Page 46

Hailey

“You okay?” Max asks when he picks up the phone, snow battering my windshield.

“I’m fine, but I’m stuck at the base of your driveway.”

“I’ll be out in a second.”

The neighborhood is aglow with Christmas lights reflecting against a fresh foot of snow. I’ve just white-knuckled it home from my first final of the semester; the drive was more nerve-wracking than the test itself since I’m a first-year student taking mostly electives.

Max emerges in a sweatshirt and winter boots, no gloves in sight, and I scoff. It’s not as if I needed an urgent rescue. He waves and jogs to the back of the car. I tap the gas as I feel him push, just enough to get me into the garage .

Climbing out, I gather my textbooks. Max grabs my waist and pulls me in for a kiss. I moan, caught between the intimacy and much-needed warmth in this winter apocalypse.

“I was worried about you,” he murmurs. “I’m going to beat the hell out of whoever schedules finals during a snowstorm.”

I pull away, meeting his eyes. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“Kinda.” He shrugs.

“Max, I want to earn this degree like a normal person, not through broken kneecaps.”

He takes my books. “You always focus on the kneecaps, but I’m more into...”

“Okay, stop.” I laugh, heading inside. I’m sure he was about to say something light, not whatever he actually does to collect money from people. It should bother me more, but knowing he mostly targets rich gambling addicts, I can live with it.

Inside, Rosie jumps around in tight circles, full of energy. I’m guessing Max couldn’t give her all her walks today with the snow.

He slams my history books on the counter, pressing me against it, his chest to my back. “I missed you today,” he whispers. “Snowed in, stuck here alone, thinking about you.”

His hand trails up my shirt as I feel him grow hard.

“I wish I could have stayed, too. Winter break can’t come soon enough.”

He slaps my ass through my leggings, kissing my neck. I lean into him, moaning. “I’ve got a special plan to help you unwind from that test,” he says .

“Oh? What’s that?” I feign innocence.

He turns me around, stripping off my sweater, long-sleeved undershirt, cami, then my bra. “Jesus, how many layers are you wearing?”

“It’s freezing out!” I defend myself. The cami probably wasn’t necessary but finals week left my brain scrambled.

He lifts me onto the counter, spreading my legs to move closer. His tongue circles a nipple, then gently bites. I yelp, feeling myself become wet. “That’s what you get for not wearing something with easy access,” he growls.

“Are you going to punish me more for that?” I rock my hips.

Eyebrows raised and eyelids drooping, he picks me up, wrapping my legs around him as he carries me upstairs.

In the bedroom, he tosses me on the bed, yanking off my leggings and underwear. I lift my ass a few inches for him to spank it. I hear his clothes hit the floor. “Did you ace that exam today?” he asks as I rub against his hardness.

“Yes,” I whimper.

“Good girl,” he whispers. The tip of his cock glides around my entrance. “You’re such a slut for me. Ready for this cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whimper again.

He yanks my hips closer to the edge of the bed. I cry out in pleasure, feeling myself stretch around him.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he mutters, going slow since we haven’t had much foreplay. “So wet for me.”

He thrusts slowly, too slowly. “Harder,” I moan .

He smacks my ass. “You think you can order me around?” He pulls out, flipping me onto my back. Dropping to his knees, his face between my legs, he adds, “You have to come before I fuck you harder.”

His tongue slides up my wet slit, teasing my clit. All day at the library, I’d struggled not to daydream about this. My back arches and my thighs clamp around his head as I near finishing.

Two fingers slide into me, stroking my g-spot. A deep moan escapes me; it doesn’t sound feminine, but I can’t help it as pressure builds.

His thumb finds my clit, flicking it until my pussy clamps on his fingers and my body writhes in ecstasy.

He climbs on top of me, guides my ankles to his shoulders, and drives into me again, not holding back this time.

He smacks my breast, leaving his hand there until his cock spasms inside me.

I moan, exhausted from my orgasm. He pulls out, helping me toward the pillows.

My head rests on his chest as he catches his breath.

I wipe sweat from his hairline and plant a kiss on his lips. He smiles, running his strong hands up and down my body.

Relaxing, my eyes droop into a half-sleep, worn out from sex and studying all day.

I think about how happy I’ve been these past few months, spending time with Max and his family.

Busy with university classes but not abusively so, unlike life in the cult.

No one stalking or bothering me, just a semblance of normalcy—even if my boyfriend is mafia-connected .

I sit up slightly, gazing into his warm brown eyes. He strokes my cheek, and I feel a glow in my chest so overwhelming I could cry. “I’m so happy spending my life with you,” I say.

His face lights up, and he rolls on top of me, kissing me deeply. “Do you know your ring size?”

I bite my lip, tears of happiness threatening. I shake my head.

“Maybe when the snow melts, we’ll figure it out? I know I said we’d wait at least a year, but I don’t see my feelings changing for you. Ever.”

“Me too.” I wrap my legs around him, pulling him close. I can feel his love in the way he kisses me, like we were made for each other—a perfect fit.

“I love you so much, Hailey.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses me again, stroking my hair. “I should tell you,” he whispers, “your mom called again. Wondering about you.”

“Oh?” I nestle into him. For months, I’ve avoided thinking about her, Dad, or my past. With Christmas looming, leaving her alone, even in the apartment Max arranged, feels sad.

“She’s persistent enough that I’m wondering if we should invite her over. You’ve every right to be angry, but there’s a tone in her voice that makes me want to help. Probably reminds me of you.”

“That’s fine.” I prop myself on my elbow. “I knew this would have to happen eventually, and I feel ready now.”

“You sure?” he asks, twirling my hair.

“Yeah. I think I’m sure. ”

“You think?” he teases. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“I said I’m sure!” I playfully slap his chest.

He laughs, and I snuggle back against him. “I’ll call her and let her know. I can make something nice for dinner.” He kisses my head, murmuring, “Hailey Calabrese” to himself.

The wind howls outside as he tosses blankets over us to stay warm now that we’re no longer in motion. The commute to school was awful, as was the test, but if all my days end like this, I’m lucky.

“I got some champagne for the holidays,” he says. “But maybe we should crack it open tonight by the fire. To celebrate.”

I nod as he hurries out to prepare drinks.

Sometimes, I feel I don’t deserve this happiness and comfort.

But I’ve learned the cult taught me misery was virtue.

If life was easy, I was doing something wrong, life’s only purpose was serving VOE—but that’s bullshit.

I know what matters to me now: my happiness, my well-being, and the man who plans to propose to me soon.

The man who loves me enough to risk his family’s wrath.

The man who saved me when I had no other hope.

THE END

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