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You love Ryan and he loves you too. He belongs to you too, now.Did he mean that? Does he have any idea what that means to me?I wanted my child to always have the influence of a good woman’s touch, because I had never known that and I knew it was important.

If you let me in—if you let me just get my foot in the door, I swear that I will work my ass into the ground so that you never have a reason to regret it. I swear to Christ, Rory. I’ll never give you a reason to regret it.The words keep coming and my body trembles. I slide away from Noah—just enough so I don’t disturb him. I try to shut them down, but all of it just keeps going around and around in my brain until I get to the one, that last night I didn’t take in at all. The one thing he said that I didn’t pay attention to at all.I’m a fucking asshole, but I love you...

I loved you then, Rory. I love you more now.Those words stick in my head now, and they don’t let me go.

Noah hurt me. He hurt me more than I thought was possible, more than King ever could—just because I never gave anyone what I gave Noah. But, can I really blame him for reacting the way he did? What man wouldn’t if he thought he took steps to prevent pregnancy—especially if women like Vicki were what he was exposed to? It doesn’t fix everything, but it goes a long way toward soothing the hurt.

I tilt my head so I can see Noah. He’s still asleep; his face, much paler than it was back in Montana, is at least peaceful. His dark lashes are fanned out, his hair still pulled back, but sleep has let some of it break free from its hold.

I love Noah. I’m pretty sure I will always love him. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. If King ever gets a hold of me again, I won’t have a tomorrow. He’ll kill me for taking Ryan away. Which is fair, because if I see him again, I’m going to try and kill him. He deserves to die and if I’m the one that sends him to hell… I won’t lose a minute of sleep over it.

I make up my mind. Maybe I’m doing something that is a huge mistake. Maybe I will regret it at some point, but right now… I want Noah. I want to be with him. I want… No. I need to feel his touch. I need his arms around me and his body on mine. I need him deep inside of me and just for a little while, I really need to pretend I’m whole again.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach down and find the drawstring to Noah’s gym pants, loosening it. I look up at him, expecting him to be looking at me. His head moves on the pillow, but he doesn’t wake. I’m glad. I think if he woke up, I’d lose my nerve. I’m able to maneuver so that I can get his pants down just a little. I want more, but I’ll take this. I’m just glad that he’s wearing this kind of pants, instead of jeans, during his recovery. I glance up at Noah’s face and he’s still asleep. His forehead has wrinkled and his lips move a little before he burrows a little more into his pillow. I smile, because in sleep he’s still sexy, but somehow, he still manages to pull off being cute too.

I slide my hand down into his pants. The heat I feel there makes me tremble and I want to groan as I encircle his shaft. I close my eyes from the pure pleasure of it. I never thought I’d be able to touch him again, even after finding out he was still alive I thought he was lost to me forever. Maybe that’s what makes this feel so special, but, for whatever reason, I’m grateful.

Noah is semi-hard and as my hand moves slowly up his heated shaft, I can feel him grow. His cock stretches, comes to life quickly, jerking in my hand as I squeeze him. I hear him above me, moaning. The sound is muffled and thick with sleep. I want to look up and see him, but I don’t—I’m afraid if I do, I’ll lose my nerve.

I swallow and the sound seems extra loud to my ears. My heart is racing, thumping hard against my chest, as I push his shirt up and kiss his stomach. The feel of his heated skin against my lips, the salty male taste is no different than I remember. It’s exactly the same and it feels like home. Memories flood my mind of each time we were together, of how beautiful it was, and they all serve as remembrances of the fact that I love this man so deeply that the love somehow altered my soul.

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