Speak of the Devil – Westcott Family Read Online S.L. Scott

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
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I feel sick, sitting back and covering my stomach with my arms.

He says, “This is what guided me to a new life.” I can only look at it before my eyes dare to look into his again. “A freckle on her back was my North Star. I’d look at it to tide me over until I could return to her again.”

Redirecting my gaze to the water, his words sting, my heart barely repaired before broken again.

Shane reaches for my hand, but I slide away from him so he can’t reach me from his chair. “Don’t be like that, Cat.”

“Like what?” I shoot a glare in his direction. “Like you’re talking about the love of your life, so much so that she’s immortalized in a tattoo that covers your entire forearm while being here with me? Is that what you don’t want me to react to?” I sit forward on the edge of the chair and drop my head in my hands. “What am I doing?”

“Look at me.” His voice is so even, so smooth that the command feels like it was my idea even though it was his.

I look, but then stand, dropping the blanket in the chair. “And you made me be the one to ask about it.” I shake my head, keeping my eyes on the lake and him at my back. Crossing my arms over my chest, I say, “You could have just told me you were in love with her.” I look over my shoulder, feeling worse than the first time we broke up. It figures. “And to think, you could be here with her.”

“I am.” His low voice is unwavering.

His answer has me questioning what I said though. Running the words through my head, think . . . could be . . . here with her. He said I am. I am here with her. I am with her. The full picture comes into focus. I turn around and stare at him. “What are you saying, Shane?”

Taking hold of my hand, he’s fast, pulling me into his lap before I can protest. He knows I won’t. My legs fly out from under me as I land hard in his lap. His arms wrap me in a vice grip that won’t loosen for me to escape.

“I’m saying that this, right here,” he replies, tapping the dot on the design. He then runs a warm hand over my sweatshirt and circles a space on my back. “Is this. My North Star, my guide through the hard times when we were apart, a reminder that lives on my skin that nothing is impossible if you love them enough. I needed something of you with me always.”

Tears rush the corners of my eyes as I stare at his arm and into his eyes again. “This is me?”

Caressing my cheek, he says, “I stayed away for me, but I came back for you.”

There’s no way for me to keep the tears at bay. They spill over, running down my cheeks and over my lips. The salty water reminds me of the beach and how we should have been so much more after that bonfire. I kiss him. Tired of taking things slow, I kiss him in need and desire, in loyalty to this man who has given me everything I could ever ask for—unconditional and everlasting love. “I love you.” I kiss his lips. “I love you.” Lowering to his chin, I place one there as well. “I love you.” Leaning my head against his, I say, “I love you, Shane Faris. I always have.”

That’s the last time we go slow. Why bother when it feels this good to be in love?

He stands with me scooped in his arms. Our lips melding, our tongues caressing, our body raw with need. I’m set down but held by the comfort of his arms around me. Pressed to the inside of the front door, he says, “I’ve loved you since that bonfire. I came back from tour to tell you I didn’t fuck around on the road. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“And I was gone . . .” I feel sick all over again. Knowing I could have had a life with him, maybe a family, that I wouldn’t have been so alone. It’s gutting.

“We weren’t meant to be together then.”

Through a stifled sniffle, I ask, “We’re meant to be this time?”

“I’m never letting go, Cat. Not again.” He kisses me so hard that I melt to the wood behind me.

Throwing my arms around him, I kiss him right back, and whisper, “Make love to me, Shane.”

29

Shane

“Oh no, the lamp!” Her ass bumped into it, tipping it over onto the couch.

We probably should have left some lights on before we went to sit by the lake. I couldn’t have predicted we’d go from slow to not-inside-her-soon-enough in point two seconds. But that’s where we’ve ended up.



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