HUSBAND WHO, PART I #2
I tried my best. Knowing damn well that my paranoid stalker of a husband keeps cameras everywhere in our home, it was obvious that he would be watching the screens and listening in after I kicked him out of the living room where I was sitting with Lucy.
My speech is better than ever these days, but I still have pens and paper everywhere for when I just don’t feel like talking.
That’s how I communicated for the most part with Lucy. I’m sure she had questions, too. I don’t know what exactly Dallas told her about me, about my past, about my… unique marriage and relationship with my husband, but she was kind to me, and I returned the favor.
As simply as I could, I warned her about her ‘husband’. I warned her about the Order. Out of respect for Connor and his kinship with Dallas, I didn’t tell her any of the new King’s secrets, though I gave her enough to start asking some questions.
By the time Dallas returned to retrieve her—a pinched look on his face, visibly bruised knuckles, and stray droplets of blood spattering over the tattoo on the side of his neck—I've promised Lucy that, if she needs help, she can ask me.
I gave her my phone number, hoping she understands that, if she needs support as the ‘wife’ of one of these secret society men, she has it.
If she needs someone who understands what it's like to feel trapped, she has that, too.
If she wants to escape, I can try to give her a hand, but considering my track record, maybe it’s better if I cheer her on from the sidelines…
Connor knows exactly what I've done.
Of course he does. I might know about the cameras, but he stopped pretending they weren’t there a long time ago.
Acting as though I have privacy? That lasted…
days? Yeah. Days into my captivity in this house.
I’d be more surprised if he didn’t know everything that happened while I was ‘alone’ with Lucy in the living room.
Two years ago, that would've felt suffocating. Now it's just one of my husband’s quirks, and I just accept it when he points out, “You gave her your number. Dallas’s Lucy. You talked to her.” His eyes go bright. “You made a new friend, sweetheart.”
In answer, I flip him my middle finger.
He laughs. “Just making an observation. I mean, the two of you were whispering for a while.” There’s a mischievous twitch to his lips. “Not giving her pointers on how to escape Dallas, are you?”
“Nothing like that.” At Connor’s exaggerated look of disbelief, I shrug. “What? I just gave her my phone number in case she needs help.”
“It’s been two years, Mrs. Heyward. Do you still dream of poisoning me with foxglove?”
To say ‘no’ would make him beam at me as though everything he put me through when he first brought me here was worth it.
Since I can’t have that… since I feel better keeping him on his guard…
I just tell him, “Only when you come inside of me while I’m asleep and forget to clean me up and I’m all sticky in the morning. ”
“I can’t help it. You look so peaceful, passed out while I fuck you.
Sometimes I just like to keep my cock where it belongs and fall asleep with you.
But I’ll be better, sweetheart. Promise.
And, besides, where else would I finish?
Your pussy belongs to me just like every other part of you, and thanks to that implant in your arm, it’s not like I can knock you up.
” Connor pauses, a wicked grin tugging on his lips. “Yet.”
I snort. Not this again.
He hooks his arm around me, tugging me against his side. “I’m gonna eventually, but don’t worry. We have plenty of time, and that shit in your arm’s only got another year on it before we can seriously start trying.”
I glance up at him. “Really?”
“Yup.”
“I’m broken. You’re fucking nuts, babe. And you want us to procreate?”
“To watch your belly swell, filled with our kid? So that every fucker in Harmony Heights knows that I fucked you and I bred you and no one else can Claim you? Hell, yeah, I want that.”
I duck out from under his hold. Not sure if I want to laugh or stock up on condoms just in case, I settle on giving his shoulder a shove on my way out of the kitchen.
At least, that was my plan. Connor’s too quick for me. He catches my wrist in his hand, using his strength to tug me against him once more. This time, though? We’re front to front, and his mouth is right fucking there.
Next thing I know, I’m kissing him. His lips were there, and I like kissing him, and even if I’ll nibble him elsewhere after for old times’ sake, Connor can get away with a lot when I fall into the trap of kissing him.
I’m kissing him, then I’m slipping my hands under his polo, scraping my nails against his sides. Whoops. There goes the shirt. I caress his chest, flicking his nipples, then decide my hands need to be a little more filled and… yup… now I’m reaching inside of his briefs.
Connor gasps into my mouth. Still kissing me, he moves quickly, shucking his pants, then his briefs so that he’s completely naked save for the white socks he’s wearing.
Breaking our kiss, I slam my hands on his shoulders, shoving him down. I don’t have to say a word. He knows exactly what I want, and he gives it to me by dropping to the kitchen floor. He sprawls out on his back, his erection straining toward me as I look down at him, biting down on his lower lip.
Pure lust dances across his gorgeous features. “You sure you’re not ready to be a mama, sweetheart?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still practice.”
His lips twitch as I start to yank down my leggings, prepared to fuck him right in the middle of the kitchen because here we are, and I need to have him, and as long as he gets to call me his, I can take him whenever I fucking want.
And, oh, do I want…
He blows me a kiss. I toss my panties at him.
He wads up the cotton material, sticking it in his mouth.
I pause, a questioning tilt to my head.
He removes it, showing my own underwear to me. “Make-shift gag,” he explains. “So go ahead. Have your way with me, woman. Don’t worry. No one will hear me scream.”
Of course not. We live in our own cul de sac, backed up against the woods. If I could’ve screamed after Connor first brought me here, no one would’ve heard me then. No one hears us now.
And yet… maybe there’s still a hint of the old Haven alive and well inside of me after all this time because I’m stubborn enough to take that as a challenge.
One I’d like to think I win—if, you know, we actually had neighbors. Since we don’t, every scream belongs to me, and when they’re full of pleasure, nothing like the howls that tore out of my throat so long ago… I want them.
I crave them.
Just like I crave Connor Heyward.
God fucking help me, I crave him, and I have him, and no one will ever take me away from him again.
I’d almost forgotten that I’d told Lucy to get in touch if she needed me when, about a week or so later, I get a text from an unknown number.
There’s only one person it could be when it says:
You said, if I needed help, to reach out… and I need help desperately, Haven
There’s only one person it could be.
Lucy?
Yes.
Help me. Please. I’m at the big building downtown… the fortress, I think. I need a ride out of here where I can think without Dallas crowding me. Can you do that?
I’m on my way
There is no question about whether or not I’m going to help Lucy.
To me, this isn’t just a cry for help. This is a confused, broken woman—so similar to who I was two years ago—who just learned an undeniable truth: that the Order of the Owed is full of dangerous secrets, dangerous men, and a love that can seem all-consuming at times if they choose you.
I’m sure she loves him. I’m sure she just needs a couple of days away from Dallas to make sense of it all. I’d wager most of what’s in my bank account that Lucy has finally learned that Dallas isn’t exactly who he says he is, but given the chance, he could be.
I know now where Dallas ran off to the night he had Connor and me babysitting Lucy.
Just like how Adrian found where Winter put me, he tracked down Lucy’s bastard of a husband.
Though Connor offered to join them—because, even after all this time, the Heirs are all for one and one for all…
except dead Desmond—Dallas preferred for him to stay back, watching Lucy…
and me. Which Connor did while the others drove out of Harmony Heights to confront Lucy’s true husband.
Confront him, and kill him.
Technically, Lucy is a widow. Maybe she knows that.
Maybe it’ll be a shock. It doesn’t matter.
I know damn well that, if Dallas is anything like Connor, he’ll hunt her down before long and convince her to stay with him.
Honestly? I don’t even think that would be a bad idea for her from what I can see, but she reached out. She needs help.
I’m going to help her.
Now… how am I going to do that without getting Connor involved?
Something tells me that Lucy would rather I attempt this safety rescue without my husband in tow.
I get that, too. Connor can be a little…
much. He’s also way more intuitive than I ever gave him credit for.
Either that or he somehow found a way to bug my phone because, as I sneak into the kitchen, searching for a ring of keys to one of the cars kept in the garage, I find Connor leaning against the counter, swinging a set on his pointer finger.
He grins. "So… where are we going?"
I open my mouth. Shut it. Force myself to hide my answering grin, and then say, “I have to help Lucy.”
He raises his eyebrows. “I? Or we?”
“It’ll piss off Dallas if you get involved,” I warn.
Connor snorts. “But it’ll earn me brownie points with my beloved wife. Get your shoes on, sweetheart, and get in the black car. I’ll drive.”
Of course he will. There isn’t anything he won’t do for me, and I fucking love him for it.