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“You’re all set, fucker.”

I hold my hand out to Lyr and walk her over to the desk where I sit in the chair and guide her into my large lap.

“What now?” she asks.

“Now… we wait.”

CHAPTER 29

LYRIC

Ican’t stop watching Jake. A heavy ache settles in my chest because I’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. In the three years that we were together, I’d never seen him cry. Actually, I’d never seen anything but anger and hatred, whether it was because of me or just aimed at me. So, this is new.

He lies there, propped against the headboard, a belt around his neck, left hand looking like Excalibur, and his charred dick corded like a lit Christmas tree. The sight resembles a painting, and I get the urge to dissect it—needing to know the meaning behind it all.

I can see the sweat pooling on him and seeping into the sheets, and it makes me grateful knowing that I don’t have to wake up to that mess anymore. He struggles to breathe and swallow, and I almost feel bad for him until I remember that the man not only killed me, but bashed my face into a phone until I was unrecognizable. He’s earned this.

Attie reaches around my middle and rests his head on my shoulder as he gives me a sweet kiss in the crook of my neck.

He inhales my scent and lets out a sigh, “How are you doing? Are you okay?”

I cradle his arms against me. I don’t think he knows how much I need him and his safety.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I think I’m in shock. I knew we were gonna do this, but a part of me didn’t think it would actually happen. Jake’s always had control over me, and this time it feels a little like the opposite—I hold the power. Frankly, it’s weird.”

I’ve never had control over anything.

He squeezes me and nuzzles his head against mine.

“I’m so proud of you, Lyr.”

That one little sentence makes me come undone. All the feelings I’ve been suppressing my whole life come to the surface, and I let out a croaky sob. Attie spins me ninety degrees and starts peppering my face with kisses. I laugh as I cry, and until this moment, I’ve never felt so free.

Attie pulls back and admires me. His pupils are dilated, nearly obscuring his irises—the love having nowhere else to go. This all started because he took my spot at the library, and he’s been by my side ever since. I can see that he’s trying to fix something he didn’t break, and my heart simultaneously warms and cracks at the notion.

He leans in and licks my bottom lip before slipping his tongue into my mouth. I take this moment to really soak him in. His mouth is warm and his tongue is soft as ours dance around each other; I love the taste of him.

I pull away and hop off his lap, and he looks at me, confused. A toothy smirk appears on my face as we lock eyes, and I undress in front of him. I don’t do this. This isn’t me.

I’m the girl who sits on the couch with a pillow covering her stomach. The one dressed in black because it’s supposed to be slimming, and thankfully, that seems to be true. I’m the girl who refuses to examine her naked body in the mirror; the one who has sex with the lights off. But Attie deserves more—he’s acquired all of me.

His eyes skim my body, and I approach him, curling my fingers underneath his tee. I remove it and work my way to his jeans. When I’ve finished getting rid of his belt and his bottoms, I climb on top of him. Straddling his lap, my C-cup tits sit pretty in his face and my pussy hovers above him. The searing heat radiates off me, and Attie growls.

Before I have time to do anything else, I’m slammed down onto his thick cock. The sudden intrusion makes me gasp. He holds me in place as he thrusts upward, his balls slapping at my ass with every stroke.

I’ve completely forgotten where we are or that Jake is here. I’m a goner. Attie fingers my nipples as he kisses and flicks his tongue against my collarbone. He continues to pump into me, and I can feel an orgasm coming. Goosebumps prickle my skin as I shatter above him, and it sends Atticus over the edge, too. Rope after rope of cum coats my inner walls and his cock pulsates inside my now aching hole.

Breathing heavily, I collapse on his broad chest. I love the way he’s built like a tank, but soft like a plushie. I nuzzle against him and inhale a big whiff of his scent—whiskey—home.

Mine.

It soothes me.

A gurgling sound comes from behind me, and Attie and I look toward the noise.

“I can see you idiots. Thanks for the show. You’ve always been a fat slut, Lyric.”

Attie practically throws me off him and charges at Jake, still exposed.