What if he wasn’t lying to her?
She was stupid. So stupid. She was still a little girl wondering why her mother couldn’t love her the way other mothers seemed to love their kids. She was still a teen wanting to find a place where she could belong.
Michael moved over her, fucking her even as he held her eyes.
It had been the worst day. It had been so horrible and yet she felt like she wasn’t alone. He was here with her.
His betrayal had been the worst part of the day. His betrayal had damn near killed her.
A second wave of pleasure hit her, and she held on to him as she rode the wave. The pleasure mixed with the emotions swirling inside her, and she cried even as she came. Michael went stiff above her, finding his own release.
He collapsed on top of her, kissing her over and over. He held her as she cried. He didn’t talk, didn’t use the moment to push his claims. He simply held her and let her cry.
She should push him away.
She shouldn’t listen to that little voice inside her that begged her to try again, to let him in because life would mean nothing if she didn’t keep her heart open.
She should get up and go to her own room.
After a while she was cried out, and Michael slipped out of bed. She heard him in the bathroom. It was time to make her exit, but she was so tired. She’d been tired all day, but her brain kept going. Now she felt a bone-deep weariness.
She could sleep.
Michael turned off the light and climbed into bed, drawing the covers over them both. He was warm and naked, spooning her.
“I don’t…” she started.
He held her close, kissing her cheek. “Punish me tomorrow. Sleep tonight. Let me take care of you. I owe you that. Sleep, baby. You’re safe. You can go right back to hating me tomorrow. I promise.”
Bastard. She did want to sleep. And he was warm. So warm.
Tomorrow she would put up her wall again.
She hoped she had the strength to.
She fell asleep with his arms around her.
Chapter Seventeen
One week later, Vanessa still wasn’t sure how she felt. She stood in the kitchen, the smell of coffee surrounding her as the morning news played in the background.
“Darling, how was the meeting with Lane? Did she think the interview went well?” Ava placed a mug in front of her.
Her mother-in-…whoa. Nope. That was not how she was going to feel. She was not starting to think of Ava Malone as her family because that would mean that all the days Michael had spent being the absolute greatest boyfriend/bastard in the world were working. And she couldn’t let them work.
Since that first night when she’d allowed herself to sleep in his arms, their days had taken on a rhythm. They got up and had breakfast. They were never alone for breakfast because Kyle or one of the other bodyguards showed up. The fact that she hadn’t been alone with Michael had led her to not fight with him that first morning. She’d made some breakfast, and the conversation had been stilted but pleasant. She’d gone to work and been surprised at the lack of press waiting there. Julian had done something to prevent them from showing up, though he wouldn’t tell her what. She’d had a nice workday, and after dinner, she’d pushed Michael until he’d taken her into the playroom, spanked her until she cried, fucked her until she screamed out his name, and then carried her to bed. Then they started the whole process all over again.
Ava had been true to her word, taking her to NorthPark Mall the Saturday before to let the press take pictures of them shopping like she was one of the family. Michael’s sister-in-law, Nina, had joined them, and when the press wasn’t around, it felt like…she belonged. She had lunch with Ava and Nina and laughed over stories of Michael and JT as kids.
Then the rest of the family had shown up, and they’d all had dinner at Top in a private dining room. She’d spent time with Michael’s father, who was over the top and funny.
She loved Michael’s family. She was pretty sure she loved Michael.
She wasn’t sure she could forgive him. She also didn’t know if she could bring his family further into her hellscape of a life. It only seemed quiet right now. At some point the press would come roaring back like a rogue wave threatening to drown them all.
She picked up the mug. “She said she thought it went well.” The publicist had set up an interview with one of the national magazines. The reporter had been out three days before along with a photographer. She’d talked to Vanessa and Michael, and they’d looked like a happy couple. “She’s read the story and it’s got a positive spin on it. I like Lane. She seems to know what she’s doing, and she was right about how quickly the blackmail story would fade. Apart from last Saturday, they’ve left me alone. There was only one photographer waiting for us when we got home last night.”