Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
CAROLINE—TWO WEEKS LATER
It’s been two weeks since I first arrived at this cabin.
Two weeks since I’ve disconnected from everybody and everything I’ve ever known.
And I can’t say I miss any of it one bit.
I’ve barely left this bed, let alone the cabin to step outside for fresh air.
And the entire time I’ve been next to a man that I’m scared to say I love more than I knew was possible.
It’s time to go get some groceries, but he’s so hard to leave.
I’m laying in his bed. The sheets are still tangled around our legs, my skin slick with sweat and the musky scent of sex clinging to every inch of us.
He watches as I stretch like a cat, my back arching off the mattress, tits pressing forward in that way that makes his dick twitch even though he just spent the last hour buried inside me.
I let out a satisfied little moan, my fingers trailing down my stomach before stopping just above where he left me swollen and sensitive.
“You’re trying to kill me,” he murmurs, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better view.
My pussy is glistening, still puffy from the way he fucked me—slow at first, then hard enough to make the headboard slam against the wall.
I bite my lip, my thighs falling open just a little wider, as if to invite him back inside.
“Maybe,” I tease. “Or maybe I just like watching you look at me like that.”
He reaches out, dragging his thumb along my slit, collecting the wetness there. I gasp, my hips jerking up off the bed. “Like what?” He asks, bringing his thumb to his mouth and sucking it clean.
“Your taste is addictive—sweet and salty, all woman.” He says.
I roll onto my side, my ass pressing against his thigh, and he can’t resist giving it a sharp smack. I yelp, but the way my eyes darken tells him I like it. “Get up,” He says. “I need to clean you up.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You just want to get me in the shower so you can fuck me again.”
“Guilty.” He grins, pulling me to my feet. My legs are unsteady, my body still trembling from the aftershocks of my last orgasm. He steadies me with a hand on my waist, guiding me into the bathroom.
The water is hot, steam curling around us as he presses me against the tile, his mouth crashing down on mine.
His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, his tongue sliding against mine.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to grab the soap, lathering my hands before running them over my body—my tits, my stomach, the curve of my hips.
I moan as he kneels in front of me, spreading my legs and running his hands between them.
“Sebastian,” I gasp as his fingers slip between my folds, teasing my clit. “We’re supposed to be—oh fuck—cleaning.”
“This is cleaning,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my pussy. “Very thorough cleaning.” He presses a kiss to my inner thigh before standing, spinning me around so my hands are braced against the wall. He gives my ass another smack.
I yelp, but then he pushes back against me, his body begging for more.
He grabs my hips, lining himself up before sliding back inside me in one smooth thrust. I cry out, my fingers curling against the tile as he sets a punishing pace.
The water sluices down our bodies, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the shower.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave marks. “So tight, so wet—just for me.”
“Only for you,” I pant, my voice breaking as he reaches around to rub my clit. “Always for you.”
I can feel him getting even harder inside of me, my body trembling as I neared the edge, again. He leans forward, his chest pressing against my back, his lips brushing my ear. “Cum for me. Let me feel you milk my cock.”
I shatter with a cry, my pussy clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. He follows me over the edge, his release spilling inside me as he buries himself as deep as he can go.
We stay like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, the water cooling around us. Finally, he pulls out, watching as his cum drips down my thighs. I turned to face him, my eyes heavy-lidded and satisfied.
“You’re insatiable,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his chest.
“Only with you.” He cups my face, tilting my head up so he can kiss me properly. When he pulls back, he can’t resist adding, “But we’re not done yet.”
My eyes widen. “We’re not?”
He shakes his head, reaching for the towel. “You’ve got errands to run, don’t you?”
I frown, confusion flickering across my face. “The supermarket. But?—”
“Exactly.” He dries me off with slow, deliberate strokes, his hands lingering on my ass. Then he reaches into the drawer and pulls out the small, sleek plug with a purple stone on the other end. My eyes lock onto it, my breath hitches. I’ve never worn a butt plug before.
“Sebastian—” I whisper, my voice a mix of excitement and nerves.
He presses a kiss into my shoulder. “You’re going to wear this while you’re out. And every time you feel it inside you, you’re going to think of me. Of my cock filling you up, of my hands on your body, of the way I make you cum.”
I bite my lip, my cheeks flushing. “What if someone notices?”
“They won’t.” He turns me around, presses the cool metal against my ass.
I gasp as he teases my hole with it, my body tensing before relaxing into the intrusion.
“But you will. And you’ll know that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this—desperate, needy, mine. And I’ll know that you belong to me.”
He pushes the plug inside me slowly, watching as my fingers curl against the bathroom counter. I let out a soft whimper, my body adjusting to the fullness. When it is placed properly, he gives my ass a gentle pat.
“There,” He murmurs, a smile wide across his face.
"I'm going to go get dressed,” I head to the bedroom smirking at him over my shoulder. I blow him a kiss. I tug the hem of my sweater down over my jeans before slipping on my hiking boots.
I still don't own mountain clothes. Apparently Sebastian has decided that's a problem. His solution?
"We're buying you flannel." His exact words. As though flannel is a life requirement.
I walk into the living room. He's waiting by the front door with his truck keys dangling from one finger. His eyes drift over me for half a second before he smiles.
"What?" I ask.
“I love knowing you have something inside of you to remind you of me.”
“I can feel it right now.” I say.
"I noticed."
“How did you notice?”
"Your butt sticks out a little bit. I like it.” He says. "Just wear flannel when I put it in next time.”
I roll my eyes. "You're obsessed. I've created a monster."
"No." He opens the front door. "I've created a mountain woman."
I shove his shoulder as I walk past him. He chuckles. The sound follows me onto the porch.
Then I stop. Every muscle in my body locks. My mother is standing in the middle of the porch. Perfect hair. Designer sunglasses perched on top of her head. Cream-colored pantsuit and high heels. As though she somehow wandered onto a mountain while attending a country club luncheon.
She lowers her phone. "There you are."
The words are sharp. Controlled. Dangerously calm. My stomach drops.
"Mom?"
She folds her arms. "I've been calling you for two weeks."
"I know."
"You haven't answered."
"I know."
"I pinged your phone."
I blink. "You what?"
"I had to know where you were."
She says it as though tracking her adult daughter is completely reasonable.
"I've been worried sick."
I almost laugh. The sound dies before it reaches my lips. "Worried?"
"You disappeared after humiliating yourself—and me—at your wedding."
There it is. Not worried about me. Worried about embarrassment. Classic. Before I can answer, Sebastian steps onto the porch behind me. His shoulder brushes mine. The movement is subtle. Protective.
My mother notices immediately. Her eyes narrow. She looks at him. Really looks at him. Her expression changes. Confusion. Recognition. Disbelief.
"Sebastian?"
His body goes completely still. He doesn't answer.
She looks between us. Back and forth. Then her eyes settle on me.
"What are you doing with Sebastian?"
The question catches me completely off guard. I frown. "What?"
"What are you doing here?" She isn't asking me anymore. She's staring directly at him. Sebastian's jaw tightens. Silence stretches across the porch. I look from one of them to the other. A strange feeling begins creeping up my spine. Uncomfortable.
My mother knows him. How?
I turn toward Sebastian. "You two know each other?"
He opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. The silence feels wrong. Very wrong.
I look back at my mother. "Mom…?”
She lets out one short, humorless laugh. "You didn't tell her?"
My pulse quickens. "Tell me what?"
Sebastian still hasn't spoken. His eyes are fixed on the porch floor. The realization hits me before anyone says a word. He knew. He knew something. For how long? I step away from both of them.
"What's going on?"
Neither answers.
"Sebastian?"
Nothing.
My voice rises. "Someone tell me what the hell is happening."
My mother's gaze never leaves his. Then, almost casually, she says the words that split my world neatly in half.
"Caroline..." She points at Sebastian. "He's my ex-husband."
The mountain disappears beneath my feet. I stare at her. Then at Sebastian. Back at her again. My brain refuses to process the sentence.
"What?" My voice barely exists.
She sighs impatiently. "Sebastian St. Clare." She says his full name as though introducing him at a dinner party. "I was married to him."
The blood drains from my face. I slowly turn toward Sebastian. He finally lifts his eyes to mine. Pain. Regret. Guilt. Everything is written there.
"You knew." It isn't a question.
He closes his eyes for one heartbreaking second. Then nods. "I found out the morning after you got here."
My heart cracks. Not because he'd once been married to my mother. But because he'd known. And every smile... Every kiss... He'd carried that secret through all of it. Everything inside me has gone numb.
"You knew." My voice sounds small. Broken.
He nods once. The movement is almost imperceptible. "I knew."
For several long seconds, I simply look at him. The man who made me laugh. The man whose cabin felt more like home than any place I'd ever lived. The man who kissed me like I was something precious. The man I'd started imagining a future with. He knew.
I swallow hard. "When?"
His jaw tightens. "The morning after you arrived."
My stomach twists violently. "The morning..." I shake my head. "The morning after?"
I hear my own voice asking the next question before I realize I've spoken. "Why?"
Silence. I take one step toward him.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
His eyes meet mine. They're full of regret. "I tried." His voice is rough. "So many times."
"When?"
"The morning I made breakfast."
My mind flashes back. He'd started to tell me something. Then he'd asked whether I wanted more toast. I almost laugh. Instead, another tear slides down my face.
"You asked me about toast."
"I know."
"You kissed me."
His eyes close briefly. "I know."
"You held my hand."
"I know."
"You let me fall in love with you." The words escape before I can stop them.
The moment they leave my mouth, everything becomes even quieter. Sebastian's face changes. His eyes widen just enough that I know he'd heard every word. He takes one hesitant step toward me. "Caroline..."
"No." I step backward.
"You don't get to say my name like that."
He stops immediately. I wrap my arms around myself. Trying to hold together whatever pieces of me are left.
"You knew who my mother was."
"Yes."
"You knew she was the reason I ran."
"Yes."
"You knew every single day."
"Yes."
Each answer feels like another crack spreading through my chest.
"So tell me." My voice trembles. "Why?"
He opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. The silence lasts only a few seconds. It feels like years. He looks at me. Then down at the porch. Then back at me. But he never answers. Not one word. Because there isn't one. Not one that can undo what's already happened.
A sob escapes before I can stop it. I wipe angrily at my face. "I trusted you."
"I know."
"I trusted you more than I've trusted anyone."
"I know."
"And you lied to me."
"I didn't..." He stops himself. Because he knows. Keeping the truth from me was still a lie. Maybe not with words. But with silence.
I shake my head. "I can't."
"Caroline, please?—"
"I can't!" The words echo through the trees. My breathing comes in ragged gasps. Everything hurts.
Nathan lied. My mother manipulated me. And now the one man who made me believe I could trust again... Kept the biggest secret of all. I look past him. His truck sits beside the porch. The keys are hanging from a hook just inside the open front door. Without thinking, I move.
"Caroline?"
I brush past him. He doesn't stop me. Inside the cabin, I grab the keys from the hook. The familiar weight lands in my hand. Behind me, footsteps.
"Caroline."
I don't answer. I run. The screen door slams behind me. The gravel crunches beneath my boots.
"Caroline!" I hear Sebastian following me.
Then another voice. My mother's. "Oh, for heaven's sake?—"
"You need to leave." Sebastian's voice is cold. Colder than I've ever heard it.
"This isn't your concern anymore."
"My daughter is absolutely my concern."
"She stopped being your concern when you started treating her like a pawn."
Their voices blur together. I yank open the truck door. My hands shake so badly I almost drop the keys.
Come on. Come on. Please. The key finally slides into the ignition. The engine roars to life. Behind me, the shouting grows louder.
"I was trying to protect her!"
My mother's voice. "You were protecting yourself!"
"I love her!"
"So do I!" The words hit me like another blow.
I squeeze my eyes shut for one impossible second.
Then I throw the truck into reverse. Gravel sprays behind the tires.
The truck swings around. I don't look back.
My vision is already blurred by tears. I can barely see.
Every few seconds I have to wipe my eyes just to keep the road in focus.
The truck rounds another curve. The cabin disappears behind the trees.
So does Sebastian. I don't know where I'm going. I don't have a home anymore.