Page 68 of Passion in Bloom

No more thoughts of David entered my mind. Nothing remained on my head. It was only bliss, pure, complete ecstasy as I came.

“Oh, oh!” I shouted, glad that no one would hear us.

He was right there with me, unable to stand up to me fucking him like this. His dick jerked. I felt the spasms as I milked him. Hot cum shot up into me, and as I rode the waves of relief and pleasure, I fell forward.

His arms wrapped around me as he caught me, and together, sated and crashing from the rush of coming so hard, we shook and trembled, catching our breath. I stayed on his lap, shivering as my skin broke out in goosebumps from how forcefully that orgasm knocked into me.

Even though I was confined in his strong embrace and his bare dick was up inside me, he wasn’t forcing me to stay. He wasn’t trapping me in place, and knowing that he could be that sweet and patient, I envisioned that this could be my reality. Not a one-off enactment of a fantasy. But my life.

If I wanted to make that leap and move on from the abusive hostage-like relationship I had with David, I could do so with Roarke and feel safer like this. I could do so with the knowledge that he would ground me, not crush me. That he’d let me dictate how I wanted things to pan out, not order me to do as he instructed, or else.

Can I? Can we actually make this work?

I rested against him as he sighed, and I wondered. After talking with Nance about staying in Burton and passing on that job opportunity Janelle mentioned in Wisconsin, making my residence a permanent one was on my mind. To work at the bank. To buy a house. To put down roots.

With Roarke, too?

It seemed like such a huge step, one that we’d need to discuss. We had to have more of a grace period following my departure from David. We had to spend more time getting to know each other—and not just sexually.

I wasn’t sure what we were doing. If we were dating. Just sleeping together? I didn’t know, and I was fine without labeling it.

It was just a miracle that he’d be as lenient and understanding not to push me so far.

We needed to take out time with whatever we were doing, and I knew that had to mean more talking. More sharing. He’d shared a lot already, and with this physical demonstration of how much I could trust him with my body, I wanted to jump onboard and talk—

Shit.

When I came home, I had a conversation planned. I’d rehearsed how I’d break the news to him about his niece and that she was pregnant.

So much for those plans.

As soon as I saw him cooking, I struggled to stay serious.

“Want to clean up?” he asked after kissing my cheek. “I’ll try to salvage dinner.”

I smiled, amused. “Well, there’s deli meat and bread...”

“Deal.”

I got up with his help and headed to the shower, still thinking about Nevaeh and how I’d slacked in informing him about what I discovered. He’d want to know. He’d need to know since she had a habit of relying on him to an extent.

But it’s not my secret to share. That was the nagging little voice of reason that attacked me as I showered.

Nevaeh was secretive—just like me. I didn’t have to know the nineteen-year-old any better to realize she’d be furious with me if I told Roarke about what I saw.

It was purely happenstance that I was in the café when I was. It was a coincidence of fate that I went to the bathroom.

It’s her fault that she left that test out though. If she wanted it to be a secret, then wouldn’t she have taken the time to throw it away? To hide it in her purse? Something?

She was probably overwhelmed and worked up, shocked. She wouldn’t have taken the time to stop and think clearly.

Screw it.I shook my head as I turned off the shower. Secrets never helped anyone. They weren’t good to keep forever. They were, at the base of it, lies. I was sick of holding back truths, especially from Roarke.

I have to tell him. I have to come clean and do what is best.

I, more than anyone else, understood how important privacy was, but in this manner, it wasn’t just Nevaeh’s life that could be impacted. If she was going to keep the baby, she needed prenatal healthcare. Arrangements would need to be made for the baby. If the teenager had shown any indication she could be responsible for her own life, then I wouldn’t interfere.

But she hadn’t instilled me with the thought that she was responsible at all.