the hallway.”
“How long?”
She bites her bottom lip and winces, glancing away. “A while.”
“How. Long.” The tone in my voice grows more perturbed that she isn’t answering my question.
“A while. It was before our wedding but after we moved into this house. I don’t know the exact date and time.”
Is she being snarky with me? I huff loudly enough for her to hear me. “So, you thought keeping secrets from me was a good idea?”
She opens and closes her mouth, perhaps deciding on how to answer.
Her silence fills the void between us. Eventually, she finally answers when I stare at her, waiting for her to tell me the truth.
“I shouldn’t have agreed. I just … I didn’t feel it was my place to say anything.
I told them both that they needed to tell you. ”
I grumble and snarl at Harper. “Yeah, well, neither decided to do that. Instead, I had to find out at the party, when Nova announced her love for Ashton.”
“She what?” Harper’s eyes widen.
“She proclaimed she was going to marry him. Ironic, considering Ashton practically did the same thing in that damned house and said he was going to marry you.”
Harper rubs at her temples. “Ashton only said that because your father orchestrated the marriage. He wanted you to be free and me to be wed into the family to keep my mouth shut about that poor kid.”
“Not the same thing.” I pace the length of the bedroom. I can’t sit still, and I certainly can’t lie down. “Ashton proclaimed his love for you long before you and I even had our first kiss.”
“I-I don’t even know what to say to that, Luca. I’ve never had feelings for Ashton.” Her brow is pinched, and the longer I stare at her, the more my body reacts, wanting her, craving her touch.
Her voice is soft, sweet, captivating, like a siren’s song, luring me to her.
I reject it.
I keep pacing, forcing distance between us because that’s the only thing keeping me rational and not giving in to temptation.
“My point is that Ashton doesn’t fall in love. This thing with Nova, it’s going to blow up, and when it does, we live together. What then?”
Harper climbs out of bed, the jersey loose over her curves but hanging just above her thighs.
She looks strikingly hot and sinful.
I inhale sharply, desperately pushing thoughts of Harper naked from my mind, because I know she’s wearing nothing underneath that jersey.
“I’m sorry I kept the truth about Ashton and Nova from you. I wanted them to tell you. I told them they needed to tell you—”
“And when they refused, you should have come to me yourself. You’re my wife!”
Harper momentarily closes her eyes for a brief second and exhales through her mouth. She’s trying to remain calm. I can sense that I’m rattling her, and I smirk, knowing that I have that power over her.
“I may be your wife, Luca, but you don’t love me. You never have. You can’t demand that I don’t keep secrets from you when you’re keeping secrets from me.”
She steps closer to me, but I take a step backward, stumbling into the dresser against the wall. I push off it and shift my weight, turning to keep away from her but also not be backed into a corner or wall.
“What secrets have I been keeping? Because I’ve been brutally honest with you.”
Her hand reaches out first, her fingers grazing my arm, and I yank my body away from her reach. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” she asks, her voice soft and sweet. She’s anything but innocent.
“Try to coax me into forgiving you. I can’t forgive you, Harper. I won’t. Not this time.” Heat coils around my heart, and I move farther from her reach.
“Instead, you’re going to hate me forever? It wasn’t my secret to tell, Luca. Are you going to never talk to your wife again?” Her eyes flicker, and it’s obvious she’s hurting. I hate being the cause of that pain, but she caused mine first.
Maybe it’s childish.
Should I forgive her?
She’s not the one shacking up with my sister.
“Ashton never should have touched Nova,” I growl, redirecting my anger at him. But he’s not in the bedroom.
I storm out of the bedroom and head down the hall. If Nova and Ashton are sharing a bed together, I’m going to kill him.
“Luca, wait.” Harper hurries to catch up to me, her voice a harsh whisper. As I rush past Zeke’s door, I realize why she’s keeping her voice down, and I grimace.
I do not want to ruin things for Zeke.
I don’t want to wake him.
I don’t want to become my father.
I’m overwhelmed.
Burdened.
Each breath comes out heavier as I gasp for breath. I feel the edge of a breakdown coming. I’m teetering on the ravine, and in moments, I’ll be free-falling into oblivion.
Her soft touch is on my back.
Harper.
I don’t pull away. A small part of me wants to push her away, tell her not to touch me, to leave me be. But I don’t move. My legs crumple to the floor, her arms around me, sheltering me.
Each breath of air feels impossible to take.
My lungs struggle and burn as I gasp and clutch at the air with my lips as though I’m drowning.
Her touch is warm. Comforting. Harper continues rubbing my back, holding me, cradling me as the pain encompasses all of me.
Tears don’t form.
I don’t cry.
But my body wracks with pain. With grief. With fear and undeniable suffering. I’ve seen too much at the hands of my father. I don’t want to become him, and yet I feel the changes surfacing.
I’m becoming the monster I never wanted to be.
The enemy is within me.
Harper is quiet and still, her arms around me like a fortress, giving me strength, hope and, more importantly, love.
At least it feels like it, but without the sentimental words.
She kisses the side of my head, holds me tight to her, and rubs at my back in a soothing motion that dulls the ache in my chest.
Eventually, I can breathe again.
Each breath is my own, and I feel foolish curled on the floor, my hands touching the ground that we walk on. I untangle from her embrace, silence between us.
I can’t meet her stare.
Humiliation.
Embarrassment.
All of it burns through me, but the heat of anger has dissolved.
For now.
Harper shifts her weight but says nothing as I stand. Her hands are on my arms as she rises with me, her touch the only thread bringing me back to a harsh reality.
My gaze stares at her hand on my arm, but I can’t bring her to move it, to push her away.
I don’t embrace her either.
The silence hangs thick between us. Her touch is solid, warm, and strong. There’s an ease that only she brings, which I find both comforting and curious.
She finally breaks the silence, her breath barely above a whisper. “Let’s go to bed.”
I nod, and she guides me to our bedroom in silence. She closes the door behind us while I head to the bed, my heart no longer raging as it had been moments earlier.
A quiet, serene relief floods through me as I climb into bed.
Harper does the same, remaining on her side, and she silently reaches for the pillows, the one rule I put into place when we shared the bed after our last fight.
Seems pointless now, considering what we did earlier this evening and tonight, her holding me tight.
I don’t want the pillows.
I don’t want the wall built up between us.
I want her.
I toss the extra pillows to the floor.
While I appreciate her giving me space, I no longer want it or need it.
I pull Harper against me, pushing my knee between her bare thighs, my leg finding her heated core.
She raises an eyebrow, and even in the darkness, I can see the hint of a smile on her lips. The pleasure that I can draw out of her with such a simple touch.
I’d do anything for this woman, my wife.
My lips crash on hers, my hands firmly plant against her cheeks, keeping her tight to me. I need her. Crave her.
My body seeks warmth and comfort, and Harper willingly obliges, parting her lips for me to gain entrance.
Her eyes fall shut, reveling in the feeling, and mine momentarily close while I kiss her, my lips dancing from her lips down her neck, worshipping every inch of her heated skin.
“Luca,” she moans my name, her fingers tight in my hair as she drags my gaze up to hers. “I know you’re hurting. I don’t want to take advantage of you if this isn’t what you want.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” I rasp, deepening the kiss, silencing her.
I need Harper.
She gives me something that I can’t get elsewhere. She fulfills a need I never knew I had, buried deep within me.
Desperation gives way, and she offers me every bit of herself, once, twice, three times over. I worship her body like the temple that it is.
Every broken piece of me becomes whole when I’m with her, even as the darkness inside me threatens to take over. I feel that darkness edging closer, and she’s the light that pushes it away.
The way she touches me grounds me, anchoring my heart to hers. There’s nothing beyond the two of us—just heat, need, and desire. She is what I crave, what I need. There is no life worth living without her.
Everything else fades away—the pain, the doubts, the world outside our embrace. All I feel is Harper, her heartbeat in time with mine, her breath mingling with my own, creating a rhythm that is ours.
Every inch of her is beautiful and, more importantly, mine. I trace her skin with the pads of my fingers, memorizing every curve, every freckle, every magnificent detail that is uniquely Harper.
The sweet gasps and moans fill the air, which only encourages me further. Heat pools between her thighs with each stroke of my cock.
Her moans and pleas flood the room in ecstasy.
The connection between us is electric, sparking a fire that burns away any lingering uncertainty. She is my solace, my sanctuary, and I will never let her go.
I’m close, at the edge of the abyss, craving the feeling of falling with her, together.
She’s nearly there with me. “Luca.” Her moan is of desperation and neediness, which further quickens my pace, making my cock throb as I chase the orgasm with her.
My fingers rub at her clit, watching her face, studying every line and curve of her body as her hips buck off the mattress, back rising, toes curling, her entire body shudders as her hands clench at the sheets.
Her insides quiver and clench down onto my cock, the sensation overwhelming, bringing me over the edge with her. I struggle to keep my eyes open, but I want to see her come undone for me.
She’s more beautiful than the aurora borealis on a winter night, more gorgeous than a sunrise on the peaks of the highest mountain.
I’d give up everything for her.
I’d burn the world down if it meant keeping her and Zeke safe.
Watching the glow of her cheeks, the smile on her lips, the gasp in her breath as she tries catching her orgasm on the chase toward oblivion, is the most beautiful vision.
She leans in, kissing me, her lips sweet and tasting like cherries as I wrap my arms around her, pulling her against me, and I grumble, realizing my mistake. “We didn’t use a condom.”
There’s no fear in her voice, no concern, which gives me pause. “It’s okay.” Her hands smooth over my arms. “I’m on the pill.”
Relief floods through me, and though I’ve heard her utter those words before, there’s a sense of freedom in knowing that there won’t be any more little ones running around, at least not until we’re both ready.