Confessions in the Dark (28 page)

Fuck.
He drove forward in an achingly long, slow thrust. Buried to the hilt, his hips pressed flush to hers, he squeezed his eyes shut tight. He'd never get over the dizzying heat of her, the way she seemed to be made for him, welcoming him into her.

From the very beginning, she'd been so welcoming to him. So eager and free with her love and care. He'd spent too long resisting it, but as he lost himself inside her, he swore. He'd never hold back from her again. She'd get all of him, the good and the bad, and she'd make both better with the touch of her hand. With the warmth of her kiss.

“Serena...”

“I've got you.” The soft press of her palm on the back of his neck and at his hip grounded him to this planet and to her. “Cole, you're fine, you're good, you feel so good.”

He met her lips again, opening his eyes to stare into bright irises the color of the sea, and he could drown in them and never ever miss the air.

For the longest time, they stayed there like that, just barely rocking against each other as the heat of their connection melted him to his bones. She felt so perfect around him, wet and tight, and to go in bare like this—to possess her so fully. It was too much and nowhere close to enough.

He needed more.

Getting his knees underneath him, he ran a hand down her side to her ass, tilting her hips up into his thrusts so he slid in that extra bit deeper, and they groaned as one. Her flesh was silk beneath his palm, her sounds of pleasure a drug. He slipped his tongue through her mouth, dragging a hand along her thigh to lift it higher, and she was right on board. Wrapping her legs around him, she kept him close, until it was like they were one, as if they could never come apart. And then her pussy
squeezed
him.

Lightning zipped from his balls to the base of his spine, his skin crackling with it, and he gasped her name against her mouth. He wanted it to last, the same way he wanted
them
to last, but it felt too good. He had to let go.

He had to trust.

Planting both his hands to either side of her head, he braced himself on his arms and sped the motion of his hips. She met his every thrust, ankles crossed and digging into his arse, urging him on. The edge was closing in faster now. Driving in hard, he ground himself against her clit, desperate to feel her come apart. Her face went tense, the soft, whining noises that escaped from her lungs reaching into the very core of him and twisting.

He let loose a deep breath, the white-hot fire gathering. His voice was a broken moan. “Can you?”

“Don't stop,” she pleaded. “Don't—”

“Never.”

Her hands tightened against his skin, the hot clench of her pulling him in.

All his life, he'd feared losing control. But in that instant, he gave it up. He gave it to her, to have and to hold.

“I love you,” he breathed.

She tossed her head back. “I love you. Cole, I—”

Her climax washed over her like a dawn across the sky. Her pussy throbbed and pulsed, tightening around him until he tumbled after, and the black haze of need broke into brilliant light. Slamming forward one last time, he poured himself into her, imperfect and yet whole.

Complete.

E
xcuse me, Professor Stafford?”

Cole glanced up, sliding his notes in his bag as he did. The young man standing on the other side of the lectern had his shoulders back, his expression tight. Cole furrowed his brow. “Yes?”

“I was hoping you had a minute.”

Cole's laptop beeped, indicating it had finished shutting down. “Literally or figuratively?” He disconnected it from the projector and closed the lid before shoving it into its sleeve. “Because if the former, then you can walk with me. If the latter, it'll have to wait until office hours tomorrow.”

Office hours. He'd used to eschew them entirely, threatening TAs into covering them for him or just skipping out on them entirely. Now they were one of the things he most looked forward to each week. Classes had only been in session for a few days, so he probably wouldn't have many takers, but maybe he could get a good group going again like he had last semester. Inquisitive minds who needed individual time to work through their difficulties with the material. People he could help.

“Actually...”

Cole snuck a quick peek at the time. Bollocks, he was running late.

He looked back at the man expectantly. Then blinked, refocusing on him again. There was something familiar to his features, and he struggled, trying to place him.

The man—boy—tucked his thumb into the strap of his backpack.

His bright green backpack.

Cole's eyes went wide. “You—”

“You might not remember me,” he said, jaw flexing. “I never got your name, and I don't know if Max ever told you mine. But back a few years ago...”

“Oh believe me, I remember.” It all returned to him in flashes. The theft on the “L”—the thundering of his heartbeat and the rush of adrenaline as he'd flown wildly, insanely beyond his control.

The moment with his nephew's tormenter when he'd very nearly done the same, except instead of losing himself, he'd been found.

He'd seen the terror in a bully's eyes and recognized it deep in his own heart of hearts. He'd seen the razor-thin line between a monster and a man, and he'd finally come down fully on the side of the man.

Swallowing against the tide of conflicting emotions, he stroked his thumb across his ring, spinning it on his finger to calm himself. On the other side of the lectern, the young man seemed to be fighting not to squirm.

“Well. Sir.” The kid shifted his weight. “I'm in this class, you see, and I wanted things out in the open. There's not another section I can transfer to, and I need the credit for my major, and—”

Interrupting him, Cole cocked a brow. “And you want to know if there will be reprisals for your having ruined my nephew's life for a year.”

Cole had to give the man credit. He only very slightly flinched. “Exactly.”

There was an old, bitter part of Cole that wanted to flunk the little bugger on sight.

And there was another part that wanted to thank him. If it hadn't been for him, Cole might still be stewing, grieving and angry and alone. He might've never met Serena.

He might've never gotten her to take him back. To forgive.

To agree, eventually, to become his wife.

Releasing his ring, he reached out. It was still so strange to touch people casually, but he was getting better at it. Four years of love and tireless affection could break through even the most thoroughly built of walls. Struggling for a smile, he clasped the kid's shoulder with his hand. “You are very, very lucky you never laid a hand on my nephew again.”

And that he was a better man than he'd been before Serena.

Pulling his arm back, Cole returned to gathering his things. The kid's jaw flexed back and forth, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he stammered out, “So...so we're good?”

“We're good.”

He heaved out a heavy sigh. “Thank you, Professor.”

Cole waved him off, and much like he had in that alley, the guy took it as his cue to bolt. For about a minute too long, Cole watched him go.

Well, that was going to be awkward. He'd have to bring it up with Barry, either the next time he caught him in his office or when he and Serena went over for dinner the following weekend. But it was all right. Cole trusted himself to handle it. To be impartial. And to keep himself and his reactions under control.

The alarm on his phone blared out a chime, startling him back into action. Reminding him he had places to be. Silencing the alarm, he grabbed his bag and tossed it over his shoulder. If it wouldn't have been quite so unbefitting of a professor—and a newly retenured one at that—he would have outright sprinted to the “L,” but as it was, he kept himself to a restrained fast walk. He lucked out when an inbound train was pulling into the station just as he hit the stairs. He ducked between the doors a split second before they closed and dropped himself into a seat.

As the train lurched into motion, he gazed off through the window. His bag was full of grant proposals that needed editing and papers to read, and normally he'd take full advantage of the downtime offered by his daily commute. But he was still rattled, still lost in memories. Still this tiny bit angry.

But mostly just so unbelievably fucking grateful for the way his life had been changed, and he would never, ever go back.

When his stop finally came up, he was so deep in thought he nearly missed it. Jolting from his seat as the doors swept open, he disembarked with his head in a fog, and the walk to the field didn't help to clear it.

Apparently, he wasn't much good at hiding his distraction, either.

It didn't take him long to find Serena in the crowd of parents and siblings and other onlookers gathered behind the fence near the dugout. Nodding to the people he recognized, he made his way over to her, sidling in behind her and tapping her on the arm.

She turned to him, all unbridled delight at seeing him, even after all these years. It went straight to his heart, making him feel as tender and bruised as he'd been back when she'd first found him. The smile on her face fell.

“What's wrong?”

Bless this woman. This joy who'd pulled him out of the mess of ashes and fire that had been his life. She knew his moods so well by now—knew when to talk him through them and when to let him stew. He'd never earn her devotion or her love, but fuck him if he would ever stop trying.

“Nothing,” he said, sliding his arms around her. If he held on a little bit too tightly, she didn't call him on it. “Just had a blast from the past.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head up for a kiss, and he gave it to her gladly, relishing the warmth of her lips.

“Yeah.” He'd tell her the details later, talk through all the nuances of his reaction. Let her help him process it the way she always did. For now, though, he stuck to the part that was important. “Reminded me how incredibly lucky I am to have you.”

The soft curve of her smile returned. “Not as lucky as I am to have you.”

He didn't believe it for a moment, but he wasn't going to fight her on it. He needed her with a desperation that scared him sometimes.

Then again, maybe she needed him, too. Needed someone to remind her of how amazing she was and to shower her with all the love she deserved.

At the thought, he glanced around. “Was Penny not able to get off work after all?”

“No, she's here.” Serena pointed toward first base. The twist to her tone took him by surprise.

Penny and Serena still had their moments, but recently they'd been more or less on an even keel. Following her gaze, he scanned the crowd for blond hair and a black leather jacket, and—

Ah. Yes. His sister-in-law stood a little farther down the way, her head bent in conversation with none other than the new headmaster of the school himself—one Grayson Trousseau.

“I see.” Well, at least that explained Serena's tone. He mentally rolled his eyes at them both. Sisters, honestly. Refocusing, he returned his attention to the field. “How's the little slugger doing?”

“One on base so far.”

“Not bad.”

He glanced at the scoreboard. They were only in the second inning, and Upton was leading by two.

Just then, Max came up to bat. He adjusted his helmet and scanned the crowd. When his gaze met Cole's, Cole waved, giving him a quick thumbs-up.

Despite all of Serena's fears, Max had gotten into Upton and with a scholarship to boot. The school had been as brilliant for him as Serena had imagined it would, and the boy was flourishing, making friends and coming home with a hell of a lot fewer bruises. He was top of his class, and Cole took particular pride in how well he was doing these days with math.

Max stepped up to the plate, and they watched him as he hit a decent grounder off the first pitch. The crowd of Upton supporters erupted in cheers, none louder than his and Serena's. He made it to base, and Cole kept an eye on him even as he refocused his attentions, scarcely able to believe he'd managed not to ask yet.

Sliding his arms back around her, he rubbed a questioning hand over her belly. “And how's our other little slugger?”

“Slugging away.”

He swallowed hard. The idea of becoming a parent—of inflicting all his imperfections on an innocent he had brought into the world—had terrified him for so long. It would never stop terrifying him.

But they were ready. And once their son made it out into the world, Cole would protect him with every ounce of love in his body.

Threading their hands together, Serena hummed. Their rings clinked, and for a second, the emotion of the day threatened to overwhelm him.

He pressed a kiss to the gold of her hair. “Have I mentioned today that I adore you?”

“Mmm, I think you fit it in at
some
point this morning.” She ground back against him suggestively, and he growled, grasping her tighter to still her hips.

“I'm trying to be serious.”

She twisted her head to look at him, reaching up with one hand to touch his cheek. “Seriously, then. You have. You never let me doubt it.”

“Good.”

He let her turn her attention back to the game, but he only gave it half his eye.

A handful of years ago, he'd been lost and grieving and alone, watching his own train wreck of a life spin out and wishing to God that it would just
stop
.

Unwinding one arm from around his wife, he brought a hand to rest against his heart. The ink there wasn't new, but it still felt fresh sometimes. The nautical star was there to point him home, and beside it was a ship sailing out on clear waters. Seas that were tranquil and calm.

Serene.

The woman in his arms
was
his home now. She'd taught him how to be a better man.

And he was never going to let her go.