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Only then, finally, does he enter me. His eyes flutter halfway closed as he thrusts, but they spring open again immediately. The heat in their depths is growing stronger every second, warming their color to a dark cerulean.
And when he moves, the color only deepens. His breath comes faster, and mine’s so ragged I feel like it hardly comes at all. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t even kiss me, because leaning forward would break the connection between our eyes. I twine my legs around his, locking myself to him. His fingers tighten on mine, and I squeeze back. Energy passes through every place we touch, every place our bodies twist around each other.
Neither of us says a word. We move together on the cushions, furiously and more passionately with every thrust, until I know nothing but the wild joys of his body and the fierceness in his eyes. He never breaks my gaze, not even when the sweat drips from his face down upon my cheeks and lips. Not even when my nails dig into the backs of his palms. Not even when my pleasure crests and I cry out.
He’s still looking into me when his own climax comes. His eyes widen slightly with the force of it, and his body tremors on top of mine as he gives me those last desperate strokes.
Only when he’s given every last bit of his lust does he lean down and take my mouth again.
And for the first time in a long time, I know what it feels like to want to give everything to someone else.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
We make love again that night, and we drift in and out of sleep between our explorations of each other’s bodies. It’s the best sleep I’ve had in recent memory. When I finally wake up, the sky has lightened a little—just enough to signal that dawn might not be too far away. It hasn’t stopped raining, but it’s still a light, peaceful drizzle.
Ward stirs beside me, as if somehow in his sleep he’s sensed me waking beside him. We’re still on the chaise lounge, our arms and legs twisted around each other, and his eyes drift slowly open. A smile curls across his lips, and he tilts his face forward and leaves a soft kiss on my temple.
“Can I ask you something?” I say softly.
“Mmhm.” He’s moving his mouth across my hair now, as if making up for the lost kisses during our earlier embrace.
There are so many things I want to say. To confess. But now that the moment’s here, I’m terrified. My tongue doesn’t want to move. Somehow, while I slept, I lost a bit of that emotional intimacy I felt between us last night. I need to find it again.
I take a deep breath. “Why are you here, if you hate it so much?”
His lips pause. I didn’t want to ruin this moment by overstepping my bounds, but before I completely change the way he looks at me, I want to know exactly where he’s coming from.
I pull back slightly from him so I can look him in the eyes.
“I mean, I know this is a good opportunity,” I say. “But you don’t seem happy. You don’t get along with anyone here. And you seem to loathe Carolson. I mean, I understand he’s a rich douche, but…”
I want to tell him what Asher said, but I don’t want him to think that’s why I’m bringing this up. I want to know the truth for me. For us. Whatever “us” is. And I want to know it for him—so I can help him heal from it, just as he’s been trying to help me.
I watch his face as he tries to put together his response.
“You’re not going to believe this,” he says finally.
“Of course I’ll believe it.”
“No, I mean that it’s going to sound ridiculous. At least ridiculous outside of a soap opera.”
You should meet my family, I think. But now I’m curious. I prop myself up on my elbow.
Ward rolls over onto his back and gazes up at the ceiling. “So, you know about my mom.”
I nod, not understanding.
“Her last year was rough. She couldn’t really work anymore, and the bills were piling up.” He sighs. “I did what I could. I’d been saving up. I was hoping I’d have enough in a few years to go back to school. Study architecture and all that.”
I reach out and touch his arm.
“But most of that money ended up going to her bills. I made sure her mortgage was paid, stuff like that. I didn’t want her to end up homeless if she… if she pulled through. In the end, it didn’t matter. Her assets were all sold off to pay off her debt.”
I know how that goes, I want to say. But I don’t interrupt him.
“So I was broke,” he continues. Then he shakes his head. “I say that like it’s some kind of excuse. It’s not. I couldn’t care less about the money.” He exhales loudly then rolls over onto his side, facing me again.
I search his eyes, but I can’t wade through all the emotion there.
“My mom said that knowing she was going to die changed her,” he says softly. “I remember her saying at one point that it was the best thing that could’ve happened to her because it made her see the world differently. It made her realize how blessed she was. And how stupid she’d been for holding on to past pain and regrets.” He reaches out and takes my hand. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but she contacted my father. Told him she forgave him and thanked him for giving her the best thing in her life.”
“You,” I whisper.
He nods. “I didn’t realize she was in touch with him at all until the funeral. This guy walks up to me and starts talking to me and I knew. Immediately.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just strokes the back of my hand with his thumb.
“What did he say?” I prompt after a minute. “Who was he?”
But even as I ask the question, it hits me like a sledgehammer.
Holy crap.
He nods grimly, realizing I’ve worked it out. “Edward fucking Carolson.”
Holy friggin’ crap.
I should’ve realized this ages ago. I mean, it’s so obvious now. His anger toward Carolson was always so personal.
“I can’t…” I sit up. “I had no idea.”
Oh, God—is this what Asher suspected? If word gets out that Carolson has a secret illegitimate son, the press will have a field day. Especially considering Ward has a job here at Huntington Manor, the high-profile project that’s launched Carolson into the public eye.
“Who else knows?” I ask him.
He rubs his forehead. “Haymore, for one. Carolson made it very clear that I was to have and keep this job.”
That’s okay. Haymore would never risk his job by blabbing Carolson’s secrets. And it makes perfect sense now—this was why Ward was never fired, in spite of his behavior. It explains why Carolson didn’t do anything that day at the spa. But thinking of the fights makes me nervous.
