Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
REBECCA
Tobias
Hey. Are you free?
I instantly smile. What is it about this man that a single text can set off that fluttery feeling in my belly and make me grin wide enough for my cheeks to ache?
I’ve just put Isla to bed so, yes.
Tobias
Great. Fancy watching a movie? I’ll bring popcorn.
The popcorn sealed the deal.
Tobias
I’ll try not to be offended that popcorn is more popular than I am. Give me ten.
Hugging myself, I race into the bathroom and fluff up my hair a bit. I coat my lashes in mascara and pinch my cheeks to add a bit of color, then reach for a pale pink lipstick, only to change my mind and put it back in my makeup bag. If Tobias kisses me, I want him to taste my lips, not pink gloop.
God, I want him to kiss me.
I feel like a teenager brimming with excitement because the guy everyone fancies at school has set his sights on me. That didn’t happen, by the way. I wasn’t the popular girl at high school. Most of the time I tried to make myself invisible.
Hmm. Never thought that would be good practice for when Marcus came calling.
The old, familiar tightening of my chest briefly makes a comeback. I take a couple of deep breaths. Marcus isn’t here. He’s dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.
A knock comes at the door. Even though this is Tobias’s home and he can go anywhere he likes, he still respects my privacy.
It’s just one more tick on his pro list. As for the cons, I can’t think of any off the top of my head.
He’s perfect. Probably not true—everyone has faults—but whatever Tobias’s are, they don’t impact on Isla or me. There’s not a lot more I could ask for.
Other than for us to find a way through our trauma and come together as a real couple. I wouldn’t have thought it possible just a few short months ago, but now… I think we can, and we will. It’s only a matter of time.
I cross the living room and open the door. Butterflies swarm my stomach at the sight of Tobias holding a gigantic bucket of popcorn in one hand and two bottles of soda in the other.
“Your date is here.” He hands me the popcorn. “And me, of course.”
I laugh. “Daft thing. Come on in.”
He nudges the door closed with his hip, swipes the TV remote off the coffee table, and flops on the couch.
“Isla still okay in her own bedroom?”
“Yeah. She loves having her own space. Decorating it in Paw Patrol wallpaper certainly helped.”
“Better for you, too. Privacy is important.” He stares at me, his gaze prolonged. An arc of electricity passes between us. My stomach’s in knots, and my heart starts racing.
It’s me who breaks the spell. “What do you fancy watching?”
He blinks, his gaze lowering to my throat, where my skittering pulse is double-timing it. “If I said you, what would you say?”
A nervous giggle escapes me. “I’d say that’d make for a pretty boring evening.”
“Not from my perspective.”
I giggle again. What the hell is wrong with me? I sound like a bloody idiot. “You’re easily pleased.”
“Not true. I’m quite hard to please, actually.” He takes pity on me and my ridiculous reaction to his attention and turns on the TV. “What sort of films do you like?”
“Anything. You pick.”
He grabs a handful of popcorn, dropping the kernels into his mouth one at a time while searching through one of the streaming services. “This is supposed to be good. It’s a psych thriller. That okay?”
“Works for me.” I help myself to some popcorn, too.
We settle down to watch the movie and the moment between us passes.
The film is one of those that starts a bit slow, but as it gets going, and the tension ramps up, I’m glued to the screen. The suspense intensifies, and I find myself shifting closer and closer to Tobias. At a particularly scary moment, I turn my face into his chest.
“I can’t watch. Tell me when this part is over.”
His arm comes around my shoulders, and he pulls me closer to his body. “No need to be scared,” he whispers. “I’m here.”
There’s something in his tone that makes me look up at him. He’s no longer watching the TV. His eyes are on me. I could be wrong—God knows trusting my instincts isn’t something I feel I’m qualified for—but is that… lust?
“Wren.” His voice is low, husky, and sends a blazing trail of desire arrowing between my legs. Heat pools low in my belly, spreading through my limbs until I feel weightless. My heart pounds against my ribcage as a physical response to the earth shifting beneath my feet.
I’m scared. So scared of making the wrong move and causing him distress like I did underneath the oak tree.
“Tobias.” I tilt my head back, parting my lips in what I hope signals that I want this. I want him.
He moves glacially slow, his face inching closer to mine. His eyes drop to my lips and linger there.
“You can,” I murmur, sensing his hesitation. “I want you to.”
A groan rolls through his chest. He cups my cheek and kisses me tentatively. His mouth moves slowly over mine as though he’s relishing every second. I open beneath him and slide my tongue against his.
It’s all the encouragement he needs. I barely register him moving until I’m in his arms, and he’s striding into my bedroom. I cling to his shoulders, anchoring myself there because if I don’t, I’m going to fall.
Except I’ve already fallen. Hard.
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
He stretches out beside me and takes my hand.
“Me, too. I’m scared I’ll freak out when you touch me like I did on our picnic.
But I also feel differently to that day.
Since I confronted the Southalls and started seeing Lilian, there’s been this mental shift, like the wall I built in my mind has crumbled.
A wall that manifested itself with an aversion to touch, and now there are gaps and cracks in that wall, I can try to move on.
” He shakes his head. “I’m doing a terrible job of explaining it. I want to try, Wren. I have to try.”
“We can stop anytime. If you’re uncomfortable, just say the word.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He rises from the bed and unbuttons his shirt, sliding it from his shoulders.
I drink in the ripples of muscle as he moves, at the trail of hair snaking from his belly button to beneath his trousers.
At the breadth of his shoulders and his tapered waist, that irresistible V disappearing behind his waistband.
He’s a work of art.
He removes his trousers, leaving his boxers on. He’s aroused, erect. A streak of fear blazes through me, but when our eyes meet, it vanishes.
I can do this. I can. This is Tobias. He won’t hurt me.
I grip the hem of my T-shirt and pull it over my head. My jeans follow. Thank God I went for a matching set of underwear.
“Jesus.” He caresses the dip of my waist with the back of his hand. “This is how we both begin to heal. We’re ready to try, don’t you think?”
“If you’re ready, I’m ready.”
I kneel up and cradle his face, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. I move to the other side and kiss him there.
“God, you’re beautiful.” It’s a line, but coming from Tobias, it sounds more like raw honesty.
The ache inside me grows until it’s everywhere. “You’re shaking.”
“Yeah. Terrified I’m going to fuck this up.”
His vulnerability reaches deep inside me and settles there. He doesn’t hide it from me or beat his chest in some kind of bullshit masculinity.
“You won’t fuck it up.”
I reach behind me and unclasp my bra, letting it fall into my lap. His eyes lock on my breasts. I take his hand and put it over my right breast. He closes his eyes and blows out an unsteady breath. I run my hands over his chest, watching him closely for any signs he’s uncomfortable. There are none.
His kisses start on my neck, each one sending pleasurable tremors through me until I’m lost in a haze of lust. Every brush of his lips, sweep of his tongue, murmured word of encouragement draws me deeper under his spell.
He peels my knickers down my legs, his eyes on mine, watching, I presume, for any sign of panic. I give him a lazy smile and drop my gaze to his erection.
“Your turn. I want to see.”
There’s something incredibly erotic about how he slides his thumbs into his waistband and eases them over his hips. His cock is thick and long, the head engorged, the slit weeping.
I wait for the choking feeling of panic to grip me, but it doesn’t come. Fluttery feelings swamp my chest, my clit throbbing. Instinct has me parting my legs.
Tobias drops his gaze. “Fuck,” he whispers, licking his lips.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Better than okay. Are you?”
“Same here.”
His large hands land on the insides of my thighs, and he pushes them wider. He bends his head and sweeps his tongue over my folds.
“Fuuuuck.”
I feel his smile against my skin. “The word of the evening.” He licks me again. “Still okay?”
“God, yes.”
Two fingers slide inside me, and his teeth graze my clit.
I clamp both hands over my mouth to stop me from screaming.
Friction builds with every touch, a delicious heat that makes my toes curl.
Pleasure rolls through me in waves, each one stronger than the last. I raise my hips, chasing my release.
Tobias slides his hands beneath me, holding me in place.
Sensation builds and builds until I’m not sure I can take anymore.
“Please,” I whisper, and then I’m coming, coming so hard, the room tilts. It takes all my strength not to cry out, but somehow, I manage it.
Tobias kisses my stomach, my breasts, then my lips. “If you want, we can stop there.”
“Do you?”
“No. I want to fuck you more than I’ve wanted to do anything in my life.”
I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my heels into his glutes. He drops his head onto my shoulder with a soft sigh. The head of his cock nudges my entrance, and he slowly pushes himself inside.
The stretch, the feeling of fullness, is sheer bliss.
When he’s all the way in, he stops. His gaze finds mine. “How does it feel?”
“Incredible. Are you okay?”
“More than okay. Are you?”
The constant checking in, reassuring each other, warms every part of me. “Yes, now, please move. I’ll beg if I have to.”
He half chuckles, biting his lip. “Maybe you can beg next time.” Withdrawing slowly, he inches his way back inside me, getting deeper and deeper with every thrust. He doesn’t hammer at me, just a languid roll of his hips as he pulls out, then pushes back in.
“Harder,” I encourage. “Hard and deep, and fuck, yes, slow.” He rolls his hips again, his pelvis brushing my clit. “Yes. That. Keep doing… ah, keep doing that.”
His eyes are on me as his movements gradually get less controlled. My body arches toward him, the pulse between my thighs throbbing, insistent, impossible to ignore.
“I’m… Christ, I’m coming again.” Liquid heat floods my veins, and I sink into the mattress, feeling weightless yet grounded at the same time.
Tobias grunts, thrusts into me one more time, then lets out a sigh I’ll never forget, full of satisfaction and relief. He buries his face in my neck, and he stays there for a few moments, panting.
I’m coated in sweat, and my heart’s beating so fast I expect it to snap a rib as easily as a burnt twig. He kisses me, then rolls to the side, one hand resting on his heaving stomach.
“Oh, my God.”
I put my hand on top of his. “Are you all right?”
“Jesus, Wren. I’m… I’m… I never thought it would be like that. Fucking blew my mind.” He laughs, low and sexy. “And my load.”
I grin. “Are you sure you were a virgin? Because let me tell you, you know what you’re doing.”
“I’ve watched enough people having sex to know what good, and bad, looks like.” He rolls onto his side and rests his hand on the curve of my waist. “So, it was really okay?”
“No. It wasn’t okay. It was unbelievable. I never knew sex could be like that. It wasn’t just the physical pleasure. It… I… we connected.”
He nods. “I felt it, too. I was fucking terrified I’d freak out. Or you would.” He cradles my face, gazing deep into my eyes. “You made it so easy. I definitely didn’t hurt you?”
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“Thank you.” He leans forward and kisses me.
“For coming into my life. For being so fucking patient and understanding. I’ve always thought I had my family to rely on, to talk to, but what I have with you, it’s different.
Deeper. I didn’t know what I was missing, and now that I do, I’m never letting you go. ”
I snuggle closer, burrowing into his arms. He trails his fingertips up and down my spine, over the bumpy ugliness of the scars Marcus gave me.
“Horrible, aren’t they?”
His jaw clenches. “When Frank put a bullet in him, I hope he knew death was inevitable. I hope he was terrified at the end. I only wish I could have stopped him from ever hurting you in the first place.”
I press a kiss to his throat where his pulse is hammering. “But you’re making it better, Tobias. Every day, it gets easier, the memories fade, even if the scars remain.”
“If you want, we can go to see a plastic surgeon and have them take care of these.”
I take a second to consider whether I want that, then shake my head. “No. They remind me of what I’ve survived and how resilient I am. Without them, I wouldn’t have found you. I never thought I’d be able to let another man touch me, then along you came and changed my life.”
We fall into a comfortable silence, content just to be in each other’s arms. With Marcus, sex was a physical act, a way to exert his power. With Tobias, I’ve experienced true intimacy between two people who connected on a far deeper level than simply physical.
“Have you told your dad yet about Ava?”
“No.” He braces both arms behind his head and stares at the ceiling. “I discussed it with Lilian at my last session.”
“What did she say?”
“That I’ll know when the time is right.” He sighs deeply. “The problem is I know my dad. He’ll blame himself, and I’m not ready for that.”
I don’t reassure him because he’s right, his dad probably will blame himself. It’s called being a parent. For a long time, I blamed myself for what Marcus did to Isla. If I’d found the courage to leave when the abuse first started happening, my little girl wouldn’t have suffered the trauma she did.
“Any news from the investigator?”
He sighs. “Not yet.”
“What if they run?”
“Let them try. I’ll track them down. There isn’t anywhere on Earth they can hide where my family or our associates won’t be able to find them.”
I hope he’s right. I can’t bear the thought of them getting away with what they did to him.
His arms tighten around me, protective without being confining. It's a distinction I'm still learning. "Go to sleep, Wren," he whispers. "I've got you."
I close my eyes, and for the first time in five years, I let myself drift off in someone else's arms without fear of what I'll wake up to.