Consumed(2)

That moment had gone on my short list of regrets well before I had let the hotel room door slam behind me.

Sienna takes a step backward into the house, and I know that I’m losing this. Losing her. And that’s something I can’t afford to do because I need her.

“You signed a contract.” It’s a low move on my part, and she shakes her head in disbelief. Softening my tone, I add, “And, I’m a f*cking idiot.”

Admitting I’m wrong helps because not only does her wide blue gaze dart up to mine and a choked noise come from the back of her throat, she makes a hesitant move in my direction and then another.

One step backward and two steps forward.

I’m okay with that as long as it means she’ll eventually be close to me.

“I’m not going to give this up.” I yank her to me. She smells good, so goddamn good, like that apple body wash she wore when we first met. “I’m not going to give you up,” I repeat.

Because I’ll always want her.

A broad range of emotions passes over her face. Lust and anger, fear and pain. My chest constricts again because I’m fully aware that I’m responsible for all of those feelings.

She releases a long exhale and then hisses, “What you did hurt, Lucas.” She drops her chin to her chest, and I watch the top of her ponytail as it moves slightly. She’s counting. Once she reaches five she looks up. “You wanted me to give myself to you just so you could tell me to screw off.”

That’s not the case. I wanted her to give herself to me so I could keep her—I was just too selfish and wrapped up in being with her to remember that Sam refused to let me enjoy an ounce of happiness. That my ex-wife’s threat of taking me down, and Sienna along with me, was so real

Sienna clears her throat, ripping my thoughts away from my Sam and back to her. “And now you want me again?” she demands, her voice breaking.

I tighten my hold on her because she’s trembling, but also because I am too. “I’ve always wanted you. It just took me awhile to tell the shit holding me back to f*ck off.”

“Sam?”

I nod. And when I’d told Sam that she was holding me back from living, she’d cried. She’d begged. And finally, after months of going back and forth with her, she’d calmly agreed to back off—as long as I agreed to her terms.

I dip my face down until my nose touches the tip of Sienna’s, which is damp from tears. “If you were with me, she’d try to ruin me. She’d try to ruin you because she knows I love you. You’ve got to know that. You’ve got to know what she has on me—”

But when she cuts me off by putting her fingers over my lips, I’m relieved. What the hell was I even going to say next?

You’ve got to know what she has on me would take me away from you, from everything. And I don’t think there would be any going back.

“Damn you, Lucas,” Sienna says, but she’s wearing a soft smile. Her hand slips from my mouth down to my neck, and I turn my head slightly to kiss her wrist. She shivers but doesn’t let go of me.

“I know you’re angry,” I say. She’ll probably be that way for a long time—months, maybe even years. “And I know that it’ll take work, but I just want you to try. To give getting through my f*ck-ups together a chance. I need to know that you can give a shit about me again.”

For the longest minute of my entire life, her face is an emotionless mask. A hundred thoughts—each shittier than the last—roll through my brain before she moves her head to each side incredulously and mumbles something that sounds like “dumbass.” She lays her head on my shoulder, and her tears seep through my tee shirt.

“A lot can happen in the two days I owe you,” she whispers. “But you’re right. You are an idiot if you thought I ever stopped loving you.”

“I love you too, Sienna,” I growl. Then my hands are all over her as I bring her close to me. Her lips part willingly and her tongue darts into my mouth. She tastes sweet, and I make myself a promise that I’ll never lose the taste of her again.

I’ll fight to keep this woman beside me.

Her eyes are still squeezed together when she pulls away, but when I press her hand up against my cock, they open and she glances between our bodies before clearing her throat. “If we weren’t at your Gram’s house,” I say, and she leans back, rubbing her hand across her chest.

“She’s not—” But then she shakes her head and runs her palms nervously down the front of her shorts. “There are hotels just a couple of miles away from—”