Chapter Twenty
Clove
Is a picture really worth a thousand words? If so, there isn’t even one I can think of now. The vision I am staring at right now as I enter the family room in my new house has left me with no words. Everything around is shut out, gone. All eyes are on me except for his; I can feel them, but nothing else matters right now. I am unable to move as I watch my husband’s head bent over, mere inches from our daughter’s face, his hand across her beating heart as he tells her how much he loves her.
What I feel in this house is love, the kind of love a family should have for one another, bonding, talking and making memories that last a lifetime. This is what I want for my child, and for the future children I hope to have. I owe it all to the two men who are now making their way toward me.
“You okay, sweetie?” Zack asks as he pulls me in for his big brother bear hug.
“I’m getting there, and you?”
“I’m fine. Worried about you, is all. We all are. You’ve been through so much and I know you. You will keep all of this bottled up inside until you break.”
My dad steps up and cups both of my cheeks, guiding me out of Zack’s hold and into one of his own.
“You listen to your old man, okay?”
“When have I not?” I say sweetly.
“I can think of a time or two, but seriously, listen to me. Everyone here right now loves you more than we can say, but we are too close to what has happened, biased to the extent that we can’t and won’t be able to listen to the things you had to endure.”
I make noises of protest but his stern look has me closing my mouth before any words even come out.
“All I’m going to say on the matter is, I don’t know what you and Turner have planned, but I think one of the first things you need to do is talk to this Dr. Jollup and start some therapy.”
I want that, too. I want every painful memory gone, out of my life. I have a long road ahead of me, one that has many twists and turns and potholes scattered everywhere, but I can do it. I know I need therapy, someone to talk to about this who can be impartial and see things from all angles.
“I will, Dad, I promise. Let us get settled in here first and I will make that call.”
“That’s my girl,” he says with a smile and a kiss to my forehead.
Krista walks up, snaking her hands around Zack.
“You don’t have to go alone, either,” she says.
“I think I would like it if you went,” I say to her gratefully.
It’s the truth. I may feel entirely uncomfortable having someone in my family hear things I don’t want them to, but out of anyone here, she would be the one I wouldn’t mind sharing this with me.
Turner strolls our way with Journey in his arms.
“I think someone is hungry and ready for bed,” he says as she lets out a big yawn.
“We should really be going, anyway,” Krista declares. “Nolan is crashed on the couch.”
“Where’s your mom?” I ask Turner after everyone leaves.
“She’s in our room hanging up clothes, and well, you know how she is.”
“How who is? Me?” Melody pipes up, zooming down the hallway like a skyrocket, hands stretched out in front of her ever so ready to snatch up the baby.
“She’s all yours after I finish feeding her, but you are going to have her spoiled rotten, you know.”
“That’s what grandparents are for,” she smiles. “Now is there anything else I can do for my two favorite people?”
“We can take it from here, Mother.”
She shoos him with her hand.
“Okay. Fine. I know when I’m not wanted,” she says with mock sadness. “Let me just give her a kiss and I promise I will stay away tomorrow and leave the three of you alone.”
“Just a few days, Mother. Let us get adjusted.”
She kisses the baby, then Turner walks her out safely to her car, leaving me alone with my thoughts for a few minutes. The only thing running through my mind is the fact that before my brother left, he let us know we have cops and FBI agents all around the house. Just when I escape from being trapped in one house, I feel like I am trapped in another. The only way I will truly feel free is when she is dead.
He looks at me apologetically when he comes back inside.
“The house is secured and there are cops outside. We’re safe to let Journey sleep in her bed tonight.”
“Did you like her shirt?” I ask, eager to change the subject.
A part of me knows she will be all right sleeping in her new room, but the part of me who has had her by my side for the past three months except for the time we spent in the hospital is shaking harder than a leaf.
“Well, since it says ‘Daddy’s Princess,’ I think it’s entirely accurate. Now hand me my little princess and go get yourself ready for bed.”
I concede and hand her over to him, my nerves increasing with every step I take closer to our room. I pause and stare at the bed as I enter.
I feel like a virgin all over again with the thoughts weaving their way through me, slithering slowly from my toes and settling in the pit of my belly.
I let out the breath I am holding and go into the bathroom after putting on one of Turner’s t-shirts that I pulled out of his dresser drawer. I’m so grateful to Melody for taking care of all of this. I open the drawer and remove a new toothbrush and paste. I’ve started brushing my teeth when I hear Turner rustling around in the bedroom. My nerves and anxiety about being curled up against him overpowers everything else.
“You almost done in here or are you…?”
He stops dead in his tracks behind me, his gaze roaming over my body and our eyes locking in the mirror.
“Jesus Christ. I have missed seeing you in my t-shirts,” he admits, his voice raspy from desire. His eyes are dark and filled with want.
“Leave your hair down, please?”
It’s more of a demand than a question. He gets himself ready for bed and leaves the room while I finish up, lingering a little longer than I normally would. By the time I turn off the light and make my way into the bedroom, Turner is under the covers, his bare chest visible.
I notice the scars on his skin from his wounds. My feet shuffle forward, little by little at first, stopping at his side of the bed. I trace my fingers across the scars, hoping he can feel my apologies through my touch, our eyes speaking what our mouths cannot.
“Get in here with me?”
Instead of going to the other side of the bed, I climb on top of him, my legs straddling his body, breathing him in as I place my lips over all of his marks. He tenses at first, then begins to relax as I place a kiss over his heart.
I feel his thick erection through the comforter, my hips moving, pressing, and grinding against it. His hands lift the hem of my shirt, hauling it over my head and throwing it on the floor. Those large hands that I have missed fondle each of my breasts, my nipples tender as he scrapes his thumb across them. He leans forward and kisses the small puckered scar where I stabbed myself. My lids grow heavy, not from exhaustion or any other sensation except to feel, feel the man I love beneath me, touching me and loving me. I’m home and for the first time since this all began, I think of nothing else except him.
He removes his hands from my breasts, trailing his fingers tenderly down my stomach.
“When I look at all of our scars, I don’t look at them as battle wounds, Clove. I look at them as a sign of the strength, determination, and untouchable love that the two of us had to get back to each other,” he says, then moves his hands to trace my stretch marks. “But these, these flawless marks on your body from having our child, if at all possible are the sexiest damn things I have ever seen. I am so damn lucky to have you.”
His words are like music to my ears. He bends forward, trailing kisses along my lower abdomen as his fingers dig into my bare ass.
Turner flips me over onto my back, spreading my legs wide and settling himself comfortably in between them, so close to the spot where I need him to be.
“Nothing has made sense to me at all this past year without you,” he whispers. “I have missed you so damn much.”
I shiver and draw his face down to mine, laying one chaste kiss on his soft lips.
Our foreheads rest against each other with our eyes wide open.
“Kiss me,” I say softly.
He does, slowly at first, teasing me. His gentle kiss starts at my eyes, then moves down my cheeks. His tongue probes around the seam of my bottom lip then investigates past it, delving inside, twisting, turning, and so full of passion. His hands dig into my hair as he tilts my head back slightly, his mouth leaving mine. I groan loudly, pressing myself up into him.
“I’m taking my time, treasuring every inch of you. It’s been too long. When I said I missed you, I meant every inch of you, and I’m not stopping until I have touched all of you.”
I have lost the ability to speak. All I can do is whimper with low mewling sounds. I have dreamed of this for so long, committing to my memory the ways his hands felt on me, his lips, his tongue, wanting so badly for my dreams to be real only to wake up and realize they never would be again.
“Oh, God!” I cry out when his warm mouth closes over my sensitive nipple, nibbling just enough to have me arching my back. He moves to the other and does the same. I feel my milk leak out a bit, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as he twirls his tongue around and licks from the middle of my chest down to my belly button. His tongue doesn’t leave my body; he’s tasting me everywhere, sensually, erotically, making me squirm in anticipation.
“Your responsiveness to my touch hasn’t changed at all. You still get goosebumps everywhere. The little noises coming out of your sexy mouth, I’ve missed those too. But this,” he continues, cupping my pussy in his hand, “I have missed most of all. Being inside of you, feeling your warmth, the way you squeeze me so tight, cushioning me.”
Tears roll down my face as well as his. They don’t stop him though, as one of his fingers follows the trail he made with his tongue, stopping just short of my opening. I start to pant. Turner quirks an eyebrow and dips that finger down one side of my wetness and plunges it inside of me.
“Jesus. You are so warm and so fucking wet. Tell me you want me like I want you, Clove. Tell me you need me and you missed me.”
His tone is pleading; it’s as if he has to hear me reassure him.
“Always you, every night, every day, every minute, it’s always you,” I say, my breathing shallow and my voice croaky as I give him the words he needs. All of it is the truth. “I never once stopped loving you, never once, Turner.”
He breathes in deeply, his finger starting to move in and out, twisting and turning. He takes his time. My eyes are on him and his attention is fixated on his finger.
“I need to taste you,” he groans.
His head dips down and his mouth replaces his finger. I stifle my scream, clawing at the sheets, bunching them up in my fist the second his tongue finds my clit. He licks gently, then harder, moving to my slit, his tongue thrusting deep inside. I buck my hips at the sensation. Everything he is doing is so gentle, even when he places his hands on the inside of my thighs to hold me still, it’s gentle. My always sweet, always gentle, always loving Turner.
He starts to tease me by flicking his tongue, fucking me slowly with it. My clit is throbbing, my pussy is clenching, and I am going out of my fucking mind with pleasure as he torments me.
“I’m going to come,” I moan.
“Then come, baby. Come hard, come often. Just come.”
He sends me over the edge with those words as his mouth hovers over the top of my clit and sucks hard. My pelvis lifts completely off of the bed and he doesn’t hold me down this time. His face lifts right along with me and I shake and cry out his name loudly.
“Shh,” he says as he climbs his way back up my body.
“You taste even better than I remembered. Now come here and let me make love to you.”
He sits all the way back, stretching his legs out on either side of mine and grabbing my hands, pulling me up so I am sitting on his lap.
“I love you,” he repeats over and over as I lift myself and center him against me, lowering myself bit by bit until I feel the tip hit my entrance.
“Don’t take your eyes off of me,” I say.
“Never,” he whispers back.
I sink myself onto him, immersing him inside me. It wouldn’t matter where in this world we were right at this very moment, because Turner and I are home as I begin to rock against him, his hands cupping my ass, guiding me as I circle my hips on his cock. He begins to lift me up and down, setting the momentum.
“I love you,” I say again, feeling as if I cannot say it enough.
Love is all I see in his moist eyes.
“You’re so beautiful, my love,” he replies.
No words are spoken again after that, the only sound is of our bodies becoming one. His touching is limitless. He releases his grip on my ass, stroking up my spine, grabbing my hair, caressing my cheeks, palming my breasts.
At last, his mouth takes hold of mine and we both cry out our releases into each other.
************
“I wish we could sleep sitting up so I could stay buried inside of you all night,” he says into my neck as he kisses his way up to my mouth.
“We could try,” I laugh.
“It might be kind of hard.”
“I think it would be very hard,” I tease.
He snickers.
“I think you would be right.”
I ease myself off of him, hating the feel of his loss already.
“As much as I want to stay right here, I have no idea if Journey is going to wake up or not. We should really try and get some sleep.”
I grab his t-shirt off of the floor and a clean pair of panties out of the drawer, feeling his eyes on me all the way to the bathroom where I clean myself up. He’s in a pair of black shorts by the time I climb into bed and curl up his arms.
“I checked on her while you were in the bathroom; she’s sound asleep.”
“Good.” I peek up at the monitor and lay my head on his chest. The sound of his beating heart puts a smile on my face. “You know, I don’t remember much about her birth, or when I named her Journey.”
I don’t know why I am telling him this now after we just made love. The words just flow out.
“When did your memory come back?”
He strokes my hair, waiting on my answer.
“The days seem to run together. I have no idea when she stopped drugging me, really. It’s hard to describe. Some things I remember clear as day and other things, not at all.”
He stops stroking and kisses the top of my head.
“I named her Journey once I became lucid enough to vaguely remember I had a baby. The name fit her after everything the two of us had been through. I think Tina stopped drugging me the closer we got to her plan to kill me. I really think she wanted me to suffer for her own sick reasons until that day came. I don’t even know how to describe her to you, Turner. She’s worse than evil. She’s-”
Turner hushes me, kissing me on the forehead now.
“Listen, she can’t touch you now. Both you and Journey are safe. I’m here and I will kill anyone who tries to take you away from me.”