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“I’ve got her. And please, the faster you can get me something, anything on the thing we discussed, the better,” I said.
“Yes, boss, already on it,” Kevin replied.
“Kevin…” I hesitated.
“Yes, sir?”
“You make me feel old when you call me boss. You know you’re six months older than me, right?” I asked, laughing.
Kevin chuckled and hung up.
Chapter Eight
Sarah
EverytimeIthoughtabout Warwick, I felt a pain in my soul. He’d been so kind to me, never owing me anything, especially my safety or freedom. I felt like I was a different person than I was before I climbed on his motorcycle, and I hated it. I never meant to fall for him. All I wanted was to avoid the arranged marriage and his brother. I didn’t have any long-term thoughts other than that at the time. Escape the torture my dad and Pauly had caused and hope for the best. Now I felt trapped again but in a different way, in a way that sent shivers of delicious desire down my spine every time I saw Warwick. But he and I were never meant to be, so as delicious as the feelings were, they also felt like a slow, painful hell. It was as if I was watching the most beautiful romance in the world, but it was unattainable because of my circumstances.
I stood in the shower until the water went cold, and my skin broke out in goosebumps. When I finally shut it off, I shivered and shook as I wrapped the massive bath sheet around my body. I wished I could just disappear and make myself and all the problems I caused disappear. I missed my family and my mom, but I didn’t see any way to get ahold of her without putting myself and Warwick in danger.
I slumped down on the spare bed and felt defeated and alone—both sensations I was getting used to—neither of which I liked. I sat on the bed with the towel around me for long enough that Warwick knocked on the door.
“Are you okay?” he asked. He cautiously opened the bedroom door and peered inside.
“Yeah,” I said firmly. This wasn’t his problem. I’d leaned on him enough already.
“You don’t look okay,” Warwick said.
I bowed my head and stared hard at my toes. I wasn’t okay, not really. This was not how I imagined my early twenties to be.
“I will be,” I said firmly.
Warwick sat next to me and took my hand in both of his. His thumb stroked mine slowly, sending chills of delight down my spine.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
I took a deep breath. “I feel like this life I’ve been given isn’t mine. I didn’t ask to be born into the family I was, and yet, they’re the only ones I know. I don’t have the courage to walk away from them, not knowing how badly my dad wants to walk now. He’s tired. I’m tired. I just want it all to be over, you know?” I asked. Warwick nodded, and I continued. “And I finally get away only to be stuck in hiding with someone I accidentally got feelings for that I can’t ever be with. It’s a mess, and I hate it all. I’m just wondering what the point of any of this even is.”
“Any of what?” Warwick asked gently. “Us? Your family?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “Life. What is the point of having a life if it's not mine to live?”
My question hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Warwick leaned over and hugged me tightly, his strong arms wrapping around me. I felt safe with him, something I wasn’t used to feeling but craved immensely. I leaned my head on his shoulder and sighed. My towel slipped and uncovered the top of my breast. I considered pulling it back up again, but something in my brain just snapped.
I might as well keep having fun as long as I’m here.
I knew I was already in love with Warwick, and when it came time to leave, I’d be hurt and devastated either way.
Warwick glanced down at my breast, and his heartbeat quickened under my ear. I darted my eyes down to his shorts. Was his cock awake from just a glance at my naked body? I felt the wetness between my legs at the thought of his hard manhood.
I looked up at him and was awash in sea-green eyes. He stared intently, and I held his gaze, silently daring him to feel what I was feeling. Warwick caressed my shoulder, his fingers swirling around it, each swirl coming a little bit closer to my exposed breast. On instinct, I lifted my hand and ran my fingers down his chiseled cheek to his defined jaw and around his neck. I followed his hairline as I stroked him, and when I ran my fingers deep into his dark hair, he gasped.
Warwick leaned into me, and his full lips met mine with force. His tongue parted my lips, and I opened, eager to welcome it. Our kiss deepened and became more intense. I needed him with me, in me, even if it was only for a short time in my life.
My towel fell off me completely, and Warwick’s fingers eagerly found my wetness. He entered me roughly and manipulated my clit. His fingers worked inside me while his tongue probed my mouth, and it was all I could do not to orgasm just with that stimulation alone. I wanted his shaft inside me, though, so I willed myself to think of other thoughts to slow the arousal down.
There was an urgency about Warwick’s movements today that felt different from other times. His frantic touch matched my feelings. We had one opportunity to be together, and we were going to take it. I spread my legs wider as my urgency for him grew with each passing second. My fingers found the button and zipper of his shorts, and I opened them, removing his shorts like a woman possessed. He grunted into my lips when I grabbed his erect cock, but our kiss never broke stride.
I stroked up and down his rock-hard shaft, feeling each vein as if trying to etch it into my memory forever. What if this was our last time to be together? Everything was so uncertain right now. I was terrified it would all end just as quickly as it began, and I wanted to remember every detail of our time together.
