The Arrangement 25 (The Ferro Family) Page 4

  My lashes lower, fanning across my cheek, as I try to remain in control. Simmer down. But thinking of his lips and the way they lock on mine. The taste of his mouth. The way I could press his back to the wall and press my body against him. The thought of that hot kiss is all consuming. There’s no part of me that doesn’t respond when he’s this close, a breath away. The steady pounding of my heart increases as my body heats. What would I do to him? If he was truly vulnerable, unable to escape—is that really appealing to me?

  When I spit out the words, I’m almost laughing at the absurdity of my statement. “I’m not a dominatrix.”

  “No one is asking you to be.” His voice is deep, rich, and utterly sincere. He wants to set me free. I feel it. The way he watches me, the way his eyes bore into me, makes that truth undeniable.

  Something deep within my soul calls out to him on a feral level and it scares me. No, it’s more than fear. It’s terrifying. The thought steals my breath and sends shivers down my spine. I don’t know what to do with that rough craving and never have—so I pretended it wasn’t there. But standing here now, knowing he won’t judge me for it, realizing he wants this part of me. It changes things.

  If I believe him. Why is it so hard to accept the truth? Why do I assume everyone prefers lies and pretty words? Especially Sean. That man has never been about sugary words. His bluntness could make me bleed if he chose to unleash his tongue in that manner on me. But he’s not. Not now. Not with this. His eyes haven’t left my face. The way he searches me, as if he can see through my skin and into my heart still haunts me. I don’t look in those places. I can’t accept this, so how can he?

  That’s when I suck in a jagged breath and push past him. I pad over to the table and sit. Sometimes there are no words. But it’s my fault this go. Hiding my eyes from him creates a barrier between us. It’s wafer-thin, but it’s better than his soul-searching stare. I lift my glass and tip back the rest of my cider.

  Sean’s eyes are on me, but he doesn’t say anything. After a few beats, he turns away and walks down the hall. The sound of the shower turning on follows a few moments later.

  The tightness around my heart eases and I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed.

  CHAPTER 8

  The next morning, neither of us mentions the night before, the confession I almost made. I can’t tell if Sean is disappointed or relieved. I’m sitting on the couch in fugly maternity PJs that I thought would look cute, but they just make me feel lost. Pursing my lips, I blow gently on the cup of tea in my hands. The glass is hot and warms my cold fingers. A drape of dark hair falls over my shoulder as I tip my head and look out at the rising city. Amber light spills from the horizon as the sun slowly climbs into the sky. The light slips over the murky darkness littered with lights, casting the city in a heavenly glow.

  Sleep was evasive last night. I finally gave up and let Sean have the bed to himself about an hour ago. He didn’t follow me. It’s almost like he’s giving me space, time away that I didn’t ask for—I’m not sure I need it. He’s annoyingly astute at times. Like with the maternity clothes and the inky part of me that’s sucking the glitter out of my veins.

  Maybe I don’t want to admit that part of me is gone. The piggy kite and the girl laughing on the beach. The girl who wore no coat to let the cold seep in because she wanted to feel something. Now I feel so much I’m trying to block it out. I don’t know how to experience this. My life took a weird turn, one I never saw coming. And instead of riding the storm through to the other side, the line to my dingy snapped and I flew out to sea.

  Putting my lips to the rim of the mug, I take a sip and savor the heat that runs down my throat. An image of Sean in the shower, of his bottles of body wash, of the things we did—how he tastes—rushes me all at once. I swat at the memories, trying to push them away. The tank. The box. The fear that I once felt has been replaced with something else. I can’t tell if it’s curiosity or retribution. I’m angry. I know that, but is it that simple? That my dark desires are just because I want payback for a life I can’t control? For the times when Sean stole bits of freedom.

  Something in my mind snaps at me, denying that, knowing those thoughts aren’t true. I want what I want. While rage and anger may be part of it, those feelings aren’t because of Sean. So, I shouldn’t aim my fury at him. Right?

  Sighing, I put my mug on the coffee table in front of me and bury my face in my hands. My hair falls around my face, hiding me from the world. What’s my problem? I’ve already done dark sexual acts with him. Why is it so hard to admit it’s me initiating things this time? That I want to control him in bed. That I want the pain and pleasure mix right now. When did Sean turn into a ray of sunshine? It’s almost as if we flipped roles in this relationship.

  “I didn’t hear you leave.” Sean’s voice is behind me, still addled with sleep.

  Startled because I’m too lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize he’s there until he speaks. At the sound of his voice, my heart jumps into my throat. My hand flies to my chest as I suck in air. Glancing at him through the wall of hair, I laughingly scold, “You’re a goddamn cat, sometimes.”

  Sean sits down hard on the couch next to me. His hair is tousled and his eyes are still heavy with sleep. There’s a toddler-esque lostness on his face this early in the morning that I rarely get to see. I wonder if the babies inside me will be wide awake like me in the mornings or take a bit to shake off sleep the way Sean does.

  A crooked smile spills across his lips, as he reaches for my tea. His eyes are looking out at the city, as he says in a deep husky voice, “Meow.”

  A snort escapes me. It’s so unexpected that a blaring chortle follows. A smile drips from my lips and fades as fast as it appeared. “I don’t know how you do that.”

  Sean lifts a dark brow as he swallows the tea. His lip curls at the taste before he sets it down again. “I think we need to do something different today.”

  Sean never drinks tea. Like ever. It was odd he picked it up. “Yeah? Like drink tea or did you think that was coffee?”

  He inhales slowly and turns those sapphire eyes my way. A thrill bursts inside of me when he looks at me like that, as if I’m a goddess and he can’t look away from me. I shove his shoulder and tuck wayward curls behind my ear. “Stop it.”

  “What?” He smiles back as if he’s not looking at me with sex on his mind. “I’m just wondering why you’re dressed all cute instead of wearing the black lace you got from Bella.” He yawns and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him.

  “There’s a practical issue with some of the pajamas.”

  “Really? Like what?”

  Resting my head against his shoulder, I breathe him in. “It’s hard to stay cool in leather. I’m always cold, but at night, I’ve been too hot lately.”

  “Mmmm. It’s because you’re lying next to me.” His fingers stroke my hair as I feel a grin lift his cheeks.

  “Oh, hot damn. Call the fireman.” My voice is light and teasing.

  Sean snorts, and asks me, “Really? You like that song?” He lifts his head and examines me as if the awful truth of falling prey to catchy pop music will be the end of us.

  “You listen to the Spice Girls when no one is around, so don’t judge.”

  He nods slowly, not denying it. His face is placid, eyes still sleepy when he says, “So tell me what you want, what you really, really want.”

  I can’t help it. I laugh so hard that the joy of the moment shoots through my entire body, rocking me forward and out of his embrace. As I bust a rib laughing, he sits there, serene. He reaches for me, pushes my hair over my shoulder so the tangle of curls rests on my back.

  When I finally stop choking on laughter, I glance over at him, but the giggles take hold. Every time I think of it, I start laughing again.

  Sean’s voice is flat, deadpan. “If I knew you’d be so responsive to my singing, I would have made more of an effort ages ago.”

  I fall backward, into him, allo
wing his arms to envelope me. His warmth surrounds me and, in that moment, I’m not torn, worried, or lost. I’m Avery and he’s Sean. And that’s enough. A calm settles over us as we cuddle and watch the city come alive on the streets below.

  “I love this view.” I’m thinking of watching the seasons change from this window. The contrast between black pavement and nature contained to the park across the way is alluring. Asphalt and flowers living side by side, in a weird juxtaposed harmony. There will be flames of orange and crimson on the trees come Autumn. A Christmas tree with twinkling lights in the winter will block the statute of the man on the horse at the park’s entrance. Followed by pink blossoms on cherry trees in the spring. Come summer, everything will be lush and green.

  “So do I.” Sean rest’s his head on top of mine. He’d been looking at me. His gaze slides over my body, the curves that grow more pronounced every day.

  At times I wonder if he’s afraid. He lived through this part of marriage and pregnancy before. My mood swings must be worrisome for him but he never says anything.

  It’s as if he reads my mind because he says softly, “This is my favorite time of day. It’s filled with promise and the newness of life. Even in the winter when everything is stripped clean and there’s not a spot of green to be seen. The way the light flows over the buildings, down the streets, and into the park…” his voice trails off and he shrugs. “I don’t know. There’s just something about it.”

  “Hope?” My question hangs in the air and he nods slowly, his stubble catching in my hair a little.

  “I think so. It’s strange.”

  “What is?”

  “I never thought I’d be here, in the city again. Not for this long. With love. With a family. With a wife and babies on the way. I thought my chance at that had passed. I didn’t step foot in Manhattan unless I had to.”

  “I’m glad you did.” My mind drifts back to when I first saw him. To the day in the graveyard. “Grief makes strange lives.”

  He nods a few times. Then adds, “It paves a path. I had to decide which one to pursue. There were several to choose from, some that would have destroyed me. I thought I didn’t deserve this.”

  “And now you do?” A confession like this from him is rare. I’m assuming it’s because of last night, but it could be because things are changing again, for both of us.

  He shifts us and pulls away so he can see me. “There’s a lack of gratitude in thinking I deserve anything. No, it’s not that. It’s not that I deserve it. Or earned, hell knows I didn’t do that.” He grins that perfectly sexy crooked smile and runs his hand through his dark hair, and then over the top of his head, stopping at the nape of his neck.

  He lowers his lashes before shifting his blue gaze to meet mine. “Gratitude is a stoic explanation, falling incredibly short of how I feel to be here now, with you. My life was obliterated and I felt every second of it. It changed me. I welcomed the onslaught. That, I deserved that.” Before I can tell him he did not, he lifts his hand to silence me. “It’s the presumptuous-ass method of moving through life. Blame and rage controlled me. But that’s not what I see in you. That conversation we had last night—Avery, you still have hope. It still beats in your chest and sparkles in your eyes. That unyielding desire to share life, that you think it’s a blessing. You changed me.”

  “I put you through hell.” My gaze drops to my hands as I thread my fingers together. The memories of all the ways I’ve hurt him rush at me in an unyielding flash. The lump in my throat tightens.

  His hand comes near, and he puts a finger under my chin, pulling me back toward him. “You freed me from hell. And I’ll do the same for you. I promise. Nothing you can say or do will scare me off. I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses my forehead and pulls me into his chest, hugging me.

  The reassurance I needed to hear. The man has this innate quality of knowing what I need to hear and when to say it. It’s a weakness that he can read me so easily, but shutting him out is the last thing I want to do.

  Bashful, I smile up at him. That’s what you get when the old me and the new me collide—blushes. I try to hide them, but I can’t. And it’s happening more and more lately. “What if I told you something? Something I wanted to do to you.”

  This new line of questioning piques his interest. “Oh? And what would that be Miss Smith?”

  Pressing my lips together, I decide to tell him. It’s a way to see if I want to go there with him again. If I want to be the one that brings this back into our bed. I lean into his ear and slip my tongue over my lips, saying the one thing that’s been going through my mind since he sat down. My cheeks burn as I confess, and the pit of my stomach swirls at the words.

  Sean has a serene smile on his face and knows to keep his gaze forward while I speak. He soaks in my confession and after a moment of silence, he glances at me. “That’s what you want? Teeth?”

  My entire face burns as I hide in the crook of his neck. As if someone else could hear. “Yes. And you. Tied to the chair. And me. Between your legs doing whatever I want.”

  His lips twitch and before I can finish what I’m saying, I can see that he likes the idea. His boxer briefs hug every inch of him, presenting me with a rather large compliment. “That sounds, well, you can see how it sounds.” He shifts on the couch, aroused.

  “Really?”

  “Avery,” he glances at me with an incredulous smile on his lips. It tugs at the corners every so slightly, not in mocking laughter, but amazement. “You could literally do anything to me and I’d let you. I’d love to see where this takes you. I’d love to be the one you rage on, the one who frees you from it. And it’s not because turnabout is fair play. It’s because I want to walk that path with you, if you’ll let me. I want to see where you go, what you choose because I love you. Picket fences, piggy kites, dollar menus, and this provocative possession you want to exert over me. I want you. All of you.” His hand rests on my cheek in a gesture of reassurance.

  I nod and shift my gaze to the side, no longer trying to repress a shy smile. “You aren’t worried I’ll break? That this path ends in destruction?”

  “Trust yourself, Avery. I do. With every ounce of my being. You’re stronger than you realize, more ferocious than tame, and that’s exactly what you need to be right now. Do you really not see how that fits with being a young mother?”

  I blink at him, astounded. My brows knit together as I think about it. “No, I didn’t see that at all.” I was too busy hiding my feelings about this from him. Too upset thinking I’ve turned into a deviant. That I’m not the soft, pliant woman I once was. Okay, now I’m lying to myself. I’ve never been completely bendable. I’ve always held back part of me, and this throws it all out there. No hiding anything, because that kind of sex is dripping with emotions for me.

  “Tell me what you want, Avery.”

  The corners of my lips tip up in a playful smirk. “You. Now.”

  CHAPTER 9

  I rest my hand on my twins just in time to feel a tiny foot slam into my lower rib. I wince and close my eyes. My due date came and went. I’d jump on a trampoline if I thought I could roll out of this bed.

  Sean’s jaw is covered in dark stubble, his hair longer these days than when we first met. It falls over his forehead, past his eyebrows, and just reaches his dark lashes. His lips pull into a smile. “It’s been over forty weeks of compliments. My repertoire is thin these days.”

  I can’t help it. I want to pout. I try to fold my arms over my chest, but that’s enormous too, so I basically hit myself in the face with my forearms. Grumbling, I mutter obscenities as Sean inches closer, strokes a hand across my face. “You’re almost there, Avery.”

  Glancing up at him, our eyes meet. I know this is the beginning of a new life for us. Everything starts over here. It’s a chance to heal old wounds and begin fresh. I want that more than anything. The thought of childbirth no longer frightens me. I want to hold these little girls in my arms and smile at them.

  “Do
you think they’ll look like me or you?” I ask as I slip my arms around him and pull him close.

  Sean barks a laugh, “They better look like you. A woman with this face would be awful.” He teases me, says other things to make me smile, and then stands. We have names selected, perfect baby girl names.

  Sean pads across the room and pulls open the curtains, knowing how much I love the sunlight, and how miserable it’s been to be trapped in this bed for the past few weeks. Bedrest sucks. Sean stands with his back to me, looking through the handblown glass. The sunlight flashes on his naked body in curved pieces of light. The strength of his back, all the way down to that toned butt, and muscular legs that look so appealing.

  My mind wanders to what my body looked like before and how it’s a train wreck now. Before I know what happened, I’m blubbering about how beautiful he is and how fat I am—I sound like a hormonal mess.

  Sean is there, sitting with me again, stroking my brow, kissing my cheek, and telling me things I didn’t realize. “Do you know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off of you?”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  He smiles sheepishly. “I swear, I’m not. The idea of fucking my pregnant wife is intoxicating. When the doc said hands off, I thought I’d die. Avery, these past few months have been more difficult for me than you could imagine. I know how horrible you feel, but it’s like your beauty has been amplified. Your sexiness is off the charts. I mean look at these.” He slides the pad of his finger down the side of my chest, following the generous sweep of my breast. His gaze is hot, lingering like he wants to dip his head and devour me.

  “I miss you.” The confession is off my lips before I have time to think about it. We never talked about this part because we couldn’t do it.