CHAPTER 16

Isobel

I stirred the pot on the stove. For the last week Brock had spent the days out ‘looking for me’ but really keeping his eye on Jimmy Delgado. I knew that little shit would be the one to take over. If I hadn’t known directly from Brock’s mouth, I would have believed Jimmy was involved in Nathan’s death. Each one of those days, I spent at his house, simply relaxing. I did my best to make dinner for him each night. I really enjoyed cooking, but I hadn’t been allowed to cook in Nathan’s house. It didn’t give him the chance to show off more of his money.

He’d come home not long ago and gone directly to the shower. When I heard Brock’s footsteps moving down the hall upstairs, I let out a breath. God, things in my life had seriously become more confusing than I could possibly imagine. A week ago I wondered if Brock and I needed each other, mostly the connection we had during sex. Never did I imagine myself worrying about what Brock would think of me. The ice around my heart was slowly melting and honestly, I wasn’t prepared for it to happen so quickly. I glanced down at the chicken in the pan, unsure whether or not Brock would even like it. For the most part I’d kept it to meals I knew he liked. Tonight, I decided to try something new. In the end, it didn’t matter what we ate. We’d still end up in the same position as every other night, him fucking me on a piece of furniture in the house. Over the years, I’d amassed quite the selection of toys to make up for the orgasms I wasn’t getting from two-pump chump. A position I never found myself in with Brock. Things were falling back into place, with a few added elements.

The one problem was his constant need to protect me. Could I really blame him? I’d put both of us in danger by staying, but there was no way I’d let him put himself in harm’s way for me. I knew he didn’t see it that way, but I did. I knew the way the men who worked for Marcello thought, and taking the Hawes family down was their ultimate goal. Getting their hands on Brock would be an extra boost to their egos and their pay. Who wouldn’t want to prove to their boss that they could take out Brock? People feared him based on looks alone and that was before they knew what he was capable of.

I took the chicken out of the pan and made two plates. I doubted he’d be in the shower long. He’d always been in and out. I was placing a bottle of water next to my plate when I heard him coming down the stairs. He glanced at the table, then back at me.

He nodded toward the table. “Thanks.”

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down across from me. The room was almost silent. If it wasn’t for the clinking of silverware against the plate, I’d wonder if I sat in the room alone. Something I’d hoped for more than once over time and there I sat wanting the company and closeness of another. Brock kept his focus on the food in front of him, and I knew he was avoiding me.

“Something happened today and you’re trying to hide it. So spill.”

Brock set his fork down on the table. “Malcolm’s frustrated that I can’t find any trace of you.”

“So, I’d be that easy to find if I really wanted to escape?”

“He’s assuming you’d make mistakes in your haste to get away. Most people do.” He sighed. “I think it’s time to tell him.”

The idea of anyone having the chance to end the first amount of peace I’d had in so long made me want to fight back. “No. He’ll just order you to kill me.”

“Amanda, we have to tell him. It won’t be long before he hires someone else to find you and then he may call the hit if he thinks you’ll be able to disappear again.”

I dropped my fork. “And what’s he going to do to you for hiding me?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m going to talk to Ashton first. He texted me about a drop tomorrow night. Since it’s just the two of us, it’ll give me the chance to talk to him and see what he thinks.”

“And what happens if they decide to punish you? What happens to your mom and dad?”

Brock reached over and covered my hand with his. “Relax. It’s going to be fine.”

“I hope you’re right.” I pulled my hand out from under his and picked my fork back up.

We finished the rest of the dinner in silence. Not that I ate much, instead pushing my food around on my plate, my mind stuck on what Brock had said. I didn’t share his confidence in Malcolm Hawes’ reaction when Brock told him I’d been at his house the entire time. Especially after he’d ordered Brock to find and watch me. Brock had continued to lie to him about me and no matter the reason behind it, I couldn’t imagine the head of the Hawes family overlooking everything Brock was about to throw in his face after all he’d done for Brock.

He’d always been close to his family and would do anything to protect them. It was why he hadn’t come to college with me when we’d left high school, even though he’d had a sports scholarship. He didn’t want to leave his father alone to care for his mother. And now that they were taken care of, he didn’t want anything to harm what had now become his extended family. Me being there did that.

After dinner, Brock helped me do the dishes before heading to the living room. I’d created the distance between us, and I needed to fix it. I reached over and cupped his dick through his pants.

“Amanda,” he moaned.

If I hadn’t been wet before, the way he called my name would have done it in an instant. The sounds that came from Brock during sex would have any woman ripping their clothes off for him. Right now, I was the one who had him. I moved my hand up to the button of his pants, undoing that and his zipper in one move. Brock fisted his hand against the couch. I reached my hand under the waistband of his boxers and pulled his dick free. He was already hard as nails.

His eyes shut, he clenched his jaw together as I ran my thumb over the tip, spreading the pre-cum all around it. He thrust up into my hand. Funny how the tables had turned from that night in the shower. I wrapped my whole hand around his shaft, gliding it up and down until Brock began thrusting up into my hand.

“I have a better idea than you fucking my hand.”

His eyes snapped open when I pulled my hand off him. Standing, I shoved the panties I was wearing to the floor and climbed up, straddling Brock’s lap.

His eyes rolled up into the back of his head when I slid my pussy over his cock. Pulse after pulse of need shot straight from that point through the rest of my body. I continued to rub against him until I couldn’t take anymore. I needed him inside me more than I needed my next breath. I moved up to my knees, taking Brock’s shaft in my hands, and held him steady while I slowly slid down until I reached the bottom.

“Fuck, babe, you feel like goddamn heaven,” he said, pushing up, trying to get higher.

“Just wait.” I lifted up and slammed back down.

“Holy Christ,” he shouted, and I did it again.

I slowed down, moving up and down him at a torturous pace.

“Babe, if you don’t move, I’m gonna flip you over and pound you into this couch.”

I smirked. “As much fun as that sounds, I’m happy where I am.”

I began to ride Brock hard, the angle I hit bringing me as much pleasure as it brought him. My body quivered and finally clenched around his. Brock took hold of my hips and continued thrusting into me until he fell over the cliff with me.

Brock slipped out of me and lowered us both to the sofa. Exhausted, I let his heartbeat lull me to sleep. I woke up a few hours later still wrapped in Brock’s arms. My body wrung out, I decided to go up to bed.

I placed a light kiss on his lips. “Brock,” I whispered. “We can’t sleep on the couch.”

His arms tightened around me. “Yes, we can,” he mumbled.

I stood from the couch and tugged on his hand. “No. Not if we don’t want to be stiff in the morning. Now, get up or I’m leaving you here.”

He grunted and complained the entire way up the stairs, but he finally got into bed. The cool sheets were welcoming after a long day. I nestled down into them, hoping for a good night’s sleep. Except the longer I tried to force myself into sleep, the more I realized it would continue to evade me. For years, it seemed as if I slept with one eye open, never sure what each night would hold. Would Nathan drag me out of bed to watch as he tortured someone or expect me to mete out some type of punishment? Would it be me who took the brunt of his anger, or would he force himself on me?

Here with Brock, I didn’t have to worry, and it had nothing to do with him laying right next to me. If my guess was correct, I had a feeling he was dreaming about his meeting with Ashton tomorrow. He wanted to make sure I was taken care of. It usually was when it came to Brock. I knew the man inside and out, or at least I wanted to believe I did. He made me feel safe and loved. And that was the reason I was lying awake in the middle of the night.

I love Brock.

I’d loved him since we were teenagers. He was the one guy who didn’t give a shit about my parents’ money, who didn’t hope to move ranks through my father’s company just by his association with me. Even with all of the pressure he had from his own home, Brock always did whatever he could to make me happy. Which with him around didn’t need to be a lot. He knew how to make me smile when the pressure my father put on me to succeed had become too much.

The first time I left for college almost broke me to the point I thought about giving it all up and going to college with Brock. Not that he would let me. He was determined I go and finish my education, that he’d be there waiting when I was done.

And he waited.

Every break I had, I’d come home to him and we’d pick up where we left off. All the phone calls and messages helped get us through. What had happened to that Brock?

Most likely he was buried six feet down with that empty casket. It seemed as if the Brock I knew died the same day Amanda had. Since neither one of us would ever be the same again, maybe we could learn to love the new us. The only thing that kept me going after saying ‘I do’ to Nathan was fear for my family. None of that stood in my way anymore. Every reason I fell for Brock in the first place was still there, even if we were both a little harder around the edges.

I couldn’t stop myself from watching him over the years, when I knew I wouldn’t be caught doing it. So many women, it hurt to think about, but none of them kept his attention longer than a few nights, a few weeks at most. They each had one thing in common. Every single one of them was a blonde. It was the one thing that kept me hoping to reunite with him someday. It kept me from focusing on my self-induced prison. Honestly, I never thought I’d be free of Marcello.

Now that I’d rid myself of that disease and I’d found my way back to Brock, it was time to fight for him. The one man I did love.

Even if it meant going back into the lion’s den to do it.