Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)(72)

By the time I finished, tears were streaming from her eyes. She didn’t want me to suffer—I understood that. This was my life though. Suffering was a guarantee. Security was not.

“Okay.”

I read her lips as she rose to her knees and wrapped her arms around my waist. Then I held her, smoothing her hair until I was able to calm down.

I cupped both sides of her face and studied her eyes. “Okay? That was too easy.”

Her response was nothing more than a shrug.

As we crawled back in bed, I took her mouth in a gentle kiss. It didn’t grow any deeper, but it was there for comfort, nothing else.

Eliza pulled away first and grabbed her notebook.

I have two conditions.

I rolled my eyes, but she ignored me.

Swear to me, that the minute your boxing career is over, you will get the implant.

“You know Slate didn’t retire until he was thirty-three,” I teased.

I don’t care if you are three hundred. Promise. Me.

“I can’t box at three hundred!” I laughed, and she narrowed her eyes. “Okay. Fine. I promise. Just give me ten years.”

“Ten. Years?” She gave me a sad-puppy-dog face that made me laugh harder. God, it felt good.

“Maybe more.” I grazed her jaw with my teeth before looking back at her paper. “And number two?”

The Page family is officially enrolling in sign language classes. All of us.

“The Page family, huh?” My smile grew painfully wide. “You’re a Page now?”

Well, not legally. You know I’m still married to Justin Timberlake.

I laughed then snatched the pad from her hands. “Then send my apologies to Justin, because I’m about to f*ck his wife.”

The sparkle of humor vanished from her eyes, but longing and desire appeared just as quickly.

“Are you sure?” She over-enunciated so I could read her lips.

“Uhh . . .” I quirked my eyebrow in confusion. I was always sure when it came to her. “Please don’t tell me deaf people can’t have sex,” I joked and pulled her shirt over her head. “I just want things to feel normal, Eliza. And the normal I want to feel tonight is you coming against my cock while I empty inside you.”

A shy smile crept onto her mouth, but her hands boldly slid over my cock, which was thickening in my jeans.

I couldn’t get my clothes off fast enough.

It started out slow, with me kneeling beside her, watching my fingers as I glided them in and out. She lazily stroked my shaft and watched me, watching her.

I licked over her breasts; she raked her nails over my back.

I was into it. Completely. But as I guided myself inside her, her head fell back in pleasure and it was as if someone had kicked me in the stomach. There wasn’t a single noise to accompany it.

With every thrust, I watched her quietly fall apart underneath me. I willed my eyes to somehow magically transmit the sound I saw coming out of her mouth to my ears, but no matter how hard I tried, she still came on a silent cry.

I struggled to find my own release, f*cking her harder than ever before. I was on a mad mission for over an hour, drilling into her in every possible position I could think of. I was in no way gentle, and by the end, it had to have become painful for her. But she never once tried to stop me as she took every ounce of the anger that was aimed at my own body.

I was covered in sweat as I began to tire, still no closer to finding my orgasm than I was when we started. I was ready give up, when she flipped us over and began to ride me. Then Eliza Reynolds proved once again that she was magic. She made me better. I was still deaf, but she showed me that there were other ways to hear her.

She lifted my hand to cup her throat and moaned as she slid down on my cock. I heard it. Maybe not with my ears, but the vibrations of her throat gave me just enough sensation to make me believe I had. My eyes got wide as she did it over and over again. Then a small smile tilted my lips, and hers filled with absolute love.

It was by far the worst sex we had ever had, but within seconds, I was coming harder than I ever would again.

Soon after we finished, Eliza fell asleep. She was never a snorer, with the exception of her final conscious sigh, there was no sound associated her sleeping. So I lay awake for hours watching her. It truly felt normal and made it easy for me to forget the panic that continued to build in my chest.

I was okay.

She was okay.

We were okay.

Nothing else matters.





TILL’S FRUSTRATION WITH HIS INABILITY to communicate was overwhelming for all of us. The simplest of tasks had become impossible, and the slightest trigger would send him off the deep end. My easygoing fiancé was gone. Hell, even the nervous, stressed-out boy had disappeared. In his place was a pissed-off man with a grudge against the world.

We enrolled in sign language classes and started integrating it into our every conversation. Flint and Quarry picked it up rather quickly, but Till was a little slower on the uptake. He took it upon himself to learn every possible curse word, but that was the extent of his thirst for knowledge. He hated spending two hours every night in class, and he skipped any time he could find a plausible excuse. It was a hard balance, because we could learn all of the signs we wanted, but if Till didn’t understand, they were worthless.

Our relationship took a hit as well. He still held me every chance he got, but it was oddly reminiscent of our younger years. It was affection, but never sexual. I missed him even when he was sitting directly in front of me. We still had sex when I initiated it, but it was rough and it took forever for him to come. It just wasn’t the same. Boxing seemed to be the only thing he cared about, and even that was a challenge for him.