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“Ohhh…” I murmur, my moan barely a whisper.
“There’s my good girl. Slow,” he murmurs around my nipple, gripping me firm enough that I can’t take more than an inch at a time. “Then, once I’m deep enough that you can’t hold back for a second longer, you’re going to give me the moans I deprived myself of the first time.”
I cry out at the need in his voice, my knees buckling beneath me, but I don’t sink further down his cock. Brodie won’t let me. He refuses to hurt me physically because he’s petrified of the emotional damage his earlier silence already caused.
The acknowledgment of that is more healing than anything he could say or do.
It also causes a pressure so blindingly bright I have no idea what it is until I’m pushed over the edge of orgasmic bliss.
I come—loudly.
Then Brodie’s release chases mine several frantic minutes later.
23
HENLEY
The following morning, I wake up deliciously sore but happy. With the tension hot enough to scald, we were a little quick off the mark, but Brodie made up for our shortcomings on his desk, in the pantry, and in the shower where we were meant to wash off the sweat and sex smell clinging to our skin.
I was so spent I more wobbled to my room in the wee hours of this morning than strutted. It was the best walk of shame I’ve taken part in because not only did Brodie watch every staggered stride, but his lower lip also dropped a smidge when I slipped behind my bedroom door.
Last night was amazing, but I’d be a liar if I said I don’t feel apprehensive about how things will go this morning. The last time we gave in to the tension, Brodie developed amnesia the following morning.
Although he appeared anxious about letting me go last night, I know how easily feelings change when distance is placed between people.
I thought my father was fine, but then I left for college, and the world crumbled beneath my feet for the second time.
With my mood not as ambient as earlier, I do a quick stretch before slipping out of bed and putting on some gym pants and a T-shirt. Brodie mentioned yesterday that our self-defense classes will run daily until he returns to work, and although I know I need to be honest with him about my placement before then, I need a couple more days to prove nothing I did was with ill intent.
My objective was never to upset or harm Lucy. I wanted to protect her from a hurt that almost swallowed me whole twice.
Talking about Lucy, the tiny patter of feet on wooden floorboards trickles into my room before a faint tap. “Henley, are you awake?”
I smile. She thinks she’s whispering, but her voice is still as loud as a freight train. “I am.” My grin grows when she pushes open my door, and her messy head pops into the crack. I’m clearly not the only one having a sleep-in. “Did you have a good sleep?” After taking in her messy hair for the second time and the pillow crease on her cheek, I say, “It sure looks like you did.”
“I slept like a baby.” She skips into my room, her rabbit closely following, before she leaps onto my bed. “Did you have a good sleep?” My giggles fan her face with hot air when she stands on my bed to ruffle my hair, which is as out of control as hers. “It looks like you did. You’ve got a big knot. Want me to brush it for you?”
“How about after breakfast?” Lucy is as sweet as pie, but my god, she has no clue how strong she is. I’ve lost more hair the past week than when I chopped off all my locks and dyed them black, hoping a new look would conceal me.
I was terribly wrong.
You can’t stay hidden when you’re forced out of hiding by the people meant to protect you.
After helping Lucy down from my bed, I ask, “Is Daddy awake?”
She half shrugs, half nods. “I think so. His bed is empty.”
“Oh.” When we walk hand in hand down the hallway, I can’t help but peek into Brodie’s room.
Lucy is right. His bed is empty. However, it appears as if it hasn’t been slept in.
Brushing off my worry, I ask, “Do you have any big plans for breakfast today? I was thinking something light, and then we can do some crafts before Uncle Thane arrives for our self-defense class.”
In the stupidity of my self-consciousness, I completely forgot about the new images in the hall that would stop any little girl in her tracks.
Lucy is staring up at the wall with her mouth gaping and tears flooding her eyes.
My heart thuds hard when she asks on a sob, “Is that my mommy?”
