21. Graham

In the light of the morning, I realize two things. The first being that I can't imagine any future anymore where Isabella's not in my life. The second thing is that every single one of my family members has notoriously bad timing.

I head back into my house after seeing Isabella into a cab and giving her one last kiss goodbye.

My mother is in the kitchen when I return, holding one of the cinnamon rolls Isabella baked in her hand. She takes a bite, her eyes falling closed for a brief moment. When they open, they land on me and she smiles.

"This is really good, honey. I'm guessing Isabella made them."

"It definitely wasn't me," I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. "How long will you be here for?"

She frowns. "I just got here, Graham."

"I'm aware. But I'm not really comfortable with you staying here with me," I say bluntly.

"Too bad, honey. Now take a seat so we can talk about Isabella. I want to know everything."

I arch an eyebrow. "And you assume I'm going to tell you?"

"Please?"

"No. I'm heading into my office to catch up on work. Thanks for ruining my morning, Mother."

"I actually do feel bad about that, Gray," my mother calls out as I walk out of the kitchen. "It won't happen again."

Her arrival effectively put an end to my plans for the day. Which included and was pretty limited to spending all my time with Isabella, preferably in bed.

I manage to avoid my mother for the rest of the day because she heads out soon after her arrival. She doesn't tell me where she goes to, but I'm sure it's to see Xander and Nate. She must miss them a lot. Especially Nate.

My mom was instrumental in raising him. I'm sure the distance must be hard for her after they moved to New York.

When night falls, I finally cave and text Isabella.

Me: Come over.

She replies a few minutes later.

Isabella: We seriously need to discuss your obsession with me.

Me: We can have it in my bed.

She sends only one word back in reply.

Isabella: No.

I groan softly. I swear she likes making me work for things.

Me: What's it going to take to get you to come here, Isabella?

She doesn't immediately reply. When she does, my heart pinches a little as I read the text.

Isabella: Explain why you were so unhappy to see your mother earlier.

Me: Seriously, Sunshine?

Isabella: Yes. Promise you'll tell me and I'll come over. Is she still there?

Me: Not at the moment but she'll be back soon. Don't worry, she won't mind if you stay over.

Isabella: Okay. But you still haven't answered me.

I finally accede, typing out the words and sending them although a part of me doesn't want to.

Me: I'll tell you what you want to know.

Isabella: Okay. I'll be there in half an hour.

Relief fills me. I got what I wanted, but at what cost?

Half an hour later, Isabella's walking through the elevators of the penthouse. I pull her into my arms as soon as she's within reach, breathing in her scent.

"I missed you, baby."

"I seriously never would have pegged you as a guy with attachment issues," she mumbles against my chest. "You saw me this morning."

"I'm aware," I retort. "And I missed you."

She laughs. "You're lucky I'm finding this cute. Have you eaten?"

I pull away from her with a chuckle. "Yes, I had some pizza an hour ago. You can be such a mother sometimes, Isa."

She wrinkles her nose. "Considering I met your actual mother today, that statement is not appreciated."She takes off her jacket, following me into the house. "Where is she?" she asks in relation to my mother.

"Probably at the Mincetti mansion. I tried to convince her to just stay there full-time during her stay in New York, but she can be pretty stubborn."

"Why don't you want her staying here?"

"For one, I had plans to fuck you on every surface of the house, but that's probably not going to happen anymore," I tell her, waggling my eyebrows.

She slaps my arm. "Don't tease me. Be honest."

I rub my arm, a little put off. I wasn't fucking joking. But I also know she won't let this go until we talk about it. Once we do, then she'll be ready to get to the fun stuff.

She and I both take a seat on the couch. Isabella puts a hand on my shoulder comfortingly as I start to speak.

"You already know parts of my family's complicated history. I'm pretty sure most of the world does," I start. "My mother used to work as my dad's secretary. She was in young, in her early twenties, and he was the company's CEO. I guess one thing led to another and they started an affair. My father was married at the time, to Xander's mother. And even worse, she was expecting Xander when they had their affair," I say bitterly.

Isabella is silent at my side, waiting for me to continue.

"Considering all this happened before I was born, the details are murky. Neither of my parents have ever bothered to explain why they did it. I mean, I understand my father can be an awful person, but sometimes it's hard to reconcile the idea of my mother with that of a woman who willingly had an affair with a married man. It just doesn't align with everything I know her to be."

"She made a mistake, Gray," Isabella says softly. "People are allowed to make mistakes."

"Yeah, and that mistake led to me. When she told my father, his big decision was to tell her to hide the pregnancy. He shipped her off to God knows where for a few years, kept her from the public eye because he was embarrassed. We were only allowed to return when his marriage to his first wife was on the precipice of divorce. And then my mother married him, which I don't know what that was about but like I said, he's terrible so-"

Isabella lets out a soft breath. "Do you know why?"

"I'm not sure. I don't even have all the facts because we've never spoken about it. The knowledge I possess came from an article written by this reporter back when it was all going on. ‘Tech Billionaire Richard Steele and his messy family affairs,'" I say dully. "Of course, in the article, my mom is completely eviscerated for being the other woman, the home-wrecker."

"You still haven't told me why you're upset with her, Gray," Isabella prompts.

"Because," I state, getting to my feet. I clench my jaw before running a hand through my hair. "You know, I wish my mother was the gold digger people actually think she is. I wish she had married my father for his money, but deep down, I know that's not true. She did it for me, to legitimize my existence, to make me something other than a bastard. And that's what kills me. If it had been out of self-interest, I wouldn't care as much. But she's in this position because of me. She's married to that monster because of me. You have no idea how he treats her, Isa. Like she's his property, she completely belongs to him. My mother's been relegated to a trophy wife that's at his beck and call. And it's all because of me. And she lied to me about all of it. We told each other everything. She said I was her best friend and I believed her. I always had issues with my family but my mother was my rock. So when I got older and all of this stuff came out, I felt betrayed and I don't know, I guess I've just had a hard time with it all."

Isabella stands as well. Her hand rests against her chest, her expression soft and soothing.

"You're not really angry with her. You're angry at yourself," she guesses astutely.

"No, I'm fucking angry at her. She never should have gotten herself in this situation in the first place," I correct.

Isabella gives me a look that says she doesn't believe me and I sigh.

"Fine. You're right. I'm fucking angry that I can't do anything to help her. My father will always have that control over her."

"Have you ever tried to talk to her about any of this? Instead of icing her out, why not just lay out all your issues?" she asks.

"And what's that going to achieve?"

"I don't know, healing? A way forward? You can't continue like this. And she seems like a good woman. I don't think she deserves her son being so angry with her."

"She is a great woman," I mutter.

"And you love her. And loving someone means accepting them despite their flaws. I know you want to help her, but have you ever considered that she might not need help? She's not a child, Gray. She made her choices."

I groan softly. Isabella's not saying anything I didn't know. But hearing the words from her is pretty damn convincing.

"You know you have a tendency to convince me to do things I would never do?" I ask her.

She laughs. "Right back at you, Gray. Just promise me you'll talk to her."

My lips thin. "I'll try."

"Okay. Now that I've spoken my wise words of wisdom, how do you feel about picking up where we left off this morning?" she asks, eyes bright.

Almost immediately, all the negative emotions churning in my gut fall away.

"That sounds perfect, baby."

I grin as I take her hand in mine, leading us up to my bedroom. I would fuck her right there in the living room, but my mom could return anytime and I don't think that's something she would ever want to walk into. Not to mention if she did, I'm pretty sure I would never get Isabella back into this house again.

I start to kiss her as soon as we're in my bedroom, with a rising degree of urgency and need. I've never felt the things Isabella makes me feel. It's like she has this control over me and my emotions, a control I can't explain.

I stroke my tongue against the seam of her lips, tasting her, demanding entry. They part, and the intoxicating taste of her coats my tongue. I cup the back of her head, angling her head so I can deepen the kiss. Her hands sink into my hair when my palm sweeps beneath the top she's wearing and over her stomach.

A shiver rolls through her and me by extension. We kiss like we're both seeking the oxygen necessary for us to breathe. It's frantic, desperate, filled with so much passion. I need more. I kiss my way down her neck and chest, eager to map every inch of her body with my mouth.

She gasps softly when my mouth closes over one of her nipples through the material of her shirt. I pinch the second one between my thumb, rolling it between my fingers.

"Graham," Isabella gasps.

I push her back on to the bed and kiss her on her lips once more before making my way down to her stomach. I place a soft kiss there, lifting her shirt up to her neck. Isabella's all too willing to take it off.

The smell of her arousal is damn near overpowering as I tug her skirt and underwear down.

"Already soaking wet for me," I murmur with pleasure at the sight of her pussy, so ready and so fucking perfect.

"Graham, please," she begs.

"You know I only ever hear those words from you whenever I've got you writhing under me, Sunshine."

Isabella's head rears up, her icy blue eyes landing on me with a ferocity that makes my heart skip a beat.

"The next words you'll be hearing is ‘fuck you' if you don't get me off in the next ten minutes," she growls.

My mouth curls up in a wide grin. "Is that a challenge? Because we both know I can get you off in five."

Any more words she might have to say die on her lips as I push her legs further apart, delving in, my focus on her already swollen clit. I lick it tentatively for a few seconds before starting to suck until Isabella's cries of pleasure fill the room.

I'm glad my mother's not home. Although all the rooms in this house are meant to be soundproof, I have a feeling my girl's scream might just test that theory.

Beneath me, Isabella writhes and bucks, begging me to stop one minute and then keep going the next. My cock pulses so hard it aches, but I ignore it in favor of Isabella's pleasure. She's dripping all over my face, the taste of her so addictive that I can't get enough.

She moans loud enough to wake the dead when I bury my tongue inside of her. Her back arches off the body and she finally comes, her entire body shuddering.

I hold on to her thighs, waiting for the trembling to stop as I give her clit one last slow, leisurely lick. I kiss it once more before lifting my head. My gaze lands on Isabella, who stares at me, cheeks flushed and chest heaving from the aftermath of her orgasm. A light sheen of sweat mists her skin and her face is so open and full of trust in this moment, it makes my heart clench.

"That was exactly five minutes, Sunshine," I tell her cockily.

She rolls her eyes. "Lie down, baby," she commands, a taunting note to her voice.

I don't even hesitate, shifting on to my back as she reaches for my cock, a greedy glint in her eyes.

"What do I get if I suck you off and you come in under five minutes?"

"If you manage it, I'll fuck you nice and slow until you're begging for release." I'm breathing heavily, anticipation swirling through my veins.

"And if I don't?" she asks silkily.

"If you don't, I'll bend you over my lap and spank you for a few minutes as punishment before taking you hard and fast from behind," I promise.

Her eyes gleam at that. It's one of the things I like the most about her. She's down for anything and everything, as long as she's doing it with me. I'm not sure what I did to earn her implicit trust, but I'm so grateful that I have.

"You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Steele," she murmurs, her hand sliding up and down my cock, which is already leaking at the tip.

When her lips close over my cock, I forget all about the deal. I forget nearly everything, even my own name. The only thought running through my mind is that she's fucking perfect.

And that she's mine.