Chapter 3 #2
He continued to thrust through her climax, prolonging her pleasure until she was trembling beneath him. Only when her spasms began to subside did he allow his own restraint to slip. His rhythm grew erratic, his breathing harsh against her ear.
“I need to feel you come,” Penny whispered, emboldened by her own release. “Fill me up.”
That was all it took. Baron’s grip on her hip tightened to the point of bruising as he drove into her one final time, burying himself to the hilt. She felt him pulse inside her, his deep groan of satisfaction sending shivers down her spine as he emptied himself.
For a moment, they remained frozen in that position, both catching their breath. Then Baron carefully withdrew, rolling to his side and pulling her against his chest. His heart thundered against her back, and she could feel the light sheen of sweat on his skin.
“You okay?” he murmured, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to her shoulder.
Penny nodded, still too overwhelmed to form coherent words. Her body hummed with satisfaction, muscles pleasantly sore in ways she hadn’t experienced in far too long.
Baron’s fingers traced lazy patterns on her hip. “I didn’t plan for this to happen tonight,” he admitted quietly. “But I can’t say I regret it.”
“Neither do I,” she finally managed, turning in his arms to face him. In the dim light, his features seemed softer somehow, the sharp edges of his corporate persona smoothed away. “Though this certainly complicates things at work.”
A slow smile spread across his face, wicked and promising. “I’ve never been afraid of complications.” His hand slid up to cup her face, thumb brushing across her lower lip. “Especially when they’re this… satisfying.”
“So, we take this one date at a time?” Penny asked.
Baron smiled, “We can move at whatever speed you want. I know what I want and that’s not going to change.”
* * *
The early evening light filtered through gauzy curtains as Penny curled into the corner of her couch, wrapped in a worn NYU sweatshirt and the kind of fuzzy socks that signified adulthood and surviving the chaos with grace.
The scent of lavender and lemon balm hung in the air—she’d lit her favorite candle thirty minutes ago, hoping it might soothe the knots in her chest. Matilda was in her room finishing a puzzle, humming off-key to a Disney soundtrack, and for once, the house was quiet.
It was rare she got a moment like this—where everything wasn’t being pulled from her in five directions. So she seized it.
She hit FaceTime and waited.
The screen lit up with a cheery chime before the call connected, revealing Sara Ann Churchwell in all her chaotic glory—bundled in a puffy pink robe with a braid thrown over her shoulder like she was a Viking princess who just happened to live in the wilds of Alaska.
Behind her, a snow-covered pine forest stretched out beneath a purple sky.
A kettle hissed in the background, and, yes, that was definitely a taxidermied moose in the corner wearing a sequined scarf.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite runaway PA-turned-garden-witch,” Sara said, grinning. “Please, please, tell me you’re calling to say that fine man of yours finally ruined your good blowout.”
Penny barked out a laugh and immediately felt lighter. “God, I missed you.”
“You look good. Tired. Glowy. Emotionally unstable. My favorite combo.”
Penny tucked her knees under her and sighed. “I needed a voice that wasn’t in my head. Or in my bed.”
Sara leaned in like a bloodhound catching the scent. “Ohhhhhh. This sounds like a story. Tell Auntie Sara everything.”
Penny hesitated, her thumb brushing over her lower lip. “It’s Baron. I like him. A lot. And that scares me more than I want to admit.”
Sara raised a brow. “Scared because he’s too good to be true? Or scared because you’ve finally met a man who doesn’t make you shrink to fit his ego?”
Penny gave a dry laugh. “Both.”
Sara nodded knowingly and took a sip of her tea. “He brought you flowers and pastries. That’s the holy grail of emotional competency. Also, that man looks like he was carved out of stone and blessed by a Creole grandma’s prayer circle.”
“It’s not just the gestures,” Penny murmured. “It’s the stillness in him. The way he doesn’t try to fix me or fill the silence. He just sees me.”
Sara’s voice softened. “Sounds like the first man who’s ever wanted all of you. Even the parts you keep hidden in the back closet labeled ‘handle with care.’”
Penny’s throat tightened. She stared at the flickering candle, trying to ground herself.
“But I keep hearing that voice,” she whispered. “The one that says, ‘remember last time.’”
Sara tilted her head, something flickering in her expression. “Funny you should say that.”
Penny’s stomach dropped. “What?”
Sara hesitated. “I wasn’t going to bring this up unless I had to. But… Antonio reached out.”
The words landed like a punch.
Penny sat bolt upright. “What?”
“Two weeks ago,” Sara said. “He called my personal line—not the clinic. He used a different number. Said he was trying to ‘reconnect with his family.’”
A long, sharp silence fell between them.
Penny’s voice came out like a hiss. “Matilda and I are not his family. He gave that up the moment he signed those papers.”
“I know that. You know that. But Antonio? He’s the kind of man who sees people as possessions, not people. And he doesn’t know how to leave well enough alone.”
Penny rubbed her hands over her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want to throw a grenade into your life if it was just a one-off. I handled it. Told him to kick rocks, choke on his Botox, and maybe consider fatherhood in his next lifetime.”
Penny let out a strangled laugh. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did. Verbatim. I also told him if he called again, I’d forward his messages to every medical licensing board in the northern hemisphere.”
Penny’s laugh died as quickly as it had come. “But he’s poking around again. Which means he’s looking for control.”
“Not love. Not Matilda. Control.”
“I left him because I couldn’t raise a child with someone who saw her as an inconvenience.
” Penny’s voice shook. “I didn’t take his money out of greed—I took it because it was the only thing he gave without a fight.
And I caught him, Sara. I walked into his office and found him with Janice—the same woman I already suspected.
She didn’t even pretend to be surprised.
She just smirked and said, ‘Guess you weren’t enough after all. ’”
Sara’s jaw clenched, her entire face sharpening. “Oh honey.”
“He looked guilty. For once. Like the mask cracked. And then, when it all came out, he gave me everything in the divorce—money, the house, full custody. All of it. He wanted to save face more than he wanted to fight.”
“And you took it.”
“I took it,” Penny said, voice trembling. “And I disappeared.”
“And now he wants what?” Sara snapped. “To waltz back in like he’s some long-lost daddy of the year?”
Penny’s hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the throw pillow. “What if he ruins it? What if Baron finds out and decides it’s too messy?”
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “Then he’s not the man we thought he was. But honestly? I don’t think that man runs. He looks like the type to sharpen knives and declare war for the people he loves.”
Penny let out a slow breath. “It’s the first time I’ve wanted something in years. Not just for Matilda. For me.”
“Then hold on to that,” Sara said. “You deserve that kind of wanting. That kind of joy.”
Penny nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.
“And if Antonio keeps poking around?” she asked.
“I’ll book a flight, show up in heels and a parka, and bury him in six feet of metaphorical snow. He will not mess with my best friend’s peace.”
Penny cracked a real smile. “You’re insane.”
“I’m loyal. There’s a difference.”