Page 68 of Keeping Skylar
Guilt and regret engulf me from every direction. I regret being selfish and weak when it came to Lucia. I regret every lie I told and every moment I betrayed Skylar’s trust. I regret not fighting harder for our marriage when I had the chance. But most of all, I regret letting her walk away, right into the arms of another man.
This can’t be how our story ends—not now, not when I’ve finally found her. I have to believe that our encounter tonight happened for a reason. That perhaps it’s my second chance, my shot at making things right between us.
If staying in this godforsaken city is what it takes to win her back, then so be it. I’ll do anything to have my wife again. Anything. And there’s not a damn thing Heath or any of his loyal sidekicks can do to stop me.
It’s time I finally stand up and fight—for my wife, for our marriage, and for everything we once had.
CHAPTER 29
Skylar
Heath and I got back from the restaurant a little while ago. The silence between us is heavy, almost suffocating, as if saying Kaden’s name out loud might somehow summon him into this very room. Things are still a little intense, and all I want is to just cling on to what’s left of my birthday...before everything went to shit.
On the way to the apartment, I kept reassuring Heath that I was okay. He didn’t say much—just held my hand tightly, his eyes darting between me and the road, wearing that anxious, worried look like he was bracing for me to fall apart at any moment. I could feel the storm of questions brewing inside him, but decided to keep buried, instead.
We’re sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the TV, where some old Jackie Chan movie plays in the background—though neither of us is really watching. Our minds are clearly elsewhere. Just as I work up the nerve to break the tension and ask what he’s thinking, Heath beats me to it.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks quietly.
“Everything and nothing, all at once, if that makes any sense.”
He nods slowly, then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. With a heavy sigh, he looks up at me, concern etched across his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, really. Just a little shaken by how the night ended. But I’m glad I got to say what I needed to. He knows now that our marriage is over...and that I’m finally moving on.”
He forces a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and a pang of guilt tugs at my chest. Kaden had succeeded in casting a shadow over the rest of our night and it makes me so damn mad at him.
Heath’s gaze is downcast, lost in thought, the weight of the evening still lingering between us. Eager to lift the heavy mood, I rise from the couch and step in front of him, pausing just between his knees. His hand slips inside the slit of my dress, his touch slow and gentle as his palm glides along my exposed leg.
The warmth of his skin against mine sends a ripple of goosebumps across my body, and my eyes flutter shut. A soft moan escapes my mouth. When I open them again, his gaze clings to me—intense and unflinching.
As I stare into his piercing blue eyes, I see everything he’s been holding back: worry, anger, fear, sorrow...all tangled with a raw vulnerability he’s never shown anyone but me.
I cradle his face in my hands, holding his gaze. “Thank you for everything tonight. I haven’t felt this happy in such a long time. Even with Kaden showing up, this is still one of the best nights I’ve had...and it’s all because of you.”
His smile is faint but real, and I see the tension in his shoulders slowly begin to ease. His hands grip the back of my thighs, pulling me in between his legs, his forehead resting tenderly against my stomach. I thread my fingers through his hair, soothing, grounding us both, and his eyes fall shut.
“I wanted tonight to be perfect for you, Skylar,” he murmurs, his voice deep and raspy. “I’m sorry I lost control...sorry I made you worry. You didn’t deserve that. I just...” He pauses, his breath warm against my skin. “I couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting you again...or even upsetting you.”
“Heath, you made my birthday unforgettable. It was everything I could’ve wished for—and so much more,” I whisper, pulling back just enough for our eyes to meet. The momentstretches between us, tender and electric, and I finally gather the courage to say the words I’ve been holding onto since our first kiss. “Let me show you...just how grateful I am for everything you do.”
I gently press my hands to his shoulders, guiding him back against the couch. He leans into it without protest, legs parted, and his hands resting on his thighs. He stares back at me, steady and patient, silently inviting me to make the next move.
Standing before him, I reach for the zipper at my side and slowly pull it down, the metallic sound cutting through the air. Heath’s eyes stay locked on me, following every motion with a quiet intensity, like he’s memorising every curve and every inch of exposed skin.
I shuffle out of my dress, kicking it to the side until I’m standing in front of him with only a black strapless bra and thong.
“Fuck,”he whispers under his breath, the word coming out low and strained. His Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and the simple movement alone is enough to make me orgasm. His hungry gaze roams over my almost bare body, sending a rush of heat across my skin.
“Now it’s your turn, baby,” I tease, flashing him a seductive smile.
He smirks, rising slowly until he’s right in front of me. His eyes never leave mine as he slowly peels off each layer of clothing until only his black briefs remain—snug against the hard lines of his strong, sculpted body.
I bite my bottom lip, drinking in the sight of him in all his glorious form. Now that he stands an inch away, nearly bare, I study the intricate tattoos that cover his skin—a striking blend of symbolic designs and meaningful quotes that weave across his entire torso, each one telling a different story.
When my eyes drift just below his waist, I catch the unmistakable outline of his erection beneath his briefs. He must notice me staring, because his hand suddenly goes over it, stroking and squeezing, in slow, controlled movements.
Not wanting to waste another minute, I kneel in front of him and slip my fingers into the waistband of his briefs. With a gentle tug, I ease them down along his legs, his impressive length instantly springing out. He kicks his briefs aside, joining the pile of clothes on the cold hardwood floor. I tilt my head up, and our eyes lock—his gaze hooded and smouldering with heat and desire.
