26. CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 26

“Lay me down and kiss me deeply, show me everything I missed”

The Heart Is a Muscle – Gang of Youths

Nathalie

“ W here are we going?” Declan asks as I drag him out of the house under the cover of darkness.

“Be quiet,” I hiss, “or you’ll wake up Deon, and this will be for nothing.”

We tiptoe to his car parked on the road.

“How did you sneak out of bed without him noticing?”

“I stuffed some pillows in a sweatshirt and ran.”

Every time I tried to slink out of bed, Deon dragged me closer, caging me in his embrace. On one attempt, he slung his leg over mine, and I had to wait until he was snoring again to try to wiggle out of his grip.

He’s my backpack when I'm asleep. I love it, except when I’m attempting to sneak out to surprise him. Then it’s cumbersome.

Our rules are broken at night, but I’ve never said anything because he can’t control what he does in his sleep, the same way I can’t control how deeply I love him.

Declan snickers as we drive toward Maren’s house to pick up the food hiding in her fridge. There’s no way I could have pulled this off without her or Sawyer.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Declan asks, slamming the breaks until we're sitting idle in the middle of Deon’s gated neighborhood.

“Today is Deon’s birthday and I planned something for him,” I admit, unable to conceal my blush. The only reason I’m able to pull this off is because the 26 th lands on a Tuesday and they have a home game this week.

I explain my plan as Declan drives, and when we park, he grabs my bicep, halting my escape.

“Have you told him you love him?” he asks and my muscles seize. I slip out of the car to escape his questioning, but he’s hot on my heels. “Nathalie,” he presses, stopping me.

“No.” I rip my arm away. “I’m not going to tell him and neither are you,” I say pointedly, stomping toward the door.

“Why are you being so—”

“So what ?” I know he’s going to call me stubborn or hard-headed, but I’m not. What I am is logical and realistic. “Protective of my heart?” I spit, my anger and sadness a physical thing in my chest.

The necklace he gifted me burns against my chest. Arwen’s Evenstar. He gave it to me as a kind gesture, but all I see is her confession, her choice to love him instead of her immortality.

It’s a declaration of love, and my fake boyfriend gave it to me.

Declan’s eyes widen in shock and regret, but he doubles down.

“You don’t know how he feels. What if you could have something real?”

I shake my head, gnawing on my lip so aggressively it nearly bleeds.

“He made it clear what this is: Just sex. It’s not his fault I fell in love with him, and I will not burden him with that knowledge. Not even if the rules are broken.”

“But Nathalie—”

“ No.” Now I’m fucking pleading with Declan to let this go. “How many times has he said he doesn’t date? On how many occasions has he made it clear he doesn’t want a relationship?”

Declan stands silent in Maren and Jack’s driveway. He knows the answers to my questions. It’s why he looks away.

“Exactly,” I continue. “There’s been no sign he wants anything different, nor has he told me he wants more. Touching me and fucking me is not the same as loving me .” My voice cracks with the harsh reality. “I am not saying anything, and that’s the end of it.”

I turn to find Maren and Jack standing on the porch, bundled in jackets, witnesses to our argument. There’s a melancholic look on Maren’s face, and Jack looks stunned as I slip past and into the house.

I’m halfway into the kitchen when I’m ripped from behind and dragged into an office. I’m ready to scream at Declan when Maren’s distinctive citrus perfume hits my nostrils as her body collides with mine in a brutal hug.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you hugging me?” I ask, in awe and disbelief.

Her laugh is quiet. “You looked like you needed one. ”

“I do,” I admit, tears brimming in my eyes. “Today was supposed to be fun, not sad.”

Her hand swipes along my back in the most comforting hug I’ve ever received from Maren.

“Don’t let it get in the way of what you have planned.” She taps my head. “For the plot, remember?”

“For the plot.”

If nothing else, I can remember this day fondly. I’m doing this because I love him and I want to celebrate with him. It doesn’t matter if he loves me back or knows how I feel, it doesn’t change the intent.

I need to focus on that.

Maren and I return to the kitchen, where Jack and Declan are shoving containers into reusable bags. Declan smiles sheepishly when I reach him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I care about you. I want you to be happy.” My head falls on his shoulder. “We’re good?” he asks.

“You’re family,” I say, “One small fight in a driveway is essentially initiation.”

“It’s not my business,” Jack starts, and I give him a pointed look. He responds with one of his own. “You saw my whole ass. I think that warrants my opinion on the matter.”

I click my tongue but nod. He’s got me there.

“Proceed.”

“I don’t think Deon has been loved the way he deserves to be loved.” His eyes dart to his wife and his gaze softens. “I had to prove to Maren my love was not fickle or conditional. It’s possible Deon needs the same.”

Maren grazes his arm, the love swimming in her eyes so powerful it feels like a punch to the gut. She nods in agreement with Jack’s statement and I plaster on a placating smile. “I’ll think about that.”

I’ve made up my mind, but they’re trying to help and I love them for that.

“Now, I’d love to stay and chat,” I say sarcastically, “but I’m on a strict timeline, and we have to start by eight, or this plan is shot.”

“Deon,” I whisper, gently pushing his torso to wake him up. He groans, arm flying out and patting the bed. He hits Gordie, who releases a feral cry before launching from the bed.

That did not win Deon any brownie points with Gordie.

“I need you to wake up.” I try to shove him again, but he begins to snore. I go for a more aggressive approach, crawling on top of his body and poking his forehead. “We have things to do.”

“Things?” Deon mumbles, cracking open an eye.

My smile is deranged as I nod frantically.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Deon’s sleepy eyes narrow, but he slides out of bed and blindly follows as I lead him into The Lair . I swing the door open and spin around, wanting to watch Deon’s reaction.

While he showered last night, I tiptoed into the room and began decorating. Then I started arranging, and…my masterpiece was born. Plates of food, all themed with tags and descriptions, are laid out on the coffee table.

“What is all of this?” Deon slowly walks into the room, stepping around the streamers I taped to the ceiling.

He rubs his eyes, then looks again. He’s so confused, I can’t help but giggle. It’s so cute.

“Happy birthday!” I yell, clenching my fists at my side to contain my excitement. Weeks of planning and sneaking around are worth the look of awe on Deon’s face as he reads the tags I created lying on the table.

First Breakfast.

Second Breakfast.

Elevensies.

Luncheon.

Supper.

Afternoon Tea.

Dinner.

Supper.

“Each tag correlates to a tray of food tailored to a specific time during one of the three movies. Extended edition, of course. The food for the afternoon and evening is in the fridge,” I say, needing to fill the silence as Deon creeps around the space. “We need to start the first movie at eight, or else we will be behind schedule.”

“Nathalie, what is all this?”

Maybe I should have given him more time to wake up because it seems pretty clear. It’s to celebrate his birthday in the way he would want. A quiet space watching Lord of the Rings while eating all the food he enjoys.

“Didn’t you see the sign?” I point at the door. No admittance except on party business. “This is your party. You, me, and Gordie watching Orlando Bloom do his thing while we gorge ourselves on food.”

Deon stands in the center of the room, slowly spinning and I anxiously wait, desperate to know what he’s thinking. Does he hate it? Did he already have plans?

When he faces me again, something swimming in his gaze I’ve never seen before and it threatens to bring me to my knees. Deon gulps, hand shaking slightly when he whispers, “I love it.”

Before I can comprehend what’s happening, Deon’s smashing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. I ravish his mouth as I attempt to crawl up his body. Deon’s hands smooth down my ass and hike me into the air and I wrap my arms around his neck.

“You didn’t say artichoke,” I mumble, but he steals the complaint with another kiss.

“You did,” he responds, a cocky smile on his lips as he leads us to the couch.

“The schedule,” I moan.

“Fuck the schedule,” he responds, throwing me onto the cushions and dropping to his knees. My stomach bottoms out, my core clenching as he rips the clothes from my body, leaving me bare before him.

“Oh, god!” My hands whip out to clutch onto the pillow as his tongue slides against my slit teasingly.

My head spins as he devours me.

The sudden zap of pleasure strikes me in the chest and I’m flying off the handle as Deon slides a finger inside me, timing his movements with his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” I moan as his tongue flicks against my clit, sending electrical shocks along my skin.

“I don’t plan on it,” he mumbles against my skin as he slides another finger with the first. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he says, adding a third finger .

The stretch begins to sting when his tongue swirls around my clit and my core clenches, the tingles of an orgasm slowly beginning to build, brick by brick. I nearly skyrocket off the couch when he sucks my clit between his lips.

“ Shit .” It’s the only word left in my brain as he teases me, reducing his pace until I’m wreathing on the couch.

“I want to hear you beg,” he demands, placing soft kisses against my inner thigh, torturously close to where I want him. My hands latch onto his head, attempting to move him, but he shakes me off.

I immediately cave.

“ Please .”

Like a man starved, Deon devours me and I hold on for dear life as he licks and nips. “Up,” I say vaguely, hoping he understands the instruction.

I’m close but I need more.

Deon slides his tongue north and his free hand slides across my torso, taking my nipple between his fingers, pulling and twisting the pebbled bud.

“It’s happening,” I moan, shocked every time I manage to orgasm with Deon. Maybe it's the safety of knowing he’ll listen to what I need. My vision blasts with white light as pleasure curls down my spine, blossoming from my chest to my limbs.

My legs begin to spasm as Deon slides his tongue up my slit one last time.

“Hearing you come is the most beautiful sound in the world,” he says as he kisses me, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue.

“I sound like a pterodactyl.” Deon tips his head back in laughter and I kiss the column of his neck.

“A sexy pterodactyl.” My hands slide down his torso, pushing at the band of his shorts. His gaze is soft as he peers down, but it quickly glazes over with lust when I pull his dick out of his shorts and pump him a few times. “I always liked Brontosaurus, though.”

“We can talk about dinosaurs after you fuck me silly.”

Deon kicks out of his shorts and his palm splays against my stomach, pushing me back to lay on the couch cushion. Palming himself, his abs ripple as he leans down, coating himself with the slickness from my orgasm.

He drags his dick up and down teasingly and as he notches himself at my entrance, the haze clears.

“Wait.” I push against his shoulders and he stumbles back. Oops, that was harder than I wanted.

His eyes flicker. “Are you okay? Did you change your mind?”

“I-I’m not on birth control.” I stare down at his massive erection. I'm still not confident it will fit, even if it did last time. I’m confident that was a fluke. He frowns as he jerks in his hand.

“Fuck.” Deon rises from the couch. He swipes a hand over his face, eyes twinkling with humor. Deon cracks the door open, head peeking left and right through the sliver of space. His ass tightens as his whole head pops into the hallway.

“What are you doing?”

I lift onto my knees to lean over the couch to watch him. He spins around with a goofy, crooked smile on his face. My eyes drop to his erection bobbing against his torso and my core bottoms out. “I’m gonna make a run for it.”

“ What?” I fly off the couch to block the door. “What if Declan sees you?”

“He’s seen me naked.” Deon shrugs, but his gaze is fixed on my breasts.

“Hey!” I snap my fingers, “Eyes up here.” He blushes and I bite back a smile. “You can’t just sprint naked to your room for a condom.”

“I can and I’m going to.”

Before I can speak, Deon picks me off the ground, drops me to the side, and sprints out the door. I slam the door shut in case Declan is in the living room and hold my breath with my ear to the door, listening to sounds.

Seconds tick by, it grows eerily quiet, and my confidence Deon is making it through the house unseen grows.

That is until I hear a blood-curdling shriek, followed quickly by Declan’s distinctive voice.

“Why the fuck are you running around naked?!”

The door flies open and Deon launches into the room, eyes frantic. His leg darts out to kick the door shut and then he’s stalking in my direction, a sleeve of condoms dangling in his grip.

Faintly, I hear, “I’m gonna…go somewhere that isn’t here,” followed by the distinct sound of the front door slamming shut.

Deon’s gaze darkens as he stops inches away, waving the condoms in front of my face.

“These cost me my dignity with Declan.” His chest presses against mine, erection digging into the soft flesh of my stomach. I drag my fingertips along the shaft and Deon groans. “Lean over the couch, Nathalie.”

I fold over the edge of the couch, using the armrest for stability as the sound of foil tearing fills the air. Goosebumps pebble my flesh as I wait in anticipation. His palm drags down my spine, the calluses rough against my skin.

Deon’s cock slides along my entrance, coating the condom. “Tell me if you need to slow down,” he demands, placing a kiss on my shoulder before nudging his hips forward.

The stretch burns into fierce pleasure as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush against my ass. His hand winds around my loose hair, twisting it around his fist and pulling me against his chest.

My breasts bounce, moans tumbling from my lips as Deon hits the deepest parts inside of me, the angle allowing him to slide deeper on every thrust.

Deon slows his movements, tugging on my hair so my neck is exposed. He places kisses, soft and intimate, against the column of my neck.

“I want to see you,” I whisper. I want him to see how much I love him even if I don’t tell him.

Deon slips out and lifts me into the air, guiding us to the couch, leaning over me as he slides back in, green eyes locked with mine as his golden chain dangles and tears begin to build in my eyes.

A crescendo of emotions builds, a snowball racing down a hill, growing larger and more volatile until the tears are streaming down my cheeks and Deon is kissing them away, one by one.

“Deon,” I croak, grabbing onto his shoulders as his thrusts turn languid. My mind screams with desperation to tell him I love him—to tell him anything, really—except all my words fall short.

But when Deon murmurs, “You brought me back to life,” I know those are the words I’m missing.

This is what life with someone you love looks like.

Most days are boring and plain, but it’s the person I’m with—it’s Deon—who brings life and bright, undiluted happiness into the mundane. His affection has never been loud. He’s shown it on quiet nights on the couch, letting me warm my toes with his calves. It’s shown in bags of period products beneath the sink and a dozen macarons every week.

He may not love me, but I do believe he’s grown to care for me, and in that knowledge, there’s comfort. Deon may not love me in the way I love him, but I matter to him.

Deon slides deep and stars burst against my vision.

“I’m close,” Deon says, pace quickening as he pistons into me, lifting my thighs to shift the angle. His groans fill the air as his cock pulses, his orgasm taking over as his movements grow erratic.

Deon’s movements slow and his eyes meet mine, a gorgeous, heart-stopping smile takes over his face. He pulls out, disposing of the condom and I sneak into the bathroom across the hall, knowing Declan left.

When I come back, Deon is clothed, fiddling with the remote on the couch.

Our eyes lock and the breath is knocked from my lungs.

I’ve learned to dissect the emotions on Deon’s face, digging to find any hint, but the openness on his features now is jarring.

“No one has ever done anything like this for me,” he admits and my heart clenches. “This means more to me than you’ll ever know.” His finger slips into my hair and he drags me into a slow, sensual kiss. “I’ll never forget this,” he whispers against my lips. “Thank you.”

I nod, emotion clogging my throat when he kisses my forehead, bulldozing over our rule.

I should have banned forehead kisses. They’re way too intimate for moments when you’re trying to rein in your feelings.

A large, aggressive meow, followed by scratching, breaks the moment, and I pop up .

“It’s not a celebration without Gordie!” I dart to the door, sweeping Gordie into my arms. “Tell Daddy ‘Happy Birthday’,” I say, hovering Gordie over Deon, whose eyes widen in lust, then fear.

“Please do not refer to me as ‘Daddy’ when talking to my demon cat.” He pops off the couch, widening the space. “Gordie and I cohabitate. I feed him and he is kind enough not to murder me in my sleep.”

I bark out a laugh, pulling Gordie tighter. Deon wanders to the table of food, piling his plate. “I built up an appetite,” he says with a wink and I groan. “No? That didn’t do it for you?”

Dropping Gordie, I saddle up next to him, slapping his ass.

“I’ll let that horrible joke slide because it’s your birthday, but it was awful.”

Deon’s laughter is infectious as we settle into the couch, plates of themed food—albeit slightly cold—sitting in front of us. I snatch the remote, searching for The Fellowship of the Ring .

As the movie starts, I lean into Deon’s side, soaking in the moment.

It might not be forever, but right now is pretty great.