Page 50 of Gluttony

“You want something to drink?” he asked, running down a list of beverages.

“Definitely wouldn’t mind some vodka,” Val replied, looking a little pale, though she was normally pale. Paler. And he knew why. She wasn’t looking forward to this part of the conversation, either; the part where they laid it all out. And by the end, would they be closer together or further apart?

Fuck, he hated the not-knowing, but what he did know was that he wasn't letting Val leave until things were good between them—as just friends or as a biker and his old lady.

He grabbed two glasses and poured vodka into them, one for Val and one for himself; he needed a stiff drink for what was coming and because of the conversation he’d had with Frost.

Red respected the man, would follow him into war, but he could not sit by and watch as he slowly destroyed his marriage. Emily was an amazing club queen, a loyal wife, a wonderful, involved mother to their fraternal twins, Sorsha and Warwick, and an all-around kickass woman. To see that Frost had lost sight of what he had and was neglecting what had helped him become the club president he was, was like a kick in the teeth. Red had confronted Frost about what he’d seen in the office, but Frost cut him off, telling him to mind his own business, that his personal life was none of Red’s concern. Not wanting to get into shit right then with Val waiting on him, he informed Frost that his time was coming, and he’d have to face the wrath of the club if he kept shitting on their queen. They were an MC; misogynistic, violent, profane, and barely civilized, but one thing they werenotwas disloyal—to the club or their women.

And that was a home truth he was reckoning right then; Val believing he’d been disloyal to her, and him subconsciously resenting her desire to hide behind her computer rather than set aside her fear and be with him.

Back in the living room, he handed Val her glass, and she shot it back like it was literal water.

Grunting then hissing, she squawked, “Yum,”—cough—“lighter fluid.”

Grinning at her, he took her glass and placed it on the coffee table, then took a seat next to her. His knee brushed against hers and his cock stirred in his pants.

Motherfuck! He was getting hard from just bumping joints, he couldn’t imagine what her touching his dick would be like.

Focus, dammit! Talk now, fuck later!

Tossing back his own vodka, he put the glass on the coffee table next to Val’s, then turned to her to see her staring at him, her head cocked, her gaze uncertain but determined, and her cheeks flushed from the booze. Probably.

The “lighter fluid” burning the back of his throat, he swallowed it, hissed, then smacked his lips. It was rough shit, but it was good shit.

Her gaze on him, he leaned forward, his body attuned to Val’s like a heat seeking missile. He reached out and took the hands from her lap and placed them on his, his larger hands around hers, keeping her in place. Walking with her at the grocery store had been a revelation; he could see their future—walking hand-in-hand, her tiny hand in his, trusting him to lead her. They’d be forty—sixty—eighty, still holding hands, still in love with one another. Also, holding her hand kept her close—not that she would wander off, but more like he didn’t believe she was real, that after yearning for her for so long, she was right there beside him.

Steeling himself, he opened his mouth and let the words fall out. “I’m sorry, Valentina.” He felt her stiffen beside him, and she tried to pull her hands back. He held them tighter. “I know there’s no number of words that will ever make up for disappointing you, making you feel as though I betrayed you. I heard what you said, what you felt, what you believe about what I’ve done, and it fucking kills me that you think I would ever want another woman once I finally have you.”

“What does having me mean, though, Red? Once you’ve fucked me? Once I finally admit we’re together? Or?—”

He squeezed her hands, fighting the urge to take her mouth and speak with his lips in a different way. He’s always been aman of action, so using words was harder than he hoped it would be. “It means that once you and I agree that we’re committed, in a committed relationship, and that we will be loyal and faithful and owned by one another, there will never be another. That’s what that means.”

He didn’t take his eyes from her face, watching her as she digested what he said. He didn’t care how long he had to sit there, he was willing to wait until the moon fell from the sky; he just wanted her to believe him, to forgive him.

To forgive you, she has to know it all.

“I think a part of the reason I was so obtuse about what “wait” meant was because I resented the fact that you wanted to wait in the first place.”

Her face screwed up in an angry frown, but he kept going.

“And I don’t mean just the sex, Val, I mean that you were putting my happiness on hold because you didn’t trust me at my word. I don’t know…” he sighed, “I think I knew, deep down, that your fear was about trusting me and not just about you being self-conscious about your looks. You didn’t trust that I would love you after seeing you, and that fucking hurt, baby. That tore me up, and my mind…well, you saw where it went. It took the easy way out, satiating my body while blocking out my pain, my disappointment. Yeah, I was a fucking asshole for continuing to sleep with other women, and many would consider that cheating, but…do you? Do you honestly think that what I did was cheating?”

She looked stricken, as if he’d gutted her. Shaking her head slowly, her eyes wide, she rasped, “Damian….” God, his name from her mouth was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, and he wanted to hear it for the rest of their lives. Val swallowed, closed her eyes, and took a slow, deep breath. She held the breath, opened her eyes, then let it out, before saying, “I wantto say yes, just because, realistically, youwerefucking other women.”

He nodded. “I get that.”

She continued, “But…no…I don’t think you were cheating, not really.” Slipping her hands from beneath his—he let her—she rubbed her forehead. “I want to put all the blame on you, because it fucking hurt when I realized what you’d been doing. I still do because it ripped my heart out.”

God, he couldn’tnothold her. In a blink, he pulled her into his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and burrowed his face into her neck, needing to fill his lungs with her sunshine summer scent.

“You were right…I didn’t trust that you would still love me after you saw me for that first time. I let years of fear and humiliation and disappointment cloud what should have been something special and wonderful between us.”

“I get that, too, baby. Years of mental and emotional abuse, bullying—healing from that shit takes time.”

She snorted. “I think that the mean voices will always be in my head, telling me I’m too fat, too ugly, not good enough, especially for someone who looks like you.”

He pressed a kiss to the pulse beneath her ear and hummed. She shuddered against him, which only made his cock harder.

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