Submerged(Bound Together Book 1)(57)

 

As we make it up to my apartment, I can’t help but think that I won’t be forcing anything. I have a feeling that Blake’s already as much a part of Natalia’s life as I am. Even if whatever is going on between him and I doesn’t work out, he’ll still be the father I always wanted for her.

 

I know.

 

I trust him.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen – Wake-Up Call

 

Blake

 

The ringing of a telephone wakes us up around seven-thirty. After we made it up to Carly’s apartment last night, we showered together before devouring each other once again. We took our time washing each other’s bodies and touching one another as if we’d never get enough. And I can’t. I can’t fucking ever get enough of her. I’m surprised I lasted until she rinsed the soap out of her hair before I took her from behind against the ceramic tile shower.

 

In bed, we talked about her childhood a little more. I still feel guilty asking her about it. The line is blurred between wanting to know her past for myself and wanting to know for the job. When she asked about my tattoo it was a welcome reprieve from the guilt I’m constantly carrying around because of my deception.

 

“What does this mean?” she asks.

 

“The eagle?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“It represents freedom.”

 

“And what about the flowers?”

 

“You don’t think a man can have some flowers tattooed on his body?” I ask, smiling down at her while she traces the dark outline of the eagle.

 

“Of course he can but it has to mean something. Men don’t usually just get flowers tattooed on their bodies for the fun of it,” she says.

 

“You’re right. It does mean something,” I tell her, absently stroking the soft flesh of her shoulder.

 

“So? What does yours mean?” she asks, turns slightly to see my face.

 

“It’s a reminder,” I tell her honestly, knowing that she’s going to want more information, and not knowing what she’ll think when she gets it.

 

“Okay, I’ll bite. A reminder of what?”

 

“It’s a reminder of a scent,” I tell her, turning her so that she’s full on facing me. I stroke the hair along the side of her head as I inhale that scent that I crave.

 

“A scent? Wildflowers?”

 

“Yeah, it reminds me of someone that I will never forget. It reminds me of her scent; the lotion she was wearing the night I met her. It reminds me of the one perfect night where everything was right and the way it was supposed to be. Even though I never saw her again, I knew I would never forget her wildflower scent. It’s ingrained in my nostrils and in my brain just like this tattoo.”

 

“Wow,” she whispers as a single tear slips down her face. “You remember how I smelled?”

 

“I remember everything about you, Carly. Some nights, your memory was the only thing that kept me going.” I want to elaborate so fucking much right now. I want to tell her about me–the real me–and the job I’m doing. I want to tell her that the memory of her scent and our night together was what brought me comfort on those long nights of engaging in illicit and illegal activity.

 

“I remember everything, too,” she whispers just before swiping her tongue across the stubble on my chin. My dick instantly hardens and is ready for her again–for a third time tonight.

 

I will never get enough of her.

 

Carly rolls over, reaching for the cell phone that’s vibrating on the nightstand next to the bed. She answers with the world’s most adorable, “Lo?” She doesn’t even crack open her eyes as she snuggles back into the pillow that we’re sharing. I can’t help the cheesy smile that crosses my face. I’m a damn lucky bastard.

 

“Oh. Hi,” she says, opening her eyes and sitting up. “No, no, I’m awake.” I’m on instant alert afraid that something’s up with Nat or her mom. “I don’t know,” she says, clearly undecided about something. “No, I don’t want to meet there. I’d rather meet somewhere neutral,” she adds before listening for several moments. “That’s fine,” she says finally before hanging up.

 

I wait her out for several minutes before she turns to me. “That was my dad.” Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.

 

“What did he want?”

 

“He wants to meet for breakfast. He wants the chance to explain things to me. He wanted to meet at his house, but I don’t feel comfortable going there. I want to do it somewhere neutral so I can leave if I want to. You know?”