Hotshot (37 page)

And I deserve it. But damn if she isn’t fucking sexy. This is how I know she owns me. Watching her wiggle to get loose and possibly castrate me for my timing is only making me harder.

God, I’m an idiot. How’d I ever think keeping my feelings inside was the right decision?

“Baby, keep spouting that shit. I should punish you for not doing it weeks ago. Every word out of your mouth should have been shared. I was a prick. I know that now. Hell, I knew it while it was happening, but that’s over. I’ll explain everything to you, anything you want to know. Each and every moment I was in her presence was brutal, agonizing, and grating. There was not one second my skin didn’t crawl, so I did something I’ve never done. I closed off my brain, trained myself to be numb, to go through the motions. I didn’t know how to turn it off and on, and I had to try and make her happy. My only defense is I was doing what I thought was best for my son.”

“That’s not enough for me! I am supposed to be your confidant, your rock. Give you support when you need it! Instead, you made me feel insignificant and unimportant! I’ve spent weeks mourning the loss of you, wondering if there is a way to overcome this pain.”

Fuck, that hurts.

“Stop fighting me and listen.” I lower my voice, trying to calm her down.

She slows her movements but glares at me, her eyes now scorching with betrayal.

“There’s no excuse that will ever be good enough, but the truth is, I buckled under pressure. For all those months, I tried to handle what was happening with precision and logic, never allowing emotions to get involved. But the moment I saw him, it became real, and I collapsed. Everything in my world was turned upside down. I knew it was happening but couldn’t control it. Emotionally, I was actually mourning the feelings inside, feeling the joy and heartache. The contrast became too much, and I couldn’t handle it. Every ounce of love I felt for my unborn son felt disloyal to you and the life we were building. How could I ask you to love him when his mother is a source of some of your worst memories? Coming to terms with Sasha was something I had to do, and I wasn’t sure how to ask you to do the same. Something had to give, and I wasn’t sure what that was, until the fog cleared, and I was faced with losing you.

“That wasn’t and never will be an option.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you explain this?” The defiance bleeds into sympathy, her anger thawing. “I could have helped you.”

“Because the guilt was too heavy. I couldn’t find the words.”

“So you let me suffer?”

“I’ve already said it, but I’ve failed you too many times to count. I had a plan. It was a shitty plan, but I was going to tell you everything when you came back to Miami. I never dreamed you’d be given a job offer and even consider staying. I was biding my time. Suffering was not my intention. I thought it would be easier for you to think I was an asshole than to know the truth.”

“The truth! The truth that you fell in love with your son so hard that you’d do anything to keep his mother happy? That you put his needs before yours, and in the process, lost your identity? Talk about punishment! I should be the one punishing you! What a fucking ridiculous train of thought!”

She struggles again to get her arms free, but I take advantage of her position, leaning in and running my lips along the column of her throat.

“I’ll take your punishment, anytime, but first, you’ll have to get free.”

She squirms, each twist of her torso moving her hips against my dick. I grow harder and rock into her.

“You’re not fighting fair.” She goes limp under me, pouting. “I can’t overpower you.”

I continue to skim my lips up until I reach her mouth, nibbling on her bottom lip. “You may not be able to physically overpower me, but otherwise, you own me,” I whisper against the soft skin and feel her breath hitch.

“Please let me go. I won’t try to get away.”

“I’ll let you go, but before I do, tell me you forgive me. Looking back, confessing these feelings out loud should have been easy. You have the kindest and most understanding heart of anyone in the world. My excuses are pitiful, I know that now. My confidence faltered, leaving me in a position I’ve never faced before. Logic and reason always come easily to me, but this time, I lost my way. Tell me I didn’t fuck this up beyond repair. I can live with a lot of things in this life, Bizzy, but losing you isn’t one of them.”

“You aren’t losing me, but it doesn’t mean I’m not mad as hell.” She doesn’t skip a beat and arches her mouth to mine. “A part of me wants to kick you out and send you back to Miami, but the other part of me wants to forgive and forget this last month.” She kisses me lazily.

“I deserve to be kicked out, but I’m not going back to Miami without you. There is no forgetting this last month of hell. I know that. I’m going to try my damnedest to make it up to you,” I mumble against her lips then let go of her wrists and skim my hands lightly down her sides until I reach her waist and roll us to the side. She tangles her legs with mine, pressing close. We continue to kiss, neither of us willing to break the connection, until she finally tears away and lays her head on my shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“It feels like a lifetime without you.”

“Are you really staying?”

“As long as nothing happens with the baby, I’ll be here through the end of your assignment.”

“Is that even possible?”

“I’ll work from here. As for Sasha, we aren’t slated to meet again until after the New Year for our next class, but I know her and how her mind works. It’s one of the many unfortunate things that I’ve been exposed to lately. So, I handled it, along with some help from my mom. Hopefully, she won’t bother me.”

“What is she going to do?”

“She’s going to keep Sasha busy… pick out paint colors, endure endless shopping trips, whatever Sasha suggests.”

“Oh my God, poor Maria.”

“It was her idea. She called me in the car on my way to the airport with her elaborate plan of running into Sasha tomorrow at the game and explaining I left town early on business, which isn’t entirely a lie. I already had a ticket to surprise you tomorrow. I was unsure of what I was going to say. When Claire showed up and told me about your job offer, I couldn’t wait. There was no way I was letting you go one more day without explaining myself.”

“You were coming anyway?”

“Yes.” I trace the worry lines around her eyes and realize for the first time how tired she looks. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“The last time I slept well was about thirty-one nights ago.”

“Let’s get you to bed.” I curl up, trying to bring her with me, but she presses harder, not moving.

“I want to stay like this for a while.”

“Whatever you want.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Tell me why you did it, besides the guilt and confusion. Why’d you shut me out completely?”

I take a deep breath and focus on the tree behind her. “I did what you asked. I pretended it was you having my baby. That’s why I was so amenable to her, because your words rang through my head and it helped me focus. My headspace was fucked up, so incredibly fucked up. How could I ask you to love this baby?”

She lets out a little gasp then grips my chin, forcing me to look at her. “You can ask me to love him because you do. That’s how this works. But I can’t go through this again. I won’t. You once told me you love me enough for the both of us. That’s how I’ve felt, too, until you closed me out. I was prepared to walk away, not knowing if I could handle this from you.”

There’s so much concern and honesty in her eyes, I finally break. Yanking her tight against me, I breathe her in and push down the emotions threatening to erupt. There’s isn’t a day she doesn’t amaze me, and I finally understand how close I came to losing her.

“I wouldn’t have let you go. If I had to spend every day on this earth proving to you how much I love you, I’d gladly do it.”

“I want to know everything. Start with the sonogram and tell me what you’ve been holding inside.”

“Baby, we’ve got time. Tonight is about us, reuniting, and me convincing you to forgive me.”

“I know, Shaw, but I’m still hurt. I think hearing your feelings will help me purge. Part of me wants to drag you to my room and demand you make me forget, but that’s not going to salve the pain. Only you can do that.”

“Then what happens?”

A sexy grin forms on her lips. “Tomorrow, we leave it all behind, and we wake up on Christmas morning together. Something I’ve wanted forever.”

There’s no resentment or anger anymore, only pure sincerity and compassion. All the guilt from the last few weeks threatens to explode, but it’s no longer guilt of loving my child with another woman. It’s remorse for thinking that Bizzy couldn’t handle it.

Shaw

Hot tingles shoot through my arm to the point of pain, but I don’t dare move. Bizzy sleeps peacefully, her body tangled around mine, and the thought of waking her overrides the stinging.

We didn’t come to bed until almost four a.m., most of the night spent with me explaining every day since I left here. She listened intently, only interrupting when she wanted to go off on a tirade in irritation about Sasha. My heart swelled with more love at the countless times she showed her loyalty and devotion.

With each mention of my son, her face lit up with a small amount of excitement. She explained it was because of my enthusiasm.

She makes a little noise under her breath and slaps her hair out of her face, rolling to her other side.

Blood rushes through my arm, pinpricks beating as the flow returns. She leans up, looking around, and smiles when she sees me lying there. Then she beats her pillow and plops face down, back asleep immediately.

I watch her back rise and fall, really happy she’s wearing my shirt and nothing else. As soon as I lifted it over my head last night, she snagged it, stripped naked, slid it on, and crawled into bed.

It’s a small gesture, one she’s repeated many times since we became a couple in July, but this time, it took on a different meaning. I found my pajama bottoms exactly where I left them and felt a rush of happiness that she hadn’t changed anything since I left. It was exactly the same. I still had clothes in the closet, my toiletries by the sink, and the drawers stuffed.

Carefully, I get out of the bed and go to the bathroom. I stop dead when I catch my reflection in the mirror. For the first time in forever, I’m able to look at myself without disgust and resentment. My eyes are clear, the dark circles fading. There’s some color in my cheeks that’s been missing. However, I notice my beard is seriously overgrown and needs shaping.

I peek back at Bizzy to make sure she’s still sleeping soundly then turn on the shower, ready to start my Christmas morning.

After I’m done with my routine, I feel like a new man. I dress back in my flannel pajama pants and find a piece of paper, scribbling a note to Bizzy for when she wakes up, and lay it on my pillow.

B-

If you wake up before I get back in bed:

Don’t leave this room-

Don’t get curious-

Don’t try and be sneaky-

Rest, relax, and wait for me…

All my love

S

I find everything I need in the kitchen and start making Bizzy’s favorite breakfast, and once again, thank Claire in my head for having all the ingredients stocked. Without knowing I was coming to Charlotte, she made every effort to have food Bizzy loves in the apartment. When I’m almost done, I hear the water in the bathroom running and hurry to finish, expecting her to disobey me and walk in any second.

There’s a rustling sound then a familiar squeak I recognize as she gets back in bed. I load the tray with food and smile to myself. Today is all about her, and this is the first of many surprises.

She’s propped up on her pillows when I enter with the tray in my hands, watching the door. Her eyes grow wide and start to shine when she sees the stack of chocolate chip pancakes.

“You made me breakfast in bed?”

“So observant, can’t get anything past you,” I tease her, chuckling.

She narrows her gaze as her lips start to twitch, revealing a grin.

I set the tray on my nightstand and crawl in bed, leaning over to lift her between my legs. When she’s situated with her back pressed to my chest, I sweep her hair over her shoulder and tilt her chin back to me.

My lips touch hers lightly, and I immediately taste the spearmint from our toothpaste. She parts her lips, darting out her tongue, and I kiss her gently, taking my time to enjoy every second of her in my arms this morning. My whole body ignites with need, but I force myself to end the kiss and twist to bring the food to our laps. She leans back, her head resting on my shoulder.

“I’ve never had breakfast in bed before,” she tells me in a dreamy voice.

Mental note… make this a Christmas Day tradition.

“I’ve never served breakfast in bed before, so I’d say this makes us even.” I cut off a piece of pancake and move it to her mouth.

She moans so seductively, my cock goes ramrod stiff, the sound sending messages to my brain.

“These have hazelnut cream in them. It’s my absolute favorite. How’d you do this?”

“I got help from the master herself.”

She lifts up enough to look at my face, and her eyes start to glisten. “You called my mom?”

“I couldn’t take the risk of ruining your very favorite breakfast. It would be a colossal failure to start our Christmas with shitty pancakes.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her face fills with happiness before she moves back, so I can continue feeding her. We eat in silence, except for her occasional grumble of appreciation, furthering the throbbing in my dick.

When the plate is clean, I place the tray on the nightstand and circle my arms around her. “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

“Merry Christmas, Shaw.”

“Let’s go to the living room.”

“I can’t move. I’m too full. I haven’t eaten that much in a long time.”

My gut aches with pain and more guilt, but I force it aside, knowing today is a new start.