Read Rebecca's Forgotten Journal + Bonuses and Extras Collection Page 12

“And that,” Kayden says, as we enter the stairwell leading to the house. “Is why I asked who you were talking about.”

  I pause before we travel the narrow path upward. “Where there’s fire there’s fire. As we have proved.”

  “Adriel-”

  “Loves her.”

  “Loves her?”

  “Yes,” I say. “I believe he does. And one day you will believe that too.” I turn and march up the stairs, with Kayden on my heels, and when we reach the last step, just before we open the door, he catches my waist, and pulls me to him, his hands sliding to my belly, his face buried in my neck. His emotions, his torment over my capture, radiating off of him.

  I cover his hand with mine, leaning into him and for long moments, we just stand there. We don’t speak. We don’t have to speak. I’d feared for him today when Neuville threated to have him shot. He’d feared for me. I know he did. But now, we are here, we are together. “I need you in our bed, in our room,” he murmurs, near my ear, his fingers flexing on my stomach, before he reaches around me and opens the door.

  I enter the house, and he is instantly beside me, holding my hand as if he’s afraid I’ll be ripped away, as if now that we are home–home, I think–he can allow everything he’s been feeling for hours on end, to surface. And the tightness in my chest, that ball of emotion I can’t quite name, says I am experiencing the same thing. We’ve barely made it down the short walkway to enter the foyer when Marabella is in front of us, flinging her arms around me.

  “We were so worried about you,” she declares. “I was worried about you.” She holds me, and I have this flashback of my mother holding me, the same way, in that closet, moments before my father died and I killed his attacker. A memory that is like a blade to my heart, and I swear, I shot a man in the balls and loved it tonight, and now I want to cry.

  Marabella leans back and looks at me. “You’re family now,” she says. “Our family. You don’t get to die on us. That’s an order.” She releases me. “Now. Your friend and her man are in their room. And I’ve left some snacks in yours as well. I’ll be up early and have breakfast ready for everyone in the center tower.” She eyes Kayden and then surprises me by walking to him and hugging him. “We’re keeping her. All of us.”

  Kayden laughs. “Yes. We are.” He lifts my hand and shows her my ring.

  Marabella’s eyes go wide. “Oh my God. It’s gorgeous.” He reaches for my hand and spends five minutes gushing and asking questions. “When? How much time do I have to plan the wedding?”

  “Ella and I need time to talk that out,” Kayden says, his hand settling possessively on my spine. “But right now. I need my Lady Hawk, to myself.”

  “Of course,” she agrees, blowing us both kisses and heading toward her tower door.

  It feels like forever before Kayden and I are in our castle tower again, at our bedroom door, Chris and Sara, sealed in the room at the opposite side of the hallway. Kayden opens the door for me, and I step inside, to find Marabella has prepared the room for us, the lights on a dim glow, the fireplace with them. The door shuts behind me and Kayden catches my arm. Turning me to face him, his hands settle on my waist, his big body walking mine backwards until I’m pressed to the giant pillar that is part of the headboard.

  “My Lady Hawk,” he repeats, seeming to like how it sounds, his voice a low, rough sound. “My future wife.”

  I like how that sounds, I decide, and I lift my hand with the pink diamond ring, the pink symbolic of my ballet slippers. “Have I mentioned how perfect it is?”

  He catches my hand, closing his around it. “Have I told you how crazy I went when I found out Neuville took you?”

  “I’m your Lady Hawk for a reason, Kayden. You have to believe in my skills. You have to know I’ll come back to you.”

  “Your skills are all that kept me sane, but you can’t promise me you’ll return. Neither of us can ever promise to come back. No one can, even in a normal life, and we are not living a normal life.”

  “Evil Eye,” I say. “I have the protection of Evil Eye and even without it, I am no wilting flower.”

  “I know these things, sweetheart. I do. Who you are is what makes you belong with me and in this world, but Neuville wasn’t a random enemy. This was a man who did things to you, I swore he’d never get the chance to do again.”

  “He didn’t,” I promise, my hands flattening on the hard wall of his chest. “He didn’t do those things to me again. Your mark on my arm, saved me that hell. It disgusted him. He planned to burn it off before he touched me.”

  He narrows his eyes on me. “There’s more,” he says. “What happened, Ella?”

  My gaze slides downward, to my ring, to the promise of commitment to this man, that has taken my life by storm in all the right ways, while Neuville represented all things bad.

  “Ella,” Kayden says, sliding a finger under my chin.

  “Nothing I didn’t handle or he wouldn’t be the one dead right now.”

  He cups my face. “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “You know what.”

  “I’m not shutting you out. He just doesn’t get to matter anymore. I ended him. We ended him and with him, a past I’m glad to be done with.”

  “Ella,” he prods softly.

  “Fine. He made me strip my clothes off on the plane, and then he tied me to the seat, to fly that way. But he didn’t touch me. So see? It didn’t happen.”

  “He just looked at you?” he says but it’s not a question. “That’s still you being violated once again by him.”

  “He’s gone. You’re here. We’re here. That’s all that matters to me now. Our future. Whatever that may be. And if you wanted to fuck me right now, feel free.”

  “What I’d like is to hold the woman I love in my arms and make love to her. Slowly. All night long.” His hands slide under my shirt, his touch warm, where my skin had been cold. My heart also warm now where it had been cold before him. Well, except for a warm spot for Sara, that took me by surprise, the same way, Kayden took me by surprise.

  He pulls my shirt off, our eyes locking, a collision of heat and passion. He removes the shoulder holster he’s wearing, and the minute he’s tossed it and his weapon on to the bed, I reach forward, and slide my hands to his skin and his lashes lower, as if my touch affects him deeply. I have my memory back now enough to know, I’ve never affected anyone the way I affect Kayden. Nor has anyone ever affected me the way he does. I caress his shirt upward, and he pulls it over his head, his broad shoulders and chest, hard not to admire, but my gaze locks in on his tattoos. To the words trailing his arm that translate to: Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box. The words speaking volumes tonight, when it could have easily been one or both of us lifeless instead of Neuville. But the heat radiating from this man I love so deeply brings my focus back to us. To him.

  He steps closer, and turns me to face the pole, reaching around me to press my hands to the wooden surface. “Don’t move,” he orders, his hands trailing down my arms and over my shoulders until he unhooks my bra, his palm flattening between my shoulders. And I swear I have goosebumps everywhere even though I’m not cold. It’s just this incredible ability Kayden has to touch me everywhere when he’s touching me only one place.

  I inhale and shiver on a shuttered breath, amazed at how incredibly right being vulnerable is with Kayden, how sexy it is. How willing I am to be owned by this man. And I cannot help but think of the difference between him and Neuville. To think of the trust this represents. “Don’t move, sweetheart,” he murmurs, as if testing that trust, his hands and body no longer touching me. But I am rewarded with the sound of him undressing, and it is only a minute before he’s back, his palm trailing down my back before he turns me, and he is indeed naked, and hard, so damn hard everywhere.

  He presses me against the pillar again, his shaft at my hip, hands branding my waist, his eyes smolder before his cheek
is pressed to mine, lips near my ear, “I’m going to kiss every part of you. I’m going to make you forget he ever looked at you. He ever touched you.”

  “I’ve already forgotten,” I promise him. “The moment you looked at me again. The moment you touched me.”

  “I’m not convinced,” he says, his breath warm on my neck, his lips trailing there, while his hands caress my waist, my breast, my nipples. And so the kissing begins. My neck. My cheek. My lips. My shoulders. My breasts. My belly as he goes down on his knee and unbuttons my jeans. In moments, I’m naked, and he is back on his knees, his hand at one hip, his teeth and lips at the other. And then his mouth, his dangerously sexy, sometimes brutal mouth, is on my clit, and I really don’t care if he licks me any other place. This one is just right. My fingers slide into his hair, and I am lost. Completely utterly lost to every lick, touch, drag of his fingers along my sex, and when he slips two fingers inside me, I am ridiculously right where I need to be way too soon. There is no warning. No build up I fight. Suddenly, I am just shattering from head to toe. And when it’s over, it’s as if I’ve released every bit of control I’d harnessed the past twelve hours. My knees collapse and I don’t even have it in me to catch myself. I just trust Kayden to catch me. And he does.

  He scoops me up and it hits me that I carry my gun and my skills, as weapons and shields. But with Kayden, I am just a woman. But he is never just a man to me. He is safety. Shelter. Security. The only person I can let down my guard with and I know he believes he’s dangerous to me and everyone. When I believe he’s protector to all and if I can make him see that tonight, I will. I’m going to make him stop living in the past as if it’s a sin he can never be forgiven for.

  It’s with that thought, that he settles me on the bed, coming down on the mattress with me, and we roll to our sides, facing each other, our legs twined, the thick length of him between my thighs. His fingers lacing into my hair. “I haven’t even begun to show you how many ways I can kiss you,” he promises, pressing inside me, stealing my breath yet again as he slides deeper, and deeper, and with that promise, his mouth closes down on mine.

  And yes. I am lost all over again. Forever, with this man.

  ***

  I wake in a now familiar place: on my side, with Kayden at my back, his big, hard body draped around me, the fireplace embers a warm glow before me. “When are you going to marry me?” Kayden asks, his voice still sleep roughened.

  I roll over to face him, my hand settling on his jaw, the rasps of dark stubbles beneath my fingers. “Anytime, anyplace.”

  “It’s a big deal, when a Hawk marries. People, Hawks, will come from around the world, to not only witness our vows, but to personally commit to your protection.”

  “Oh,” I say, the nagging emptiness of having no one to invite, impossible to escape. “It’s…that’s…I thought it could be just you and I.”

  “There are many people who now love you, Ella. Many more who will in the future. You will be a leader in the Underground, like no other Lady Hawk has ever been.”

  “I don’t want to be a leader. I just want to be your wife.”

  His lips curve. “You’re not capable of just being my wife and that’s why you’re you.”

  “What does that even mean. I’ll be a leader?”

  “It means whatever you make it mean but you will. I know you. You will need to be a part of things. You will need to make your mark. Just like you need that dance studio to dance. And you need your friend Sara at the wedding.”

  “I’m not sure she will want to be there. And even if she does, Chris-”

  “Loves her too much to keep her away from you. I see that in him. And yes. She will want to be here. We need months of planning. That gives them time to recover from what just took place, and we can provide them security.”

  “New Years,” I say. “A new year and a new life.”

  “Yes,” he agrees. “I like that. A new year and a new life.”

  He joins our hands, melding our Hawk tattoos at our wrists together. “Ella Wilkens. I like it and I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I say.

  “Ella,” he breathes out.

  “Kayden,” I breathe out.

  And then we laugh, laughter we created together. Laugher I know he did not do much before me and that he still does not, is one of the most amazing gifts he can ever give me.

  Bonus Liam & Amy Scene

  This is a bonus scene from The Secret Life of Amy Bensen series.

  AFTER UNBROKEN ends… This is a scene in Liam Stone’s point-of-view. This is the only scene in his POV ever and was never published, it was just a bonus for readers.

  ***SPOILERS FOR MY AMY BENSEN SERIES ARE IN THE FOLLOWING EXCERPT!!!***

  Liam…

  I am at the center of a holiday party inside Rockefeller Center, trapped in a conversation with two men rambling about politics, listening without hearing, my attention on one thing. Amy. She stands a good twenty feet distant, too far away to suit me, at one of the many tables of food in the room, surveying the appetizers being offered, her long blonde hair sleek and silky around her shoulders. She is stunning in a form-fitting V-neck dress of silver lace that I’d insisted she buy after I saw the way her eyes lit up when it caught her eye in the store. She, in turn, shyly suggested we match, proceeding to choose my light grey suit and silver tie, a pairing that affected me beyond a clothing choice. This woman has come into my life and become my better half, my second chance to live, when I didn’t even realize I needed a second chance. The same second chance she needed.

  “Andrews is the right candidate,” one of the men next to me says. “He has the right idea on…”

  I tune him out, watching Amy select one of the variety of French chocolates atop the lace-draped table beside her. She nibbles a sweet delight, and while my gaze can’t quite reach her kissable lips, I know them to be far sweeter than any chocolate on that display. She turns away then, placing herself in profile to me, her gaze falling on the window now directly in front of her, where Christmas lights twinkle, the famous holiday tree sparkling at the edge of the ice rink, but again, I do not see the view.

  I see her.

  And I see the way she bunches the napkin in her palm, curling her fingers over it, and I know Amy well enough to see that one small thing as a clear indication to me that she’s barely containing her fear of being in public. Fear I know to be driven by a secret we will never escape. She is certain it will sneak up on us and attack with the same brutal fierceness of her parents’ murders. But I won’t let that happen. I have control, and I will ensure that secret will never hurt Amy again.

  “Liam,” one of the men begins, but I ignore him, and am walking toward Amy, I’m angry with myself for failing to make her feel safe. And I am irritated as a cluster of tuxedo-clad men, and several women in sparkling gowns, separate me from her. I cut around them, finding my direct path to Amy, my energy both predatory and protective. She is mine to protect. No one will hurt her.

  She must sense my energy, abruptly turning away from the window to face me, and the instant her gaze lands on me, her reaction is what I assume she must see in me, her eyes registering appreciation, attraction, love. And God, how I love this woman in a way I never believed possible. Completely, totally. She is part of who I am.

  She inhales as I near, relief washing over her expression at my rejoining her side, and while I am pleased I comfort her, I do not want her to need that comfort from nothing more than a public outing. I stop in front of her, my hands settling possessively at her waist. “You belong with me.”

  “You weren’t beside the chocolates,” she says, giving a nervous laugh.

  Ignoring her attempt at humor, I step closer to her, aligning our legs and tilting my head down toward her. “Breathe, baby.”

  Her hand flattens on my chest. “I’m trying.”

  I inch back, my gaze meeting hers. “We’re sending a powerful message by stepping out in publi
c. We have nothing to hide.”

  “And yet we do, and we always will.”

  I brush a lock of hair from her eyes. “We have to forget it exists.”

  “I know you think this is the best way to face this, Liam, but forgetting, and living my life, that’s what got me in trouble.”

  “Because you were running blind with no understanding of your enemy and no control of your destiny. We have control.”

  “We,” she repeats, still not seeming to fully get her head around the fact that she isn’t alone anymore. That she will never be alone again.

  “We, baby,” I confirm. “And since I still see fear in your eyes, you’re forcing me to take action.”

  Her eyes narrow on mine. “Oh no. If you’re about to go all-out Liam Stone on me, don’t. Not here. Not now.”

  I lean in and press my cheek to hers, my lips finding her ear. “We’re going to take a little fuck break from the party and come back refreshed.”

  “Liam,” she gasps, and I laugh at her shock, loving the perfect combination of sweet and sexy that is the woman I’ve fallen in love with. “Already,” I add, “you aren’t thinking of anything but me. Exactly what I want.”

  Her hand flattens on my chest once more, and she leans back to look at me. “Liam-”

  “You know how I like it when you say my name,” I say, lacing her fingers with mine. “Amy.” I start walking, leading her, our destination someplace quiet and private. Her destination my tongue and enough pleasure she forgets everything but how to say my name again. Several people try to garner my attention, but I have only one person on my mind and that’s Amy.

  I weave through the bodies, the tables, and the security team at the door to lead her down a hallway to a bathroom where I enter and take her with me. Before she has time to blink, I have us sealed in the small room, the door locked, and her pressed against it.

  “We are not-” she starts.

  I kiss her, a deep passionate kiss, and she tastes of champagne, chocolate and the only happiness I’ve known in decades. She is my next breath, my life, my love, and I want her to taste of me. I want to taste of her every second of every day. That thought has me stroking deeper, licking against her tongue, trying to consume her, to possess her, and when she moans, giving herself to me, that is what really matters. That is what is so right. She gives herself to me. Freely. Completely. And I want to deserve the trust that she has given no one—not even her brother—but me. She moans, telling me she is lost in me, in us, and only then do I tear my mouth from hers and promise, “You are going to come for me before we leave this room.” I go down on one knee, my hands to her legs, my fingers walking her dress upward.