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EWB: Chapter 20

Valentine

I felt foolish. I was a fool. I’d let myself become vulnerable, exposed like a wound open for infection.

It was never supposed to be like this.

I was never supposed to be like this. My life was so much easier before Marshall fucking Wise came into my life. Before I’d grown accustomed to him being around, to him looking after me. To him caring about me.

I’d almost wept when I’d seen him on the intercom screen, when he must have sped the whole way from his place to mine, because he cared about me.

I knew letting him in was a bad idea.

Because I needed him.

I’d never needed anyone or anything in my life.

Marshall Wise ruined me.

He made me feel things. He made me want things. He showed me what happiness was. He showed me what it felt like to be important to someone.

A glimpse of what love felt like.

And so help me fucking god, I wanted it.

As much as it scared me.

I never realised I needed him to fight for me.

And fight for me he did.

Standing there in my kitchen with his arms around me, with my heart a beating mess, he held me while I cried. While I finally admitted that I was not as unbreakable as I pretended to be.

Admitting that I needed him was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

Admitting I needed anything was hard for me. But giving my heart to someone, trusting them not to hurt me, was terrifying.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, kissing the side of my head again. “I gotchu.”

And he did.

He had me. All of me.

I knew I needed to talk, but I wasn’t even sure where to start. At the beginning seemed like a good place. I wiped my snotty nose with the back of my hand. “I’m a fucked-up mess.”

“I know,” he said.

I snorted out a laugh. “It’s true. I’m selfish and detached.”

“I know. I know who you are. I know what I’m getting myself into.” He pulled back and cupped my face, wiping my cheeks before kissing me softly. “But I also know who you are when it’s just me and you. I know the real you.”

“I say horrible things just to hurt people. I don’t mean to, I just . . .” I shook my head. “It keeps people away.”

“It’s a self-defence thing,” he offered. “But you’re worth it, Valentine. You’re worth it. You deserve something good in your life. And that’s me, if you haven’t guessed. I’m the good thing you deserve.”

I relented a teary smile and nodded. “You’re the only good thing in my life.”

“No I’m not. You have your sister, you have Lleyton. And Enzo. And your whole rugby team. Those guys have your back too.” He brushed the hair from my forehead and searched my eyes. “You have you. And you’re stronger than you realise.”

My eyes welled with more tears, and I swallowed thickly. God, I was so sick of crying.

“I can’t offer you anything more than this,” I said again. I needed him to understand. “I’m not out. I don’t know if I’ll ever be out.”

“That’s okay, Valentine.”

“It’s okay now. But it won’t always be. I can’t expect you to say it’s okay. And what if in six months or a year from now you realise it’s not okay and you want more than I can give? What do I do then?”

“I won’t ever rush you to do something you’re not ready for. Is it going to be easy? Not always. But I don’t expect it to be. I’m pretty sure nothing with you is going to be easy.”

I snorted out a laugh. “That’s probably true.”

“Now, about the whole sex thing,” Marshall said.

I opened my mouth to counter some argument, but he shushed me. “I know. I know how you like it. You like me to walk in, bend you over and put a load in you, and walk out. I know you like that. And I’m still on board with that because it’s hot as fuck. But sometimes I’ll slow-fuck you and put a load in you. And other times I’ll make love to you for hours and—” He shrugged. “—put a load in you.”

I gave a teary laugh, but I nodded. I thought he was going to say it couldn’t be like that anymore and I was relieved to hear otherwise. Because he did understand me. “Thank you.”

“But I won’t hurt you,” he added. “Not pain for the sake of it. You want a good dicking, fair enough. You want it slow, great.” He kissed my forehead and whispered, “You just gotta talk to me. I know it’s not easy for you. But if you’re having a bad day, tell me. If you need cuddles on the couch, tell me. If you need me to leave you alone for a day, just say that.”

“I told you to leave me alone today and you refused.”

“Time alone to breathe and time alone to recharge, not demanding I stay away because you’re hurting. There’s a difference. I’ll help you learn that.”

I nodded again and let out a shuddering breath, trying to get my head around everything and not knowing where to start. “What do you need? Out of this. From me?” I had no idea how this should work. “I don’t even know what I should ask you.”

“I just need you to talk to me.” He kissed my forehead again. “And the occasional pizza, and every now and then, just to walk in, bend you over and put a load in you and walk out.”

I laughed, wiping my nose again. “Sounds perfect.” I swallowed hard and collected myself a little. “I like what I like. It’s not some fucked-up psychological thing. I’ve discussed it at length in therapy.”

Marshall made a face. “Well. Therapy could be a good thing. Maybe?”

I frowned. “Therapy can’t fix my childhood or what my parents are. Therapy can’t take back every hurtful thing they’ve done and said.”

“No. But it helps to talk about it. To understand why you might feel certain ways.”

“I know who I am,” I said flatly. “I know my faults. I know my shortcomings, and I know my strengths. If you want me to go to therapy, if you absolutely do, I will consider it. I’m not opposed to it. I’ve just tried it before and it was a waste of my time. I know who I am. Sometimes people are just fucked up.”

He kissed my lips softly. “I just want you to be happy. I want you to know how important you are to a lot of people. How important you are to me.”

I smiled sadly. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

“Uh, you shoved me into a toilet cubicle and sucked my dick.”

That made me smile. “And if I got a redo, I’d do it again.”

But knowing it was time for honesty, I sighed. “I’ve never needed anyone like I need you. In my whole life, I’ve never had anyone. Until you. I . . .” I shook my head, new tears welling in my eyes. “This isn’t easy for me to talk about. And I will get things wrong more than I ever get them right, but I want to try. Marshall, you have to promise me you won’t leave me. Even if I push you away. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you, and if you throw that back at me, I’m not sure how I’d survive that.”

“You won’t push me away, because you’re going to talk to me, remember?”

I nodded. “I won’t always get it right.”

“I don’t expect you to. I won’t get things right all the time either. But we’ll try. And we’ll talk like adults.” Then he shrugged. “And fuck like animals.”

I barked out a teary laugh. “Deal.”

Marshall slid his hand along my jaw, kissing me softly, before pulling me in for a long, warm hug. “I don’t hate you, Valentine.”

I nodded into his neck. “I don’t hate you either.”

And so we stood there in my kitchen for a long while, him holding me and me not letting him go. My god, it felt so good. How was a hug so healing? I’d been so touch starved, so affection starved, kindness starved for so long that a simple hug felt like oxygen after struggling to breathe.

Eventually Marshall pulled back, his eyes on mine. “Want to tell me what happened today?”

I shook my head because my immediate reaction, my knee-jerk reaction was to recoil and say everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine, and I had to learn how to talk to him, to admit things, and be vulnerable. “My father,” I mumbled.

Apparently it was all I needed to say because Marshall growled. “I know he’s your father and I’m trying not to—”

“I hate him. He just makes me so fucking mad. And it’s not one thing in particular, it’s everything. Every little jab, every poke, every prod. Every snide comment, every sniff of arrogance. He wears me down, and I used to just ignore it. I used to be able to tamp down every emotion and pretend it didn’t hurt, or hell, that I even deserved it, and I don’t know why but I can’t do that anymore.”

Well, that’s not true.

“Actually, I do know,” I added. “I’m pretty sure it’s your fault.”

His eyes went wide. “Me? What did I do?”

“You made me feel things, Marshall. You made me deal with shit that I never had any intention of dealing with.” I had instant tears in my eyes, and my nose burned, and my chin wobbled. I gestured to my stupid face. “See? What the fuck is this?”

He laughed but was quick to pull me back in for a hug. “Come here.”

I let him hold me tight because apparently I needed that now. “God, emotions are so fucking terrible.”

He chuckled quietly and rubbed my back. “So terrible.”

I stayed right there, taking in his warmth and his scent. His strength. “If I quit now, my father will think it’s because I couldn’t handle it. He handed the construction division to me as a test, and he’ll think I’m a failure.”

Marshall sighed and pulled back. He put his palm to my jaw, his thumb gently swiped my cheek, his eyes on mine. “You didn’t fail anything.”

I shrugged because I didn’t know what else to do. “I don’t want to leave my job. I like what I do. But I don’t know how much longer I can deal with him for. He was such an arsehole today. It’s embarrassing and demeaning.”

It really hadn’t been one thing today that set me off. By god, I only had to see my father and it set my teeth on edge. It put my defences up.

In the end, I sighed. “And you know what? Maybe that’s the point. Maybe I’m not cut out for it. Because the mega-corp world is full of people just like my father. It’s how he became so successful. He’s ruthless and gives not one thought to people he trampled in his climb to the top.” I didn’t have to tell Marshall that; he knew all too well. “But all those huge corporate execs and CEOs, they’re all like that. It’s just business, they say. It’s not personal. What a crock of shit. It is personal, every fucking time.”

He nodded, frowning. “It is.”

I knew he’d get it. “I’m not like that. I can’t do that. I thought I could. I thought I could just squash it all down and pretend it didn’t matter, but I can’t.” I shrugged again, though realisation was dawning on me. “So maybe he’s right. I’m not cut out for it. I did fail.”

Marshall shook his head. “You didn’t fail. In fact, I’d reckon this is you doing the opposite of that.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “For the first time in my life, nothing’s mapped out for me.”

He put his hands to my face. “So,” he said. “How about you take it one day at a time? There’s no need to rush into anything or do something that can’t be undone. I think you made a pretty big decision already today. How about we let the dust settle for a bit?”

I knew he had a point, but . . . “Maybe I should do it now.”

“Do what now?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know!”

Marshall smiled and kissed me softly. “Maybe having a plan of action in place first would be a good idea, yes?”

“Or maybe jumping in with both feet into the unknown is my plan?” I put my hand to my forehead because, holy shit, that was daunting as fuck. “Or maybe not.”

Marshall took my hand from my forehead and kissed my knuckles. “Whatever you want to do, I’m one hundred percent okay with. As long as you’re happy.”

I had no idea how much I needed to hear that until he’d said it. “Thank you.”

“Just let me know if you’re not gonna be my boss anymore,” he said. “Because I was totally gonna quit and tell you to shove the whole company up your arse when this Mercer job was over.”

Wait, what? “You were?”

He nodded. “Back in the beginning. When Tye Corp took over and you walked in. I had absolutely no intention of staying. I only stayed because I didn’t want to let Mercer down. I was actually going to ask them to hire me.”

Jesus. “And now? What are you saying, Marshall?”

He smiled. “Now I went and caught feelings, and leaving don’t feel right.”

Oh god, he was just saying this stuff out loud to my face. “Caught feelings, huh?”

He nodded. “I mean, I had feelings the first day too. More akin to rage and loathing though. Man, I wanted to strangle you that first day. I was so fucking mad.”

“I remember,” I said, recalling his face when he heard the news. “You looked at me with pure disgust in your eyes. It was so fucking hot. I pretty much knew then I wanted your hands on me.”

He laughed. “Oh, really?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

He ran his hands over my shoulders and up my neck, so gentle and warm. “Like this?”

I ignored the heat in my cheeks. “Sometimes.”

He laughed and, holding my face, brought me back in for another hug. He wrapped me up tight and sighed. “How about we organise some food and hit the couch and watch some dreadful TV?”

“Will you stay tonight?” I asked, beyond sounding desperate. If this entire night hadn’t been an exhibit of pitiful, then what’s a bit more? “I really want you to stay. I want you to wreck me tonight.”

He hummed and lifted my chin for a kiss. “I’m happy to wreck you, Valentine. But there’ll be no hurting tonight. It’s gonna be slow and deep, and you’re gonna feel everything I feel for you.”

I leaned into him, melting in his arms. And that’s exactly what he did. He fed me, then took me to bed and wrecked me in the very best of ways. In ways I’d never been wrecked before. He made love to me, slow and deep, just like he said he would. Every emotion in every kiss, every thrust, every touch. He shattered me, splintering me into tiny pieces and then he put me back together again. He reassembled me, more complete than I’d ever been.

And in case I thought for one minute that this was how he was going to task sex with me from now on—lovemaking instead of the hard fucking I craved—before he left for work the next morning, he flattened me on the bed, held me down, and rammed another load into me.

Then he slapped my arse and walked out.

I smiled into my pillow, stretching my used muscles, relishing in the feel of where he’d been. My body sang. My heart was happy. I was happy.

I’d gone and fallen in love for the first time in my life.

I was in love. So in love.

With Marshall fucking Wise.

God help me.


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