Page 35 of Duress
“I’m going to fuck you now, Everly. Do you want that?” He crawls up my body until he’s hovering over me, face to face, our lips millimeters from touching. I nod, still unable to function well enough to speak. Dane shakes his head, side to side, his eyes darkening with a dangerous admonishment. “Words, Everly. I want your words.”
Fuck, how did he go from bratty to daddy so fast?
A pitifulyesis the most I can muster, but Dane shakes his head again, his eyes narrowing in warning.
“Yes, what, Everly?”
“Yes, I want you to fuck me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Dane flashes a feral smile that temporarily stuns me with its beauty before he thrusts his hips, shunting himself into me to the hilt. My fingers claw into his arms in surprise from the intrusion. I hadn’t even realized he had taken his pants off. Sitting up, I pull his mouth to mine, fighting for some sense of control as he thrusts into me at a punishing rhythm. At this angle he’s so deep, he’s pounding directly on that spot that will completely destroy me. I’m clinging onto him for dear life as the first wave crashes into me, but he does not relent. He fucks methrough my orgasm until it builds into another one. This one has me digging my nails into his skin so hard I know I’m leaving marks, but it only seems to spur him on.
I’m afraid I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen as I gasp through the pleasure, forgetting how to breathe. He finally breaks our kiss and bites down on my neck as his body goes rigid, his cock pulsing in me as he comes. He holds me for what feels like an eternity while our hearts slowly come back down to a normal pace. He peppers sweet kisses delicately on my face, like I’m something precious that should be cared for. The slick feeling of shame slithers under my skin as remorse, that I once again failed to protect his heart, sets in.
CHAPTER 31
EVERLY
Desperate for a moment of solitude, I excuse myself abruptly from Dane’s hold, so he won’t see exactly how close I am to the edge of having a mental breakdown. His stunned look of rejection is a stab in my heart, and causes my stomach to churn with the urge to vomit thanks to the crushing wave of guilt. Once in the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face, but it doesn’t do much to hide the anguish churning inside of me. Anguish not from having once again cheated on my husband, surprisingly enough. As I study my reflection in the mirror, eyes red-rimmed and glassy, I realize I don’t feel anything but hollowness when I think of Bryce. No, the sorrow I feel is from knowing I don’t deserve for Dane to look at me like I am something precious, worth protecting. Worthy of being cherished by him. If he only knew the truth… The only option I have now is to make sure we find a way to make Bryce pay for his crimes.
When I’m finally calm enough to go back to the office, Ifind all the papers that had fallen on the floor once again neatly stacked on the desk. Dane sits in Bryce’s chair, shuffling one last folder back into order. When he hears my approach, he looks up from his work, his face softening from determined concentration to something far more affectionate as he drinks me in. Guilt still churns in my gut, but it is at war with my newfound determination. I will not let myself wallow in self-pity and doubt. Not when it’s still within my power to right this wrong.
Dane rises from his seat and strides over to me, “Are you okay, Ever? I’m sorry if I pushed too hard. I just… I can’t be near you and not be with you. Not after finally having you. There is no going back for me. Not now. I hope you understand that.” His words wrap around my heart, binding it more securely to him. I can’t help but lean into his touch when he puts his arms around me, savoring this brief moment of security. Whatever happens between us in the future, I will forever cherish these memories of the way he mademefeel treasured. It’s been so long since Bryce made me feel loved. Valued. Adored. I will not continue to live this half life of being his show pony he trots out when it is convenient for him or his career. I am done compromising on my morals for his ambition.
“I’m fine. I just needed a minute.” I force a reassuring smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “We should get back to work.” I try to move past Dane, but he wraps his muscular arms around me, enveloping me in a bear hug. I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head, and that gentle sign of affection has me melting into his body.
“Talk to me, Ever. Tell me what’s going on in thatbeautiful head of yours.” He runs one rough hand up my back to the nape of my neck and begins massaging out the tension that has been building in my muscles for the last week. With every press of his skillful fingers, my body relaxes, molding against his. Dane’s compassion feels so foreign to me right now, I can’t help but lower my defenses.
“I’m sad, Dane. The man I married isn’t who I thought he was, and I’m stupid for not noticing it sooner. I’ve blithely lived this pampered life, willfully ignoring the red flags as they multiplied. Looking back, the signs were all there, and I just…ignored them. I let myself believe the lie that he was more good than bad. That he was still the man that rescued me from being assaulted and not just another manipulative, power hungry sycophant. Someone willing to trade justice for favors. I am complicit because I went along with it. Never questioning if it was worth the black mark on my soul. I feel sick over it.”
I give him as much of my truth as I can. The urge to confess everything is strong. So fucking strong. But I don’t dare. I don’t want to bring it up unless I know for sure we can find a way to prove Bryce’s guilt beyond a shadow of reasonable doubt. I don’t want to risk telling Dane the truth and not being able to prove it, allowing Bryce to remain free. If I only get one chance at making this right, I do not want to fuck it up. Silent tears slide down my cheeks, dampening the fabric of the threadbare navy BFPD T-shirt he is wearing, making it look almost black.
“Shh, listen to me, Ever.” The hand that was kneading my neck moves up to gently stroke my hair, making me want to purr like a kitten. “You are not responsible forBryce’s actions. Bryce’s choices are his own. He chose his career. He chose the path of arguing for the damned instead of helping the victims. That’s not on you.”
“But—”
“No buts, Everly. It’s. Not. On. You. It’s not on you anymore than it’s on me, or our mom. I know she didn’t raise him to put his desires and wants ahead of what is right. And I’ve known he’s a dick for years now. He used your love for him as a shield and kept you blind to what was really going on behind the scenes. Now you’ve seen how the sausage gets made, and you know it’s wrong. The only thing you can control now is what you do with that information now that you know. There are so many men out there like Bryce, doing the same thing, day in and day out. We can’t stop them all, but maybe we can stop Bryce.”
Dane’s words worm their way under my skin and into my head, gnawing at the broken pieces of my conscience. The burden of guilt that’s been hanging around my neck like an albatross seems to grow heavier at forgiveness I don’t deserve but greedily drink in anyway. I can’t find the words to express how much I needed to hear him tell me it’s not my fault, that maybe there is a chance of real forgiveness in my future, so I just tighten my hold around his waist, holding on to this feeling, praying he will still feel this way when he knows the full extent of the damage Bryce has done.
“Come on; let’s eat some dinner, then we can get back to work, okay?”
At his suggestion, my stomach lets out an embarrassing rumble, reminding me that I skipped breakfast in my hasteto begin my search of Bryce’s office, meaning I haven’t eaten all day. My ADHD has a way of making me forget everything, including basic needs like eating, until my body starts to shut down in protest. That explains the lack of focus I had while combing through those files for the last hour. It wasn’t because Dane is ridiculously attractive when he’s in investigation mode. Well, notjustbecause he’s ridiculously attractive. Dane lets out a low chuckle that makes his chest rumble against my cheek, and the sensation causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach. I need to get some distance between us before I am tempted to go for round two and wind up passing out embarrassingly from hunger.
“Good idea. I’ll make us some grilled cheese sandwiches.”
Dane follows me into the kitchen, trailing so close behind me I can still feel the heat from his body. He immediately gets to work pulling the pan down from the hanging rack above our kitchen island, while I dig through the fridge looking for ingredients. When he sees me turn from the refrigerator, both hands laden with multiple types of cheese, his eyes go wide in surprise.
“What? I like cheese, okay?” My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I dump the, admittedly ridiculous, number of dairy products on the quartz countertop before diving back in for the butter and other ingredients.
“Umm…” Dane looks baffled by the spread in front of him. There are at least five kinds of cheese, prosciutto, fig jam, mustard, spinach, apple slices, pre-cooked bacon, pesto, and tomatoes. “Are you putting all of that on the sandwich?”
Laughing, I start dividing the pile of ingredients into different options. Brie with fig jam and prosciutto. Cheddar with apple slices. Mozzarella with tomato and pesto. Provolone with shaved roast beef. And of course, American cheese with bacon.
“I wind up eating a lot of dinners alone, so when I know Bryce won’t be home, I usually just make a grilled cheese. I experiment a lot, and these are some of my favorite combinations.”
Dane laughs as he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, resting his head gently against mine.
“Well then, I think I’m gonna need you to school me on the art of melted cheese and bread, because I’ve only ever done white bread with Kraft singles and butter.”
