Page 38 of Our Shattered Pieces
I wanted to hold her in my arms and show her that she was something different to me when we weren’t fucking. When I was buried inside her, she was my slut, and I was the degenerate fortunate enough to call her mine. When I wasn’t buried inside her, she was just Molly.
Nothing more, nothing less.
“Go to sleep, baby,” I whispered in her ear. “It’s way late.”
“You staying?” she muttered.
The gentlemanly thing to do here would be to ask for her permission, but I wanted there to be no confusion about my feelings for her. “Yeah,” I told her. “I’m staying.”
“Good,” she sighed before snuggling closer.
As Molly drifted off back to sleep, I thought about how I was going to have to talk to Lorcan and Rowan when they got back from their honeymoon. They were due back tomorrow, but I didn’t want to blindside them with this before they had a chance to fall back into the swing of things after their honeymoon. I imagined there’s going to be a lot of jet lag going on with those two, so maybe a few days would be best.
Now, if Molly wanted to tell them herself, I wouldn’t complain. I knew she and Lorcan were close, but as a man, I wanted to talk to her brother first. Make my intentions clear as old fashion as that might sound. The family connection needed to be treated with respect, in my opinion.
I also thought about Dr. Willis, and about calling for an appointment before the month timeline she had suggested. While I felt good about tonight, I couldn’t ignore how out of control I had felt coming over here. How deranged I had felt riding up that elevator. How my entire body had submerged itself in everything that we’d done, and how I’d never felt like that before.
Being with Molly had felt like being set free, but it also felt dangerous, and I couldn’t ignore that. The feral feeling that she pulled from me was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I wanted to understand it. Because the only way to control it was to understand it.
I started to drift to sleep, deciding to let Molly dictate how tomorrow would play out. If she woke up embarrassed, we’d deal with it. If she woke up perfectly fine, all the better.
But whatever tomorrow brought to my door, I needed to make it absolutely clear to her that I wanted monogamy with her. I wanted her off that damn website, and I wanted it understood that I was here for it all. From changing a light bulb to cumming on her face, I wanted to be here for it all.
I guess I wanted to be her boyfriend.
Everything started to fade, and my last thought of the night was wondering how I would ever be able to move on from Molly Cavanaugh if she did decide she didn’t want the same things as I did.
I seriously doubted I’d be able to.
Chapter 29
Molly~
Two days later, my body still ached in places it’s never ached before. But it was a good ache. It was a reminder that I might have found my unicorn in Grayson Lewis.
Friday night had been everything I had been afraid to hope for. Grayson had been the real deal, and he had delivered on every wicked promise he’d made. And the most comforting thing about it all was that he hadn’t flinched once at anything I’d said or done. Desire and need were the only things reflecting in those blue eyes of his all night long. Never hesitating as things got darker and dirtier.
There’d been no goddamn judgement.
The next morning, I had feared regret. I was sure I’d wake up not being able to face him. But since he had woken me with his face between my legs, there hadn’t been time for embarrassment or regret. We had picked up from where we’d left off, and it had been a nice, lazy, perfect Saturday.
Sunday had been spent getting ready for the week, and even though Grayson was on vacation for a month, I, sadly, wasn’t. I had an educational fundraiser coming up this weekend, and it was a big one. The thing with educational events were that the school districts wanted their share before the beginning of the next school year to put the funds to immediate use. So, while the fundraiser might last for only one night, the follow up usually lasted through the following week.
With the morning already gone, and lunch with Patricia Filmore over, I was heading back to my office, knowing that today was going to be a long day for me. I had to review all the final reports from Friday’s event still, and I had to start making all the necessary phone calls for this Friday’s event.
A large coffee in my hand, I was trying to dig my ringing phone out of my purse, when I accidentally bumped into someone. Phone forgotten, I saved my coffee as not to burn the poor soul I’d just run into. “Oh, God…sorry.”
Masculine hands on my shoulders to steady me, he said, “No problem.
And I froze.
No.
It couldn’t be.
California was worlds away from Chicago.
I stepped back, and my head lifted in horror as I took in a very gorgeous, very fit, and very real Sawyer Baker.
