Read My Valentine: Siren #2 Page 13

“How about this?” David asks, drawing my attention to an oversized, well-over-the-top expensive crib. It’s silver with diamond tufted panels along with a very soft cushion on the sides. I check the price and gasp.

  “David, this is two grand. It’s a baby. He or she only needs a comfortable bed to sleep in.”

  David smiles at me. Right now, he looks so happy. “Only the best for my son or daughter. I’m not scrimping and saving when it comes to this little one.” He walks over, brushing his hand over my small protruding belly. I only have a small bump, but I feel like I’m the size of a whale.

  “Aww, is Daddy getting broody?” I tease. David’s eyes meet mine, and it’s like I’m meeting the boy he used to be for the very first time. His eyes are lit up, taking ten years off his age. I’ve never seen him so happy.

  “I can’t wait till I meet him or her.”

  I smirk. “He or she is going to come out with a silver spoon in his or her mouth if you’re not careful. I don’t want this child being brought up spoilt rotten.”

  He frowns. “What’s wrong in being spoilt? I spoil you.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, and look how I am!” I reply jokingly.

  “You’re perfect.”

  My smile fades when he says this, and the moment is lost. In fact, David looks positively angry now. “I’m getting it. Let me talk to the sales girl whilst you look for a pushchair.”

  Frowning, I nod, and turn to walk towards the pushchairs, wondering what on earth has gotten into David. I scan the aisles of pushchairs thinking they all look pretty much the same to me. It’s a baby. As long as it gets fed and has its nappy changed, it’s not going to care what the latest pushchair trends are. As long as it goes when I tell it to, and the baby’s comfortable, what more do I need? I swear there are about fifty on display. It’s making my head spin.

  I get to the back of the shop, scanning yet more pushchairs and their price tags when something catches my eye. Looking up, my breath hitches when I find Stuart coming into the shop with another woman. They both smile at one of the sales girls as they stroll in before making their way to the clothing section.

  My feet are frozen to the spot. I know I should move, but I can’t stop staring. He’s just how I remembered all those months ago, but his hair is a little longer, and he looks unshaven. His clothes aren’t as dapper as they used to be, making me wonder if he’s let himself go a bit. I don’t know who this woman he’s with is, but I can tell straight away they’re not intimate. I remember Stuart being tactile, but he’s not making a move to hold her hand or place his arm around her … nothing.

  I know I should look away—even walk away—but I can’t stop staring. Do I miss him? To be honest, I haven’t really thought that much about Stuart since what Reid did to me. In fact, Stuart is just a reminder of something that would have ultimately been the biggest mistake of my life. Yes, I did love him in my own unique way, but he would never have been able to give me what I need … what I crave.

  “Scarlet, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a—” David stops talking once his eyes land on where I’m looking. I sense him staring before looking back at my expression. “Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand with a huff. “We’re leaving.”

  In quick time, David’s pulling me out of the shop and into the elevator that takes us down to the parking garage. He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell by the look on his face that he’s fucking pissed off. At what, I have no idea.

  We make the half-hour journey back in deathly silence. I can tell he’s quietly stewing over something, but he doesn’t say anything. Then, James Arthur’s “Naked” plays softly in the background, and I notice David concentrating like he’s listening to the words of the song. When the lyrics reach the part about her pretending she doesn’t need anyone, David shakes his head and laughs silently with a look of knowing frustration plain on his handsome face. That’s all until we get home and walk inside. Suddenly, David throws the door back with a bang, making me jump.

  “Do you still have feelings for him?”

  I pull the stupid hat and sunglasses off before ripping the oversized coat. “What?” I ask, noticing how angry he looks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry.

  “I saw the way you were looking at Stuart in the shop. Do you still love him?”

  As I place my coat on top of the sofa, I frown at him. “David, what’s brought this on?”

  “Just answer the fucking question,” he seethes, gritting his teeth.

  A part of me wants to lie and say yes just to see the reaction I get from him, but another part—a part I’m afraid of—wants to relieve any pain he might be feeling. It quite frankly confuses the fuck out of me.

  “No,” I eventually answer. I opt for the truth because I know in my heart of hearts I can’t do that to him. It still bothers me that he’s unhappy about something.

  “I think you’re lying. I saw that look on your face.”

  I shake my head, my frown deepening. “It was unexpected, and I was shocked. That’s all it was. Why do you think I might still feel something for him?” I see when David’s eyes flit down to my belly, and it all clicks into place. “Ah. Because he might be the father of my baby. You think I may want to run to him once the baby’s born. Is that it?”

  “Is that such an inconceivable thought?”

  I look down for a moment before responding. “I guess not. But I have to tell you, David, that no matter who the father is, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve committed myself to staying here with you and raising the baby with you. I would never—”

  “Marry me.”

  I take a step back, using the sofa to support me. My heart stills, wondering if he’s just said what I thought he said. “What?” I ask, confused.

  With a look of determination, David steps forward, closing the distance between us. Once he’s within arms distance, he places both hands on my shoulders and fixes me with his deep brown eyes. “Marry me.”

  I almost laugh. “But the paternity test—”

  “I don’t give a shit about the paternity test. All I give a shit about is being with you. I don’t care what that fucking piece of shit paper says.” When I’m too shocked to respond, he grips my shoulders, making me look at him again. “I feel a great deal for you, Scarlet. More than you realise. You’re all I think about. You’re all I ever think about.”

  Those words are uttered as if it were as easy as breathing fresh air.

  When he witnesses my reaction to what he’s just revealed, he stiffens before saying, “Well, what do you expect? You’re here with me every day. You are with me, and you spend time with me. You converse with me every day—sometimes until the early hours of the morning. We have sex every day, and despite my trying to keep my distance, you creep your way into my heart. I try to go to my own bed, but you insist that I sleep with you … and hold you in my arms. And then, when the morning comes, I find you still wrapped up in those same arms. You tell me that you’re not capable of any emotion, and yet, you’re still here. Still with me. You haven’t run away, and also, every day, you manage a smile whenever you see me. I don’t expect anything from you, but … how can you ask me for all of this and somehow expect me not to feel?”

  I don’t want to let his words seep deep into my heart. All I know in this life is how to fight. I need to fight him—every step of the way.

  With a snarl I don’t mean on my face, I shout back, “You don’t get to fall in love with me. Nobody does!”

  I see the hurt in his eyes, and I know I’ve pushed him. It’s me all over. I expect him to run and leave me. That’s what I’m used to. That’s all I’ve ever known.

  It’s all I deserve.

  I certainly don’t expect it when he stands his ground. With his chest heaving and his face full of determination, he shouts back, “Well, it’s too late, lady … ‘cause I already have!”

  It’s like the air has been sucked out of me. I’m frozen. I’m unable to move, think, or even feel. Numbness shrouds me for a f
ew fleeting seconds, but then the situation hits me like a ton of bricks. I should imagine he was expecting shock. I should also imagine he was expecting a fight. What I can tell he doesn’t expect is me laughing my head off.

  I know I should stop, but I can’t. At first David frowns like he doesn’t know what to do about my reaction. But then, all of a sudden, he’s laughing along with me. Deep, bellowing laughter wracks our bodies, making the tension of the last few weeks fly out his oversized bay windows.

  Once we’re calm, I say, “You’re such a dirty bastard, do you know that?”

  Without saying anything at first, David casually strolls to his drinks canister and pours himself a large scotch. “I’m tired of fighting all the time.” He downs the whole lot and stares off into space. “I’m tired of fighting my feelings for you, tired of fighting against touching you just in case of whom I might be to you, and I’m tired of telling myself that I’m not in love with you when it’s so fucking obvious that I am.” He pours himself another drink before sitting down on the sofa.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  David puffs out a slight laugh before shaking his head. “You don’t have to say anything. I already know how you feel. I guess I just couldn’t keep in what it is I’m feeling for you anymore, though.” He looks up to the ceiling, shaking his head. “Forget I asked you to marry me. I don’t expect an answer to that either. I said it in the heat of the moment.”

  Sitting down next to him, I scoot closer till our knees are touching. “Did you not mean it?”

  He snaps his head to me. “I fucking meant it alright. I’d marry you in a heartbeat. I already know you don’t feel that way about me, so I just want you to forget I said anything. As long as you stay and keep your end of the bargain about letting me help raise the baby, then I’ll be fine.” He takes another swig of his drink until it’s all gone before cradling it in his hands. Watching him is like watching a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I can’t say that I’m not shocked by him asking me, but what I am shocked by the most is the fact that I don’t want to leave. By now, I would normally be running for the door, seeking an escape from the mountain of emotional shit I can’t handle.

  I hate emotional shit.

  But, for some reason, I don’t want to leave David. I don’t feel the pressure from him as I did with Stuart or Reid. I don’t know what it is I feel, but I know I don’t want to leave him.

  So, I take his glass from his hand, place it on the table, and offer him my own hand. He looks at it at first and then at me before clasping his hand in mine. He gives me a quizzical look as I lead him up the stairs to his room and undress him. Once he’s bare, I take off all my clothes and I kneel in front of him, taking his already hardened cock into my mouth. David hisses, and grasping my hair, he eases my mouth up and down his shaft. I coat him well with my juices, swirling my tongue around his impressive length.

  “You’re going to make me come in your mouth if you keep on like that when what I really want to do is come inside of you.”

  I pull away, leading him to the bed, and I kiss him before we lay down together. I turn on my side and feel when David scoots up behind me, laying kisses down the side of my neck. I feel aroused, but I also feel scared shitless about what I’m about to say and do.

  As he parts my legs slightly to enter his cock inside me, I stop him. “David,” I whisper with a slight tremor in my voice.

  “What’s the matter, Scarlet? You’re shaking.”

  “I want you to be my first.” My heart beats like a fucking drum. I don’t know whether I can go through with this, but—for David—I’ll try.

  “I don’t understand.” I turn my head, looking him in the eye. I’m conveying my message without saying anything at all. When I see the moment he gets my meaning, I offer him a light smile.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” He knows how much of a big deal this is for me. I told David about the time Richard raped me there and what a mess I was afterwards. It’s been my one and only constant fear ever since. I never thought the day would ever come when I would ask someone to have sex with me there, but because it’s David, I have. David knows just how much this will mean without either of us saying the words.

  I still feel that petrifying fear crawling up my spine just from knowing what’s coming, but I still want it. It matters to me that it will be David who is getting it. That makes all the difference.

  So, in the end, I offer him a big smile as I rub my hand up and down his arm. “You won’t. I trust that you won’t.”

  “Just so you know, I’ve never… That is, I haven’t done this either.” That surprises me a little, and I can tell by the look on his face that he can see it. “I know it may surprise you, but it’s the truth.”

  “Well, then,” I answer, breathing out a soft sigh. “We can be each other’s firsts.”

  He looks uncertain. “Only if you’re sure?”

  “I’ve spent years frightened over that man and what he’s done to me. I’m tired of it, David. All I’ve known is the bad. I want you to replace the bad with the good.”

  Bending down to kiss me, he stares into my eyes a moment. “You don’t realise just how much it means to hear you say that.”

  I turn my head away when I say, “I don’t know how to say those words … the words you want to hear.”

  With his hand, he pulls my chin over to face him again. “This already speaks volumes to me, Scarlet. I know how much this means to you without you having to spell it out.” He then kisses me deeply, our tongues meshing together in a rhythmic dance. As he leans forward a little, his hand ducks between my legs where he starts playing with my clit. I moan—all thoughts of what we’re about to do momentarily gone.

  He then parts my legs and I think he’s going to enter me there. Without meaning to, I freeze. “It’s okay,” he says soothingly. “Not just yet. I want to get you ready for me, baby.” As he spreads kisses at the back of my neck and shoulder, I close my eyes, relaxing instantly. “You have the smoothest, softest skin,” he says, sliding his hand from my hip up to my breasts. He then squeezes my breast. “And these are fucking phenomenal. I could play with these all day.” I chuckle, but stop the moment he pushes his cock inside me. “I’m going to work you up. Get your juices coating my dick and getting it ready for you.”

  I moan again when he starts thrusting inside of me, but then he takes himself out and starts rubbing his dick against my other entrance. At first, I freeze again, but then he teases it around there for a moment before putting it back in. He repeats this another two times, and by the third I’m nicely relaxed and ready for him. David must sense this because I feel him begin. Slowly but surely, he puts the head of his cock at my tight entrance and pushes in by an inch or so.

  I gasp at the slight intrusion, but it doesn’t hurt.

  “Do you want me to pull out?” he asks in a strained voice. “Say you want it over, and you have my word, Scarlet.”

  I shake my head, and it’s only then I realise I have tears in my eyes. “No. I want you to continue. Replace the bad with the good, David.”

  He inches forward again, and again I gasp. David stills, his breathing heavy, and his hand gripped on my hip shaking. “Fuck, Scarlet. It’s so tight.”

  “Keep going,” I cry, urging him forward. I’m never going to get over this unless he pushes his way in completely.

  With one final thrust forward, David is at the tilt. For a moment, he stills again, his hand massaging my hip. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I answer.

  Bending forward, David kisses my shoulder and parts my legs again to start playing with my clit. He doesn’t move at first, just makes leisurely circles around my clit. Once I moan and relax more, David starts to move real slowly.

  “I want to make this good for you, baby. Nice and slow. I want to feel you come around me.”

  At his words, I close my eyes, surprising myself when pleasure shoots through me rather than pain. My breathing becomes labou
red, and with each stroke, I’m taken to new heights. I only ever associated this act with agonising, burning pain, but this … this is so different to anything I ever expected.

  “Fuck, Scarlet, I can’t go fast otherwise I’m going to shoot my fucking load. You feel incredible.” His hand movements quicken around my clit, causing me to go rigid with an impending orgasm. “Thank you for this,” he whispers, and it’s this that causes my orgasm to rob me of any words as well as my sight.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He grunts, thrusting forward. “Shit, I’m going to come. I’m going to fucking come!” I feel the moment when he pushes forward and comes inside of me, and I wait for that disgusted feeling to wash over me like it always did with Richard. It never does. Instead, I close my eyes on a smile as I feel David’s arms wrap around me from behind. He pulls out, making me wince slightly, but soon he has me cocooned in a tight ball.

  “I fucking love you so much.” I tense, causing him to grip me. “Don’t you dare! For once in your fucking life, allow someone to love you like you should be loved. Allow someone to feel things for you they can’t help feeling. You may not think it now, but what you just allowed me to do with you speaks volumes in terms of what you feel for me. I don’t need your words.”

  I allow myself to relax, and David snuggles his head into the crook of my neck before kissing me. As he settles down, sliding his hand up my arm, I feel I should say something, but words escape me. I want to tell him I’m not capable of loving anyone. I thought I was with Stuart, but I was kidding myself. I may just be kidding myself now, but the part of me that says that doesn’t know what’s holding me back. I know I’ve given more to David than I have to anyone, but that could just be a heat of the moment thing.

  Couldn’t it?

  Reid

  “How have you been since we spoke on the phone? Any more hallucinations?”

  On a smirk, I shake my head. I feel good today. In fact, I’m feeling better than I have in a long fucking time. But then again, it kind of helps when you have a crush on your therapist, and she turns up wearing an above the knee skirt rather than her normal below the knee ones. Just looking at her knees turns me on. It’s almost like peeling my first layer off her. Bit by bit, achingly slow.