Chapter Thirteen

Valen

He followed me to his place, but we talked on the phone the entire time. For the first time since the conception of our relationship, I felt down deep in my bones he was giving me everything. Every part and secret piece he wasn’t sure about offering in the past is mine—laid at my feet and ready for acceptance.

As soon as I close the front door, he stalks me to the edge of the sofa. It’s a signature move at this point. I know where it ends and how it’s going down, and I’m shaking in my boots anticipating it. “We need to make up for lost time,” I admit. “Remember what you said about actual sex time because you’re away so much? This put a dent in my plan.”

Hutch slides his jacket off his shoulders and tosses it on a barstool without breaking gaze. “What plan?” he asks, his eyes wandering to my neck and mouth.

Licking my lips, I toy with the sleeves of my sweater. “Well, I’ve titled it the beefsteak, milkshake plan.” I shimmy my cardigan off and hang it over his jacket. At his fierce, wide grin, I continue, “I’ll need to sizzle the beefsteak until it’s medium rare.”

“And then?” Hutch asks.

“Then I eat the shit out of that beefsteak. Next up is the milkshake. I love a good milkshake and I’m going to swallow the hell out of a milkshake.”

He cringes through a laugh. “Sounds painful.”

His feet are spread wide as I step in front of him. “Not painful at all.” Dropping to my knees I make light work of his button and zipper and have his hard cock in my mouth in a few seconds. He groans as I take him into the back of my throat while playing with his balls. He tastes better than I remember.

“The thing. Do the thing,” Hutch moans out, kicking his jeans and boxer briefs to the side. I smile around his dick and slowly pull my mouth away to flick his balls with my tongue. Pressing my face all the way into his crotch, I devour him. The trick is to use lots of spit and a ton of effort. “Ah, yes,” he says, cradling the back of my head with a large hand.

Returning to the job at hand, I bob up and down with my mouth and hand. It’s slippery and wild, I’m consistent as he loses complete control.

“Stand up, stand up,” he commands. The tenor of his voice lets me know he’s deadly serious. He truly wants me to stand and cease fire. Leaning up, I wipe my lips and spit covered hands on his abs to dry them. He lets out a quick laugh, but takes my bare shoulders in his hands and sobers. “I have to tell you something.”

“This is killing my plan,” I whine, stomping one foot for affect. “You’ve told me a lot tonight, Hutch. Can it wait? The next conversation I’d like to have is Oh, yes, right there. Fuck me harder. Your dick is so big. Don’t squirt on my face,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.

He grins. “What if what I have to tell you makes you reverse squirt?”

I raise my brow and lift my shirt over my head. Hutch’s gaze flits to my bra. “Still want to talk?” I ask.

He nods, but his lips part slightly. I step out of my pants, a little awkwardly because removing leather leggings is never fucking sexy. I don’t fall down. My panties match my bra. “Now?”

He covers his eyes with a hand and shakes his head. “You’re killing me, you know?”

“What’s a girl have to do to get fucked around here?” I stroke his cock. I’m close enough for him to touch, yet he keeps his hands by his sides.

“Valen. You look like her,” he says, grabbing me by the chin. Out of all the exposed skin, he touches me chastely.

Wait. It takes a second or two for his words to register. “What?”

He drops my face and moves out of my hold. He walks over to a bookshelf and pretends to read the spines. “You look like Tabitha. It’s what drew me to you.” He spins, already shaking his head. “But it’s not why I fell in love with you. That was all you. I needed to tell you that because you’re bound to see it eventually.”

I swallow. “You were drawn to me? But I came up to you.”

He laughs, sighs, and walks back to where I stand. “I let you think that. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you because,” he says, pausing.

“Because I resemble her,” I finish for him. I sink down into the sofa and let the reality of his words hit me. It’s fucking weird, but surely I’ve dealt with worst. “That’s why you were open to a relationship right up front given my proclivities. I should have known something was up.”

“It’s not like that. Well, kind of, but it would have been a little easier if you picked me first,” he says, grinning.

I could run with this joke. I could take it in a thousand different directions, but I can’t move past this. “Can I see a photo?”

He winces. “Is that a good idea, Valen? Are you mad at me?”

“I should be. For keeping your past from me. A past that still haunts you in the form of me.”

He shakes his head. “You are a completely different woman. I realized that after the first night we spoke. You’re confident and strong. You lead a life you want without apologies. You’re successful, and beautiful in your own way. You’re funny. I’m always laughing with you. Sex is off the charts amazing, and we are perfect for each other,” Hutch says, willing me to look him in the eye. “You really want to see her?”

I nod. How could I not? If I’m going to be inserted into the movie Ghost, I need to see what I’m competing with. He grabs a key, pulls on his boxer briefs and walks to stand in front of the locked door. Suddenly, I’m not sure if I want to see inside his daughter’s room. It’s a piece of himself he didn’t give me willingly. He pushes the door open, and I fold my arms across my chest as I follow him in.

It’s adorable. It’s pink and flowery with princess bedding and a rose hued nightlight in the corner. My skin prickles at the realization of what is happening. Hutch flicks on a switch and waits for me to see it. On a long, white dresser, there’s a framed 8x10 photo of Hutch and Tabitha on their wedding day. He turns away from me, and sets his hands on his hips—leaving me to my own to gaze upon his past love.

Tears sting my eyes. Hutch looks so much younger, but his happiness is blatant. It’s not until I’ve studied his face thoroughly that I let my eyes flick to Tabitha. My first thought is that she looks nothing like me. She’s more beautiful than I could ever hope to be, but upon further inspection I see similarities. I pick up the frame to look closer. Her mouth and the way her eyes slant during a large smile, I’m there. My stomach flips.

“I’ll never be Briar’s mother,” I admit. “I can’t fill her shoes so I hope you don’t expect that from me.”

He doesn’t respond. He’s still facing away from me—his wide, muscular back on full display. I bluster on. “She doesn’t look like me, Hutch.”

I can see the tension roll from his shoulders. “I was so afraid of telling you. It seems I’ve done everything wrong with you, Valen. I didn’t give you enough respect. Or full truths. I needed you to know how this all began.”

“You could have kept it to yourself. In all honestly, I never would have connected the two, but I understand your need to be honest and I appreciate it.” I glance at the photo one more time and it’s a little less gut wrenching this time.

Hutch turns, and I see his gaze dart quickly to the frame and then back to me. “I don’t expect you to be Briar’s mother. I expect you to be Valen.”

“I can be that,” I say, letting my fingers graze over his chest, and down to his abs. “That Valen?” I ask, teasing about the first thing he said to me.

He pulls me to his chest in a full, tight hug. My every curve pressed against his every hard ripple. “You forgive me?”

Sighing into him, I nod. “I do.” Forgiveness is more difficult than holding grudges. Who would I begrudge? His dead wife for having my smile? I swallow it down and vow to keep it buried where it belongs. Forsaking my love for Hutch isn’t worth any cost.

He leads me from his daughter’s room. I turn to look at the photo one more time before he turns off the light. I say a silent prayer I can be half the woman she was. For him, and Briar, and for her.

I also thank her for having my smile. I’d never have him without it.