I glance over my shoulder at King, smiling. “Teething?” But my smile slowly ebbs at his intense, bright stare. “What?” I whisper.
“Stay.”
There’s more there. I can hear it in the deep, slightly hoarse tone that carries the same intensity as his gaze. I’m not sure what I’m missing, but it echoes inside me, and I shiver.
“Okay.”
8
King
“Seeing Gunner again didn’t hurt you like it did before.”
Lennon’s hand pauses in the lazy circle she’d been drawing on my chest at my observation. Her body stills, and for a moment, I don’t think she’s going to respond, but then she sighs and sits up, tugging the blanket up to cover her breasts.
“I need to apologize for my reaction to him those weeks ago. I never have.”
“No, you don’t,” I say, shifting until my back aligns with the headboard. “You don’t ever have to apologize for expressing how you feel. Or even feeling that way.”
“Yes, I do. It was selfish.” She folds her arms around her stomach and rocks just a little. “I held that beautiful little boy and instead of seeing his precious, valuable life, all I saw was what I was missing. What I didn’t have. And yes, that’s selfish.” She releases another sigh and nods. “But no, seeing him tonight, holding him, playing with him… It didn’t hurt me. He’s so sweet and happy. And that kind of happiness only comes from a little boy who knows he’s loved and he's safe and secure. You’re a great father, King.”
I look away from her because she can’t comprehend what that means to me. How I worry if I’m doing right by Gunner. How I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes afraid I’m going to screw him up because I only had a positive father figure for ten years. For her to tell me I’m a great father…
It means the world coming from her.
“Will you tell me about how you found out about him? Were you…together?”
She’s wearing a carefully blank expression, and I don’t know if my answer is going to make her feel better—or worse.
“No.” I shake my head. “I get how this is going to make me look, but I don’t remember being with her. Even when we were across from each other in my attorney’s office for the first and final time when she signed over custody of Gunner to me, I still didn’t recognize her. We must’ve had sex when I was high, drunk or both. I was no prize back then. But neither was she. And I’m not talking about because she fucked a man she didn’t know. I mean because she found out who my agent was and dropped Gunner off in his car seat at his office.”
Lennon’s head jerked back. “You’re lying.”
“I wish I was. The only way we tracked her down was the CCTV camera outside my agent’s office. It caught her tag number.”
“That’s fucked up,” she snaps, fury lacing her voice.
“My manager and agent tried to convince me to turn him over to child protective service, but I took one look at him and knew the truth. I let them run a DNA test but I took him home with me that day. Just weeks out of rehab and I became a father. Of a six-month-old. But he gave me even more of a reason to keep clean. I didn’t save him, it’s the other way around.”
She nods. A small frown creases her brow, and her eyes grow unfocused. But after a moment, it clears. And she glances at me.
“What happened there? What were you thinking just now?” I ask.
“I…” Her hand flutters as if she’s attempting to conjure the words but failing.
“Just say it, Lennon,” I gently push.
“Right.” She drags in a breath then slowly releases it. “Back in the garage breakroom you said you had looked back and never stopped caring. Was that…” She pauses and her throat works. “Was that true?”
“Fuck yes,” I breathe. She blinks at the fierceness in my voice but I can’t hold back. Iwon’thold back. There are other secrets between us, but this won’t be one of them. “Not one day in the past ten years has gone by when I haven’t thought about you. Dreamt about you. Fucked my fist to you. Closed my eyes and fucked someone else wishing they were you.” She closed her own eyes, but I surge forward, grabbing her chin. “Look at me, Lennon. My truth is ugly as fuck. I’ve never pretended otherwise. But that’s what it is.”
“I shouldn’t have asked”
“Yes, you should’ve,” I insist, giving her head a small shake. “Do you know how it’s possible for me to write love songs? You. You’re the reason. I’ve tasted love before, drowned in it. Even after I fucked it up, I still had the memory to survive off of. It was so good, so strong, I could write about what I’d known. Did I look back? Did I care? If I didn’t, I don’t know how I would’ve made it through the last ten years, baby.”
She stares at me, so still. So damn still.
Then, in a burst of movement, she knocks my hand away and crawls on top of me. Her mouth crushes down on me. And like we’re back in that small clearing in the woods, she explodes all over me in a flurry of desire. Mouth on mine, hands in my hair, pussy rubbing over my cock. Then sliding down my cock.