CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Nacole

“Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

Garret stands with me in his arms and tosses me onto the bed, my hair fanning across the pillows. In a flash he’s gone from the room, his footsteps heavy on the stairs. Taking advantage, I strip out of my jeans and shirt, the matching red lace panties and bra the only things left on my body. Making myself more comfortable, I hear him coming back upstairs. My nerves begin to get the best of me, so I close my eyes and pray he’s happy with what he sees.

“Fuck.”

My eyes fly open to see him in the room, standing stock-still in front of the bed.

“What? Do I not look okay?” Sitting up, I look down at myself in concern.

“Baby, the only way you could look any better is if you didn’t have those clothes on.”

His words bring a smile to my face, and I bite my lip when he reaches down to adjust himself in his pants. He grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head, and my mouth drops open. I want to lick every single one of his defined abs, and his broad chest has a light spackling of hair. And don’t get me started on that V.

Garret climbs onto the bed, still in his jeans, and makes his way up, settling right on top of me. I spread my legs to make room for him, and he drops his face into my neck.

“You look fucking beautiful. Don’t ever doubt for a second that you’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever met. Okay?”

I nod and run my hand down his tight stomach, fingers lightly trailing over his abs. I smile when the muscles bunch, a grimace on his face when I look up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, except my hot-as-fuck girlfriend is lying beneath me in the sexiest fucking things I’ve ever seen, and she’s giggling while touching my damn abs. Yes, I’m fine.”

“Girlfriend, huh?”

Garret pushes up onto his elbows and stares down at me, one of his hands twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers.

“I’m about to be inside of you, and I’m quite fond of you, goofball. Yes, you’re my girlfriend. Unless you have an issue with that?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the P with a grin.

“Good. Now enough of the chitchat. I need to see what you have on.” He rises to his knees, his rough hands moving to the thin fabric of my bra and cupping my breasts. They ache for his touch and I squirm around under him, groaning when he chuckles.

“Haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet and you’re ready. Gotta say, that’s fucking hot, Nacole.”

“Garret.”

He takes pity on me and moves my legs so they’re around his waist as he settles himself between them. He runs a fingertip under the top of my bra and finds my nipple, causing a soft moan to leave my parted lips. Sliding his hands under my back, he unsnaps my bra and lifts it off my body, nostrils flaring when he gets his first view of my bare breasts. And oh hell, when those rough fingers begin pinching and pulling on the sensitive buds.

My back arches against his ministrations, and I try to grind myself against his hips, the ache between my legs growing stronger. Bending over, he takes one of my beaded nipples in his mouth and rolls it around between his teeth, his other hand sliding to the front of my panties.

A finger teases under the band, and I growl in frustration when he doesn’t move his hand where I want it. He lifts his head from my breast and looks down at me, his eyelids heavy with lust. Licking his bottom lip, he hooks his fingers into the lacy material and rips them right from my body.

He gives me zero chance to react before he spreads my legs even wider, that wicked fucking mouth dropping right where I need him. The inhuman moan that leaves my lips echoes off the empty walls, and I reach up to grab his headboard. Garret gives me no mercy, attacking my pussy with fervor, holding my hips down with his hands.

“Garret, oh my God!”

He growls against me, and the vibrations are almost my undoing. He gives my clit a few teasing licks before taking it between his lips and sucking hard in pulsing motions. My back arches so hard my head barely touches the pillows and I cry out, stomach clenching, my orgasm flying at me with no chance of stopping. It hits me head on and I’m coming, panting hard, his lips riding the wave with me, sending me tumbling into the abyss.

The aftershocks gentle and he lifts his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. My body is coated in a light sheen of sweat, and there's no hiding his rock-hard cock in his jeans anymore. I just had one of the most intense orgasms I've ever experienced, and yet it only intensifies my need for this man.

Sitting up, I kiss him hard, the taste of myself on his lips only spurring me on. Pushing him away, I reach down and undo the button on his jeans, but he moves my hands, climbing off the bed so he can shed them. In just his boxer briefs, he reaches into his nightstand to grab a condom, looking at me as he tears it open.

“You’re sure, baby?”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty sure I’m good with all of this, considering what you just did.”

He slides his underwear off, and I’m given my first look at his hard cock. Good Lord. He’s not hung like a horse, but it's going to feel fucking magnificent. He's long and thick, and I need him inside me. Now.

Rolling the condom down his shaft, he moves toward the bed and climbs back on, moving so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard. My eyebrows rise at him and he grips his cock, moving his fist up and down, eyes filled with lust.

“Get that perfect fucking ass up here, sweetheart. I need to be in you.”

Not wasting another second, I do as he says and straddle him. Garret rubs his cock around my clit and my hips jerk, desperate to feel him. I keep my eyes on his as he places himself at my entrance, his hands moving to grip my waist. Slowly, I drop onto him and have to bite my lip to keep from screaming, the pleasure of him stretching my body almost too much, but so fucking good. He groans loudly, and I can’t go slowly anymore. We have all weekend for that.

I lift myself off him so only the tip is inside, then lower myself completely so he’s fully seated. I gasp and his hands tighten on my hips, fingers biting into my skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“What?” I pant, rocking my hips gently, but he stops me. “Come on,” I whine.

“You gotta give me a second, babe. Christ, you’re so fucking tight.”

“It’s been a long time,” I whisper, and he lifts his head.

“And it’s never been like this.”

His words hit me hard, and I close my eyes against the tears burning. Burying my face in his neck, I begin to move myself up and down his thick shaft, moaning with every thrust. The angle he’s at is rubbing inside of me perfectly, and my legs are shaking already. His hands move to cup my ass and he kneads as we move, his chest sliding against mine.

He never speeds up my movements, just lets me take us on the ride of our lives. He feels impossibly harder inside of me, and his grunts are growing louder. Lifting my head, I take his mouth in a sloppy kiss and our teeth clash, the frantic need building between us. Garret flips us over so I'm on my back and he begins to move.

Hooking my legs around his lean hips, I meet him thrust for thrust, his hips hitting mine harder and faster. Sliding my arms around his waist, I move them up his back, my nails digging into his skin, a growl leaving his mouth.

“Garret….”

“Fuck, you have me so damn close, baby. I need you to come again.”

He leans up onto an elbow, his hips not stopping their brutal pace, and slides his hand down to where we’re connected, thumb rubbing roughly against my clit. The orgasm I didn’t even know was building climbs out of nowhere and my muscles clamp down on him, eyes falling shut as I shake through a climax even more intense than the first.

Garret moves his hand back to the mattress next to my head and starts to pump even faster, his thrusts forcing the headboard to bang off the wall. In only a handful of strokes, his head falls back on his shoulders and he bites his bottom lip, moaning loudly, his hips locking against mine. Dropping on top of me, he runs his lips up and down my sweaty neck, his body trembling from his own release.

Looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, I lick my dry lips.

“Well that was fun. But I think we’re gonna have to try a few more times to get the hang of it,” I joke, and he laughs, dropping his head to my chest.

“You can bet your sweet ass that we’ll be doing lot more of it.” My stomach growls loudly, and we both start laughing. “I need to feed you. Come on.” Carefully, he pulls out of me and climbs off the bed, going into the bathroom.

“You need to feed me? Who are you, Christian Grey?”

“Who the fuck is Christian Grey? Babe, can you not mention ex-boyfriends when we were fucking having hot-as-hell sex only moments ago?”

Howling with laughter, I look up to find him standing there in a pair of navy sweatpants, not looking quite as amused as I am. Reaching over the side of the bed, I grab the T-shirt he was wearing earlier and pull it on, standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Let’s go. I’ll tell you all about Mr. Grey over a bowl of your chili. I’m starving.”

I bounce downstairs and he follows me. Twenty minutes later, when he realizes just who Christian is, he laughs just as hard as I did the first time.

§

Stepping out of Garret’s shower, I look at my reflection in the mirror. I haven’t seen this much life on my face in a long time. I run a towel over my wet hair and throw it into a braid, tying it off before going into the bedroom to grab the tank top and sleep shorts I left out. I want to be comfy this weekend, so I don’t bother with any makeup or anything fancy. Taking care of the wet towels, I head downstairs to find my boyfriend, the word bringing a smile to my face.

Garret is in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee, his cell phone pressed to his ear. He looks angry, and I can’t tell what’s wrong. He drops a kiss to my head and holds up a finger to me, telling me to give him a second. I shrug and go about fixing my coffee. When he ends the call a moment later, he looks at me with frustration.

“Okay, so please don’t be mad,” he starts, and I roll my eyes.

“What good conversation ever started like that?”

“I need to run into work for just a bit.”

“Okay,” I say, hopping onto his kitchen counter.

Garret smiles and comes to stand in front of me.

“I’m serious. They need Jace and me to go over some paperwork. There was a glitch in the system, and the reports we handed in yesterday got fucked up.”

“Garret, it's fine. I wasn’t joking. Honestly. Go do what you need to. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“You’re too good to me.” When he moves to place his coffee on the counter, he knocks my purse to the floor, the contents scattering across the kitchen. “Shit.”

I hop down to help him grab everything, and it’s then I see my license sitting on the ground. Trying not to draw attention to myself, I scurry to get it, but he grabs it before me. My heart starts racing and I can tell the moment he notices. He stands and turns to me, a puzzled look on his face.

“What’s this?” he asks, and he holds it out. "Sadie Nacole Ward" stands out like a giant fucking neon sign and I gulp, unsure of how to begin this conversation.

“It’s not what you think,” I begin, but anger crosses his face.

“Yeah, 'cause that’s a real good fucking conversation starter.”

“Garret, please. Let me explain.”

“Is this your license?”

“Yes, but—”

“Your name is Sadie?”

I nod, and his eyes narrow. I try desperately to snatch it from his hand, but he holds it out of my reach, not allowing me to touch him.

“Garret—"

“You’ve been lying to me?”

“Please, just let me—"

“How could you lie to me? I trusted you.” His voice booms through the kitchen and I jump, startled at the harshness to his tone. “Was this some game? Is that all I was, just a joke to you?”

He sounds so hurt and tears begin to fill my eyes, the pain in my heart unbearable.

“Garret, please. Just listen to me. I didn’t want to lie to you, I tried so many times to find a way to tell you.”

“No you didn’t. Because if you had, I wouldn’t be finding out now.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Not that easy? I’m a cop, Nacole. Pretty sure I would've found out eventually. I mean, what else did you lie about?”

“Don’t do this, please,” I cry loudly, but he doesn’t look fazed.

The man in front of me is not the same person I spent the night making love to. Who held me all night. Who whispered how much I had changed his life and how happy he was.

That man is gone, and in his place is the one I've betrayed by not allowing myself to trust him enough with the truth. And the knowledge of that shatters me.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you put this on me, Nacole. Don’t. I mean, what are you gonna tell me next? That you’re married or something?”

“I… I wanted to tell you, Garret. I’m so sorry.”

My license falls from his fingertips and the hurt on his face deepens. “You’re fucking married? Please tell me you’re joking.”

I shake my head and he turns away.

“Fuck!” he bellows, slamming his hand against the doorway, the wood rattling beneath his anger.

I close my eyes against his movements, his unexpected reaction scaring me. I know he would never touch me in anger, but right now he’s madder than I ever imagined he would be.

“I’m so sorry,” I sob, dropping to my knees in the middle of all my stuff.

“You’re sorry? I just slept with a married woman, the same woman I’ve been fucking falling in love with, and you’re sorry? I can’t even look at you.”

He storms from the room and I drop my head to my chest, crying harder than before. He comes back into the room a second later, fully dressed.

“Garret, you promised. Please.”

“Yeah, that went out the window the second you fucking lied to me. You lied, Nacole. And you broke us in the process. I hope it was worth it.”

He storms out the front door, his Jeep starting up a minute later before he goes roaring down his driveway. Left alone, I stand on shaky legs and gather all my stuff. Rushing upstairs, I grab everything I brought and run down the stairs, snatching my purse on the way. I drive home with blurry vision, the tears nonstop.

When I get home, I run inside and slam the door shut behind me. Dropping onto my couch, I curl up and cry, nothing hurting more than my heart. The way he looked at me, the hurt on his face. He’ll never forgive me.

An hour or so later, I’ve finally calmed down, standing in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of tea. Garret hates me, and I don’t blame him. But I can’t let him think I’m just some cheating whore who ripped out his heart. No, he needs to know the truth.

Placing the streaming cup of tea down, I head into my bedroom closet and grab the cardboard box sitting inside, the contents the most painful moments of my past. Carrying it into the living room, I place it on my coffee table and go in search of a notebook. Finding one in the kitchen drawer, I write Garret a letter. The most honest letter I’ve ever written.

Taping the note to the top, I slip my feet into a pair of sandals and drive back to Garret’s house, praying he isn’t there, and praying I don’t crash my car. My hands are shaking, and my eyes burn with unshed tears. Even if I’ve lost him forever, at least he’ll know the truth.

He deserves that much. Even if I no longer deserve him.