Submit and Surrender (33 page)

That was kind of misnomer, though. They’d both won. She just…it didn’t mean she wasn’t still scared, because she was, and it didn’t mean everything was perfect now, because it wasn’t. But it was inevitable. In that moment, she recognized that it was inevitable. She’d been like one of those lunatics raving against the weather, thinking she could fight it. Thinking she could fight herself.

Ford had known.

He kept saying that she was the one who showed up when things got tough, that she was the one who was there. He deserved to have her show up to this, too. Only she wasn’t sure how.

But she was sure of how she felt. And she was sure of what she wanted.

Carefully, wincing only slightly, she moved her arm until her hand rested on his, on top of her hip. She laced her fingers with his and felt him shift, even that little movement giving her a slight thrill, a slight pull toward that inevitability. She sighed, the sound loud in the darkness, and pulled his hand to her belly.

She felt him move, and this time it was because he’d begun to harden.

“Adra,” he said, his voice muffled in her hair.

“Please,” she said. Her voice was hoarse.

His hand expanded, the fingers spreading over the sensitive skin just above her sex, and she inhaled sharply.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said roughly.

Adra breathed heavily for a few seconds, in time with the pulsing pressure he’d started between her legs.

“It hurts every second you’re not touching me,” she said.

His fingers dug into her, and she moaned. She reached behind her, even though it forced her to twist, even though it hurt, just so she could grab him. Just so she could feel the full, heavy weight of his hardness in her hand.

There was a pause.

And then there was a rustling sound, her panties were being pulled to the side, and then he was pushing against her, his already big cock feeling even bigger with her legs in this position. She groaned as he pushed inside her, her fingers twisting in the sheets as her body stretched to accept him.

She was panting. Already, she was panting. It hurt, but she needed it so badly.

“Please,” she said.

His hand moved down her stomach and slid inside her underwear until his fingers found her clit, one on either side of the sensitive bud. And then he began to move.

Barely, at first, just rocking inside her, but after so long, and with his hand moving in time, it was enough to push her to the edge. Just the fullness of him inside her felt like coming home, felt like right, and made her want to scream.

Soon she was screaming.

Oh God, did she scream. Her first orgasm came quickly and tore through her with unexpected ferocity, the pain blossoming with pleasure as her body tensed up and pulled on her injured ribs. It
hurt
, but it was wonderful at the same time, and she tried to twist her neck back, her hand grasping for his face as he leaned over, just needing to kiss him, to see him…

“I do love you,” she said as he kissed her breathless. “I love you so much, I do…”

***

The next morning Adra woke up feeling…

Well, two things: sore, and certain.

Her ribs were pretty pissed off about her decision to have sex, but she could live with that. She was happy to live with that. It had been totally worth it.

And the rest of her knew that the rest of her life had started last night.

It was actually an incredibly calming, blissful feeling. She watched Ford get up, shower, and get dressed in this kind of haze of happiness. She was done fighting. She was still scared, and it might take a while for her to get over some of her hang ups, and some of them might never go away, but this man…

This man deserved everything she could give, and apparently he wouldn’t accept any thing else. Apparently he believed in her. He believed in her so much that she’d started to believe in herself.

And dammit, she was going to tell him that.

Somehow.

The thing was, he’d basically dazzled her in the time she’d spent recovering with him. Like, truly dazzled. Maybe it was her competitive instinct, but Adra wanted to dazzle him back. It was just that Ford had such a head start on her.

She smiled, watching him. He had no idea.

“What are you smiling about?” he said, toothbrush in hand.

“Nothing,” she said. She kept smiling.

“How are you feeling after last night?” Concern flashed across his face.

“If I told you I was sore, would that mean you wouldn’t do it again?” she asked.

Ford frowned, and got that you’ll-be-disciplined look. Adra wanted to see that more often.

“Are you sore?” he demanded. “Did it re-injure you?”

“It’s a good kind of sore,” she promised. “You’re gonna crack a joke about making me sore, aren’t you?”

Ford grinned. “I was thinking about it.”

Adra could feel the weight of what she wanted to do, of what she wanted to say, bear down on her. How did he make it look so easy? Sweeping her off her feet the way he always did?

She took a deep breath.

“Ford…”

“Hold on,” Ford said. “You’ve gotta get dressed.”

She was embarrassingly relieved for the distraction.

“What for?”

“Company.”

“Ford! Again? Seriously?”

“Move it or meet them in that get up,” Ford said, eying her up and down again. “Which means you better move it, because I don’t want anyone else looking at those legs.”

They held each other’s gaze, and Adra thought back to the times he’d told her that they belonged to each other. He’d been right, every single time.

And this time he was giving her space.

She had to take advantage of that.

“Yes, sir,” she said, and resolved to figure out how to tell him she would be his forever.

Turns out it was actually harder than she thought. By the time Ford had some omelets whipped up and the front door bell rang, she had approximately nothing. Zilch. No words. Being romantic was
hard
.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

“I got it!” Ford shouted.

“Ford,” she said, walking into the living room in her bare feet and her comfortable jeans, “is there really—“

She stopped short. There was a man in the living room.

“You are not Ford,” she said.

No, but he could be an alternate reality version of Ford. One with dark hair, so dark it had those almost blue highlights, and a five o’clock shadow at ten in the morning, and a general rakish kind of attitude, like he was always looking for some kind of angle. Other than that, he was the spitting image of Ford.

“Close,” the man said. Then he grinned. “Gavin Colson.”

“Colson?” Adra said, somewhat stupidly. “You’re his—”

“Brother, yes, ma’am,” Gavin said. “You must be Adra.”

“Ford,” Adra said absently. “Your brother is here.”

Then she realized that Ford had been the one to answer the door, and that he was already back in the kitchen. Maybe she was still a little stunned.

She knew Ford had brothers. A bunch of them, in fact. But she was under the impression they were kind of far flung, each of them off doing something wild or crazy. She had no idea one of them was actually nearby. Just…dropping in for brunch.

Ford’s brother.

“You’re really that surprised?” Ford asked, coming up behind her. “You’re about to go crazy, then.”

“Wait, what?”

Gavin gave that grin again, something that apparently ran in the family, and nodded his head. “I came into town for the wrap party. I would have introduced myself, but I got distracted, and you seemed busy, and then, well, I got busy.”

Adra’s mind clicked into overdrive. She hadn’t though about the wrap party itself much at all; she’d been so focused on Ford. But now she remembered that conversation with Olivia Cress, and Olivia’s blush when she admitted, sort of, that she’d met someone new.

She smiled. “I bet I know what kind of busy,” she said.

Gavin’s face lit up. “You’d bet on it?”

“Don’t,” Ford interrupted. “He’s a professional gambler.”

“I
used
to be a professional gambler,” Gavin said, mock offended. “Now I’m a venture capitalist.”

“How’s that different from professional gambling, again?” Ford asked.

“It’s classier.”

Adra looked between the two brothers and narrowed her eyes. “I’d still win,” she said.

Gavin shook his head, smiling. “Well done, Ford.”

“I know it.”

“So you want me to show her what I found?”

Adra was suddenly less sure of herself. “Ford, what did you do? Why am I about to go crazy?”

Ford put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her on the forehead. Then he turned to his brother.

“He’s in the car?”

“The foyer.”

“Jesus, bring him in.”

Adra couldn’t take her eyes away from Ford. She suddenly knew what was coming, but it seemed like too much. Like too much good. She couldn’t take her eyes away from Ford, and she couldn’t stop them from filling up with tears.

When he spoke, his voice was so sad, and hesitant, and so damn sorry, and she was just so glad to hear it.

“Adra?”

She turned around, and there he was. Charlie.

“Oh, goddamn you, Charlie,” she said, wiping away the tears, and went to wrap her brother in as much of a hug as she could manage. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you with—”

“Because Gavin told me I was screwing up your life, too, and we needed to stop here on the way down,” Charlie said. “And Nicole agreed.”

Gently he peeled Adra off of him, and she looked up at him. What she saw there both broke her heart and gave her hope at the same time.

He had that look she remembered so well from when they were kids. That determined look he got whenever he felt like he needed to get it together because their parents couldn’t. Whenever he felt like she needed protecting. He had a beard and kind of a belly and he was a big, huge guy now, but inside…

He was her brother.

“I fucked up,” Charlie said.

“You really, really did,” she said. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I won’t.”

“Charlie…”

“I was scared,” Charlie said. “I panicked. But I’m going to do whatever I need to do to make it right. I just thought that Nic and the kids were better off without me—”

“Jesus, Charlie.”

“I know I’m screwed up,” he said. “I’m going to fix it.”

“How?”

“Work at it, I guess.”

“Your ass is going to therapy,” Ford said from behind her.

Adra almost burst out laughing.

“Charlie,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t argue with him.”

“Argue with the guy who had me delivered like a pizza?” Charlie said, looking over her shoulder at Ford. “Yeah, no thanks. I just wanted to say I was sorry, Adra. It’s not an excuse, but after a while, you just start thinking…”

“You deserve it,” she finished for him.

Charlie looked at her.

“I wish you hadn’t been able to answer that.”

She shrugged, and smiled up at her big brother. “I’m getting over it.”

“I’ve gotta get back to Nic and the kids,” Charlie said, smiling softly back at her. He knew he had a long road ahead of him, but at least he was on it now.

“You called them, right? They know—”

“I called them,” Charlie said. “You don’t have to worry anymore. I promise.”

“Fat chance,” Adra whispered.

She watched her brother walk away in another kind of daze. If she said goodbye—or thank you—to Gavin, she was totally unaware of it, though she bet she’d have time to fix that later. She just couldn’t believe that he’d found her brother.

And she would have expected to start crying soon after that, except the opposite happened. Ford came around took her elbow, his touch light, careful, like he thought she might break down. And instead she turned to him and wrapped her arms around him with a ferocity she rarely let show.

“Hey, doesn’t that hurt?” he asked her.

It did. It also didn’t matter.

“I don’t care,” she said.

“Adra—”

“No,” she said, pulling slightly away. “No, let me do it. Please, let me talk. I’ve been trying to figure out all morning how to say it, and then you go and
get my brother
, and I just… Don’t talk Ford, ok?”

He had a slight smile on his face as he slipped his hand up her neck to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek.

“Ok,” he said.

Adra tried to find the words.

She thought about how Charlie had been just as scared as she had been, but how in Charlie, she could see it for what is was. Fear wasn’t bad; it was just a signal, telling you to pay attention. Telling you that something was important, that it was worthwhile. That it was real.