Ch. 206..210: Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Dad Chapter 206-210
Chapter 206
When I hear the shower turn on in the little bathroom, I stand up and head to the little suitcases that I packed for Kent and I for this trip. A little thrill runs through me as I remember how anxious I was packing his - worrying if he'd like the clothes I picked out for him, if he'd ever get to wear them - if I, too, would get to wear mine, because there was one hell of a large chance that I was going to get arrested today as well -
But everything went over beautifully. And now...
I have other things to worry about.
Like what do you wear to bed when you're four months pregnant and you haven't seen your baby daddy in two months?
I groan a little, turning towards Kent's bag first and pulling out a pair of underwear - black boxer briefs, the only thing I've ever seen him wear - and a pair of pajama pants. I move to the bathroom door and crack it open, falling back a little in surprise at the quantity of steam that puffs out of the door.
Well, I guess he didn't get a lot of hot showers in jail.
"Clothes delivery," I call, tossing the underwear and pajamas onto the closed lid of the toilet.
Kent laughs a little, and I know he's appreciating the irony of tables again being turned. I just smile and pull the door shut, letting him have a minute to enjoy his shower in peace. Then, I move to my own little suit case, quickly swapping out my black dress for a mostly-shapeless black silk nightgown.
I peer at myself in the mirror once I've changed, running my fingers through my hair and then turning to the side, smoothing the fabric down over my little baby bump. I smile at it, thinking that it's kind of cute. But will Kent think the same?
I mean, I know he just said that he thought all iterations of me were perfect but...
I sigh and turn away, hoping that it proves correct. Because Kent liked my body a lot when I wasn't pregnant - I just...will he still like it now that it's shaped differently?
I push the thought from my mind, though - something I've gotten used to in the past couple of months - and crawl back into bed, pulling the blankets up over my knees and picking up my book, reading through a few pages and not really processing what's going on in the story.
I grow tenser as I hear the shower water turn off, hear him moving around in the bathroom, brushing his own teeth, getting changed.
Because...
Frankly, I'm not looking forward to the conversation I know we're going to have next. I don't want, at all, to think about how he'll react when I tell him everything Daniel and I did to make this moment possible. Because while he might be able to accept morning sickness Fay, and pregnant Fay...
God, will he still love me when he finds out that I'm a murderer?
I mean, he'd be an incredible hypocrite if he didn't but...
Was my innocence one of the things he loved about me? Did I take that away?
When Kent finally emerges from the bathroom - he ignored the pajama pants, as I thought he might - I'm looking up at him with wide and worried eyes, already shining with tears.
His face falls immediately as he crosses the room in an instant, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning forward, cupping my cheek with his palm. "What?" he asks, quiet, insistent. "What is it?"
I shake my head, my lower lip trembling as I whisper my answer. "I'm really worried you're going to hate me now."
"Fay," he breathes, shaking his head like it's unbelievable. And then he sighs and takes the book from my hands, neatly marking the page with the flap of the book cover and placing it on the side table. Then, all business - all Kent - he shuts off the light, and climbs into bed, and takes charge.
Kent rearranges the pillows so that he can lean back against him, and then he pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms tight around me, pulling me warm against his chest. He tucks the blankets in around us so that we're in a comfortable little nest, and then he rests his head against mine.
We sit like that for a moment, listening to the still rush of the waves against the ship, the distant sound of the engines churning. And I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, relishing the feeling of ceding him control - of letting him handle it all. After a few moments of peace, Kent speaks.
"Tell me," he murmurs, his voice low, his chest rumbling with the words.
And without hesitation, I do.
Kent holds me tight for what feels like hours as I tell him everything. He's a better listener than I thought he'd be, only interrupting softly when he doesn't understand, or needs more details. I start at the beginning, telling him of my sleepless night and determination, of how hard it was not only to make myself think of a plan ridiculous enough to work, but to convince myself that it could be real, that it could actually work.
My voice lowers when I begin to speak of my father, and of Ivan, and the decision to take one out and let the other live. It remains soft as I describe sorting through what felt like a very un-motherly desire for vengeance and balancing it with a cool determination to remove the true threats to our continued lives together. I give Kent the full details of how I made Ivan trust me, made him think I loved him before ruthlessly using his conviction to get him to move half the cops in the state to a point hundreds of miles from Kent's crash.
I hesitate only when it comes time to tell him about today, about this morning. But Kent's arms tighten around me, encouraging, and so I begin. My voice begins to shake a little as I'm forced to relive it - trapping my father, poisoning him, being fully aware that Fiona was arranging for the murder of his closest allies while Daniel slipped poison into his glass of champagne and then cut his throat. All to solidify our control, or dominance.
To ensure that there was no one left to come after us when we walked away.
I'm crying by the time I finish, little tears slipping down my cheeks as I wonder at the woman I've become. Because I always wanted to be a psychologist, someone who helps people.
And what am I now?
When I go quiet, and he can tell that I'm finished, Kent finally shifts, turning slightly so that he can look into my face, moving a hand to my cheek and turning my eyes towards him. Slowly, gently, he brushes my tears away.
"I'm sorry, Fay," he murmurs, and I shake my head, dismissing it -
But his hand stills. "No," he says, firmer now, and I look up at him. "I want you to hear me say it. I'm sorry - you never should have been in that position to have to have made those choices. That's my fault."
I scoff, shaking my head. "It can't be your fault, Kent - Ivan and my father did that to you -"
"I should have seen it coming," he murmurs.
"You couldn't -"
"I could have," he says, insistent, and I go quiet, looking up at him, considering that if he was willing to listen to me then I should at least do the same for him. "I failed you, and Daniel, when I didn't. If I had, you wouldn't have had to go through all of this -" "No," I say, firm now myself, frowning and shaking my head at him as I lift my hand to his face, placing the tips of my fingers across his lips. He stops, staring at me, I think surprised. But I don't let myself consider it. "I won't let you take the guilt of this from my shoulders, Kent. It's mine -"
"But even if I want to -"
Chapter 205
About forty-five minutes later, Kent helps me to my feet. My legs are still shaky, but Kent stands close "I don't know about all this," I murmurs, glancing up at him and feeling awkward as I dab at my mouth "What do you mean?" he asks, peering down at me.
"This new intimacy," I say, wrinkling m nose a little as I look up at him. "Kent, our entire relationship - "Relationship," he says instantly, with a sharp nod.
"Fine," I say, waving a hand and brushing it off. "You've kept me at arm's length. The bodily realities of my teeth?"
"What?" he asks, smirking a little. "Do you want me to move to the cabin next door? Give you your priv "No," I say, growling a little and taking a step closer - hating, categorically, the idea of him going anyw You're going to be grossed out when you discover that I'm...real. And pregnant, which is a whole differ Kent sighs, and dips his head to press a quick kiss to my mouth before hastily bending lower. Before I "I'm a little ashamed of myself," he murmurs, looking down into my face, "if you've taken my bullshit b I laugh now, wrapping my arms around his neck, pleased to the core of me to hear him say it, though "I did," he says, raising his eyebrows at me. "More than you probably know. More than anyone else in.. "Daniel said something about that," I say quietly, looking up at him. "About...me being the only one of Kent frowns a little, letting loose a sigh. "He noticed that, did he?" Then he looks up, glancing towards "Daniel noticed a lot," I say quietly, peering up at him, curious about his emotions about his son. "Well, he's not wrong," Kent replies, looking down at me and then starting back into the bedroom, sen patient with me now - it's not going to be perfectly easy for me, after years of being shut off from eve He carries me over to the bed, sitting down on its side and then twisting to place me, gently, on the m "Why did you shut people out," I ask quietly, wrapping my arms around my knees after he pulls the bla Wow, at two-thirty in the morning. Have I really been up that long? Why am I not more exhausted? But as Kent stands and peels his shirt off and my eyes pass over his muscled body, his tanned skin... I know precisely why I'm still up.
brush my teeth and gargle mouthwash. clean hand towel.
atever it is -"
es have been mysteries - I've never even seen you shower. And now we're living in close quarters, and you're watching me barf? Standing over me as I brush
t all. "I just..." I shrug, and sigh, "you like me to be...perfect, to come waltzing down the stairs every day dressed in my cute little outfits, my hair all done. el of real."
it I gasp to find that he's scooped me up into his arms. I laugh a little in my surprise.
ries as anything about you. You're perfect, every iteration of you, Fay - perfectly-dressed Fay, throwing up on a container ship Fay - they're all very good." ... still have my hesitations. "Well," I say quietly, "why did you put up so many boundaries? Why didn't you let me in?"
irlfriends you let sleep in your bed every night."
por, through which somewhere - Daniel exists.
at I'm well enough now to leave the toilet's side, at least for now. "I've opened up to you, Fay, just...in my own way. I'm afraid you'll have to continue to be
, my back against the two pillows up against the bed's plain wooden headboard.
up, tucking me in a bit so that I'm warm, even though I'm still in the little black dress I put on at...
"I want to talk to you about that," he murmurs, turning to look down at me. "But...is that the conversation we should be having tonight?"
And I bite my lip as I look up at Kent's serious expression, as he glares at me a little - letting me know that he's well aware that there are things that happened today about which he has not been informed, and about which he wants to know. Slowly, I shake my head. "We can save it," I say quietly, knowing that it's right. "For another time."
"We have plenty of time now," he murmurs, stepping forward and taking my chin in his palm, staring down into my face as if he can't get enough of looking at me. "Well...as long as you did your job well and we aren't going to be stopped by international customs and sent back to the United States the moment we land in Europe."
"Oh," I say too-innocently, my eyes going wide. "Should I have planned for that?"
He narrows his eyes at me, just a little, unwilling to play. I just laugh and swat his hand away.
"Of course we planned for that," I murmur, shaking my head at him. "Daniel's in charge of those details, actually - he's kind of amazing at shipping and boat stuff now - he learned a lot in the past two months, about both the legitimate trade and smuggling -" "Daniel?" Kent asks, baffled.
"I made him get a job," I say, grinning.
"Daniel got a job?" Kent's mouth falls open, making me laugh even harder. And then he groans, turning away from me. "I think..." he says quietly, taking a moment to consider. "I think I need a shower, Fay," he says, glancing over his shoulder at me. "And then you need to tell me everything. Are you all right with that?"
"Look at you, Lippert," I say, leaning back into the pillows with a wide grin. "Asking me if I'm all right with the plan, instead of telling me what's going to happen. I think I like this new situation."
"Well," he says, moving back towards the bathroom even as he keeps his eyes on me. "Don't think I didn't notice what happened at dinner. It's very clear who is in charge of your little rag-tag crew." "Don't be too jealous, Kent," I say, sighing and resting my head on top of my knees. "I'll let you borrow them sometime."
He laughs, shaking his head and turning towards the bathroom, I think eager for his shower to wash off the months in jail, the crash, the hard ride, the surprises of the day. To be clean, to start anew. But before he disappears, I call his name. He turns to me, curious, and I can see on his face that he'll give me anything I ask for in this moment. Anything at all.
"Can you toss me that pack of saltines?" I ask quietly, pointing to the white sleeve of crackers on the dresser.
He laughs, surprised, and I smile to see his face so joyful. But then he does as I ask, grabbing the crackers and tossing them to me before he disappears into the bathroom.
"Don't get crumbs in the bed," he calls over his shoulder. I bite my lip as I rip open the sleeve, so incredibly happy, because as each moment passes he becomes more and more like the Kent I know again.
The Kent I love, and the man I fought to have at my side.
I bite into a cracker, happy and pleased, and look down at my stomach, where the baby has been quiet all day. "Your daddy's back, baby," I murmur, giving a content little sigh. "And we're not letting him go anywhere, ever again. Are we?" Baby doesn't reply, but I don't mind. Because we have time for that.
Chapter 206
When I hear the shower turn on in the little bathroom, I stand up and head to the little suitcases that I packed for Kent and I for this trip. A little thrill runs through me as I remember how anxious I was packing his - worrying if he'd like the clothes I picked out for him, if he'd ever get to wear them - if I, too, would get to wear mine, because there was one hell of a large chance that I was going to get arrested today as well -
But everything went over beautifully. And now...
I have other things to worry about.
Like what do you wear to bed when you're four months pregnant and you haven't seen your baby daddy in two months?
I groan a little, turning towards Kent's bag first and pulling out a pair of underwear - black boxer briefs, the only thing I've ever seen him wear - and a pair of pajama pants. I move to the bathroom door and crack it open, falling back a little in surprise at the quantity of steam that puffs out of the door.
Well, I guess he didn't get a lot of hot showers in jail.
"Clothes delivery," I call, tossing the underwear and pajamas onto the closed lid of the toilet.
Kent laughs a little, and I know he's appreciating the irony of tables again being turned. I just smile and pull the door shut, letting him have a minute to enjoy his shower in peace. Then, I move to my own little suit case, quickly swapping out my black dress for a mostly-shapeless black silk nightgown.
I peer at myself in the mirror once I've changed, running my fingers through my hair and then turning to the side, smoothing the fabric down over my little baby bump. I smile at it, thinking that it's kind of cute. But will Kent think the same?
I mean, I know he just said that he thought all iterations of me were perfect but...
I sigh and turn away, hoping that it proves correct. Because Kent liked my body a lot when I wasn't pregnant - I just...will he still like it now that it's shaped differently?
I push the thought from my mind, though - something I've gotten used to in the past couple of months - and crawl back into bed, pulling the blankets up over my knees and picking up my book, reading through a few pages and not really processing what's going on in the story.
I grow tenser as I hear the shower water turn off, hear him moving around in the bathroom, brushing his own teeth, getting changed.
Because...
Frankly, I'm not looking forward to the conversation I know we're going to have next. I don't want, at all, to think about how he'll react when I tell him everything Daniel and I did to make this moment possible. Because while he might be able to accept morning sickness Fay, and pregnant Fay...
God, will he still love me when he finds out that I'm a murderer?
I mean, he'd be an incredible hypocrite if he didn't but...
Was my innocence one of the things he loved about me? Did I take that away?
When Kent finally emerges from the bathroom - he ignored the pajama pants, as I thought he might - I'm looking up at him with wide and worried eyes, already shining with tears.
His face falls immediately as he crosses the room in an instant, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning forward, cupping my cheek with his palm. "What?" he asks, quiet, insistent. "What is it?"
I shake my head, my lower lip trembling as I whisper my answer. "I'm really worried you're going to hate me now."
"Fay," he breathes, shaking his head like it's unbelievable. And then he sighs and takes the book from my hands, neatly marking the page with the flap of the book cover and placing it on the side table. Then, all business - all Kent - he shuts off the light, and climbs into bed, and takes charge.
Kent rearranges the pillows so that he can lean back against him, and then he pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms tight around me, pulling me warm against his chest. He tucks the blankets in around us so that we're in a comfortable little nest, and then he rests his head against mine.
We sit like that for a moment, listening to the still rush of the waves against the ship, the distant sound of the engines churning. And I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, relishing the feeling of ceding him control - of letting him handle it all. After a few moments of peace, Kent speaks.
"Tell me," he murmurs, his voice low, his chest rumbling with the words.
And without hesitation, I do.
Kent holds me tight for what feels like hours as I tell him everything. He's a better listener than I thought he'd be, only interrupting softly when he doesn't understand, or needs more details. I start at the beginning, telling him of my sleepless night and determination, of how hard it was not only to make myself think of a plan ridiculous enough to work, but to convince myself that it could be real, that it could actually work.
My voice lowers when I begin to speak of my father, and of Ivan, and the decision to take one out and let the other live. It remains soft as I describe sorting through what felt like a very un-motherly desire for vengeance and balancing it with a cool determination to remove the true threats to our continued lives together. I give Kent the full details of how I made Ivan trust me, made him think I loved him before ruthlessly using his conviction to get him to move half the cops in the state to a point hundreds of miles from Kent's crash.
I hesitate only when it comes time to tell him about today, about this morning. But Kent's arms tighten around me, encouraging, and so I begin. My voice begins to shake a little as I'm forced to relive it - trapping my father, poisoning him, being fully aware that Fiona was arranging for the murder of his closest allies while Daniel slipped poison into his glass of champagne and then cut his throat. All to solidify our control, or dominance.
To ensure that there was no one left to come after us when we walked away.
I'm crying by the time I finish, little tears slipping down my cheeks as I wonder at the woman I've become. Because I always wanted to be a psychologist, someone who helps people.
And what am I now?
When I go quiet, and he can tell that I'm finished, Kent finally shifts, turning slightly so that he can look into my face, moving a hand to my cheek and turning my eyes towards him. Slowly, gently, he brushes my tears away.
"I'm sorry, Fay," he murmurs, and I shake my head, dismissing it -
But his hand stills. "No," he says, firmer now, and I look up at him. "I want you to hear me say it. I'm sorry - you never should have been in that position to have to have made those choices. That's my fault."
I scoff, shaking my head. "It can't be your fault, Kent - Ivan and my father did that to you -"
"I should have seen it coming," he murmurs.
"You couldn't -"
"I could have," he says, insistent, and I go quiet, looking up at him, considering that if he was willing to listen to me then I should at least do the same for him. "I failed you, and Daniel, when I didn't. If I had, you wouldn't have had to go through all of this -" "No," I say, firm now myself, frowning and shaking my head at him as I lift my hand to his face, placing the tips of my fingers across his lips. He stops, staring at me, I think surprised. But I don't let myself consider it. "I won't let you take the guilt of this from my shoulders, Kent. It's mine -"
"But even if I want to -"
"Stop," I command, serious, needing him to hear me on this. He raises his eyebrows a little, surprised.
Chapter 207
But he lets me continue.
"This is mine, Kent," I say softly, dropping my hand. "If I let you take the blame...you also take from me my conviction that all of these were my choices, that these were things that I did. From the beginning, you told me I was a pawn in this game - and I know my father felt the same -"
I see guilt flash across Kent's face as he remembers the way he explained my place in this world by demonstrating to me that I was a mere penny to be moved around the table by men more powerful than me.
"But none of this, Kent," I say softly, "none of my actions these past two months have been the natural result of a bigger player's move. It was me, choosing to step in, to play my own cards. If you try to take the guilt from me..."
He nods, understanding. "It would be me, in my way, claiming your moves as my own."
"I...won't let you do that, Kent," I say quietly, shaking my head. "I think...I think I'm different now from who I was before. It means something to me, this knowledge that I can handle myself in this world. I won't let you take it from me."
Slowly, he lowers his face, pressing his forehead to mine. "Good," he murmurs, his word a simple affirmation of everything I think and I feel. Because...I wouldn't take it back, would I?
"Will you hate me for it?" I whisper.
"Hmm?" he asks, moving a way a little, frowning at me.
"For not letting you take this from me? For...for having blood on my hands? For being different than the sweet girl you...liked?"
"Fay," Kent sighs, his frown deepening. "If you think that I haven't been aware for many months now that you're capable of great and terrible things and loved you because of it..." "What?" I ask, leaning away a little, shocked.
He laughs lightly and dips his head again, lower now, to press a kiss gently to my neck. "Maybe not from the start," he murmurs, his lips grazing my skin, making a shiver run through me. "But...very soon after, love - I realized precisely what you were, and I loved you for it." "And what I am I?" I ask, deeply curious.
"Well," he says, lifting his head and looking me in the eye. "There may be a great deal about us that is dissimilar on the surface," he murmurs. "I'm...hard, and you are soft, and sweet. And you're small, and delicate -"
"And you're gigantic," I laugh, making him laugh too, pulling me tighter against him.
"Yes, that," he continues. "And you're the bright fire to my darkness, the song to my silence, but deep down? In our hearts, our true selves, where it matters?"
And suddenly, I realize that he's right - and that this was perhaps the spark that rose between us. Kent and I - what we see echoed from the depths of each other is a reflection of ourselves. And if Kent can accept that he is capable of murder to defend the ones he loves...
...then he must accept, must have accepted for a long time, that I am as well.
"Whatever souls are made of," I murmur, lifting my chin to look steadily into his eyes.
"Yours and mine are the same," he finishes.
And I laugh, pleased even beyond myself -
"Do you remember," I say suddenly, all in a rush, "the first time I said that -"
"Yes," Kent growls, his voice harsh now, rumbling against me as he tightens his grip on my body, pulling me close, wrapping his fingers in my hair. "Except you said it about that damn horse instead of me - I've never been so jealous of a horse in my life, Fay -" I'm laughing now, warmly, richly, joy thrumming through every inch of me. But my laugh is cut short, because Kent finally -
Finally-
He claims my mouth with his own, kissing me breathless.
Things move quickly now, as they should have before - but I realize that I was holding back because I didn't understand, didn't trust that he would see me for who I am and love me anyway.
But now that I realize that he's seen it all along? And loved it all along?
God, the freedom I feel -
I let it all go then, in an instant. Any hesitations, any fears - gone.
And left in their wake is a pure, undiluted love for this man, who is my match in every way. A man who I very much want, right now.
And who very, very clearly wants me just as much.
Kent's mouth is hot, insistent on mine as he turns me in the bed, lowering me to the mattress and leveraging his body above me so that I can feel the weight of him pressing me down. I moan, my mouth open to him, at the warm press of him on top of me, the feel of his tongue moving against mine, tasting me -
But at the sound of my moan, Kent hesitates, pulling his face away, looking down towards my belly. "Is it..." he asks, flashing his eyes back up to mine, "does it hurt, me on top of you like this? The baby?"
"No," I breathe, wrapping my hand in his hair and pulling his face back to mine. "I'll tell you if it does."
With a little groan of his own, Kent presses his lips to mine, claiming me again. My sharpening breath tells him how much I want him, how much I've been waiting for this - for the feel of him again hard against me, for his mouth against my skin -
Kent has been patient before, in the past - taking his time with me, teasing me. But tonight is...not one of those times. Instead, his hands move with a steady determination, the callouses of his palms rough against my skin as he slips them beneath my flimsy nightgown, one dipping low to grab my a*s, the other sliding upwards to claim my b****t.
He groans again, louder now, as he presses me closer against him, turning to the side so that I lay with my belly pressed flush against his - or at least, as flush as it can go anymore - as he pulls at my leg, lifting it to hook my knee high over his waist.
I kiss him recklessly as I feel him shove at his boxer briefs, pushing them down. I moan a little into his mouth, shaking a little with anticipation as I feel him roll his body over mine again. I can feel the hard, swelling mass of his cock now positioned at the core of me, and I press my hips up, wanting him to press inside -
But Kent waits, taking a moment to slide one hand up my arm, lifting it above my head. I pause now, opening my eyes, curious -
And I see him looking down at me now, his eyes insistent as he pins that wrist above my head, asking me for my consent - to give it all to him, all of the control -
Control over my body tonight, yes, but also of our lives, our futures -
Kent is asking me, silently, to pass him that control. To let him take care of me, to trust him -
And I nod, slowly, as I lift my other hand as well and cross my arms at the wrist, letting him grasp both together.
Kent moans, then - dark, and heavy - as he lets his weight rest fully against me now, sliding his free hand down the length of my body as he pins my wrist above my head. I swear his moving hand leaves sparks in its wake. He wraps that hand around my hip, lifting me harder against him, and with one slow press Kent slides himself into me.
Chapter 208
The noise that tears from me as Kent presses inch by inch into me... Well. In any other situation, I think I'd be embarrassed. But tonight? I don't care.
Instead, I turn my head to the side, my stomach contracting with the deep groan that stumbles from my lips at the feel of Kent's hard c**k filling me, at the way I stretch to accommodate the wide girth of him, at how it feels so good - so incredibly right - that, f**k, god, I'd commit thirty more felonies to have this moment again.
Kent tucks his head against my shoulder as he fills me to the end of him and then he stays there for a second, fully pressed into me, making me squirm beneath him with the intensity of feeling all of him inside me. My body reacts beyond me now, writhing, my hips pressing up hard, tighter, wanting more -
With a deep exhale Kent moves his hips all in one fluid motion, pulling himself out almost to the tip, and then with a shudder he slams his hips forward, sinking all the way into me, hard. My head tilts back as I gasp, a wordless noise ripping from my throat as he does it again - and again -
Kent releases my hands and I wrap my arms around his shoulders then, my nails digging into the skin of his back as Kent pounds himself into me precisely as he wants me in this moment - hard, and desperate, and not holding an ounce of himself back. Every molecule in me responds as he fucks me hard down into the mattress, wrapping his fingers in my hair, using his grip there to tilt my head back, to expose my throat, which he licks with the hot, thick expanse of his tongue.
His teeth are on my throat as his pace starts to increase, as I cede everything to him, letting him take all control. The feel of it - the sharpness of his canines on my neck - makes me shiver with content, with anticipation as he pounds violently into me. Pleasure pools in my core as Kent pulls my head even further back, my end coming close. He brings his face close to mine now, and I feel the panting of his breath as he speaks the words against my skin. "Say it, Fay," he growls, panting - his words clipped. "You're mine. You belong to me."
"I'm yours," I moan, meaning it, wanting it - and then, as he growls with pleasure at my confirmation, I feel myself start to spill over, my entire body tensing as my inner walls clench around him, as joy and release pounding through me along with his rhythm, completely in his control.
Relief still chases through me as I come back to myself a little, as Kent continues his relentless pace, and I raise my hands to his face, turning it, making him look at me. "You say it," I demand, my lips still parted, my eyes fluttering at the intensity of it - of the aftershock, and the way he continues to fill me even as I feel my body melt back into the mattress. "Say it, Kent," I demand, holding his gaze. "You're mine too. You're mine."
A rough groan tears from Kent as his eyes fall away from mine, unable to help it as his end nears. "Fuck, Fay, yes, I'm yours," and then a louder, heavier moan accompanied by a hard slam of his hips as I feel him spill inside of me, the warm rushing feel of it sending a shiver through my entire being. "I'm yours," he murmurs again as he lowers his head again to my shoulder and then slowly rests his weight down onto me.
I sink my fingers into his hair, panting, pressing his head close. "You'd better be," I mutter, and after the second it takes for him to understand what I'm saying he looses a light laugh.
Our breathing echoes in the silence of the room for a long few minutes as I savor the feel, the warmth of him again against me. I turn my head so that it rests against his, pressing a kiss to his hair, taking a deep sniff of him. Because even though he smells of clean soap and shampoo, he also smells definitively of Kent, his very own rich smell that threatens to curl my toes with the pleasure of it.
When he catches his breath Kent raises his head to look at me. I just stare at him, blinking, before he laughs and turns over, falling onto his back and pulling me tight against him on my side. I smile, biting my lip and placing my head right on that place it has longed to be for months now - in the soft space between his chest and his shoulder. And then I close my eyes, pleased, savoring it, because this is what I've been dreaming about - quite literally - for months.
Kent and I, laying in the dark. The sheer completion and peace I feel curled up against him, his arm wrapped around me.
"So," I say softly, not bothering to raise my voice. I know he can hear me. "Rumor has it that you're in love with me, Kent Lippert."
His breathing halts for a moment and then comes all out in a frustrated rush that makes me laugh.
"Why do you never give me a chance to say this in my own time, Fay?" he murmurs, shaking his head.
"Excuse me!" I say, tiling my head up now to look at him, to watch the changing expressions of his face. "You have been on this boat for hours, you've had plenty of time!"
"When would you have had me say it," he murmurs, glaring down at me a little. "When we were sitting in the straw next to your horse? At dinner, with your father and your sister and my son watching?" "Don't forget poor Jerome," I say, pouting. "He was there too."
Kent ignores me, dismissing the point.
"Or should I have interrupted your midnight confessions, and told you then?"
"My answer to all of this is yes," I say, heaving a contented sigh. "All of these were appropriate moments. The only conclusion that I can thus come to is that your love for me is -"
He growls then, interrupting me and making me laugh as he scoots lower on the bed so that our faces are even now, even as he shakes his head at me. "Will you give me no peace?" he murmurs. "You know how I feel."
"Nope," I reply, lifting my chin and arching my back so that I press more fully against him now. "Not until you say it."
"I love you, Fay," he murmurs, and I bite my lip with pleasure, feeling it sweep through me all the way to my toes. "I love you...an insane amount. I think it makes me.... little crazy, every time I realize how incredibly much I love you, and how much you mean to me, and what a treasure you are. So please - if anything, I don't say it enough because it doesn't encapsulate enough. The words are too small."
A warmth curls in my stomach again, because I feel precisely the same.
"I know," I sigh, happy, meaning it. "But you could say it more often, if you wanted to. I'll know what you mean."
"I'll say it six times a day if it makes you happy."
"Make it twelve," I murmur, feeling mischievous. He chuckles and turns his head up towards the ceiling, a subtle smile on his lips.
"All right," he murmurs, giving me a little nod. "But you keep count and let me know how many I owe at the end of every day. I can't be bothered with that."
I laugh, smacking him lightly on his stomach, which makes him wince but grin. "Well then you owe me eleven more," I chide, my eyes on his gorgeous profile, which is lined in silver by faint moonlight filtering in from our little porthole.
Kent shakes his head, tightening his arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer. "It's past midnight," he murmurs. "I have all day to deliver the remaining words I owe."
"Fine," I say, smiling and tucking my head against him, closing my eyes. "But mark my words, Lippert. I'm coming for them tomorrow."
"You'd better," he sighs.
And then, exhausted, we both drift off to sleep.
Chapter 209
I start awake at the knocking that comes at my door, sitting up straight in bed. For a moment, I'm completely confused and a little scared - where the hell am I? But then I feel Kent's arm tighten around my waist. Immediatelt I smile, looking down at where he lays belly-down on the bed.
"Whoever it it," he murmurs, still exhausted, "...shoot them."
I laugh despite myself but then smack him lightly on the back as the knock comes again. "You know I didn't bring any guns on this boat, Kent - that's so dangerous -"
He lifts his head suddenly, looking at me with an appalled expression. "We don't have any guns?"
"Well Daniel and Jerome probably do," I say, shrugging and slipping out of the bed, reaching for my old bathrobe, which is folded neatly on the top of my suitcase. "But they wouldn't let me have one." "Clever boys," he murmurs, putting his head back down on the pillow with a content sigh.
I grin at him and move to the door, pulling it open just a little bit and peeking out. My grin deepens when I see my sister standing there with a big tray of food in her hands.
"Hey sis," she says, wrinkling her nose at me. "Any idea what time it is?"
"Um," I say, glancing over my shoulder and looking for a clock but finding none. "No?"
"It's one o'clock," she says, laughing a little.
"What?" I gasp, my eyes going wide.
She laughs harder then and shakes her head at me. "You and lover boy state up late?"
I give a little shrug and lower my eyes, letting her make what she will of my non-answer. Janeen laughs again.
"Is that for me?" I ask, looking eagerly at the tray.
"It is," she says, holding it out for me. "A little breakfast, a little lunch." I reach out to take it and then blush horribly when I see, in the corner, about five condom packets bunched neatly together in a little white tea cup.
I flinch back and then glare at her and she bursts out laughing, pleased at the result of her joke.
"Janeen!" I scold, opening the door further now and taking the tray from her hands. "You're just trying to embarrass me."
"What!" she exclaims laughing. "Safe s*x is important! And a lesson the two of you clearly have to learn!"
"Well, it's not like they're going to do any good now," I murmur, glancing down at my stomach and sending her a second glare as I move back into the room.
"Condoms protect against more than just pregnancy!" she calls after me in a singsong voice.
"Bye Janeen!" I say, mimicking her, deliberately letting her know to go the hell away.
"You're welcome, Fay!" she shouts as the door shuts behind me.
Scowling a little bit, I carry the tray over to the dresser where I neatly remove the offending item and drop it into my suitcase. Then I carry the tray over to the very tiny breakfast table with two chairs as Kent turns his head to me, sleepy and curious at once. "Breakfast?" he asks, pleased. "With a side of snide sister," I murmur.
He laughs lightly and pulls himself to the edge of the bed, tugging on the underwear he discarded last night before giving me a kiss on the cheek and heading off to the bathroom. As he freshens up, I pour us two cups of dark coffee from the French press, leaning forward to savor the smell.
When Kent comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, I'm sitting in the bed settled against the pillows, my cup is half drunk.
"You'd better get over here," I murmur. "Or your cup will be gone too."
"You'd deprive me of my first cup of proper coffee?" he asks, pretending to be appalled. "After two months in jail?"
"Kent," I say, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "I'm pregnant. The baby needs it."
He laughs, taking his cup and climbing onto the bed. When he leans back against the pillows he reaches for me, wrapping an arm around my hips and pulling me into his lap, wanting me close. "The baby doesn't need caffeine, Fay," he murmurs, shaking his head and pressing a kiss to my hair. "Though knowing you, it's been jittering around in there like a Mexican jumping bean for four months now."
"Excuse you," I say, looking him up and down. "I have been a very responsible mom for the past two months -"
"And the first two?" he asks, turning to smirk at me.
But I just narrow my eyes at him, smacking him with my free hand even though I know that he's joking. "Well someone was feeding me coffee every morning. In bed and then at breakfast. And then...maybe some in the early afternoon."
He laughs, shaking his head a little as he sips his coffee. "Kid's screwed," he murmurs. "But we'll like it anyway."
"Look on the bright side, Kent - maybe all the coffee stunted its grown and it will stay little," I sigh, rubbing a hand fondly over my stomach. "Make my job a little easier, five months from now."
"Daniel was a big baby," Kent says absently, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Really?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Mmhmm," Kent hums, turning his eyes back to me. "Almost ten pounds."
My eyes go wide and my mouth falls open, appalled.
"What?" he laughs.
"Kent!" I exclaim, still horrified, "that's gigantic!"
He shrugs a little, brushing it off. "Maybe it came from Lenai's side," he offers.
I turn my head to the side and flick my eyes over all six-foot-something of him. "Yeah," I say, my voice deeply sarcastic. "I'm totally going to buy that the giant baby gene came from your tiny first wife."
He laughs now, shaking his head. "It will be fine," he says, shrugging it off. "This baby? She's got a strong mama, and we'll get you all the good drugs."
A smile grows on my face as I peer at him now, waiting for him to figure out what he just said.
"What?" he asks, looking at me, frowning at my confusion.
"You just called the baby she," I say, laughing. "Are you team Princess Baby?"
"What?" he asks, his face scrunching a little in confusion.
I laugh again, rolling my eyes. "Janeen and Jerome think it's going to be a girl. They'll be thrilled to you have you on their side."
"Oh," he says, considering a little. "Well, I guess I am on their team, then."
"You want a little girl!?" I squeal, grinning, looking at him, every part of my heart melting just a little bit.
He looks away from me, smirking and pretending he's a cool and unemotional mob boss again, even though I now know he has more depths than that. "I don't care if it's a boy or a girl, Fay -"
"Yes, you do!" I laugh, reaching out to shove his shoulder lightly, teasing him. "You totally want a little girl, who is just like me! Another tiny Fay, so you can have two!"
His smirk deepens into a smile as he looks at me again and slowly shakes his head. "No, you've talked me out of it now - the two of you will destroy my life and drive me insane. I changed my mind - I want a boy -"
"No, you don't," I murmur, reaching behind me to put my cup down and pressing myself closer to him. Kent obliges by wrapping a warm arm around me. "You want a little baby girl, which is probably the sweetest thing you've ever said, Kent. And I'm going to tell everyone."
He groans then, which makes me laugh harder. "Don't," he sighs, shaking his head. "Just keep it between us."
"No," I say softly, shaking my head as I rest it against him, completely charmed by this sweet little detail of Kent's heart that he doesn't want anyone to know about.
"Do you really not know anything about the baby's sex?" he asks. "You've... been to the doctor and all, right?"
"Of course I have," I sigh softly. "But I told them I don't want to know. Daniel wanted to find out, but I wouldn't let him."
"Good," Kent says, huffing a little. "It's not his business."
I smile a little to myself because...well, it kind of is Daniel's business, isn't it? On paper, this child is Daniel's in every way it can be before it's born.
But I don't bring it up - not yet. Because there are some parts of our plan that I need to talk through with Daniel first, before we can bring Kent in. As much as so much of this feels over, feels finished?
There's still so much left to do.
Chapter 210
"Come on," Kent says, finishing his cup of coffee and moving as if he wants to stand up. "We need to get some food into you - you've got to be starving -"
"Nooo," I groan, leaning hard against him and making his job difficult.
"What," he laughs, pausing for a second. "You're not hungry?"
"Of course I'm hungry," I murmur, closing my eyes and tucking my head deliberately beneath his chin. "I just don't want to get out of bed. It's so lovely here. Can't we stay all day?"
"Trust me, Fay," Kent murmurs, his voice low as he drops his lips to my hair and traces a hand down the length of my back. "There's nothing I want more than to stay here with you all day. Preferably in the absence of this very ugly robe -"
"Hey!" I shout, snapping my head up to glare at him. "I've had this robe for years - Janeen brought it to me from our old house! It's perfectly broken in!"
"I can tell, Fay," he says, laughing a little and looking at it askance. "You don't have to get nostalgic about your robe - we'll get you a new one, a really nice one -"
"I don't want a new one," I scoff, "I like this one!"
"Okay," Kent says, smiling and kissing my angry mouth. "You can wear it beneath the one I get you, so I don't have to look at it."
"You're such snob," I say, laughing as I lift myself from his lap and head a little eagerly for the table, where I sink happily into one of the chairs and begin reaching for some buttered toast. Kent takes a minute to rifle through the little suitcase I packed for him, selecting some soft pants and a sweatshirt that he pulls over his head.
"Does the clothing pass your standards test, sir?" I ask a little sarcastically as I watch him settle the clothes over his tanned and muscled stomach, regretting a little the fact that the sight of it has been hidden away. Two months in jail hasn't done much to change Kent physically - he's still very hot, if perhaps a touch thinner than he was when he went in.
"It will do," Kent murmurs, sitting down across from me and smirking a little as he meets my eye. Because we both know that the clothing is all precisely what he'd want - I did my job well here, seeking out his favorite brands, trying them out on Daniel to ensure I got the size right. It all works.
I grin widely now, letting him know that I know that he likes it, and he laughs, shaking his head. "Thank you, Fay," he sighs, leaning forward and beginning to make himself a little plate of fruit, and cheese, and a half a sandwich. Though the words aren't much, I know that there's a great deal of feeling behind him - as with most things Kent says.
"You're welcome," I reply simply, smiling and taking a big bite of my toast.
Things move easily then as Kent and I have our breakfast, chatting idly about the minor details of my months at the beach house, the little preparations I made for this trip. As we talk, I can see him falling more and more into the leadership role he always assumes, his shoulders straightening, his face turning more serious. I smile to see it because this, of course, is the Kent I fell in love with.
But it's also nice to know that I now know something of the man beneath this hard surface, and that I can bring him out when I want to. When it's just us, and Kent feels safe.
I smile now, perfectly happy and shaking my head, considering that it's a wonder what the passage of the day can do. This time yesterday I was a mess of nerves, not even knowing if Kent and Jerome were going to make it to the boat, if cops were going to come screeching up to the port to arrest Daniel and I for what we did -
I blink suddenly, and my hand - holding a cup of orange juice - shakes a little bit, almost spilling my drink as it all again comes back in a flash -
My father, dead, his throat and his mouth open - shock still in his eyes, because he'd really thought the antidote was real, that I was going to give it to him -
Before even that light faded away. And he was just...dead.
"Fay?" Kent asks, leaning forward and peering at me across the table.
"Sorry," I say, clearing my throat and putting the orange juice down onto the table. "It's nothing."
"No, it's not," he insists, still looking at me. "Tell me."
I flick my eyes up to his, not wanting to. Because we're having such a nice morning -
"Tell me," he says again, an order this time.
I sigh, giving in. "It's not a big deal," I murmur. "I think it's - it's natural. I just remember, at odd moments, what we...did yesterday." I shrug, trying to downplay it - honestly because I think it needs to be downplayed. Wouldn't it be worse if I had no hard feelings about it? If I just moved blissfully on from killing my father?
Kent nods slowly, still looking at me without blinking. "Are you remembering it?" he asks.
"Yes," I say, holding his gaze. "In...strange little flashes. They come at the oddest moments -"
He nods more sharply now, sitting back, and I note that his hand grips the arm of the chair harder than it did before, as if he would break into my own mind and take the hard feelings away if he could. "That's happened to me before," he says softly. "It doesn't...end, but it gets fainter and fainter, more infrequent."
I turn my eyes downward as they start to fill with tears, not wanting him to see - but of course, how would he not notice?
I hear Kent click his tongue in concern and then he's moving, at my side in a second and scooping me out of the chair, pulling me up into his arms. He murmurs my name, a little sadly, before moving to the bed to sit me warmly in his lap again while he leans back against the pillows, a position I very much like.
But I don't have much time to appreciate the comfort and nearness of him right now, because I'm trying to hard to get my emotions under control, to reel everything back in. Where is the badass mafia donna now? I didn't even cry yesterday, when it happened - So why now, when it's so embarrassing -
"I hate that it's turned out like this," Kent murmurs, his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight against him.
I squawk a little in protest, looking up at him in surprise, making him laugh.
"No," he sighs, shaking his head, "all of this," he says, nodding around to our room, to the ship, our entire escape, "is...more than I could have asked for. But the price you paid to give it to me, Fay," he shakes his head, and I can see the guilt in his eyes.