I couldn't think of a response and was still trying to recover from him voicing his possession of me, so I decided to stay quiet.
"You have to understand the position I was in, Lena. I wanted you. More than I've ever wanted anything in my life, I wanted you. I wanted to save you, to be with you, to help you. But I also wanted to give myself to you. I wanted everything with you. But, it wasn't that simple. I could have told Edgar to fuck off, could have just snatched you up, shown you everything you've been missing in your sorry excuse for a marriage with Derrek, and it was damn tempting to do it. But if I didn't play my cards right, Piper would be right back where she started. I had to protect her, but I couldn't just let you go.
"It would have been so easy to just take the job and seduce you, but I knew I'd never be able to walk away. So I had to figure out a way to keep you while still keeping Piper safe. It just turns out that Derrek and Edgar were a little smarter than I gave them credit for."
"What do you mean?"
"Those pictures you saw? The ones of us together?"
I swallowed hard. "Yeah?"
"Those were supposed to be taken at your house. That was the deal. I was supposed to sleep with you in your bed. Derrek had cameras in there for weeks just waiting. That's why I insisted we leave. I wasn't going to give him the ammunition." He rubbed his hand over his bearded jaw again. "So I made sure we never had sex in your house. Do you remember? You remember how I made sure we left?"
"Yeah?"
"You remember how, right before I slipped into you, I made you tell me you wanted it?"
My heart simply stopped at his words. I'd thought about him and I together that way a lot over the last couple of months, remembering the way we were together, how possessive and domineering he was, but also how tender and sweet he could be. But even with all the nights I laid awake thinking about him, I hadn't recalled that moment until now.
"I couldn't tell you just then how important it was to me that our being together was your decision, but it was. I needed that. Needed you to know that, in the end, you wanted it just as bad as I did. You wanted me."
"You said if I chose to be with you, it would be only you from then on. You said you'd protect me and keep me safe."
"That's all I've been focused on doing since you left."
I scoffed.
"You handed pictures of us, together, right to him. Pictures of you buried inside of me. I was mid-orgasm in that picture. And you just gave it to him." Tears threatened, my breath hitched, the heartbreak of his betrayal bubbling over inside of me.
"I did nothing of the fucking sort," he snapped, leaning over the table toward me, his hand slapping its surface loudly, jarring me.
I wiped away the tear that had escaped. "Your credibility is shot, Preston. That photo came from your house. How else did he get it?"
"That night – the first night we were together – that's the reason Edgar tailed me and cornered us in that alley. Once I took you from your house, he knew I didn't do it his way; that I wasn't going to. So, he sent someone to my house to plant that camera there. Edgar was stalling me so Derrek could still get his proof. I was never going to give him what he wanted. I would never do that to you. I never knew the photos or videos existed. I've never seen any of them."
I was losing a battle I'd been fighting for weeks. I wanted to believe him so badly. I wanted to believe that he'd never meant to harm me, or cost me everything. I wanted to believe everything he was saying.
But he'd lied to me.
And I wasn't sure how big or small that was; how significant or insignificant. Surely, if he was lying to me to help protect his sister, I could forgive him that, right? But that would mean I'd have to believe him – have to believe the whole story – from beginning to end. I'd have to believe he felt our connection as deeply as I had. That he cared about me. That he was hurting without me. That he'd come after me.
He must have sensed my wavering, must have picked up on the fact I was getting lost in the possibility of believing him, because he moved toward me.
As if in slow motion, his chair slid across the floor and his thigh was pressed up against mine. The warmth of his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, holding me firmly, pressing his fingers into me just enough to make me gasp. My eyes slowly closed, as if using my vision would be sensory overload coupled with the feeling of his touch on my skin. Then his nose moved over my cheek, nuzzling me, stopping when his lips were pressed against the shell of my ear.
"I can't be apart from you anymore, sweetheart," he said so quietly, it was barely a whisper. "I love you, Lena. You have to believe me when I say it was always you." His breath pushed up against the skin of my cheek, sending shivers throughout my body. "Everything I did, I did for you."
"I want to believe you," I said, bringing my hand up to cradle his face, eyes still closed, not caring that anyone in the coffee shop could be witness to our private moment. "But if I let you in again, if I choose to believe you and I'm wrong, it'll break me. You'll break me."
"Please let me take you somewhere. I don't want to have this conversation in a coffee shop." His thumb was brushing up and down the side of my neck and all I could do was nod. He stood and held his hand out for me. Placing my hand inside his warm, strong one was like curling up with my favorite blanket. It was familiar and reassuring.
He led me outside to the motorcycle I'd seen him on days before.
"That was you," I murmured.
"Huh?" he asked, reaching into a compartment and pulling out another helmet then handing it to me.
"I saw you on this bike the other day. I saw your hair and your leather jacket and knew it was you, but convinced myself I was just wishing you here or something."
He gave me a sad smile and then pulled the helmet over his head.
"I didn't know you could drive a motorcycle," I said, pulling on the helmet.
"I looked into having my Lotus shipped over here, but it was too costly, especially since I wasn't sure I'd even get you to agree to talk to me." He swung his leg over the bike and I nearly went cross-eyed. He looked sexy behind the wheel of his Lotus, but he was sinful on the back of a bike. "Climb on." His words could have stopped my heart, could have liquefied every part of my body, but instead, they sounded tense and worrisome.
"You're sure you know how to drive one of these?"
"Lena, you can trust me."
Suddenly, I wasn't just going on a motorcycle ride, now I was making a decision as to whether or not I trusted him. I wanted badly to climb behind him and let him lead me wherever he was going, but hesitated for just one moment. I ran all the facts I knew through my brain, tried to weigh what I knew against what I felt, and the scale tipped just slightly toward him. In truth, the last pebble to fall on his side was Sam. I knew Sam wouldn't be here, encouraging our relationship, if he wasn't trustworthy.
I followed his example, having never been on a bike before, and swung my leg over the back. I found that as soon as I lifted my feet from the ground, gravity slid my body down the seat until I was snuggly pressed up against Preston's back. His hard legs and hips fit against the inside of my thighs. I laid my hands tentatively on his waist, but he grabbed my hands and wrapped them around him.
"Hold on tight."
My lungs snapped shut with his words, my mind instantly picturing Preston behind me as I was on all fours, open and waiting for him, right before that damned picture was taken of us. I squeezed my arms around him, both trying to hold onto him safely, but also to push all the humiliating thoughts from my mind of Derrek seeing those photos.
He smelled incredible. The scent that was simply Preston mixed with the unmistakable smell of his leather jacket was enough to force my eyes closed as I breathed him in.
The bike suddenly jolted forward, moving into traffic, and I yelped, unprepared for the movement. His hand came off the handlebar and rested against mine clasped to his chest. He ran his hand over mine a few times, soft and gentle, before putting it back on the handlebar. I relaxed as the ride went on, getting use to the unfamiliar feeling, leaning into turns and being so vulnerable to every car on the road.
It occurred to me about ten minutes into the ride that Preston was an excellent motorcyclist, and he must ride often to be that proficient at it. I began to relax and enjoy the scenery passing me by. I hadn't thought to ask him where we were going, but I didn't worry about it. I was willing to go wherever he wanted in that moment.
We left the city proper and started to ride away from the commotion. The road we were on wound up the hills of a volcano in the middle of the island.