CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Karina
“Can you cut this off of me?” I ask Mason after he’s laid me down in our bed.
His eyes flash to the hospital bracelet I’m wearing, and I can tell it annoys him as much as it annoys me. I don’t like the reminder of what went down earlier today and honestly could do without anything ever reminding me again. After the hospital had pronounced me and the baby, which after some testing they told me they think is a girl, were okay, Mason had brought us home.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he whispers as he cuts it off, rubbing at the irritation the plastic edges had left on my skin.
“Look at me.” I give him my most stern teacher’s voice. “This wasn’t your fault. He was an unhinged psychopath who thought he’d get away with potentially killing kids. This isn’t you, Mason. This is him.”
“You could have died,” he argues.
Grabbing his chin with my fingers, I force him to meet my eyes. “You could have too. What if he’d turned the gun on y’all? What if he’d decided to go down in a blaze of glory? Suicide by cop and he’d gotten one of you?”
“We wear vests,” he argues again.
Rolling my eyes, I sigh. I’m refusing to let him take the blame for this. None of this has been because of who he is, it’s been the work of someone who wasn’t balanced. I will make him see this if it’s the last thing I do.
“You don’t wear vests on your legs, which have a pretty crucial artery running through it. Not to mention your damn head. You’re not going to win in this case, big guy, so you might as well just give it to me. What happened today was unfortunate, but it could have happened to anyone. I’m glad and lucky that we’re all okay, he’s going to go away for a long time, and now hopefully you’ll have some sort of reprieve before moonshine shows up again.”
He realizes he can’t argue with me on these points, I can tell by the way his eyes soften. “I don’t want to get your blood pressure up by arguing, so I won’t.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I make a proposition in his ear. “I don’t know about you, but after he touched me, I feel dirty. I need a shower, and I need you to get my blood pressure up in a totally different way.”
He answers me in the most delicious way. A deep moan in my ear, followed by the best words ever. “Let me take care of you, Rina.”
* * *
“You relaxed?” he asks after the shower, as I’m lying on my side in the bed. He’s behind me, big hands all over my body, and as he gently pushes into me, I moan.
“As relaxed as I’m ever gonna be.” I grasp the comforter in my fingers, holding on tightly as he pushes and pulls out of me.
Unlike our normal crazy and chaotic couplings, this one is slow. He takes his time, showing me with our bodies how much he loves me, how scared he’d been for me. His hands move up and down my flesh, almost in a reverent way. This time there’s no gasping, and even no talking between us. All I need him to do is let me know I’m alive. All I need is to feel his love and know I’ll never have to live without it.
“Love you so fuckin’ much,” he whispers in my ear as his finger sinks down to where we’re joined.
“Love you too,” I whisper back just as softly as we work toward our goal. His other hands glides over my stomach, where our child is safely held.
“Nothing means more to me than this.” His voice is so low I almost can’t hear him, but I know he’s worshiping me. Worshipping us. “Don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you with me.”
“Don’t think about that, never think about it.” I push against him, clawing at the covers as we push toward the end together.
“Lost years off my life.” He buries his face in my neck. “When I saw him walk you out, for a brief minute I thought maybe you wouldn’t go home with me today.”
“No way was I let him going to take me out.” The promise is in my voice.
We strain against each other, both fighting for the orgasm that will prove that we’re still here. That Isaac Cartwright didn’t break us. I move one of my hands down, to where it rests over his. Together we hold my stomach as he pushes against my back. There’s something about him wrapping me up in his warmth, his feet braced under mine, his arm up over my head. I’m completely surrounded by my man. My man. The one who makes my heart pump, the one who makes me want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything, and the one who showed me what true love is.
“I’m gonna come, Mason.” I bring my hand up to cup my breast, he lays his hand over top of mine, directing me on how to hard to squeeze, and as I feel the end start to break through, he moves that same hand down to where our bodies are joined.
As he spills inside of me, we both groan as my orgasm hits hard. Together our bodies jump, and we do it in a choreographed dance. As his chest heaves against my back, I think about how different this day could have been and pray for many more years with this man. A lifetime will never be enough, but less than one? That would have been criminal.
And in this moment, I know, Mason Harrison? He’s my life. The one I’ve been searching for and the reason I was hurt, but not heartbroken. Had I not been hurt, I wouldn’t have moved here, and I never would have found the love of my life.
Breathless, I mouth a thank you and close my eyes, resting in the shelter that is his arms. The place that has now become my home.