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“I know.” He slides his thumb over my lips. “It took me a while to accept this, but now I see it. My idea for revenge was childish. The Senator has powerful allies. I get rid of one, and another one takes his place. The only way to keep you all safe is for me to kill him.”

CHAPTER39

EDWARD'S SON

Tristan

“Say it again.” I shut our bedroom door behind me and wrap my arms around Paloma’s body, kissing her neck.

“What?” She laughs, a sound that heals my body in a way that all the doctors, medications, and PT from the last three months couldn’t.

My soul split in half the moment she was taken from me.

“My name.” I brush my lips over the sensitive spot behind her ear. “You called me Tristan earlier.”

“Tristan.” She nods. “I can’t get used to it.”

“To the world, I’ll always be Archer. But now you know who I really am.” I let her shift in my arms so she’s facing me. “Archer is my mother’s maiden name. When we left here twenty years ago, Mom thought it would be best if we left the Sallows name behind.”

“I am so sorry.” She cups my cheek as her eyes well with tears. “My father did a terrible thing to you and your family. He doesn’t even regret it.”

“Shh.” I kiss her forehead. “That’s not on you. What the Senator has done to stay in office, to keep all the power he has, has nothing to do with you. You’re innocent in all this.”

“And now he knows who you really are. I told him.” Her lips turn into a frown that cuts me deep.

“Don’t worry about that.” I cradle her neck. “I will deal with him.”

I pick her up and walk her to the en-suite bathroom. We both need a shower after our hike through the woods, but more than anything, I need to satisfy my urgent need to inspect every inch of her body. I need to make sure she’s okay, that her father didn’t hurt her.

She doesn’t complain when I set her down in the shower stall and run the warm water. Instead, she slips her hands under my T-shirt and pulls it over my head. I help her out of her dress, while toeing off my shoes. The room fills with steam as the burning desire to be in each other’s arms lingers between us.

Our mouths collide in a frenzy. Her bare skin against mine feels like coming home. I deepen the kiss, pressing her against the tiled wall before I enter her. For a moment, time stops. Droplets of water drip slowly from her nose as her eyes flutter closed. This ecstasy of being inside her is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I hold her tight while my cock adjusts to her walls and the delirious feeling of her cunt sucking me in.

“Jesus.” I kiss her lips.

“God, I missed you. You have no idea how much.” She runs her hands over my shoulders.

“Show me.” I let her take over.

Blushing, she flashes me a sexy smile and slides down my body until she’s on her knees. I let out a moan, bracing both hands on the cold tile. I don’t miss how while she’s sucking me off, she’s also exploring my new scars. She can never know the hell I went through to get back to us. Being apart was its own fucking hell. But we’re here now. The rest doesn’t matter. I plan on spending the rest of my life making up for the three months we were apart—when she thought I was dead.

I let her take me to the very edge of my climax before I bring her to her feet and cage her against the wall again. Hooking her leg over my arm, I swell into her with all the pent-up desire I feel. She surrenders her body to me. That alone pushes me past the precipice.

As it always happens, my orgasm burns through me like wildfire. I ram into her as her slick walls cling to my cock. I’m so fucking addicted to her. I continue to fuck her until every last bit of pleasure has been spent, and I can’t feel my cock anymore.

“Tristan,” she whispers as she kisses my neck and chest. “Tristan.”

Her melodic voice fills up all the empty spaces in my chest, and it gives me the fuel I need to do what I have to do next. I don’t care how Paloma and I got started. I don’t care that her father killed mine. All I want is to keep her forever. And for that, the Senator must die. And it has to be tonight.

When she recovers from her high, she picks up the washcloth and moves behind me to scrub my back. “Tell me what happened. After you left the Hamptons.”

“I almost bled to death.” I glance up, keeping my muscles relaxed.

“And then. How did you survive?” she asks, gently running the washcloth over my scars.

“Gardenia and Jacob took me to a private clinic. I stayed there under an alias until I came out of my coma. After that, I moved to an apartment in the city where I did physical therapy.” I pause as she runs her hands over my hip.

“Why PT?” She kisses my back.