She gave a sigh and lay down again, snuggling closer to me this time. “As long as he didn’t make any other threats…I guess I can live with that.”
Eleven
Constance
I’d just pulled the pan out of the oven when the doorbell rang.
“Who’s that?” Claire asked, looking up from her homework at the dining table.
Benton sat in the living room, paying bills and doing paperwork in just his sweatpants in front of the fire. “Uncle Bleu.”
“Uncle Bleu?” Claire asked. “I’ll have to introduce him to Bleu!” She slid off the chair and ran off.
He got to his feet and crossed the living room like a Roman soldier, his muscles his armor, his strength his weapon. The pants were low on his waist, so the vein that ran from below his belly button and underneath the fabric was visible—and sexy. Unaware of my stare, he walked out of the room and disappeared into the foyer.
He let his brother inside, exchanged a few words, and then appeared in my view.
Bleu looked at me and gave me a nod. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I said back, not sure what else to say because I really didn’t know him. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“I hope so since I’m watching Claire tonight.”
“You are?” Claire held up her bear to him. “Guess what I named him?”
He took it and looked him over, as if there would be a tag somewhere. “Grizzly?”
“No,” Claire said. “Bleu!”
Benton clapped him on the shoulder. “Spitting image, huh?”
His brother flashed him a glare.
Benton hadn’t told me about these plans, and I wasn’t even sure why he needed Bleu at all. If he needed to leave the house, we were fine on our own. “Are you going somewhere?” My attention was turned to Benton, who stood there looking hard as rock.
Bleu took Claire back to the dining table and asked her about her homework. They fell into conversation, oblivious to us standing near the kitchen.
Benton held my gaze for a while before he cracked a faint smile. “We’re going somewhere.”
“We…?”
“I’m taking you to dinner.”
“What?” The outburst exploded on its own because I was so surprised. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“You?”
His eyebrows raised.
“I just… It doesn’t seem like your thing.”
“It’s not.”
“Well, don’t do it just for me—”
“We doing this or not?”
I gave a nod. “Sure…I’d love to.”
We walked together on the sidewalk, side by side, me wrapped up in a coat and scarf while he wore a long-sleeved shirt like it was a cozy sweater. He was in dark jeans that hung low on his hips, his muscles thighs stretching the denim. If there were a photographer in front of us, Benton would look like a model doing a shoot right there on the sidewalk.
“This is weird.”
He gave me a side glance.
“I think it’s the first time we’ve been out of the house without Claire…except when we drop her off at school in the morning.”
“Bleu will take care of her.”
“I’m not worried about that. It’s just…different.”
We stopped at the corner then crossed the street. There was a little bistro there, a nice place but not too nice.
“You know…” I stopped on the sidewalk before we could reach the hostess podium.
He turned back to me, his powerful arms by his sides, his blue eyes digging deep into mine.
“I’m happy just checking into a hotel room for a couple of hours…” Our relationship was anything but normal, so I didn’t need to sit in a restaurant and have a date like a normal couple who’d met at a bar or something. Our circumstances set us apart from everyone else. What we had was deeper than any conversation we could have over a bottle of wine and candlelight.
His stare lingered on my face for a while as he considered it. “You don’t want to have dinner with me?”
“That’s not what I said—”
“But that’s how it seems.” His hard eyes pierced me like he was the hammer and I was the nails. “Why?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to—”
“Why?”
I glanced behind him, seeing the couples talking quietly with one another, the sounds of the guitar coming from inside the restaurant. “This isn’t us…”
He pressed me with his look, wanting more.
“We aren’t some couple that met each other online. Met in a bar. Whatever. And it’s fine that it’s not us. What we have…is deeper than a first date. There’s already so much between us. I know this isn’t your thing, and it’s not my thing either.”
“You didn’t use to go on dates before all of this happened?”
“Yes. But that was before…and now I have you.”
His hands slid into his pockets as he remained in front of me.
“I hope I never have to go on a date again…” I didn’t realize what I said until it was out in the open between us. It just came out, pure honesty, feelings so raw they ached. It shouldn’t have been said, but it was done now, and I had no idea how he would react.
He didn’t react at all.
Now I couldn’t take it back. It was just floating in the air between us, hanging there like a corpse on a noose.
He stepped closer, his eyes focused on mine as he drew near. He stopped just in front of me, his eyes dropping to my lips. One of his massive arms circled my lower back, and he tugged me into him before he laid a hot kiss on my mouth. “Let’s go.”
It was a beautiful suite at a boutique hotel just a few blocks from his apartment. A four-poster bed, with white wooden dressers against the wall. The sheets were French linens, soft to the touch but also durable. Small pots of fresh flowers were everywhere, making it feel like summer instead of bitter winter.
He got me in the center of the bed, his heavy body directly on top of me, the heat from his skin traveling through the air and reaching my bare skin. Before he got his clothes off and came close, I was cold, lying on chilled sheets with pointed nipples. But once his hips were between my thighs and he smothered me against the mattress, he brought the summer sun into the wintry room.
His blue eyes took me in as he guided himself inside me, his head coated in my arousal so the entry was easy, flawless. He pushed through the initial tightness and sank deeper, invading all of me like a conqueror who already knew the lay of the land. He was a quiet lover, but his eyes were loud, and now they tightened in pleasure once he was fully inside me.
I was the opposite. I was full of gasps and moans, loud tears and sharp nails.
Once he got going, everything else faded from existence.
Forneus wasn’t following me. The camp never existed. I didn’t kill a faceless man with a knife. Beatrice wasn’t mutilated like an animal. None of that happened. He made everything go away every time he touched me, every time he was buried deep inside me.