Home > Breathe Me : Smith and Belle(17)

Breathe Me : Smith and Belle(17)
Author: Geneva Lee

I stopped before I brought up Alexander. Truthfully, I was sure he’d had a choice. I knew what Smith would have done in the same situation. He’d kill anyone that hurt his family without hesitation—even if it was someone he cared about. But that didn’t make David’s death or how it happened any easier to swallow. We could only hope that someday the brothers would find a way to move past the tragedy.

“He’ll come back,” I said, needing to believe it. Everyone deserved a second chance. No matter what they’d done. “Send him the video.”

She thought about it a moment before she pulled up the video and sent it. When she was done, she laid the phone on a side table and reached down to pick up Wills, who’d begun to fuss on the floor. “So, no induction?”

“I asked,” I said, feeling my frustration creep back up. “She said it’s not recommended without medical necessity. I told her I was going crazy but, apparently, that’s not enough of a reason.”

“Trust me, you don’t want a c-section,” Clara said, smiling in a way I’d come to expect from a mother who’d already experienced the blessed event of childbirth. “Maybe there’s something you and Smith could do…”

“Believe me, we’ve tried.”

“I figured,” she said sympathetically.

“Of course, he’s treating me like I’m fragile. Maybe that’s why it’s not working.”

Clara bit her lower lip, glancing over at Elizabeth who was busily pulling books of William’s shelves. “Prefer something a bit darker?”

“Rougher, at least.” I rolled my eyes. “I could really use a break, but I think he’s worried that he’ll take things too far.”

“That’s what safe words are for.”

I flinched in surprise. Clara and I had danced around the particulars of our sex lives for years now, but we both knew we were dealing with dominant men. Still, given that she’d once blushed at the mention of missionary position, I couldn’t help being a bit shocked to hear using a term like that.

“Don’t look shocked,” she said. “I found a collar in your closet once.”

I sighed at the reminder of how much things had changed.

“Tell him you want it like that,” she advised me, seeing the disappointment on my face. “Remind him that a little kink isn’t going to hurt the baby.”

“I just need a break,” I admitted to her.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” she asked gently.

Talking wasn't going to solve this. I'd tried that already, but I couldn't deny Smith had a right to be worried. “There’s nothing to talk about. I have six feet of imposing black man following me around.”

“Brex is sweet though,” she said, “and hot.”

“I knew you thought he was hot,” a deep voice cut in. Clara’s eyes closed tightly, embarrassed to be caught by her husband. “He’ll be so pleased.”

She swiveled in her seat like a top, a look of horror dashing across her face. “You are not going to tell him!”

“I won’t,” he said with a smirk. “But I’m not the one he’s babysitting these days.”

Clara turned pleading eyes on me. “Don’t tell him.”

“No promises,” I said, laughing despite myself.

“What are you doing here?” Clara demanded. “Sneaking up on me? Shouldn’t you be running the country?”

“Apparently, I should be concerned that my wife finds one of my best friends hot.” But, for once, he looked anything but. The truth was that Clara only had eyes for him, and he only had eyes for her. As different as my marriage was from theirs, I recognized the total adoration they had for one another. I’d experienced it myself.

“Go back to being king. This is girl time.”

“I came to do this.” He leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on her mouth that lasted just long enough that I found myself staring. When he broke away, she gazed wistfully at him as he leaned down to kiss Wills on the forehead. “And to tell my son, I was proud of him. But now I have to get back. Very busy running the country and such.”

“Sure,” Clara said dryly.

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Alexander said huskily, and a knot inside me tightened. I really was going to have to push Smith to be a little more demanding tonight.

When he finally left, Clara watched the door for a few seconds before clearing her throat. “What were we talking about?”

“My hot bodyguard,” I reminded her, and she winced.

“New subject,” she said. “Not that it matters, because he’s completely in love with Georgia.”

“Georgia?” I repeated.

Clara looked as though this was old news. “Head over heels. I think she loves him, too, but she won’t let herself be with him.”

I thought of Smith and how broken he was when we first met. “Maybe she just needs time.”

But we both knew it wasn’t a matter of time. We’d both had whirlwind romances when we’d found the right person. Suddenly, I found myself feeling sad for Brex, who’d put up with all my sass and brought me a chocolate biscuit for breakfast. And Clara was right, he was hot. “What exactly is she waiting for? I don’t think guys get more perfect.”

“I think love is a lot like finding the right key,” Clara said as though she’d given this some thought. “When it comes to the heart, more than one key might fit, but only the right one unlocks it.” She shook herself out of her dreamy haze, frowning when she saw my pout. “What?”

I sighed before sheepishly confessing, “Now, I’m just thinking about handcuffs.”

 

 

9

 

 

Smith

 

 

I showed myself into the King’s study, knowing full-well that it would likely be enough to have my security clearance revoked. Taking a seat in an upholstered wingback, I had to admit I appreciated Buckingham’s sense of tradition where comfort was concerned. The fire flickering in the hearth made the room feel rather homey. It certainly lessened the sense of formality and occasion that accompanied more public meetings with the young King. I had been here a number of times and knew my way around the space. I also knew that Alexander would be returning from his audience with the Prime Minister shortly. I’d been working with Alexander up until a few weeks ago. It wasn’t that we were on poor terms. Our relationship was almost entirely transactional and always had been. I’d come to him with information regarding his father’s death. At the time, I’d only wanted to see Hammond put behind bars, so I could finally claim my life as my own. But the situation had proven more complicated than either of us had foreseen.

Alexander paused in the doorway, his clear eyes narrowing dangerously when he spotted me sitting next to his fire. He closed the door to his office, moving to his desk without so much as a word.

“I asked for a meeting,” I said by way of explanation.

“One usually waits for said meeting to be scheduled.” He shuffled a few papers around before giving up the ruse of being too busy to join me. Still, his lips turned down as he walked over to a brass cart and poured himself a bourbon. He held up the crystal decanter in offering.

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