Page 48 of Savage

“I don’t know. Maybe you were... maybe you still are, but it doesn’t matter.” I placed my hands on her hips, pulling her close once again. “Not anymore.”

Tears filled her eyes as she said, “There’s so much, Malcomb.”

“I know... We’ll get through it. We have to.” Her eyes remained locked on mine as I told her, “I’m not losing you, Londyn. Not again.”

I lowered my mouth to hers, kissing her with passion and hunger as I pulled her even closer. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the sensation of her touch. Having her in my arms again made me forget about everything else. It was just her and me.

Her arms wrapped around my neck, her fingers tangled in my hair as I delved deeper into her mouth, and when she inched closer, pressing her warm body against mine, I could feel the blood rushing to my already throbbing erection. My need for her consumed me, making it impossible to think.

“Dalton.”

And just like that, I felt like I’d been doused with ice water.

I took a step back, leaving her in a flustered daze. Her eyes were filled with hunger, leaving no doubt that she didn’t want me to stop, and in all honesty, I didn’t want to either. But we weren’t alone, and there was no way in hell I was going to take a chance on him walking in on us. “Damn, I wasn’t fucking thinking.”

A soft smile slipped across her face. “We were both caught up in the moment. Besides, he’s sound asleep.”

It was still hard to believe that I had a four-year-old son. It was even harder to believe that he was just in the next room. “Can I see him?”

She hesitated for a moment, then sighed and told me, “He had a hard time getting to sleep. We both did.”

“I’ll be careful not to wake him.”

She nodded, then led me down the hall and into her bedroom. A nightlight illuminated the space, casting a warm glow over the room. In the center of the bed, nestled under the covers, was a small figure nestled in the bed, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

I couldn't help but feel a pang of regret and guilt as I looked at my son. I hadn't been there for him, hadn't been there for his mother when she needed me the most. But now I was here, and I was going to do everything in my power to make it up to him and to Londyn.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and studied my son's face. He had curly blond hair and a nose that was too big for his face, but he was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair from his forehead, and he stirred slightly in his sleep. My emotions were starting to get the best of me as I whispered, “Is he really mine?”

“Yes, he’s most definitely yours.”

Even as I heard her say the words, I couldn’t believe it.

He was beautiful and healthy, and he was mine.

Five years earlier, my world had been turned upside down, and tonight, I’d been given the chance to right it once again. It wouldn’t be easy, but for him, I would move mountains.

CHAPTER16

Londyn

I’d imagined this moment a million times over the past five years, but in my mind, it was just a fantasy. I never thought it would really happen, so I hadn’t really considered how I would handle it if Malcomb came back into the picture.

I was both angry and hurt that he’d listened to my father and turned me away without really talking to me, and the fact that he hadn’t answered my calls or read my letters only added fuel to the fire. But I wasn’t exactly innocent in all this. We’d each shared our own guilt, and fighting over who was more right or wrong wasn’t going to solve anything. I had to make a choice.

Hold onto the anger and hurt, or let it go and have the life I’d always wanted.

But it wasn’t just about me.

I had Dalton to consider, and that made choice a bit more complicated.

I had no way of knowing whether Malcomb would come back into our lives, so I’d always tried to be vague when he asked about his father. I had no idea what I was going to tell him now. Whatever I told him, it was going to be tough to make him understand. I realized Malcomb was having the same concern when he asked, “What have you told him about me?”

“Not a lot,” I whispered.

He stood and made his way back over to me as he whispered, “What’s not a lot?”

“I told him that you were away, and I hadn’t had a chance to tell you about him... I told him that he was a lot like you, handsome and funny, and that you two had the same smile. I told him that you had a kind heart and were a fierce protector. I told him a little about the club and that you rode—which he was very intrigued about. And I told him you would be here if you could.”

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