Chapter 25

25

Shelby

Faust turns the water off.

I can stand under the hot water all night with Faust's hands all over me.

For the most part…

My legs do feel wobbly. My inner thighs ache. I actually ache between my legs too. Having someone like Faust going… and going …

He fucked me twice.

He came twice.

Me?

I stopped counting… it just kept happening.

Faust steps out of the shower and gets me a towel.

I turn, step back and out of the shower and feel Faust wrap the towel around me. For a second I imagine him hugging me. Holding me. I imagine him whispering in my ear.

Instead, he's gone.

I look over my shoulder to see him collecting his clothes from the bathroom floor.

"Faust?" I whisper.

"Get some sleep, sweetie," he says. "It's been a long day and night. Appreciate that you were at the game with our son."

"Of course, Faust. I need you to know that I…"

My voice trails off as Faust just walks away.

He's leaving. He's gone. He's done with me.

I hug myself and I take a deep breath.

I'm not sure what this exactly means.

Is this our relationship ?

Slightly act like a family? He puts our son to bed?

Then we… mess around?

The first time he carried me to my bedroom at my old apartment and went down on me. The second time I went down on him on the couch.

Third time was before the game… and I left.

Now this time… taking me in the shower. Twice.

Fucking me. Kissing me. Holding me. Commanding me.

And now he's just gone.

Well, gone next door. To his apartment.

Talk about mixed up, weird feelings right now. My body feels amazing from what Faust does with his hands, mouth, and cock. But my heart feels horrendous.

It's a deep feeling. Like the past and present hitting together hard.

Then of course in the mix of that?

Oakley.

Our son.

The life we created.

Whether we meant to do so or not did not matter then, nor does it matter now.

I put on panties and an oversized hoodie.

I should get some sleep but I know I won't be able to.

It's dark. Quiet. It's past midnight.

Everything is calm.

It sort of feels like the perfect time to write a vampire romance novel.

My heart doesn't want to, but there's a fire of anger hitting me right now.

I have this idea for a scene. Where the female lead - Rose - realizes her body and her blood is maybe more powerful than the vampire's strength and passion.

My vampire is named Joe.

While it's not the sexiest vampire name in the world, it's what came to mind and I'm using it for now. For me personally, I love when a vampire has a normal name like that. Just a simple, basic name, yet the guy is big and mean and wants to drink blood…

Oh, did I fail to mention his favorite spot to ‘nibble' at on Rose is her inner thighs…?

I look over my shoulder to the empty bed.

Is there a part of me that wishes and wants Faust to be there?

Duh.

Obviously that's not an option.

"Fuck him," I whisper.

My heart thumps and races.

I swallow hard.

That's right…

"Fuck. Him."

I stand up and my legs are still wobbly.

I don't want to give credit to Faust for that, so I give it to myself. My body knows how to enjoy sex and knows how to enjoy a very deep, thorough orgasm.

And now I'm going to enjoy writing the book that's going to allow me to buy my dream house. For myself. And for my son.

Tonight isn't about steamy vampire sex.

Tonight is about… power.

I make a cup of tea and sit down at the dining room table.

I'm engulfed by the soft glow of my laptop screen.

The tea is too hot to sip so I just jump right into typing.

I type.

And I type.

My back is straight, I forget to blink, my fingers move as though they are working on their own.

The darker and angrier I make this book the better I feel.

For all I know, maybe Faust's great cock is the muse I need.

Show up. Fuck me. Then leave me.

By the time I decide to take a second or two of a break, the tea is cold.

I save what I've written, attach it to an email and send it off to my agent.

She'll be happy to see an email waiting for her when she wakes up.

I type some more.

I receive a reply from my agent.

She's burning the midnight oil too it seems.

THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR! KEEP THIS GOING! I'M GOING TO SEND THESE PAGES OFF TO THE EDITOR TO SHOW THAT YOU ARE KICKING ASS!

I smile. I feel seen and validated.

A little bit more typing and I realize I'm at a point in the book where something has to give. They need to talk. They need to figure out what they want.

I question if maybe they just need to fuck each other.

No biting. No fangs. No blood.

Just…

My hands jump from the keyboard.

I'm realizing that they need to figure this out. This isn't just about crazy hot vampire sex any longer. This is about feelings. Someone needs to make a move. But that move means… sex with emotion. With heart. With soul.

They need to make love.

I'm not sure I'm ready to type that just yet.

I put my head down on the table to think it over.

I shut my eyes…

… to think…

A hand touches my shoulder and I'm pulled out of a dream I instantly can't remember. The line of sleep and awake is blurred and confusion sweeps over me.

"Let me get you into your bed, sweetie," Faust's deep voice says.

I blink a few times and realize it's daylight out.

My neck hurts.

I obviously fell asleep.

"Oakley," I whisper. "Where's Oakley?"

"In his room," Faust says. "He's fine."

"I was typing… what time…"

"I was going to make some coffee and wait for you to get up. I haven't slept much."

"I couldn't sleep so I worked on my book."

"You put yourself to sleep with your own book? I hope that's not a bad sign."

"Fuck you," I groan.

Faust grabs for me and he easily lifts me up from the chair.

I'm definitely capable of walking, but let's be honest here, if a six-foot-six hockey goalie made of muscle that oozed sexual desire wanted to carry you to your bed, what would you do or say?

Exactly.

I enjoy the handful of seconds it takes for Faust to carry me to my bed.

He places me down, then just kind of leaves me there.

Yes, I am sexually greedy now. I want him to realize I'm wearing nothing but a hoodie and panties. I want him to take advantage of it.

It's obvious he's not going to do that though. Not this time. Maybe not ever. Or maybe he just wants to touch me when it's right for him.

I don't know anymore if he's using me or punishing me.

He stands at the edge of my bed, this gigantic, hunky figure.

"I'm taking Oakley with me for the day," he says.

My heart skips a beat.

"I'm not asking either. He's my son."

"He's our son, Faust," I say.

"And our son is spending the day with his father."

"Okay. That's a good thing, Faust. I'm not… I'm not the bad guy here."

The words exit in a whisper.

Faust turns away from the bed and walks to the bedroom door to leave.

"Faust," I call out.

He looks back at me.

"Will you take pictures? Send some to me? I really haven't spent much time away from Oakley ever. I'm sorry if saying that hurts you, but this is impactful for me too. I trust you, Faust, but I'm scared."

Faust nods. I'm not sure to which of what I just said.

Then he says, "There will be coffee hot and waiting for when you get up for the day, sweetie."

He shuts the door.

And I have to give him my total trust.