Egotistically Yours by Hayley Faiman
Chapter Thirty-Eight
LAURENT
Rolling to my side,I reach out and wrap my arm around Bethie. She moans in her sleep as I slide my hand down her stomach and between her legs. My fingers move, sliding through her folds and she arches her back, turning her head to touch her lips to the side of my neck.
“I have work,” she whispers against my skin.
I don’t say anything in response right away. My fingers move a little faster, applying pressure against her clit and then slip inside of her, and shift back to her sweet clit again. She lets out an exhaled sigh and lifts her leg, wrapping it around the back of my knee to give me more access.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
Turning my head, I touch my mouth to hers. I don’t break the kiss as my fingers continue to move between her legs, in fact, I hold my lips to hers as I touch, play—feel her. She whimpers and I swallow the sound, slipping two fingers inside of her and pressing my palm against her clit.
Her hips jerk as she climbs higher, shifting closer toward her release. Then she lifts her hand and wraps her fingers around the back of my neck, squeezing me as she thrusts her hips harder. Fuck, it’s goddamn sexy as shit.
Removing my hand, I shift her onto her stomach, rise to my knees between her thighs, wrap my hands around her hips and pull her backward and I thrust forward and fill her with my cock in one swift move.
Bethie lifts her head, her hair flying back and I reach for it, grabbing a hold of a fistful, keeping her back arched beautifully for me.
“Oh my god,” she cries.
I would chuckle if I wasn’t trying to keep from blowing my load at this exact moment. Grinding my jaw together, I gnash my teeth and inhale through my nose, letting it out through my mouth slowly. I’m trying to keep my shit together. I’m about two seconds away from losing my control and exploding. I want her to come before I do that.
Bethie groans and pushes back against me, fucking me hard, and I let her. I watch the way she takes my cock, watching myself as she moves forward and slams backward—the way she stretches all around me.
It’s sexy as fuck.
If I thought that I could leave for Denver and not take her with me for even a second, I was full of complete shit.
I can’t leave her. I can’t stay away from her. I’ve already spent two nights away from her and I hate myself for it. I shouldn’t have done it and I don’t plan on doing it voluntarily again … ever.
Gripping her hair tighter, I tug her head back a little farther, holding her in place. My free hand grips her waist and I take the opportunity to fuck her instead of the other way around.
Slipping my hand from her hip to her clit, I start to rub firm circles there. I know that I won’t have to do much, I can feel her pussy fluttering around me and the way her breathing has changed gives me the indication that she’s close.
It doesn’t take long. A few strokes, a few circles from my fingers against her clit and she comes apart beneath my fingers. I don’t stop though. I continue to play with her and fuck her all at the same time. Even when she cries, then screams, then whimpers.
I don’t stop.
Not until it’s my turn.
Not until I slam deep inside of her and stop. I fill her with my release on a roar. Gripping her hair even tighter, I pinch my eyes closed and I let my release flow through me, inside of her, filling her.
Inhaling deep, I let it out, then slowly once my breath has evened out, I release her hair. I don’t shift away from her though. My half-mast cock is still buried inside of her as I shift forward and rest my front against her back.
“Bethie,” I rasp.
She lets out a sigh and a moan. “I love you, Laurent.”
Her hands are on each side of her face, palms down against the bedding, and I notice her ring. Placing my palm against the back of hers, I lace my fingers with hers and stare at the ring I bought her peeking through next to my hand.
There is something about this moment, about the way that ring looks on her finger, that fills me with pride and almost fear all at the same time.
Pridebecause I’m building this life with her, I’ve claimed her, and she’s mine.
Fearbecause my life could be shattered at any given second if something were to happen to her or Tucker.
“I love you Bethie, so much.”
Tucker’s cries cause us both to shift and that’s when I know that the moment is broken, but I don’t mind because she’s accepted me, accepted us, and I’ll have so many more of these moments to come in my life with her.
Sliding off of the bed, I tell her to clean up and offer to bring Tucker to her. Walking into his little room, I look around and wonder just what is in store for us.
Denver means a whole new life.
I doubt we’ll be living in a penthouse in the middle of downtown, there’s no doubt that we’re going to be in the suburbs. There will be a yard to mow, and all of the things that come with suburbia, all things that I would have run away from a year ago—all things that I can’t wait for right now.
Once Tucker is changed, I gather him and carry him into the bedroom. I stop at the doorway and look over to Bethie. She’s sitting up in bed, her back against the headboard, the sheet pulled up to her waist and her gaze on me.
She gives me a lazy smile and I realize that there are other things that I can’t wait for. Things that I want immediately.
More children.
With her.
BETHANIE
Looking downat my gorgeous green ring, I wonder how I’m going to tell my parents about the move. Then I try to imagine living anywhere but Dallas and my heart starts to rapidly slam against my ribs.
Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my short hair. Maybe I shouldn’t have cut it? I don’t know why, but that thought enters my head and I can’t stop thinking about it. Laurent said he liked it when I did it, but he hasn’t said anything since. Maybe he doesn’t like it? Maybe I’m just rambling to myself because I’m really nervous.
There is a noise in front of me and I look up, automatically my lips curve up into a smile and that’s when I see the strange man. He’s back. Except this time, he doesn’t look nervous, he looks intent. I don’t know what he’s intent on doing, but I can see it in his eyes. He has a purpose.
He leans forward, his face just inches from mine. I shift my head to the side to see if the guard is there, but he’s not, then I look back to the man.
“He got a phone call,” he growls.
“What do you want?” I snap.
Anger has replaced fear and I’m no longer scared of this asshole, I am pissed off. “I want you to remember my face. This is the face of the man that is going to ruin you in every way possible.”
“Why? Because Susan Astor has paid you to do that? Just remember, that bitch is broke.”
He jerks his head backward, then his torso moves as well. I got him. At least for a second. He clears his throat, then readjusts himself and puffs out his chest a little more. He leans forward, his eyes searching mine and I don’t know how, but so much has happened the last few weeks, I’d forgotten.
I had forgotten about him, about the way he made me feel. I’d forgotten that I’m not safe inside of my Laurent bubble of happiness, that someone was out to get me. Someone desperate enough to take the word of a woman in prison on payment. Someone who I have no doubt would take his payment other ways if Susan didn’t come through.
I know it’s all Susan too. She obviously doesn’t want me with Laurent. She’s lost her control over him and now she is trying to get it back, even if she’s grasping at straws. Losing Landry was enough, she’s not about to lose the control she has on Laurent either. Lucinda, she already obliterated, but Laurent is her last hope.
Desperation makes people extremely dangerous, and terror suddenly fills me at that single thought. Clenching my fist, I dig my nails into my palm in an attempt to calm myself down, to keep from saying something even stupider than I already have.
“Your time is up, girl. Just remember that.”
Then, without another word, he turns and walks out of the building as if he hasn’t threatened me yet again. I know it’s Susan. It has to be. Nobody else gives a shit about me, about my life. Nobody else would send someone to stalk me, to threaten me, and to hurt me.
Nobody except Susan Astor.
Picking up my cell phone, I squeeze it in my hand, biting the corner of my lip as I stare at it. I need to call Laurent. I need to tell him what’s happened, but I don’t. Instead, I do something else, something that I know I absolutely should not do.
I poke the bear.
Calling down to the prison, I put my name on the visitation list for approval. Susan can deny my visit, but I’m going to at least try. At the end of the day, she is Laurent’s mother, and this is a last-ditch effort to try and mend whatever it is she’s decided I’ve done to her.
Once my name is on the list, and I know that the vetting process has been started for me to visit in a week, I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath. I don’t feel any better. I thought that I might, but I don’t. Instead, I just feel nervous, sick, and sad all at the same time.
I don’t know what this woman is thinking, but she’s going to start a chain reaction of something that just cannot be undone. Not just to me, but to an innocent life, to Tucker and to her own son. I don’t think that she wants that, I’m just hoping that this meeting can be civil … if nothing else.
The rest of the day, I’m in a complete daze as I think about everything that is to come. When Laurent appears in front of my desk at five, I have to check the time because it feels like it was just minutes ago the stranger was standing in front of me, threatening me.
“What is wrong?” Laurent demands.
Blinking, I look up at him and shake my head once. “Nothing,” I lie.
He frowns, but he doesn’t call me on my obvious lie. Instead, he nods his head once. Then shifts his gaze toward the day care. “I’m going to go and get Tucker while you finish up,” he announces as he turns and walks away from me. I watch him go, wondering how I ended up here. How I ended up exactly where I always wanted to be, but still completely terrified that at any given second it’ll be ripped away from me.
Putting all my things away, I close down my computer and stand to my feet as I clear my throat. As soon as I stand up, the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Turning my head to the side, I blink at the sight of a woman watching me.
I recognize the woman immediately.
Zara.
