“Yes, yes, yes,” she panted in rhythm to my thrusts.
Whether she was agreeing with me or begging for more, I didn’t know, but I chose to believe it was the former while also giving her the latter. I continued my assault with one driving effort—in, in, in, in, knocking against her clit with each thrust. In, in, in. As far inside her as I could go. As far inside her as I could be. Until we were no longer she and I, each with our own history and baggage, but one entity, our pasts both part of the same story, one with a complicated but very happy ending.
She climaxed first, her cunt clenching tight like it didn’t bear to let me go. I pressed through her snug opening, meaning to just stay inside her while she came. But she felt too good, and she was too beautiful beneath me, all wrung out and tortured, and I came too, the pleasure starting at the base of my spine and igniting every neural pathway as fast as a lightning strike.
I hovered over her, spent and unmoored. It felt like I’d released much more than my cum inside her. Like I’d been relieved of the weight of something much heavier and burdensome.
Fuck. She wasn’t supposed to be like this.
But she was, and I loved her, and I would do everything in my power to keep her mine. Even if it meant setting down my ego and trying something new. Like partnership. Without resentment. Without any barriers between us.
I pushed off her, tucked myself away, then dropped onto the couch behind me and watched Celia’s chest rise and fall as her breaths slowed and she pulled herself together. When she was steady, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at me.
She was a mess—her hair all over the place, her mascara smudged, her lipstick smeared. She was gorgeous.
“It wasn’t fair to expect your trust when I have betrayed it on more than one occasion.” I was the one wearing the most clothing, but I felt strangely the more naked of us both.
She nodded once, taking it in. Accepting.
Then she peeled herself off the ottoman and climbed on top of me, straddling my lap. “So now we try to do better,” she said. Plain and simple. So easy it would be impossible to screw up.
I grabbed her face with both hands and pressed my mouth to hers. It wasn’t as erotic as our earlier kisses had been, but it was somehow just as intense.
The sun was streaking its last rays across the sky when our lips finally parted. “You taste tobacco-y,” she said. “Have you been puffing cigars?”
“I took up smoking, actually. Don’t worry, I’ve already quit.” I’d tossed the pack as soon as I’d hung up with Camilla.
“Damn right you’ve already quit.”
I smiled at her reprimand. “Oh, but I do happen to have two cigars in the inside pocket of my jacket for later. I bought some high-quality Cubans today thinking we might celebrate Ron’s sentencing. I should have been here when you got the news. Are you happy?”
“Happy is a strange word for it.” She shifted from my lap to sit beside me, leaning back into my arms when I angled toward her. “I’m glad, yes, but I don’t know that his sentencing changes where I am with what he did to me. I’m only better because of you.”
“I’m not taking all of that credit. It was you, too.” I stroked my hand up and down her bare arm, enjoying the weight of her at my side so much that I hesitated before bringing up the delicate subject. “How did today go? With the journals.”
She tensed, sitting up more. “It went okay. It was probably best you weren’t around, even though I could have used your support.”
“I’m here now.”
“You are, and I have to ask…You knew I would eventually.”
“What am I going to do about Pierce?” I was sure that was the question without confirming, but I needed her to know I was on the same page.
Being on the same page didn’t make the question any easier to answer. I felt oddly less concerned with Hudson Pierce than I had in days, but he was still there at the back of my mind, waiting to be dealt with.
Right now, though, I was still more concerned about Celia’s part in the equation. “Well,” I removed my arm from around her. “Since we’re trying to be better about discussing these things, what are you afraid that I’ll do?”
I studied her profile as she took a deep breath in, then let it out. She kept her eyes straight ahead, not looking at me as she spoke. “You could try to ruin his business, which scares me because of what he might do to you in return. Or you could try to go after his family, and that scares me for the same reasons. But also it scares me because I don’t want you to be the type of man who would do that. I’m afraid you already have done that.”
I reached out and turned her face toward me so she could see my eyes. “I’m not the person who’s terrorizing the Pierces. I promise on Cleo’s life.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t.” I shook my head, not wanting her to feel guilty no matter how much the accusation stung. “I hate that you had to ask. But I also understand why you did.”
“That makes me feel a lot better.”
“Good.” I swept my thumb across her bottom lip before I let her face go. “Do you believe me?”
“I do.” And I believed her. She kept her gaze on mine. “I’m also scared of what you might do to Hudson personally.”
“You mean you’re worried I might hurt him physically.”
Her nod was barely perceptible. “You told me you had those men beat up, the ones who scammed Hagan when he was a teenager.”
“I did do that. That was a unique situation.” Violence was generally not my preferred method. It was too easy. Over too quickly. It didn’t hurt the way real ruin did.
“Okay,” she said, and I could feel her gathering courage, could see the steely resolve in her eyes when she finally had as much as she needed. “But you killed Camilla’s husband. Didn’t you?”
We were in this now, both of us, honest and open and trusting, no more secrets, no more lies.
So I answered with the truth. “Yes. I did.”
Sixteen
Celia
I tried to swallow and couldn’t.
I tried again as I wiped my clammy hands on my open shirt. “Okay,” I finally managed to say.
And then nothing because what was there to say after that? I was still grappling with what to feel. On the one hand, Edward had shared something with me that I thought he never would share. On the other hand, what he’d shared wasn’t something I necessarily wanted to know.
But I wanted to know all of Edward, didn’t I?
Then why did I have the sudden urge to run? It warred with my instinct to stay.
“Hey,” he said, taking my hand in his. I watched as he ran his thumb over my knuckles, his touch both warm and heavy despite the light strokes. If he knew the battle going on in my head, he didn’t address it. “If I’m going to tell you this—and I am—we’re going to need a drink.”
“Like a session, but for you? That’s serious.” As if the fact he’d murdered his brother-in-law wasn’t serious enough.
“More like it’s a story that’s hard to tell and alcohol makes things easier.”