I shake my head, unsure where he’s going, when suddenly, he grabs the knife from breakfast, throws my shirt further up, and grips the material on my hip. He slides the blade against my skin, making me shiver as it goes beneath my knickers, and with one quick slash, he cuts them free. I have to lift my hips as he pulls them away, and then they are in his hand. He shoves them into his pocket and tugs my shirt up higher.
To my belly, until my pussy is exposed for everyone to see. Closing my eyes, I drop my head back, arching my chest into the air as I pant. It feels so wrong, too fucking naughty, that I can’t even begin to describe how I feel.
I sense their eyes on us, I sense their eyes on me. It only makes my desire stronger. I feel beautiful, sexy, and powerful, and when Tyler’s fingers slide down my wet heat and slip inside my pussy, I’m taken to heaven like the angel he calls me.
His mouth is there too then, his lips closing around my clit and sucking. The force jerks my hips up as I grind into his mouth with a groan. His fingers curl inside me, dragging along my walls and the nerves there. He keeps the pressure on my clit until I reach down and tangle my hand in his hair.
“Tyler, please, please,” I beg, unsure what I’m pleading for, but it’s always more with him. He releases my clit, flicking it with his tongue over and over before dragging the flattened edge down my folds and dipping it inside me.
“Angel,” he groans against my pussy as I raise my hips and grind restlessly against his face.
“Oh, God, I’m so close, please, please,” I almost yell as his lips wrap around my clit again, this time with a hint of teeth, as his fingers fuck in and out of me. The wet sound is loud, even over the blowing of the wind. The sun beats down on me, warming my already overheated skin.
Heart slamming, belly clenching, I give my pleasure to him as he drives me higher and higher, until those fingers slam into me at the same time he bites my clit, and I scream my release for everyone to hear. I clench around his fingers and yank his head closer as I ride through the waves of ecstasy flowing through my veins.
He licks me through it, easing the sting of the bite, but it also extends my pleasure until I have to push him away, breathing heavily as my whole body shivers from the force. Sitting back, he grins at me, his lips and chin coated in my cream, and with gentle fingers, he drags my shirt back down, covering me before picking me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he heads inside, lax, letting him do whatever he wants. I’m still coming down from my release.
He carries me upstairs and lays me on the bed, where I just relax with a satisfied smile. He comes back with a flannel and cleans me up before climbing between my thighs and laying his head on my belly with a grin as he peers up at me. His hand grips my side, making me feel tiny and dwarfed by his huge body. Those dark eyes are so filled with happiness, I almost buzz from it as I reach down and stroke his hair.
He sighs loudly, nuzzling my stomach. “I love you, Angel.”
“I love you too,” I murmur as we just relax.
Just then, his phone rings. He groans and releases his hold on me as he pulls it from his shorts and answers it, pressing it to his ear. “Hello?” he greets lazily.
He listens for a moment, then sits bolt upright. His face pales, and his eyes fill with fear as they meet mine. “I’ll be right there, thank you,” he whispers and hangs up, staring down at the phone in shock.
Sitting up, I cover his hand with a frown. “Tyler, what’s wrong? Who was it?”
He doesn’t answer for a moment, so I squeeze his hand and he jumps, blinking as he looks up at me. “The hospital. Justin was in an accident.”
Tyler
I barely remember leaving the house. Lexi is driving because my hands were shaking too much. She even put my shoes on for me and locked up, and now she’s weaving in and out of traffic to get me there. No matter what has happened with Justin, she knows he’s my son and I love him.
Fear fills me—terror, actually. They wouldn’t tell me how bad it was on the phone.
The drive to the hospital feels like it takes an eternity, but in reality, we are there in under twenty minutes, and I’m rushing into the A&E, unsure where else to go. I queue up nervously and tell the kind nurse about the call. She instructs me to take a seat while she finds out more information.
I collapse into a sticky plastic chair, ignoring everyone else here. Those who are injured and sick. Lexi stands before me nervously, but I can’t bring myself to talk. Guilt, terror, and worry war within me, until I feel like I might scream or cry or both.
He’s my son.
“Want me to go?” she asks hesitantly.
I shake my head and drag her closer, holding her for comfort. “Don’t leave me, stay,” I beg.
“Okay, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” she promises, stroking along my back. “He will be okay, Tyler, he will. Trust in the doctors.”
I nod and press my head to her stomach, and she holds me as we wait. How can I go from such happiness barely half an hour ago to bone-deep fear? There is a horrible feeling in my stomach, a really horrible feeling. The one only a parent gets, and I don’t think he’s going to be okay.
When a doctor crouches next to me, his face sad as he takes my hand, my heart cracks. “Mr. Phillips.” He looks to Lexi then and back to me. “Would you like to come with me?”
“Is he okay?” I croak. I pull back from Lexi slightly, but take her hand when she tries to step away. She reassures me with a squeeze as the doctor licks his lips nervously.
“Come on, let’s talk in private,” he suggests, and stands and looks to Lexi again. “Will you be coming, miss?”
Lexi watches me as I stumble to my feet and drag her closer. “Yes,” I almost snap and then wince, rubbing my face. “Sorry, I’m just really worried.”
“Understandable, please follow me, Mr. Phillips, and I can answer all of your questions.” He leads me to a room farther into the hospital.
The room isn’t too big, with two pink chairs opposite a sofa, a table in the middle, and a painting on the wall. He sits on the chair, and we take the sofa. A moment later, the door opens and an older woman enters. “Mr. Phillips, I’m Rebecca.” I shake her hand as she sits on the sofa, and I look between them.
“Can I see him? Is he okay?” I fire out harshly.
“First, Mr. Phillips, is there any other family we should call?” Rebecca asks.
“His mum is in Paris, she won’t be awake,” I murmur as the bad feeling increases. “Where is my son?” I almost yell.
The doctor leans forward, his face saddened, and in that moment, I know…but I need to hear it. “Mr. Phillips, we are very sorry, but Justin didn’t make it.”
Didn’t make it…
He’s dead?
I must say it out loud, because he winces. “I’m afraid so. It seems he was drunk behind the wheel. I’m so sorry to tell you he crashed into a barrier and the car flipped. He was brought here, where he was worked on and rushed to surgery to repair internal bleeding, but I’m afraid he suffered a cardiac arrest on the table and didn’t survive,” he informs me, but everything else fades away except those words.
Dead.
Didn’t survive.