Page 61 of Twisted Fate

“Went straight to you tying my hands together and fucking me on your desk,” she offered in explanation, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

I groaned and gripped the back of her neck as I pressed my forehead to hers. “Don’t remind me. I’m trying to behave here, and you’re making that damn near impossible.”

She chuckled softly. “Sorry.”

“I want a real relationship with you, not the sneaking around and stolen kisses we had before. I don’t want to hide what we are to each other. I’m not ashamed of loving you.” She sucked in a sharp breath at my mention of love, but I kept going. It was no secret how I felt about her, and I wasn’t going to pretend that I was anything less than head over heels for her.

“Sure, our story had an unconventional start, but that doesn't make it wrong. Our timing was just off. But now that we’re in a different place, I want to try again.” Her wide eyes bounced between mine, a mixture of hope and trepidation shining in the vibrant blue depths. “What do you say?”

It took her a moment to respond, and my brow began to dampen as I nervously awaited her answer. Then finally, her eyes misted over, and she nodded her head, the breath catching in her throat. Relief washed over me as I pulled her into my chest. Kissing the top of her head, I held her close as tears gathered on my shirt. She was finally back in my arms where she belonged, and I’d never let her go again.

51

Delilah

Agreeingto date Vance and give us a second chance was the best decision I ever made. It wasn’t easy considering our … unique situation. Being the nanny to his adopted daughter who was biologically mine added an extra layer of complication, but we made it work. It also didn’t help that his family was slow to come around to the idea of us being together, but his mother eventually apologized to me once she saw that Vance would uphold his boundaries and not allow her in our lives if she didn’t. I never had any trouble out of her again.

Aunt Darla gave us her blessing, smiling through her tears as she wished us the best. That day, we cried together. Her approval was what I sought the most, and she granted it without hesitation.

My cousin Emily had her reservations, considering she’d seen me two days after our breakup when I looked like death warmed over. I’d spilled my guts to her about seeing Vance behind everyone’s back and how he’d stomped all over my heart. She’d been furious with him—and with me for not confiding in her sooner—and was ready to go over there and set him straight. Instead, Darla had gone after my mom enlightened her about the situation. It was a long time before I could look her in the eye after that. It felt like I was tarnishing her daughter’s memory by being with her husband so soon after her passing, but Darla reminded me that life was short—something she knew all too well—and we should be with the ones we loved.

Sarah’s memory would always be a part of our story and our family. Nothing could change that, and I didn’t want it to. She had been my saving grace when I was drowning in hopelessness and fear, wondering what I would do with a baby I couldn’t take care of. She’d given my daughter a happy life and raised her through the most crucial years of her childhood. I would always be grateful to her for that. I harbored no jealousy or resentment toward the woman Vance loved before me, and I never wanted any of us to forget her.

Being with Vance was everything I’d hoped for and more. He was attentive and passionate. He no longer held back or tried to hide his feelings for me. Once a week, he carved out time for just the two of us. He took me to dinner and the movies. Sometimes we went dancing or hung out with friends.

My mom and Darla took turns watching Charlie so we could go on dates. It was wonderful watching my mother bond with Charlie and experience the joy of having a grandchild, even if Charlie referred to her as Aunt Debra. One day we would tell Charlie the truth. One day, when she was old enough to understand, she would know I was the one who’d given birth to her and that I chose Vance and Sarah to give her the life I couldn’t. Thankfully, we had several years to figure out how we would tell her.

For the time being, Vance and I were trying to take things slow. We wanted to do things right this time, to give our relationship a fighting chance. That was hard to do when I knew how good he felt moving inside me and how he tasted on the back of my tongue. There was no denying how explosive our chemistry was, but we both wanted to form a deeper connection before jumping into bed again.

That lasted all of two weeks.

I was in Vance’s kitchen late one evening whipping up some frosting for a cake I’d made for my mom’s birthday. I wanted to surprise her with something special, and she loved my homemade buttercream. Vance strode in, freshly showered after putting Charlie to bed, and came up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I breathed in his clean, woodsy scent.

“That looks yummy,” he mused, placing his chin on my shoulder as I mixed in a splash of vanilla.

Dipping my finger into the frosting, I turned to face him. “Do you want to be my taste tester?” I asked, holding my finger up in offering. The corner of his mouth tipped up, but he didn’t reply. He simply leaned in and closed his lips over my finger, his eyes never leaving mine as he drew it farther into his mouth. I sucked in a sharp breath as heat gathered in my lower belly. He wrapped his fingers around my hand as he pulled back, slowly dragging my finger out of his hot mouth.

“Mmm,” he purred, licking his lips. “My second favorite flavor.”

“What’s your first?” I asked, breathless.

“Let me show you.”

In a flash, he lifted me in his arms, his hands gripping the backs of my thighs, and turned to set me on the island. He braced his hands on the sleek marble on either side of my hips as he captured my mouth with his.

“Lie back,” he commanded, and I immediately complied. “I haven’t been able to get the memory of how you taste out of my mind,” he confessed, hooking his fingers into my shorts. “I think about you riding my face and coming on my tongue all the time.”

A needy whimper left my lips when he dragged my panties down my legs, and my ass hit the cool countertop. He was going to feast on me right here in his kitchen.

His nose skimmed up my thigh and the crease of my leg. “Fuck, you smell so good. And your skin is so soft.” His palms splayed over my thighs and pushed them apart. A low groan rumbled up his throat as he took me in. I was completely bare to him, his face only a few inches from my core. I was already wet from his dirty words and heated gaze. Add to that more than half a year without his touch, and I was damn near ready to explode at the first swipe of his tongue.

My back bowed when he sucked the tender bud into his mouth, and I let out a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush. He hummed his approval against my skin, sending a shockwave of pleasure through my center. His hand slid up my thigh, his fingers parting me as he flicked his tongue over my clit. He entered me with two fingers, and I moaned at the fullness. He curled them forward, stroking my inner walls with a delicious friction that had me writhing and begging for more.

I cried out as my orgasm crested and broke, leaving me a limp and sated heap atop the island countertop. To my surprise, Vance climbed up there with me, settling his weight between my legs. His lips were slick with my release when he kissed me, and damn if that didn’t turn me on even more.

“So much for taking things slow,” I mused, and his face fell.

“Delilah, I’m sorry,” he began, pulling away from me. I gripped his biceps in an attempt to keep him close as panic filled his eyes. “I didn’t mean to rush you. If you’re not ready, we don’t have to—”

---