“No.”
“You have secure locations, and that’s one of them. You brought me with you there because you knew it to be safe. She wasn’t killed there because itwassafe, and we both know that if you’d been anywhere else, you would have feared that someone would’ve hurt me. You know that you’d have done literally anything in your power to protect me.”
“Of course.”
Lyam needs to make peace with the fact that he can’t wrap me in foam wrap and ensure that no one, ever, hurts me or our child.
“Then stop beating yourself up already.” I shake my head.
Turning to me, he gives me a hint of a smile before he shakes his own head and lifts the covers. “You’re the only one who gets away with talking to me like that.”
“Good. Then things are as they should be.” I smile, but it feels forced. I haven’t put to rest my fears, or my deep-seated need to flee when things get good, because getting closer to him and having my hopes dashed will destroy me. I can’t let them. I can’t lethim.
Lyam is distracted.
“Lyam?”
My heart begins to beat faster with nerves. This time, I’m not sure the rolling nausea is related to hormones. “Lyam, talk to me. What is it?”
“Here,” he says, still a million miles away. He hands me a mug of steaming tea that smells minty. “It’s that tea that helps.”
I sip it gratefully, my heart warming.
He knows what I need. He meets my needs.
I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze. He kisses my fingertips. Even when he’s troubled and hurt, he softens when he’s with me.
I want to do that for him. I want tobethat for him.
He doesn’t answer me at first, only sits beside me and lifts my hand to his mouth. He kisses my fingers, one by one.
“How are you feeling?” he asks softly.
Something feels off. I can’t put my finger on it. Something is unsettling and discouraging.
But when he kisses me again, my heart melts and my protests thaw like snow under rain. When his tongue licks mine, I moan and sink further into the bed, my arms encircling his neck as he continues to ravage me.
Soon, my body is heated and flushed with the need for more.
“Come here,” he says with a sad but wicked smile.
I tell myself he’s troubled by what happened. I tell myself he doesn’t like this any more than I do. He fights his demons and I fight mine.
We stop talking. He undresses me and pays particular attention to kissing my shoulders, the undersides of my breasts. He licks my nipples and strokes them while nudging my knees apart.
“Please,” I beg, my arms around his neck, begging for the only thing that will give me comfort and consolation—being closer to him.
He holds my gaze as he glides into me. I sigh at the feeling of being completely full, completely connected to him.
“I love you, Cosette,” he says softly. A rush of emotion chokes me. I swallow the lump in my throat.
“And I love you,” I respond in a trembling voice as my body starts to tense, the first beginning spasm of pleasure kissing my nerves. I moan as he tenses and shudders into his own release on the heels of mine. I give in to this fully, to the utter and perfect bliss, until he finally slumps against me. Our breathing unites, and he nestles his head on my chest.
I love Lyam Gerard. He’s not only the father of my child, he also owns my heart. But if the two of us are going to make this work, he needs nothing but the truth.
Thewholetruth.
I need to tell him. I need him to know the truth, so we can face this together.
