48. Genevieve #2
A tear slipped down my cheek, and he sighed as I swiped it away.
I couldn’t even fault him. It was the truth…
When I thought of my babies… I didn’t eat.
I’d shut down. Lay awake at night… Reid would have to stop his work each time to make sure I was okay.
He never made me feel like I was a burden, but the feeling was weighing on me now.
He approached me with caution, seeing the look in my eyes. “I’m not trying to keep them from you,” he said. “I’m trying to keep you from falling apart.”
I shook my head softly. “But I could’ve at least seen my only daughter in her wedding gown… You didn’t even think to show me.” The words sounded so silly, so pathetic, but he didn’t see it that way. His chest rose and fell as he placed his hands on the side of my face, grounding me.
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “I know I didn’t… I was only hiding it because I didn’t want to see you hurt.”
My lips parted. “But hiding it does hurt me.” Everything about leaving them hurt.
He stopped rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs, eyes watching my helpless cries.
And then, gentler, he spoke: “You’re right.” I obviously wasn’t completely right, but after twenty years of marriage, it was his way to calm me. “Tell me what you need. Tell me, mon amour, what can I do to make this right?”
He hadn’t done anything wrong, he and I both knew it.
He was just telling me the honest truth of the situation, and I was too soft, too shattered to take it.
But I wanted the truth. I was done with the secrecy, with the lies, with the pretending…
I could never pretend everything was okay with Reid.
He wouldn’t let me. But I hid my true thoughts, hid my true feelings for leaving everything behind because I couldn’t leave him behind again.
I didn’t want to hide anymore.
“One phone call…” I whispered, having to force the words out.
He went still. Years of being under the radar, years of staying in the shadows, years of mingling with only the one percent of people the world didn’t even know existed.
“Genevieve…” He said my name like a warning… but it sounded like a plea.
“I know what reaching out means,” I whispered, pressing harder, trying to break through to him. “The risks, what it will cost you. I know what it might expose.”
Reid’s jaw clenched hard, the muscle ticking. “You’re asking me to open a door I won’t be able to close,” he said softly.
“I know.” Another tear slipped down my cheek.
“One phone call, then what?” His jaw tightened. “You hear her voice, and you’ll want more. You’ll want to see her. Then Eugene. You’ll rip open twenty years of wounds I’ve barely held together for you. One call opens a door you will not close again,” he whispered. “I know you. You’ll drown in it.”
“But I need them,” I choked.
His eyes softened, just barely. “I know, Vieve.” He swallowed. “And that’s why I’m saying no.”
Silence stretched between us… My heart sank at his words, and for the first time in probably years, I stepped back from him.
His face hardened, then guilt sliced across it before he masked it again, his hands lowering to his sides.
“Reid,” I whispered.
He closed his eyes, looking away as if that was the end of the discussion.
The tears that had been clinging dried instantly, burned away by the strike of my anger surging through me.
Turning away from him, I left the room, pulse pounding as more tears threatened to escape my eyes, but I forced them back.
I found a corner and sat in one of the chairs, gazing out of the window over the same curve of the earth that I was used to seeing.
Reid’s footsteps entered the cabin, the air in the jet so thick with tension I was sure the flight attendants were hiding somewhere in the back.
He stopped beside me, waiting for me to turn, and when I didn’t he stepped away, walking back to his seat as he continued his work.
Eventually, I didn’t realize when, exhaustion won and I fell asleep, my body slumped sideways against the window.
I felt my head fall against his shoulder, my breath catching softly as consciousness dragged me partially back. Reid’s arms were warm, pulling me back into him despite me pulling away a few hours ago.
He let out a gentle sigh, one my gut had come to know well over the years. It had my heart racing in anticipation, but I kept my composure, afraid he’d change his mind if I so much as moved a single muscle.
“One call,” he muttered. My eyes fluttered open to meet his. “You get one phone call,” he reiterated.
My arms were already around his neck, pulling him in as relief flooded my chest.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He rubbed my back, his mouth placing a lingering kiss on my neck, and then his lips found mine, possessive and claiming my lips, my mouth all for himself.
One call wasn’t forgiveness for denying me. It was surrender. Reid would only surrender like this when he was afraid of losing me.
He sat on the edge of the bed, turning me in his hold as I straddled him, his mouth still devouring me.
But he could never lose me. Never again.
He bunched my dress up over my ass, as I pulled away. I cupped his face in my hands, brushing my thumbs over the tension in his jaw as his other hand slid between my thighs. He teased at my entrance with soft, deliberate torture, his eyes locked on mine, asking without speaking.
My breath shuddered. A deep sigh of relief left me as I sunk down on his length.
A deep, guttural moan escaped his throat, filled with need and possession… as his hands tightened on my hips. And I kissed him again… slow at first, then soft and apologetic.
Then deeper, hungrier, pulling him into my mouth, taking his bottom lip between my teeth. His thumb pressed into the soft dip of my hip, dragging me forward an inch on his length.
Then another. My breath broke in a whimper. “That’s it,” he murmured, guiding me down again, deeper this time. “Take every inch of me.”
My hands slid up his neck, fingers curling in his hair as my forehead fell to his.
He didn’t let me set the pace or let me run. He held me exactly where he wanted me, trembling for him. My lips parted, but nothing came out. I was too full, too stretched around him to form thoughts.
He brought one hand to my jaw, guiding my gaze to his, holding me steady. “Use your words,” he murmured, eyes locked to mine. “What do you want, Vieve?”
My breath caught. “I want…” My voice cracked, soft and honest. “I want you to take care of me.”
His thumb stroked my lower lip, slow enough to make the rest of my body ache. “And how do you want me to do that?”
I swallowed, hips rocking unconsciously, pulling another inch of him deeper.
“Tell me,” he whispered, the command gentle but binding. “Tell me how you want your husband.”
My hands tightened at his shoulders, desperation fraying the edges of my control.
“Take me,” I whispered. “Please… take all of me.”
His eyes darkened, satisfied, like that plea was exactly what he’d been waiting for. One phone call, his surrender… for mine.
“Good girl.”
The praise sent fire through me. He slid his hand from my jaw to my throat, wrapping around it gently. The pressure was light but just enough to drive me fucking crazy.
My breath came in shallow little gasps, my body melting into the hold, my hips moving without thought, chasing the friction he refused to give unless I earned it.
One hand on my pulse, the other on my waist, fingers digging into my skin as I rode him.
After a few moments, his grip tightened around my throat, his moans growing heavier before everything snapped.
I clutched at his shoulders, nails dragging across muscle as he fucked up into me with brutal precision, setting a rhythm I couldn’t keep up with, deep, unrelenting, claiming.
“Reid!” My voice cracked into a plea.
“Ride me,” he growled into my mouth, his hand dragging me back down onto him again, harder. “Now.”
My hips obeyed instantly, snapping down into the pace he set, my body moving before my mind could catch up. Each thrust hit deeper. My vision blurred. My body shook, but I took everything.
“That’s it,” he hissed, swallowing every sound. “Cum for me. Right here. While you’re on my cock.”
My climax ripped through me violently, my walls clenching so tight around him he groaned into my neck, the sound deep and raw enough to break me again.
My body trembled under his as he fucked me through the aftershocks, pulling every last tremor out of me until I was limp in his hands. I whimpered, folding against him, forehead pressing to his as his other hand slid down my spine, anchoring me.
Then, his breath hitched. His grip turned rigid.
And with a low, gutted growl against my throat, he pushed deeper than I could take, his entire body tensing beneath mine as he spilled into me, hot and endless as he filled me up with his cum. I held him tight, afraid I’d get consumed by the pain and the pleasure pulling me under.