Page 43 of Tainted Wings of Failure

"No more lies, no more secrets. I promise," he says. My heart leaps, wanting to believe him, accept it, and move on. But he has proven to me in the past that his promises don't carry a lot of weight. My mind—my mind needs more.

"No more solo efforts as well," I say. His eyebrows furrow as he takes in my words. He tilts his head in a nod, his lips parting about to say something, but I move my hand from his cheek and place a finger over his lips. "We're in this together, okay? You and me. We've taken the first steps in the right direction, so no more shutting me out. If we're going to make this work, you have to let me in. Completely." He remains quiet, his eye darting over my face, and I can tell he's thinking about my words. "I need to know you trust me enough to let me help you. No more of this 'I have to deal with this on my own' bullshit. If you’re going through something, if you’re facing something—whatever it is—we face it together."

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, then nods with a sigh. "Together," he agrees. "I promise."

"Good." My lips curve into a sincere smile. I raise my other hand to his face, cup his cheeks in both of my hands, and pull him down in a kiss. "I love you, you idiot." I whisper against his lips.

"I love you too." He says, a low chuckle rattling from his chest as he slides both his arms around me and pulls me into another kiss. I allow myself to get lost in the moment, letting everything else fade away, the worries, the past, the future. It's just us, right here, surrounded by the birds he loves, and me, his favorite.

Chapter 26

Evelyn

Hugging my bathrobe close, I step out of our bedroom into the dark hallway. After spending nearly an hour out in the freezing cold with the birds, I excused myself to take a nice hot shower to warm up and get changed for the night.

Looking up and down the hallway, my eyes land on the thin strip of warm light creeping through the bottom of Noah's office door. Instead of going to bed, he has disappeared into his office to take care of some business. This man better not be planning anything. Yes, he is well enough to take care of his daily needs by himself again, but if he tries anything stupid, I will not hesitate to lock him in the basement.

In a couple of steps I reach the door and knock. "Come in." He calls and I wrap my fingers around the handle, turn it and push in. The moment the door swings open, my eyes land on Noah. The room is dark except for the flickering light from the fireplace, which illuminates him as he sits in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, still dressed in his button-up and suit pants. A week ago, he started to dress up again, getting back into his routine step by step. He is sitting comfortably leaning back in the cushions holding a glass of whiskey.

My focus remains on his hand for a little while longer. He's still on a number of different medications, and he shouldn't be drinking while he's dealing with the aftermath. But I've come to accept that a glass every other night won't kill him. In fact, he seems even more relaxed since I caved and stopped scolding him for drinking.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I cross the room and come to a halt in front of him. "How are you feeling?" I ask, twirling the ends of my robes belt between my fingers.

"I'm fine. I didn't think I'd say this, but I'm enjoying the peace and quiet." My eyes widen the moment the words leave his lips, and I realize that, except for the soft crackling of the fire, there is no other noise—no birds chirping, no music, no TV show, nothing.

"That's fantastic!" A broad smile spreads across my face as my heart swells with pride. I step around the small coffee table and lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek.

His lips curve into a lazy smile as he looks me up and down, his eyebrows raised. He lifts a hand and twirls a strand of my hair around his fingers. "Your hair is down, aren't you going to bed?"

"No." My smile turns into a smirk. "I had something else in mind."

"And what would that be?"

I take a step back, straighten my posture, and in one smooth motion I pull at the ends of my robe, the fabric loosening around my shoulders as I let it sink to the floor around me. Noah's eye widens, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallows, his gaze roaming over my body as he takes in the sight of me dressed in white, see-through lace lingerie.

Not waiting for his reaction, I nudge my leg into his kneecap and like on autopilot he spreads his legs, allowing me to step in between. My heart drums against my ribcage, nervous, excited as his eye follows my every move. I reach for his whiskey, snatch the glass from his hand, raise it to my lips and empty it. But instead of swallowing, I drape my arms around his shoulders, lean down and press my lips to his, forcing the liquor into his mouth.

A low grunt rattles through his throat as he accepts the drink from me, swallowing it with ease. I'm about to pull away when his hands land on my hips and he yanks me onto his lap, shoving his tongue into my mouth and pulling a whimper out of me.

I tighten my arms around his shoulders, bringing my hands to rest on the back of his head, my fingers weaving through his hair as I respond to the kiss with equal passion. His hands slide from my hips to my ass, guiding me as I roll my hips in a fluid motion into his growing erection.

My breathing picks up as I grind against his bulge, the covered zipper of his pants catching my aching clit and drawing a quiet moan from me. My arousal seeps through the sheer fabric of my thong and stains his pants in no time. I've been craving him for so long, my body betraying me with its desperation.

A loud groan escapes his throat as I roll my hips into his once more but I break away from the kiss. I trail soft kisses from the corner of his mouth across his cheek to the scar where his right eye used to be, brushing my lips against the rigid skin. "I love you," I whisper, moving on until I reach the scar where his ear once was. "I love every scar on your body." I pull back just enough to look at him, his bright green eye staring back at me. Sliding my hands from his hair to his face, I cup his cheeks in my palms. "You will always be the most attractive man for me."

"Dove..." His lips part, but I press a finger against them to silence him.

"I mean it," I insist, my gaze locked on his eye. "They show that you went through hell and came out the other side. They show how dangerous, how unhinged you are. And that... that drives me crazy." My heart races as I speak, the words tumbling out with a mixture of awe and lust.

He chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that ripples through his chest. His remaining eye darkens with lust and something deeper, something that has always drawn us together, our primal need for each other. His hand slides to my neck, his fingers curling around my throat as his thumb brushes over my pulse and draws a gasp from me. "Show me," he demands, his voice rough and raw.

Following his command, I smash my lips against his, urgent and hungry, pouring every emotion into it as I lose myself in the familiar rhythm. Sheer desperation runs through our veins, his hands busy exploring every exposed inch of my skin, his fingers dipping beneath the sheer fabric of my lingerie. His need, his desperation to be reassured, to know that I still want him, still crave him, is evident as his rough fingertips tremble against my skin.

Without wasting another second, I slip my fingers through the narrow openings of his button tape and rip his shirt open, completely ignoring the flying buttons. I place my hands flat against his exposed chest, the touch of his skin sending a jolt between my legs, my clit throbbing with need. Tracing the curves of his muscles, my fingers brush against the many scars that mark his skin as I travel lower. With a quick, skillful twist of my wrists, I unbuckle his belt, undo the button on his pants, and push the zipper down. We break from the kiss and our eyes meet. Our ragged breathing mixes between us, tickling my skin.

No words are necessary and he lifts his hips off the cushions, allowing me, despite the awkward position, to push the fabric of his pants and boxers far enough to free his raging hard erection. "Let me make you feel good," I say, wrapping my fingers around his shaft, earning a low moan from him. My lips curl into a smile as I pump my hand up and down his length, his pulse drumming beneath my fingertips.

"Hang on a second," Noah says between ragged breaths, his fingers wrapping around my wrist and stopping me.

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