She narrows her eyes at me. “We’re not having sex.”
“Not right now we aren’t, but as soon as Jett is asleep, I’m tying you to your bed and fucking the hell out of you.”
She shudders beneath my touch. I love that she can’t resist me, just like I can’t resist her.
“And if I have to torture the truth out of you by delaying your orgasm, then I will. But I would much rather you tell me what it is that’s bothering you, so we can fix it, and I can spend my time in bed giving you multiple orgasms.”
Her head drops to my shoulder, and she lets out a sad sounding sigh. It sets me on edge.
“Talk to me, babe.”
She lifts her eyes to mine. I see fear move through them, and then her eyes fill with tears.
I sit up straighter, taking her face in my hands. “Jesus, India, you’re really starting to scare me.”
Her eyes flick in the direction of the closed living room door and then back to me. She exhales, then, begins talking in a quiet voice, “Paul, Jett’s father, was released from prison today. While you were on the track on Saturday, I got a call on Saturday from Russell, the defense attorney who tried the case against Paul. The case I was a key witness for. The reason he went to prison.”
“You are not the reason that motherfucker went to prison. He is the reason.”
“Paul blamed me for him going to prison.”
“India, he went to prison because he’s a pedophile. He was having sex with teenage girls. He got you pregnant while you were still a teenager, for fuck’s sake.”
She cringes. Distress crosses her features, and a tear runs from her eye. It makes me feel like callous bastard.
I catch her falling tear, wiping it away with my thumb. “I’m sorry, babe. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you’re right. Just hearing it makes me feel like a victim.”
“You were a victim, but now you’re a survivor.” I curl her hair around my hand. “You are a fucking miracle. You’re the strongest person I have ever known, India. Where you came from to where you are now…most people would have given up, but you didn’t. You fought hard to give your son the best life possible. You should be proud of yourself.”
A soft look enters her eyes. “I kind of love you, you know.” She runs her fingers into my hair.
“I kind of love you, too. A whole lot.” I lean close and press my lips to hers.
Moving away, I lean my head back against the sofa. “Paul getting out of prison—what does this mean for us?”
I see her smile when I say us. Then, she shrugs. “He’ll be living in Manchester, where he’s from. He’ll be on electronic tag and curfew, so he won’t be able to come here even if he wanted to. But Russell has had a restraining order put in place for Jett and me.”
“Has Paul ever threatened you?”
Her eyes lower. “Yes. A long time ago. Right after he went to prison, he sent me threatening letters.”
Pure undiluted rage burns through me. That fucker goes anywhere near India and Jett and I will kill him myself.
“I’m getting security for you and Jett for when I’m not here.” I hate that I have to leave soon, knowing that bastard is out there free to do as he pleases.
“What? No, it’s not necessary.” She shakes her head. “I don’t think he’ll bother us. I haven’t heard from him since the letters. And he’s been trying for parole for a long time, and now that he’s out, I’m sure he won’t want to jeopardize it.”
“Has Paul ever asked to see Jett?”
“No. I think he attributes Jett to him going to prison. I’m pretty sure he thinks if I had never got pregnant, then he would never have been found out.”
Anger and frustration and worry for her and Jett are pulsing through my veins.
“Please, just let me put some security guys on you to keep you safe.”
“It’s not necessary, Leandro.” She presses her hand to my cheek. “I’ll be fine. But okay, for Jett, yes, that would be a good idea. Just to be safe.”
“I fucking hate that I have to go to Belgium.” I sigh. “I really don’t want to leave you. Why don’t you and Jett come with me?”
“We can’t. I have to get back to work. I have patients depending on me. I’ve already taken time off. I can’t take any more.” She blows out a breath, looking a little lost.
“I won’t go to Belgium, then.”
She looks at me, aghast, dropping her hand from my face. “No,” she states emphatically. “You have to go. You’re contracted, and this is important to you. It’s your first season back since the accident.”
I cup her face in my hands. “You are more important to me.”
“I’ll be fine.” Leaning close, she presses a kiss to my forehead. “Kit’s here.” Then, a kiss to the tip of my nose. “Please, don’t worry.”
I hate feeling trapped and conflicted. I really don’t want to leave her while that fucking bastard is out on the streets, but I am contractually obligated to go to Belgium. I just wish she would come with me.
I start to speak, but she cuts me off with her lips, kissing me passionately.
I know her game, but I’m helpless to the feel of her delicate tongue in my mouth, her tight body against mine.
“This isn’t over,” I murmur under her lips, my hands reaching for her ass.
“I don’t doubt it,” she whispers. Then, she deepens the kiss, grinding herself against my erection.