Page 33 of Just This Once (Stone Family #2)

She lets me lead her to the living room, where I hang up her coat and purse and urge her to sit on the couch then lock up the front door before taking Frankie out back, where I scream silently, adding a few shadow punches for good measure.

The dog comes to sit at my feet, eternally happy, and I wish we could all be so lucky to be as oblivious as him.

Inside, I toss down a bunch of treats so he’ll leave Taryn and me alone then walk back into the living room, where I find her curled up on herself.

I feel downright useless. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. ”

“I’m used to it.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to be.”

She wiggles her nose, blinking rapidly, and I start toward her, but she holds her hand up, not wanting to be touched right now, so I stay in place. Standing in front of her, desperate to do something yet unable to help.

“Talk to me,” I say quietly, and she sniffs, turning her face away from me, clearing her throat.

“I…” She shakes her head as if to clear it. “I hate that he’s in my life forever. That my kids have to witness that. I always promised myself I wouldn’t put my kids through what I went through, and…”

I sit on the edge of the chair across from her. “You are an amazing mom, and you shouldn’t feel guilty about anything.”

Her throat bobs on a swallow, and I can tell she’s really trying not to cry. I wish she would. I wish she’d give me her tears.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she lets me in on her innermost thoughts, “I want to be a good example for Maddie. I want her to see what a strong woman looks like.”

“You are a force to be reckoned with. You might not feel like it right now, but I can promise you that Maddie knows you fight for her.” I am sure of that because I know what it feels like when your mother doesn’t.

“I want Jake to know what it is to be a good man.” After a moment, she meets my gaze. Her eyes are clear, and her voice is even. “Like you.”

Her words hit me square in the chest, and I press one hand to my heart, the other on my knee when I bend over to catch my breath, all the air knocked from my lungs .

“And I feel like I’m fucking it all up,” she says, another wallop. This time to the gut. Because she’s vocalized that sentiment before, but she’s not fucking it up. She’s doing everything she can, all while convincing herself that it’s not enough.

That she isn’t enough.

“How can I help you?” I ask, standing up, and she licks her lips, sawing her teeth into her bottom one in thought.

“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing I can do either. I can’t protect my own children because a piece of paper says I have to send them with him. I can’t protect Maddie from hurting. I can’t keep Jake from potential trauma. I am completely powerless.”

“You’re not. You’re resilient and caring and the best mom for your kids, and you should be proud that you’re here.

I’m sure it feels like shit sometimes, but you have proven to everyone how strong you are.

You are powerful, Taryn.” I take two steps toward her, hoping she’ll finally allow me to comfort her.

“What can I do? Make you coffee? Get you candy? Put on I Love Lucy ?”

She sniffles, picking at the blanket next to her. “I don’t know.”

It kills me that she feels this way. Her heartache is physical.

A visceral thing. Every atom in my body screams to help.

To take all of her pain away. She could ask me for anything right now, and I’d do it.

Go drive to Barrett’s house and dig his eyes out with a spoon?

Absolutely. Build her a castle with a moat where no one would ever be able to get to her?

Immediately. Hand over my own heart to her? Yes, please.

“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I told you, there’s nothing you can do. I feel like I failed as a mom, and I need to sit in that for a while.”

But I can’t simply sit here while she’s in distress, so I find her candy stash and then start a pot of coffee.

According to her, it’s never too late for caffeine or sugar, and it’s one of the reasons I love her.

When I have a mug and some chocolates in hand, I head back to her, depositing them on the side table.

“You didn’t?—”

“I know.” I cut her off. “I didn’t have to, but I always will. If there is only one thing you understand about us, I will always do for you, Taryn.”

After she’s had a few sips of coffee and eaten one of the chocolates, I take a seat in the chair, mindlessly scrolling on my phone. If she needs to “sit in that for a while,” I will too.

After about fifteen minutes, she squeaks out a noise, and I lift my attention to her, where she’s tapping out something on her cell phone.

Without my having to ask, she informs me, “Jake texted. They got to his house, and he said Craig ordered them a pizza, but he pretty much hasn’t said anything else to them. ”

“How’s Maddie?”

“According to Jake, she won’t leave his side and it’s, quote ‘bugging the shit out of me.’”

I laugh. “Good.”

Tension visibly seeps out of her as she messages for another minute with her son, and when she finally raises her eyes to me, I smile. “Feeling better?”

She shrugs.

“What else can I do?”

Another shrug.

“I mean right now, duchess. Let me make you feel better right now. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. You have all the power here, so tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

I don’t think she understands at first, but I can see the change in her posture and the flicker of heat in her gaze when it clicks.

“You’re the boss,” I say. “And I’ll always take care of you. So tell me. What do you want?”

Taryn has been hurt by the men who were supposed to protect her, so it would make sense that she would want to be protected and cared for by me, but also given the opportunity to take that power back. Make up for all those times she was shouted down or ignored, deserted or made to feel helpless.

I want to give her the chance to take it back.

So I wait.

A minute passes as she stares at me, slowly unwinding from her curled-up position on the couch to sit with her feet on the floor, knees straight, and head held high. Like royalty.

Like the woman I fell in love with.

“Crawl,” she commands quietly, and I put my hand to my ear.

“Didn’t catch that, babe. Gotta speak louder.”

She fights a smile and raises her voice. “Crawl to me.”

I nod and sink to my hands and knees on the floor. My dick, obviously, is already hard because it’ll take my last breath for me not to want her. And even then, I’m not so sure St. Peter wouldn’t think I was a pervert, showing up to the pearly gates with a hard-on.

Now, though, I keep my eyes locked on her and crawl across the floor. She watches me, her breath hitching slightly as I reach the couch and place my palms on her knees. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, the pulse at the base of her neck fluttering rapidly.

“You want me to kiss you, duchess?” My voice is like a rip of paper through the silent living room.

She nods, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, and I lean in, pressing my mouth to hers. She tastes like the chocolate and coffee, my bittersweet girl, and I sink my hands into her hair, holding her as I ravish her mouth with my tongue, licking up every morsel of that innate flavor of Taryn.

When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathing heavy, and I rest my forehead against hers, waiting for her next command. I’m hers, completely, and I’ll do whatever she asks.

“Kiss my feet,” she whispers, and I grin against her mouth.

“Yes, ma’am.” I drop one last kiss to her lips before moving down her body. I slip off her socks, smoothing my thumbs over the arches, then raise my eyes to hers, once more holding her gaze as I worship her.

“Good boy,” she croons, and holy fuck , it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire miserable life. Nothing, and I mean nothing , feels as good as pleasing this woman.

I lift her left foot, pressing my lips to the top, then her toes, and down to the arch.

She’s ticklish and squirms, a soft laugh escaping her.

I smile, placing her left foot down to take her right one in my hands, following the same path, top, toes, arch.

The fit of her pants allows me to push the hem up to her knees, and I skate my lips over her calf and down her shin before sitting back on my heels, waiting for my next command.

She doesn’t let me down.

“Make love to me, Dante.”

Without a second’s hesitation, I stand and scoop her up into my arms. She wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, and I carry her to her bedroom, where I lay her down on the bed, my body covering hers.

I kiss her again, slow and deep, pouring all my feelings into it.

All my hope, my lust, my pride. Goddamn. So much pride.

I am proud of who she is, of what she’s overcome, and how she so willingly gives herself to me even when it’s hard.

I break away only to remove her clothes until she’s laid bare before me, and I take a moment simply to look at her.

Appreciate the beauty she no longer hides from me.

The line of her throat, the delicate slope of her collarbone and arms, the heaviness of her breasts, the roundness of her stomach, and the softness of her thighs, with the dark thatch of hair between them.

Perfection.

More than how physically attracted I am to her, it’s her strength, her resilience, her kindness that draw me in. She’s a goddess made human, and I’m honored that she’s chosen to be with me.

I swiftly shed my own clothes, tossing them to the side to crawl back onto the bed. I take my time, exploring every inch of her as if I don’t already know it. I reacquaint myself with the taste of her throat, the sensitivity of her nipples, the quiver of her belly.

I spread her legs, settling between them to dip my tongue into her most intimate place and kiss her clit.

I use my tongue and fingers to bring her to the edge, then back off, only to do it again.

Unlike the first time I edged her, she doesn’t plead with me to make it stop and let her come already, but she still pants and writhes the same way.

She’s all swaying hips and fisting hands, holding anything she can, the sheets, my hair, her tits.

When I feel it getting to be too much, her body tensing so hard she’s squeezing my head between her thighs, I give her what she requires and suck on that swollen pearl of her sex, curling my fingers inside her, stroking until she comes undone.

It’s beautiful how she breathes my name in a hoarse voice, her body convulsing, her orgasm washing over her in waves.

But I don’t give her time to recover. I’m much too greedy for that.

Instead, I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth then use it to hold her leg up and slide inside the sweetest place I’ve ever known to be home.

Her neck arches as I fill her completely, and I know it won’t be long until she’s coming again.

“Look at me, duchess. ”

She does, eyes heavy lidded and glazed with lust.

We stay connected like this, physically and emotionally. I can feel her heart beat, see the things I wish she’d say out loud in her eyes. This isn’t just sex; it’s making love .

There is no denying what we have anymore.

And with every stroke, I pray that she’ll open herself up to me. Allow herself to be loved. Love me in return.

My own orgasm builds, tingling in my limbs, a delicious burn in my lower back and balls.

Because I know she likes it, I spit on my fingers then reach between us to find her clit.

In no time at all, she comes again, her body clenching around mine, her nails digging into my back.

I follow her over the peak and collapse on top of her, muscles spent, my heart in my throat.

The only thing that stops me from declaring myself is the shadow of the confrontation with her ex-husband still hanging over our heads. The first time I tell Taryn I love her, I want her to know it’s the truth and not something forced or fake to make her feel better.

I roll onto my side, and we lie together for a long time, her head on my bicep, my fingers stroking her side. We don’t speak because we don’t need to, but I know I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Taryn knows that she’s loved, that she’s cherished, that she’s mine.

Forever.