“It’s always been you for me, too,” I whisper back, feeling the truth in the words and hoping he can, too, despite that they’re his own sentiment echoed back to him.
“Madison, I’m so in love with you, I don’t know how to exist without you. If I lose you, I lose everything.”
I suck in a breath, feeling the ache in his words before I see the tears welling in his eyes. I hold his face in both my hands, gently running my thumb under the corner of his eye to sweep away the tear. I want to console him, but I swallow down the gentle words because I can see he’s not done.
“This is my chance to undo the damage I’ve caused—to keep more from happening. My chance to make up for the worst mistake of my life. I want so badly to see this program finally destroyed… But I’d walk away from it all to avoid losing you,” he confesses.
He’s not saying it to manipulate me into backing down—he’s letting me in. Finally. Completely.
I exhale noisily through my nose and slide my hands down to rest on his shoulders. “You won’t—you don’t have to. Because we’re all in this together. You’re not alone. You don’t have to face this alone. It doesn’t have to be your fault anymore. It ends tomorrow.”
He nods, almost absently. “Tomorrow means no more General. Tomorrow means no morehitmen. Tomorrow, it all… ends.”
Another piece of the emotional puzzle locks into place, twisting that dread a little harder in my stomach. Tomorrow, Wesley loses the purpose that’s beendriving him for years. He loses the thing that’s been holding everyone together. He’s afraid of losing himself.
I have no control over any of that, but I know one thing for damn sure. He’s not going to lose me. And if he loses his purpose, I’ll help him find another one. If he loses his family, I’ll be there. If he loses himself, I’ll pick up the pieces and Krazy glue them back together.
There’s so much certainty in how I feel about him, I’m a little intimidated by it. He’s afraid of losing me? Well, I’m afraid of losing him. We just have to trust the plan and trust each other.
“It’s not tomorrow yet,” I point out. I shift in his lap, straddling his legs and, pressing the full length of my body against him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. “Tonight I want to be just Madison and Wesley. Not SpyderMan and mermaidav. Not Sir and brat. Nothing between us, no roles we’re playing or games… just love.”
He grins, stroking my upper arms gently. “Oh, there is plenty of love within our Sir and brat dynamic,” he counters.
I scowl in irritation. “Okay, yeah, I know. I was trying to be all deep and symbolic, and you’re ruining it.”
“Sorry,” he says, completely devoid of contrition.
“Kiss me, Wesley.”
He makes a strangled sound, full of relief and eagerness and greed. The pull of his mouth echoes in all my most sensitive places—the sides of my neck, the tips of my breasts, the dips of the soft skin above my hips, and then finally between my legs. It pulses through my veins, inflaming and filling me with a desperation to be as close as physically possible.
Towels disappear, lube is retrieved from the bedside table, and I find myself on my back. When he sinks into me, I muffle my cry against his shoulder.
“I love you,” I tell him, stroking my hands up his back and trying to infuse the words with as much emotion as I can.
“I love you,” he says back, punctuating his sentence with a roll of his hips that changes the angle and makes me quiver. Then he stills, so deeply embedded inside of me that we feel like a single entity. He drops his head to my shoulder.
“I love you,” he whispers again, then pulls back. His expression is strained.
I reach up and stroke his cheek with the tips of my fingers. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t think it’s going to happen for me tonight. I’m too…”
“In your own head?” I finish, feeling the words lift off my lips like they’ve got wings.
“Yeah,” he confirms.
A fizzy kind of happiness settles in my stomach. I’m not sure there’s anything he ever could have said that would have made me feel more connected to him than that. Because, yeah, I know exactly how that feels—not great—and he’s opening up in the moment instead of hiding from it. He knows I know how he feels, so he’s sharing it with me.
“I’d like to just hold you instead, I think.”
I trace a heart shape on his back with my nail, making him shiver. “I’d really like that.”
43
Mac, Eleanor, Nicole and Dimitri
Mac
