VICTORIOUS (A Quantum Novel)(9)

I snuggle Fluff closer to me. “We have each other, right, Fluff?”

She licks my face, and I’m immensely grateful for the one “person” I can always count on no matter what. We’ve been through everything together.

At Flynn’s building, the photographers are set up out front, so we drive around the building to the garage entrance in back. The mere sight of the building and the door to the garage is enough to resurrect some of the sweetest memories of my life, and I’m again on the verge of tears.

Seth punches in the code to open the big metal door. He has the SUV inside and the door closing before the photographers can mobilize.

I stare at Flynn’s priceless Bugatti, remembering him picking me up for our first date in the gorgeous car and teasing him later about loving that car more than he loves me. My gloved hand over my mouth is the only thing that keeps my sob from escaping.

“We’ll get your bag, Mrs. Godfrey. You can go ahead up.”

I’m left staggered from being called Mrs. Godfrey for the first time by someone other than my husband. I clear my throat. “I, um, I don’t have a key. With me.” I add that last part because I don’t want them to know I’ve never had a key. Well, that’s not exactly true. Flynn gave me one the night we met so I could use his awesome tub any time I wanted. I’d left it on his dresser because I didn’t feel right about taking it.

“We’ll be close by if you need us,” Seth said. “Just send a text.” Bringing my bag to me, he uses his keycard to send me to the top-floor apartment. I let Fluff off the leash in the elevator. The doors open into Flynn’s foyer, and Fluff trots into the apartment like she owns the place. And then she starts barking, snarling and growling.

I pull my bag off the elevator and follow her into the living room, where I see that she’s barking, snarling and growling at Flynn.

“Natalie…” He looks awful. His gorgeous face is ravaged by despair. I can tell with one quick look that he hasn’t slept since I saw him last.

I’m still angry that he lied to me. I still don’t know how I feel about discovering he’s a sexual dominant with desires I can’t begin to understand. I have no idea where we can possibly go from here.

But none of that matters when compared to how much I love him. All I see when I look at him is the man who came running to me at my darkest hour, who went to war on my behalf, who donated half a million dollars to my sick friend and gave me the sun, the moon and the stars. I see my best friend and my love.

I run to him.

He meets me halfway and lets out a low moan as he hugs me fiercely, lifting me off my feet into his embrace.

I cling to him, breathing in his familiar scent, relief coursing through me. The turbulence inside me settles and quiets. I’m back where I belong, and that’s the only thing I know for certain right now.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers. “This was all my fault. I should’ve told you everything.” His face brushes against mine, leaving dampness behind. His tears shatter me all over again. “I’ll do anything… Anything it takes to fix this. I can’t live without you, Nat. I love you so much. Tell me you still love me.”

“I do, Flynn. I still love you.”

And then he’s kissing me, fiercely, intently, and it’s like the first time all over again, that day on the street outside of Aileen’s when he kissed me like he would die if he couldn’t kiss me right in that moment. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, every bit as desperate for him.

He pushes my coat off my shoulders, and it lands on the floor behind me. Then he’s lifting me and carrying me into the bedroom. We come down on the bed in a tangled mass of limbs, all without missing a beat in the kiss. His hands are everywhere, as if he’s taking inventory and making sure I’ve returned to him whole and intact.

I can’t get close enough to him, even with my fingers fisted into his hair, my legs intertwined with his and his tongue in my mouth. It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. “Flynn…” I break the kiss, gasping for badly needed air.

“Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you.” I tug at his T-shirt, which quickly disappears over his head. Nuzzling his muscular chest and taking comfort in the soft brush of his chest hair against my face, I am home.

He drags my sweater up and over my head, releases my bra and unbuttons my jeans. I fumble with the button to his jeans, so he helps me.