THE SOUND of the shower turning on wakes me up.
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but a quick glance at the clock on his nightstand tells me it wasn’t very long. After the silent and emotionally tense ride home, I sat on the couch with my cell phone in my hand until I was too tired to keep my eyes open. Pax had locked himself in his room the second we got back, so there was no reason for me to sleep on the couch tonight.
I’d knocked on his door a couple times to see if he was okay, and each time he answered through the wood. He told me he was fine, but I know he was lying. How can he possibly be fine after what his father told him tonight? He’s going to need time to heal from the brutal honesty of Adrian’s answer. I just hope he knows by now that both Rafferty and I are here to help him through it all, and that he doesn’t have to do it alone.
Scrubbing the blurriness from my eyes, I push the door open to the en-suite bathroom. The entire room is made of black marble and chrome fixtures. It’s dark and masculine. Just like Rafferty.
Inside the glass-walled walk-in shower, he stands under the spray of water with his palms pressed to the marble and his head hanging to his chest. He doesn’t hear me enter and his eyes remain closed. My heart sinks at the image.
Pulling the T-shirt I’d stolen from his dresser to wear to bed over my head, I drop it to the tile floor and step into the shower with him. I know he hears me now, but he still doesn’t turn to look at me. That’s okay. As long as he knows I’m here for him, he doesn’t need to look at me now.
Stepping behind him, I wrap my arms around him and rest my hands on the strong muscles of his abdomen. He’s stiff for only a second before I feel his chest expand as he pulls in a deep breath and slowly exhales it. Cheek resting against his back, I hold him tightly and try to somehow absorb some of the pain and trauma he’s dealt with over the past few days.
I desperately want to take the guilt and blame he’s feeling away but know that’s something he’ll need to do for himself. I’ll remind him daily that it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know what was happening to Pax until he figures it out for himself.
There’s a lot of healing that we all need to do. The good news is we get to do it together this time. We’ll support and hold each other up until we can do it on our own two legs, and even then, we’ll know we don’t have to do it alone. That’s what families do and that’s what we are. A family. Always have been.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely, hand dropping from the wall so he can take hold of mine. He holds it against his chest in a grip that is borderline painful.
“Why are you apologizing to me?” He doesn’t owe me an apology for what he did tonight. I already told him I supported his choice. Hell, there was a moment there after Adrian spoke to Pax that I considered being the one to push him into the deep grave. The only reason I didn’t is because I knew Rafferty needed that closure more than I did.
“Because I blamed you for what happened. I blamed you and I hurt you. The things I did and said to you… Fuck!” The hand that is still on the wall curls into a fist and he slams his knuckles into the marble.
Releasing my hold from his torso, I twist around his tall frame so I’m directly in front of him. His chin is still pressed to his chest, and I take hold of his face, lifting it so he’ll look at me. The spray of water drenches my hair, and it runs down my forehead and cheeks. My eyes blink when droplets stick on my lashes.
“What happened wasn’t fair. To any of us. The way you treated me was … awful, but you didn’t know. I lied to you, and you were reacting with the information you had. I can’t blame you for that. It wasn’t fair, but I understand why you did what you did.” He tries to look away again and I force him to keep his head up. The walls he’s built to keep everyone out are down and there’s a vulnerability in his blue eyes that’s rarely there. “If I don’t blame you and can forgive you, then you need to forgive yourself.” For everything.
He drops his forehead to mine and his hands hold either side of my neck in a gentle grasp. “Please just let me say it anyway. I need to.”
“Okay.”
His thumb slides back and forth on my jaw and I can’t tell if he’s doing it to comfort me or himself. “I’m so fucking sorry, Posie. Those words don’t feel like they’re enough, and they probably won’t for a long time, but I’m going to keep saying them to you until they do.”
My hands drop so I can grasp his sides. “They do mean something, Raff. They mean everything.” I’d accepted a long time ago that he may never know the truth and we’d never find our way back together, but the fact that we’ve made it here is more than I could have allowed myself to hope for. “Those words mean we have a future, and that’s all I want.” All I need.
He pulls back and smooths the now wet strands of my hair off my face. “Good, because I have no intention of ever letting you go again. I lost you once and I refuse to do it again. You’re fucking mine, Butterfly. I dare someone to try and take you from me.”
I lay my hand over his heart, and like I’m engraving an unbreakable oath there, I make him a promise. “I’m not leaving you. I gave you my heart when I was fifteen years old, and even when you hated me, it still belonged to you. It always will.” Then I tell him the three little words that are stronger and more powerful than “I hate you” will ever be. “I love you.”
“Fuck, baby. Me too.” Backing me out from under the spray, he presses my back to the cold wall on the other side of the large shower. Hands grabbing the back of my thighs, he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him. Eye level with him, his blue gaze burns into mine. “I loved you even when I hated you. You are my heart, Posie Davenport.”
The butterflies that erupt in my stomach are summoned by him when his lips crash into mine. This kiss feels different than the rest. This one signifies the start of a lifetime of more just like this. With our secrets and lies exposed, there’s nothing left keeping us apart. For the first time, maybe ever, we’re completely bare to one another.
I know now our story was never destined to be an easy one, but every heartache and lie was worth it in the end.
He groans, chest vibrating against mine when my tongue finds his. The tip of his cock nudges the back of my thigh, telling me he needs me as much as I do him.
“Take me to bed,” I pant against his lips. We’re both soaked and we’ll need to change the sheets so we can sleep, but I don’t care. “I want you.”
Holding on to him, I lick and suck his neck while he turns off the water and carries me out of the shower. We leave a trail of water across the tile and the hardwood floor of his bedroom before we reach his king-sized bed. The dark charcoal sheets smell of him and the spicy scent wraps around me when my back hits the mattress.
Taking hold of my knees, he yanks my legs apart and the cool air hits my exposed pussy. My demand for him to touch me dies on my tongue when his lips close over my clit, and I momentarily lose the ability to bring air into my lungs.
“Shit!” I gasp, fingers pulling at the soft cotton sheets.
The long languid swipe of his tongue has my back arching off the bed and my toes curling. He doesn’t need to do this, my body is ready for him, but he gets just as much pleasure out of this as I do. This is one of the few instances where I would classify Rafferty Wilde as generous.
One of his strong arms wraps around my thigh to keep me in place as he licks, sucks, and bites my sensitive flesh until I’m thrashing beneath him. His fingers sink into me and curl up toward that spot inside of me that he knows so well, and at the same time, his lips close on my clit again.
I pull a pillow over my face just in time to muffle the sounds he forces from my throat. Pax’s room is right across the hall, and it feels insensitive for him to have to hear us in here after what happened.
I’ve just barely crashed back into my body after floating above it in ecstasy when he thrusts fully inside of me. He tears the pillow out of my grasp and takes hold of my face in a bruising touch.
He rears back before diving back just as deep as before. “Look at me,” he orders. “Look at me and tell me you love me.”
This is the easiest thing anyone’s asked me to do. “I love you, Rafferty. Always have and always will.”
The smile that pulls at his lips before they seal over mine makes my heart skip a beat, and I take joy in knowing I’m the only one who gets to see it. He saves his smiles and love for me, and they’re both all I could ever want.
WE NEVER GOT AROUND to changing the sheets. We fell asleep tangled in each other with my head on his chest. Hours later, I woke up to him pulling a blanket over us, but I wasn’t awake long. After the chaos and emotionally taxing events of the past four days, I was exhausted and couldn’t keep my eyes open. I don’t think I’ve ever slept as hard as I did last night.
The early afternoon sun nearly blinds me when my eyes do finally crack open. Groaning, I reach for Raff’s pillow to throw over my head but stop when my fingers brush against paper.
What the hell? That wasn’t there when we went to sleep last night.
One eye open and one still squeezed shut, I roll onto my stomach and reach across the half-empty bed for the paperwork. The lettering scrolled across it doesn’t register in my brain for a solid ten seconds before a single word clicks.
Holy shit.
Like someone had shocked me with a live wire, I’m flying up into a sitting position and reading the document word for word. All evidence of exhaustion has completely vacated my system.
“I got it signed over to you. It’s completely paid off and it’s yours.” Rafferty’s voice comes from the doorway. I’m not sure when he appeared there or how long he’s watched me scan over the updated deed to my father’s house. “Henry will always have a home. You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll make whatever changes to it that still need to be done to make sure it’s perfect for him and your aunt.”
“Raff…” My throat is tight as I stare at him in disbelief. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
He pushes off the doorframe and moves to sit on the end of the bed in front of me. He shoves his fingers through his hair, and the slightly wavy strands fall back to his forehead in a perfectly messy way.
“Don’t fucking thank me. I never should have threatened to evict him in the first place. I’m just glad I can make it right now.”
I fold the deed carefully before turning to place it on the nightstand. I freeze when I see the gold chain with the small key already lying there. There’s only one thing a key that size would work on, and it’s currently shackled around my throat.
“What…” I trail off, finding it concerning that I’m bothered at the prospect of him taking it off. It started off as a symbol of his absolute control over me, but at some point, I started to view it differently. It stopped being degrading. I’m not sure what it says about me that I’m upset at the idea of removing a literal collar, but I’m sure a psychiatrist would have a field day with it. “Do you want me to take it off?”
“Yes.”
My stomach drops a little at his blunt answer.
“Unless I’m fucking you, I don’t need you to wear it anymore,” he explains, taking my hand in his and his fingers absentmindedly fiddle with mine. “I’ve already given you something else to wear that marks you as mine. There will be no confusion from anyone when they see it. They’ll know you’re off-fucking-limits, and if they don’t, my fist down their throat should do the trick.”
Brows pulled in confusion, I shake my head at him. “What the hell are you talking—”
It’s just then I realize his fingers are twisting a ring back and forth on my hand. I don’t wear rings. Eyes snapping to where my left hand rests in my lap, I’m nearly blinded by the gigantic radiant-cut diamond sitting on my finger. I thought the ring Astor Banes’s wife had was big, but Rafferty has somehow managed to outdo him.
I mean, of fucking course, he did.
I want to jump at him or scream or something, but instead I’m stuck frozen staring at the engagement ring. I’m not numb by any means. It’s quite the opposite. I’m feeling so many things at once, my body has momentarily forgotten how to function.
“Rafferty…” I manage to choke out after a stunned minute.
He doesn’t get on one knee, and I wouldn’t expect him to. It’s a move that is too traditional and rigid for him. Instead, he brings my left hand up and kisses my palm. “I’m not going to ask you anything because that insinuates there’s a question at hand. This isn’t a question. Not anymore.” His gaze bores into mine and the intensity in those blue orbs all but steals my breath. “You’re mine, Butterfly. That’s just simple fucking fact. I want—need—to make you mine in every possible way because I’m not risking losing you again. I will legally bind you to me to ensure you stay with me. It’s where you belong. We both know it.”
Some will say this is fast and a rash decision. What they don’t know is we’ve been slowly moving toward this inevitable point since we were kids. I didn’t think I believed in fate, but now I think I do. We’ve been through hell and somehow managed to come out the other side together. If that isn’t proof we are meant for each other, I don’t know what is.
The best thing my mom ever did was leave me. It’s because of her that Mollie took me in like she did. For that, I will forever be thankful to her for abandoning me.
She is the reason I met the one my very soul belongs to, and that is a debt I can never repay.
The breath I’d been holding escapes my parted lips in a slow shuddering exhale. “If this isn’t a question, what do you want me to say?”
His request is simple. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
For the rest of our lives, I’ll never tell him truer words than those.
