Copyright © 2024 by Stevie Sparks

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any
means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the
prior written permission of the publisher. You can lend it to your friends though.
This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is
entirely coincidental.

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 Contents

Dedication
Language
Trigger Warnings
1. Talia
2. Talia
3. Talia
4. Jensen
5. Talia
6. Jensen
7. Talia
8. Talia
9. Jensen
10. Talia
11. Jensen
12. Talia
13. Jensen
14. Talia
15. Jensen
16. Talia
17. Jensen
18. Talia
19. Jensen
20. Talia
21. Jensen
22. Talia
23. Jensen
24. Talia
25. Jensen
26. Talia
27. Talia
28. Talia
29. Talia
30. Jensen
31. Talia
32. Epilogue
Also by Stevie Sparks
Acknowledgements
About the Author

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 Dedication

For the sick bitches who’d masturbate in front of his secret cameras because
you want him to watch.

It's me. I’m sick bitches.

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 Language

Please note that this book is written by an English author about British
characters. It's therefore written in UK English, which differs slightly from
US English. Examples of their differences are:

Realize is Realise
Organize is Organise
Behavior is Behaviour
Spelled can be Spelt
Dreamed can be Dreamt
Jewelry is Jewellery
Anemia is Anaemia
Traveled is Travelled
License can be Licence
Whiskey is Whisky

There are obviously too many examples to catalogue (that's another one)
them all here, but just to make you aware ahead of time.

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 Trigger Warnings

What’s the point of providing a list of triggers that aren’t in the book?
I have had a few comments asking why I do this—it’s so people who
have triggers can quickly look at the list, know their trigger is not in the
book, and safely read it spoiler-free.

People with triggers still deserve an enjoyable reading experience, and I’d
prefer to give them to option to go into a book without being spoiled.
What triggers are not in the book?
There is no mention or appearance of abortion, baby loss, cat death, child
abuse, claustrophobia, dog death, drug abuse, dub-con, guns, fatphobia,
homophobia, incest, miscarriage, misgendering, needles, paedophilia,
prostitution, racism, self-harm, slavery, stillbirth, suicide, terminal illness,
transphobia, or war.
MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW

What triggers are in the book?

 Babies, on-page childbirth (that results in a happy, healthy baby and a
happy, healthy mother), attempted rape (on page), and assault (on page).
There’s also a dash of lactation kink and a smidgen of torture in there too.
On different pages. Thankfully. What a weird torture scene that would be.

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 1

Talia

A ttempting to scrub the gritty feeling from her eyes, Talia finally
abandoned her textbook. She was nestled on the mezzanine level of the
reading room, surveying the students diligently working below.
Nerves pulled her focus to the window, through which Low Memorial
Library lurked. That had been the photograph on the welcome leaflet she’d
received alongside her acceptance letter to Columbia University; smiling
students lounging on Low’s sun-kissed steps.
Once, that image had filled her with excitement. She’d let out a shriek in
the living room, thrusting the letter at Dad and Darcy, unable to believe she’d
been accepted into Columbia—on their premedical track. It had been the first
step on the road to being a doctor, to accomplishing everything she’d worked
towards.
Today, a look at Low had her digestive tract tying itself into a gnarled
lump.
Talia didn’t even need to look at the clock. She’d checked her phone five
times in the last two minutes. Her appointment was 57 minutes away.
An hour until I lose my scholarship.
She shook her head, ridding her brain of the thought. Her situation must
happen all the time, surely. Students’ progress would go up and down. They’d
give her time to get her grades back up. They wouldn’t pull the rug out from
under her at the first sign of failure. Universities would be devoid of students
if that were true.
 A thin fissure of doubt ran through her mind.
Back home, that may be true.
But this was America.
Talia bit her lip. It seemed simple enough, on the surface. America and
England were similar countries; the former derived from the latter, so of
course there would be similarities.
She just hadn’t expected how different it would be. On her first day in
America, she’d nearly been mowed down by a taxi because she looked right
when crossing the road instead of left. And then a bad-tempered police officer
had threatened her with a ticket for jaywalking.
A year later, her dream of studying medicine at one of the best universities
in the world was in danger of caving in on itself.
Because if she lost her scholarship, she may as well head straight to the
airport.
Her face twisted into a grimace. Dad would be so disappointed. During her
school years, he’d assisted with every assignment, every essay, every project.
He’d helped her make countless flash cards and brainstorms and revision
questionnaires.
All because her dream was to become a doctor like Mum. To live up to her
memory.
Talia looked up at the clouds brewing over the autumnal day. Would Mum
be proud of what she’d accomplished?
“I don’t know how he hasn’t been kicked out yet,” a conspiratorial whisper
came from the level below. “Quinn and the girl who sold herself. Talk about
lowering the freaking standard.”
Talia poked her nose over the end of her graffitied desk. It abutted a
balcony, over which she could see the rest of the reading room below. On the
other side of the room, a lone student sat at the desk nearest the door, his
pencil steadily moving across the paper, his dark hair falling over his
forehead. There was no one else in sight. Was that the Quinn they were
talking about? She caught his eye just as he looked up, quickly averting her
gaze.
Another whisper came, sounding as if they were directly below her. “A
hundred grand is worth it to some people, I guess.”
The first one snorted just as her blonde bob edged into view. “Would you
sleep with some rich guy for a hundred grand?”
“I’d rather eat this textbook page by page. And to think he facilitated the
entire thing at that sex club he works at. He’s no better than a pimp, and she’s
no better than the prostitutes swarming Roosevelt Avenue.”
Talia stared at her phone, lost in thought. A hundred grand for sleeping with
some rich guy? At least she wasn’t the only girl at Columbia feeling the bite
of desperation. Her lips contorted at not only the thought of some rich guy
thrusting atop her, but that being her first experience of sex.
When she lost her virginity, she wanted it to be with someone she loved.
She knew that for certain.
She let her attention wander as the girls below her drifted onto another
topic of conversation. Her phone flashed on, and Talia felt herself smile for
the first time all day.
Her sister Darcy had sent a selfie of herself and Dad, smiling over a table
brimming with afternoon tea. Talia recognised where they were immediately
—the café near the family home in Covent Garden, with its familiar floral
decorations and expertly made cakes.
Homesickness hit her like a freight train.
A second message popped up as Talia gazed wistfully at the photo.

We shared a strawberry tart in your honour. Miss you x

DARCY

The sight of Darcy and Dad steadied her somewhat. They were why she
was doing this. She was fascinated by the human body, of course. Ultimately,
her ambition came down to wanting to help people, but she also wanted to
make her father proud. He had been a nurse for years before going into
property development with the money from Mum’s life insurance payout, and
as a child Talia had been obsessive in wanting to know about the people he’d
helped during his workday.
He'd never been prouder of her than the day she announced she’d been
accepted into Columbia University—just like her mother.
She couldn’t let him down. She couldn’t let Darcy down. Her little sister
had always looked up to her, and Talia going abroad for university was the
first time they’d really been separated. Darcy had been excited for her, but
Talia knew the separation hadn’t been easy. There wasn’t a day that went by
without them texting and calling each other.
Her heart clenched at the thought of home. She could be in that café in
Covent Garden with them both, and instead…
 Talia shook away her maudlin thoughts and pulled her laptop towards her.
She wasn’t going to go into that scholarship office meeting unprepared. A
quick look at the clock told her she still had 44 minutes left. Plenty of time to
gather her thoughts, prepare an argument in her favour, and fight her case.
Half an hour later, Talia gathered her things into her bag, confidence and
nerves swirling together in her stomach, before slinging it over her shoulder.
The walk across the South Lawn to Low was short, and Talia trailed her hand
over the squat hedge lining the path.
She climbed Low’s steps, slipping between the imposing columns lining
the front of the building. In her opinion, its proud exterior was no match for
what lay within. In a few years, this would be where her graduation ceremony
was held—and the cavernous rotunda was certainly well-equipped for the job,
complete with sleek columns of its own.
For now, she headed towards the scholarship office with a singular goal in
mind, her prepared speech fresh in her mind.
The building’s interior was a maze of marble, but Talia knew the way by
now. At her first visit during orientation week, she had quickly become lost,
wandering deeper and deeper within. Had an older student not come to her
rescue, she suspected she would still be lost in its depths.
Today, the Financial Aid Office was a bustling hub of activity. Its dark
wood walls were obscured by shelves bursting with binders full of
paperwork. Yet more paperwork could be found stacked on the employees’
desks, alongside the steady tapping of keyboards and the low whir of
computer cooling fans hard at work.
Talia sat on the row of seats at the Office’s entrance, waiting for her name
to be called. She swallowed, smiling politely when she accidentally caught
the eye of the man pushing the mail trolley into the room.
Attempting to keep her breakfast in her stomach, she watched the clock on
the wall with rapt attention. The minutes ticked by. Three o’clock. Five past.
Ten past. Quarter past. Until—
“Natalia Llewellyn?”
Talia honed in on the caller, an older woman whose bright orange blouse
glowed against her dark skin. She sat down on the opposite side of the desk,
her polite expression looking more like a rictus grin. “Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon. How can I help, Miss Llewellyn?” Brianna—according
to her nametag—said, sweeping a handful of her locs over her shoulder.
“I’ve come to discuss my fees.”
 Brianna’s fingers tapped the keyboard, eyeing the monitor in front of her. A
frown pulled at her forehead. “I can see you were awarded a merit-based
scholarship for your freshman year. Is that correct?”
Talia nodded stiffly, feeling shame cover her like a shadow. “It is, but—”
“And the fees for your sophomore year are almost due.”
“I haven’t… I haven’t met the scholarship’s eligibility requirements for this
year.” Talia lowered her voice. “My GPA is too low, but they recommended
that I speak to yourselves to see what assistance would be available.”
The flash of incredulity in Brianna’s eyes was like a dagger over her head.
“Have you been affected by any extenuating circumstances during the past
year?”
Talia paused. Somehow she didn’t think crippling homesickness would
qualify. “No.”
Brianna turned her attention back to her computer, her fingers flying across
the keyboard. “I can see you’ve already retaken Calculus and Organic
Chemistry.”
“That’s correct.” Those modules had nearly been the death of her. She
seemed to have left the straight-A student she’d once been on the runway at
Heathrow.
“And you weren’t able to improve your grade?”
“Maths and chemistry aren’t my strong point,” she admitted. “Can I try
again? If I can bump up my grades there—”
“Students are only permitted a single retake.”
Oh. “Can I retake some of my other modules? My Physics I grade wasn’t
brilliant, perhaps if I—”
“But you did pass. If you received a passing grade, you’re not eligible for a
retake.”
Panic began to set in. “Are there any other scholarships available?”
Brianna pulled out a binder from the nearest shelf, flicking through its
pages. “The deadline for most scholarships have passed. Only one is still
accepting applications. Here.”
Talia took the proffered leaflet, but her heart sunk at its title. Needs-Based
Aid. She placed the leaflet on the desk, bowing her head slightly. There was
no point even opening it. “I won’t be eligible for this. My father is…”
A multimillionaire.
“… wealthy,” she finished quietly.
There was a pause before Brianna answered, and Talia could see the
compassion drying up before her eyes. She briefly looked at her computer
screen, her eyes flicking from one line to another. “I can see your fees are due
in the next seven days.”
“Is there no other option?” Talia whispered, her hand coming up to her
mouth.
“I’m afraid not. If this payment isn’t made in seven days, your account will
be formally referred to the university’s agents for debt collection and possible
legal action regarding the fees already incurred for your sophomore year.
Your enrolment on the premedical program would also lapse, and you would
be unable to rejoin.”
A start of fear bolted through her spine. “Legal action?”
“The account details you’ll need for the payment are on the email you
received this morning. Thank you for coming in, Miss Llewellyn.” Brianna
raised a firm hand signalling towards the door, but her tone wasn’t unkind.
Talia didn’t remember leaving the Financial Aid Office, nor did she
remember the winding route out of Low. All at once, she found herself sitting
on those famous steps, hugging her knees like her life depended on it. She
ignored the cold seeping through her jeans, attempting to quieten her swirling
thoughts.
For the first time in her life, Talia was glad her mother wasn’t there to see
her now. She never knew what a failure I was.
Her eyes burned as she realised she was going to have to tell her father and
sister. All of the support they’d given her over the years was going to be for
nothing. She was doing this for them—Dad, Darcy, and Mum’s memory. And
what exactly had she achieved?
The image of her acceptance letter floated through her mind.
And here she sat. On those stupid fucking steps, her life in ruins. Not only
was she going to arrive at home with her tail between her legs, the debt
collectors and legal action were going to be biting at her heels.
A hundred thousand dollars. That was what her freshman year scholarship
had been worth.
Could Dad pay it? This year, perhaps. But this was the first adult thing
she’d done in her life. Talia imagined making the phone call to Dad, her
dignity crumbling further with every word. She couldn’t be a failure. She
didn’t want to use her family’s money to get ahead.
When her parents were young, they didn’t come from money. They’d stood
on their own two feet. They’d been adults. It’d been hard, but they’d found a
way.
Talia just had to find her way.
 She blinked, her eyes suddenly refocusing—on Butler Library opposite her.
“Would you sleep with some rich guy for a hundred grand?”
Wasn’t that what the gossiping student had said earlier? She swallowed
away her spiralling panic, standing so quickly her head spun. Quinn. That had
been his name, the dark-haired student studying in the corner. The one who’d
apparently facilitated the arrangement.
A hundred grand.
Talia had never slept with anyone before. How bad could it possibly be?
Even if it was bad, it wouldn’t last long. A few hours at most. The alternative
—telling Dad and Darcy of her failure—would be far worse.
Was she really considering this? Her first time with a complete stranger?
Maybe she had more in common with that other desperate student than she
realised.
A lifetime of humiliation in exchange for a couple of hours of misery.
That was all there was to it. Once her first time was over and done with,
maybe she could learn to enjoy herself with other partners. Maybe this would
be a new start for her, both academically and sexually.
A curious calm settled over her as she took that first step, and every
subsequent step came easier.
Quinn. She needed to talk to Quinn.

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 2

Talia

T alia glanced around the dorm room, her nerves grating with every
breath. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect when Quinn had welcomed
her in. He worked in a sex club, after all. Somehow, the image she’d
conjured in her mind had included explicit photos and expensive
furnishings.
But no. Nothing in Quinn’s dorm gave her any hint that he worked in a
sex club. There was a stack of posters on the desk—identical to the one
she’d used to find him—offering a wide range of tutoring sessions in the
reading room she’d been in earlier. Next to those, she saw the familiar
letterheaded paper of the scholarship team. The furnishings were minimal,
and even the bedding looked like the cheapest money could buy.
The only hint of Quinn’s personality lay on the shelf on the wall. Books
like The Basics of Bitcoins and Blockchains and Rich Dad, Poor Dad
weighed the shelf down. She eyed the Bitcoin book. Her dad had said one
of his friends had got lucky with Bitcoin, but he didn’t have anything good
to say about the cryptocurrency as a whole.
Either the books left Quinn’s shelf on a regular basis or he was
particularly fastidious in his cleaning, because Talia couldn’t see a single
speck of dust.
Unlike my own bookshelf, she thought, her conscience giving her a
surreptitious kick.
 Quinn himself leant against his desk, his hands gripping its edge. “So
what subject was it you needed tutoring in?”
“I, um,” Talia stalled, twisting her hands together. “It’s more of a referral
I’m looking for, rather than tutoring.”
Dark, windswept hair covered his forehead, until it met brows that
seemed to be permanently frowning. Or at least Talia hoped they were
permanently frowning—it was either that or he really didn’t like her. “A
referral to who?”
Deep breath, Talia.
“I’ve heard that you work at a club,” she said tentatively, hoping he
would fill in the gaps in her knowledge. When he didn’t, she threw caution
to the wind. “An adult club.”
Eyes so dark they were nearly black glared back at her. “Who told you
this?”
“People were talking about it in the library earlier today. I overheard.”
She’d never given much thought to sex before, but now it was potentially
on the table it was all she could think of. Would her buyer have the same
kind of untidy hair he did? Would they be good in bed? Was Quinn good in
bed? Would her buyer be as handsome as him?
Stop it, she hissed at her thoughts.
Quinn pushed himself away from the desk, stepping around a neatly-
stacked tower of dumbbells to sit on the bed. He leant forward, his elbows
on his knees. “What’s your name?”
“Talia. Natalia, but everyone calls me Talia.” Except for Dad. He called
her Nattie.
“Talia…?” Quinn slowly looked her up and down, his gaze tracking
every curl in her hair.
“Llewellyn,” she answered, trying not to squirm with discomfort.
“And how old are you, Talia Llewellyn?” Her name was a caress on the
soft curve of his lips.
What did that have to do with anything? “Eighteen. I’ll be nineteen later
this month.”
He paused, as if in thought. “What’s your body count?”
Talia reared back, bewildered. “I’ve never…” She dropped her voice.
“I’ve never killed anyone.” Jesus, what kind of club did he work at?
A bright laugh lifted Quinn’s expression, his eyes shining with the first
smidgen of warmth she’d seen in the man. His grin was almost fond as he
looked up at her. “I mean, how many people have you slept with?”
“Oh.” A red tinge came to her cheeks. “My body count is the same for
both meanings, I guess. None.”
Quinn smirked up at her. “Good. I can work with that.”
The duality of emotions that burst through her veins was almost
shocking. The relief of being one step closer to paying her tuition fees and
the utter panic of holy-shit-am-I-actually-really-doing-this.
He didn’t give her a moment to process either. “But it’ll need to be soon.”
He looked at the calendar on the wall. “When’s your birthday?”
“That’s fine,” she nodded, trying not to seem desperate when her brain
was screaming the sooner, the better. “The second of October. Sunday after
next.”
Quinn made an indistinct noise. “Are you doing this for the money or the
thrill?”
Her eyes flicked between his. It hadn’t escaped her notice that neither of
them had explicitly stated what they were discussing. “And by this, you
mean?”
“Selling your virginity to men who are willing to buy it,” he supplied, his
eyebrow cocking up. “I assume that’s what you’re wanting.”
There was a pause before she nodded. “It’s for the money,” she replied
quietly.
His expression wasn’t unsympathetic. “Then, like I said, it’ll need to be
soon. You’ll fetch the highest price as an eighteen-year-old virgin. That’s
the lowest they’ll go.”
Legally, she thought uncomfortably.
“They’ll want to interview you first. Then there are several rounds of
testing you’ll need to undergo, and they’ll need your medical records. You
good with that?”
Talia nodded again, feeling slightly queasy. “I’m good.”

Talia wasn’t quite sure what she thought the adult club was going to be
like. Some seedy, backdoor establishment off an alleyway in the worst part
of town. But Lux was as luxurious as the name implied, sitting at the base
of Central Park, blending in with the latticed concrete and limestone
façades of the skyscrapers around it.
It looked utterly, utterly ordinary when Quinn had first walked her
through the front door, the doorman inclining his head as they passed.
Even now, on her third visit, there was no hint of the seediness she’d
imagined.
Lux’s manager sat on the other side of his desk, flicking through her
medical records—and her test results. His dirty blond hair rested just above
his shoulders. “HIV negative. Herpes negative. Chlamydia negative.
Gonorrhoea negative. Syphilis negative. Hepatitis B and C both negative.”
Over the manager’s shoulder, Quinn leant against the wall, his arms
folded over his chest, listening to every word.
Talia waited. She wasn’t particularly worried about STDs, but it was nice
to know.
She wasn’t even worried about Quinn being there anymore. During her
first meeting, they’d discussed what would happen if she went through with
the deal. How she would be auctioned off wearing a transparent gown, in
front of a room full of men. How the winner would be within their rights to
do anything they wished to her. How her body would be their property for
the night.
The first meeting had been the hardest, but Quinn had been there all the
way, answering her questions, even taking her on a tour of Lux itself—
including the stage she would eventually be sold on.
“I’ve also had a look through your medical records,” the manager said,
his blue eyes briefly glancing up at her. “You’re infertile, is that correct?”
It was easy for him to throw it out there, just like that.
“Correct. Both of my fallopian tubes are blocked,” she confirmed,
somehow managing to talk over the lump in her throat.
Was that a hint of confusion in his eyes? “Right, right, right,” he
murmured. “But you have, uh, endo… uh—”
“Endometriosis,” she finished for him. “That’s the cause of the blockages
in my fallopian tubes.”
“We don’t need the pregnancy termination agreement, in that case,” the
manager took out a scrap of paper from her file and moved on to the next
item in the agenda. “And I can see you’re allergic to bananas, so we’ll
remove any lubricants containing banana flavourings from the room as
well.”
 Talia was too nervous to explain that they were likely made using
artificial sweeteners rather than natural ones.
“So… money,” he said, checking his watch with a bored expression.
Finally. She tried to conceal her excitement.
“The typical cut for auctions is fifty percent to the house, fifty percent to
the girls.”
She’d gone over this with Quinn. For someone who worked at a sex club,
he was… unusually sweet. He was like every other college student who’d
needed a bit of extra cash and answered an online job advert.
Only the ad ended up being for a private members club.
“What you need to do,” he’d said in his dorm room before they came,
coaching her on how to increase her cut of the auction, “is push that the
men won’t have to wear a condom. That’s not something usually offered by
the club, Talia. They’ll put that in the auction listing sent to club members
ahead of the night. And you’re up for anything. Some girls prohibit certain
acts ahead of time, but you’re not prohibiting anything, and that makes you
even more valuable. Fight your case. I’ll help you every step of the way.”
“I have done some research,” she replied, smiling at the club manager.
“I’ve looked through past auctions, and I’ve seen that girls who don’t
prohibit certain things make significantly more than those who do—same
with girls who don’t require condoms. The fact that I’m combining both of
those things means that my auction is likely to draw in more bids.”
The manager made a grim noise in the back of his throat.
“I’m happy to go fifty-fifty… on the condition that the client wears a
condom and certain acts are prohibited.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “The
typical cut for a typical auction.”
Giving Quinn an irritated look over his shoulder, the manager turned back
to Talia. “Sixty percent to you, forty percent to the house in exchange for no
condom use and no acts prohibited.”
“For such a unique and valuable offering,” Talia replied, parroting the
words that Quinn had given her, “I would accept a similarly valuable
percentage. I would be expecting a share in the region of eighty-five percent
to myself, fifteen percent to the club.”
The manager laughed, as she and Quinn had expected him to. Don’t be
put off, Quinn had told her. He goes through this routine every time,
expecting girls not to know their worth—but we both know you’re worth
more. “Miss Llewellyn, you have to understand that you’re not just put on
stage at random. Every auction is a carefully curated event held on an
optimum night of the week, at an optimum time.”
She tilted her head slightly. “With the optimum item on sale. Eighty
percent to myself, twenty percent to the club.”
Tapping his fingers against her medical files, the manager gave an
exaggerated exhale. “Seventy-five percent to you, twenty-five to the club.”
Talia held out her hand. “Deal.”
The manager didn’t shake it for long, giving it one quick pump before
standing. “We’ll get the contracts over to you in the next twenty-four hours.
If you can sign them and get them back to us as soon as possible, that’d be
much appreciated.”
“Do you have any idea of when my auction will be?”
He turned to glance at the calendar. “This Friday or Saturday, most likely.
We’ll formalise it before sending out the contracts. Once those are signed,
you’ll be unable to back out without formal legal consequences.”
A start of fear shot down her spine. Legal consequences. Legal action.
She’d heard those words more than she’d expected to this month. Either
way, she stood firm. “Is there anything I’ll need to bring with me?”
“An overnight bag would be a good start.” He glanced her up and down
with those intense blue eyes, his jaw ticking. “And your courage. Once
you’ve signed those contracts, you’ll be going up on that stage, whatever
happens. If you need to cry, I’d advise you to do it beforehand.”

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 3

Talia

T heshoulders
white chiffon robe was lighter than the wind, draping over Talia’s
and coming to rest mid-thigh. It concealed little, placing her
pale pink nipples on show for the world to see, hiding just beneath the
transparent fabric—along with the rest of her body.
She chewed her lip, watching her reflection in the dressing table mirror,
sitting in one of Lux’s teeming dressing rooms, being pimped and pressed
by its harried stylist, whilst the rest of Lux’s female employees readied
themselves in front of their own dressing tables.
Half an hour remained until Lux opened—and her auction began. The
room was packed with gold chiffon robes, but Talia alone was dressed in
white.
White. Because she was a virgin.
If she was being honest with herself, it disgusted her that men would
perceive her value as greater because she was untouched.
But she needed the money more than her morals.
“Will it hurt?” she asked quietly.
“Mmm?” the stylist, Anna, pulled the hairpin out from between her lips.
“Sex?”
Talia nodded.
“People aren’t going to buy a diamond necklace only to smash it to bits,
darling,” Anna replied with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “You’ll be
fine.” She slid the hairpin into Talia’s hair, the finishing touch on the side
plait restraining her red curls, oddly reminiscent of a bridal hairstyle. “All
done.”
Anna moved on to the next girl, a curvaceous blonde with jet black roots,
striking up an immediate conversation. Neither of them attempted to
include Talia. Nor did any of the other girls in the room. It was clear they all
knew each other well.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. It’s only one night. One night
and then she would be free to move on with her life. She would never have
to tell Dad or Darcy how much she’d fucked up.
She was exchanging one indignity for another.
A cold hand on her shoulder made her jump. “Are you okay?” Quinn
asked, peering down at her with his dark brows drawn down.
Not trusting herself to speak, she resorted to a nod.
Looking as though he knew exactly what she was trying to avoid, he
inclined his head towards the door and held out his hand. “Come on.”
Talia let him lead her through the building, eventually going through a
back entrance into a dingy, dimly lit courtyard. The acrid smell of cigarette
smoke hit her nose, but the breeze was like a wave of arctic water against
her exposed skin. “It’s freezing,” she juddered.
Quinn unzipped his overcoat, beckoning her closer. “Come in.”
The frosty wind drove her into his coat. He was toasty warm beneath, and
Talia attempted to absorb every ounce of heat, clinging to his front. Even
his overwhelming scent of cigarette smoke failed to bother her. “I feel like a
baby monkey,” she snorted. “And you smell like smoke.”
He laughed, a deep rumble against her cheek. “I’ve just been out here on
my break.” He closed the jacket behind her. “You looked like you could use
one too.”
A cigarette or a break? “I’m scared,” Talia admitted, honesty swirling in
her eyes. It was nothing she hadn’t said last night just before their tutoring
session had turned into a movie marathon. She twisted her hands together
beneath his jacket, attempting to share what little warmth she had. “When I
first signed up, it seemed so simple. A night with a rich stranger in
exchange for my tuition fees. Now it’s here I can’t help but think of how it
could go wrong, how he might not give a shit that I’m in pain, how he
might like to inflict pain, and what if he—”
Quinn laid a frosty palm against her cheek. “Everything will be fine.”
 She bit her lip. “Will it? I haven’t even kissed a guy before, let alone—”
Quinn blinked. “Wait, what?” He gave her a searching look. “And you’re
going to give that privilege to a stranger?”
There was a pause as Talia deliberated. She worried her bottom lip
beneath her teeth. She’d been intending to save up all of her boldness for
later, but perhaps she could cash in early. “Not if I give it away now.”
The realisation dawned on him instantly, the shock widening his eyes.
“The winner of the auction is going to buy my virginity. I have no control
over that. But he’s not buying my first kiss; that’s still mine to give away.”
His palm touched her cheek again, his thumb dancing across her bottom
lip. “Then let me accept.”
Talia let out a faint murmur as he kissed her. Her first thought was the
softness of his lips against hers—before the shocking heat of his tongue
came. He angled her head, deepening their embrace. A hoarse groan
rumbled through his chest. Before she froze to death, Talia pulled away,
holding her hand against Quinn’s broad chest.
She gave him a faint, if not slightly underwhelmed, smile.
So that was what kissing was like.
Hopefully sex would be as uneventful and painless as that.
“Shall we go inside?” she murmured, not knowing what to say. Was
thanks an option? “The last thing I want to do is miss the auction.” And she
was pretty sure her toes were in danger of becoming frostbitten.
Back in the dressing room, Anna was furious. “You stink of cigarette
smoke,” she muttered, taking the white gown from Talia’s shoulders and
giving her an identical replacement. “Go to the bathroom and brush your
teeth. There’s disposable toothbrushes on the shelf. Who said you could
have a cigarette?”
“I didn’t have a cigarette, I was just standing near—” Talia motioned to
Quinn.
He stood in the doorway, his eyes zipping upwards from their leisurely
pursuit of her breasts. “Hmm?”
Anna rolled her eyes, flicking her chocolate brown hair behind her ear,
revealing the strands of grey hiding at her temple. “Goddammit Quinn, get
out of here.”
Quinn sent Talia an apologetic look, retreating in the direction of the
manager’s office.
 “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times,” Anna grumbled under
her breath, frogmarching Talia to the bathroom.
Talia expected Anna to leave, but she watched with a beady eye as Talia
dutifully brushed her teeth and spritzed her hair.
“Ready?” Anna said, looking at her watch.
The jumpy movement of Talia’s head wasn’t quite a nod, but she took it
as one anyway.
“Now remember,” she said as they walked, leaving the hustle and bustle
of the dressing room behind, “there’s perineal numbing spray and throat
numbing spray in the bathroom if things get too painful with your client.
There’s also your usual Tylenol and ibuprofen for afterwards, plus there are
condoms and lube dotted around the room. But if you’re in the mood for
like an edible or something, give us a shout and we’ll get on it. Oh, and
don’t forget to pee after sex.”
Talia shot her a questioning look as they traversed the long corridor
Quinn had taken her down previously. She began to hear voices up ahead;
the low murmur of male chatter.
She swallowed. Was the man who was going to buy her already in the
building?
“Gets all the germs out,” Anna continued, ignorant of Talia’s internal
panicking. “Trust me, you do not want a UTI.”
The backstage area was far removed from the dressing room’s flurry of
activity. It was empty except for a mirror—and, more importantly, a set of
stairs leading up to the first floor—where her auction would begin. Bright
lights from above left her in the shadows, but it was the noise that wilted
her.
The man who would take her virginity was just out of view. He was one
of those countless voices, deep and rich and probably drunk, just waiting to
bid.
The full length mirror projected her reflection back at her, and Talia gave
herself one last inspection. Her vibrant curls were still kept firmly in check,
her body was still on show to an alarming degree, and her expression only
projected a marginal amount of terror.
Considering the circumstances that had led her here, to a tiny room
beneath a billionaire’s playground, as Quinn had called it, Talia thought she
was doing admirably.
After tonight, all of her problems would be over.
 Talia listened to Anna’s instructions of where to go, how to walk, how to
smile, how to open her gown, but at no point did Anna mention how not to
fucking puke all over herself.
Because all she could think about as the host’s disembodied voice
boomed through the room above, officially opening the auction, was that
she was going to be sick.
With a shove from Anna, Talia slowly made her way up the steep stairs. A
stage stretched out before her, but spotlights blinded her from seeing
beyond it. Drunken jeers and wolf whistles hit her, thrown by the occupants
hidden from view.
Obediently, she went and stood on the ‘X’ painted on the centre of the
stage, her shoulders thrown back.
The host’s voice blared out from the speakers above. “Gentleman, please
welcome our English rose to the stage.” Whoops and heckles and shouts
came from every direction. Talia wanted nothing more than to run back
down those stairs, but she opened her gown, just like Anna instructed.
After tonight, all of my problems will be over, she recited to herself,
baring her naked body to a room full of men she didn’t know, hoping they
couldn’t see her shaking.
After tonight, all of my problems will be over.
The host’s voice drowned out her thoughts, and the catcalls and whistles
only got louder. “Are we ready to bid?”

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 4

Jensen

T hisEvan
was the last fucking place Jensen Stone wanted to be tonight.
Whitmore, the incompetent CEO of Garcia Richardson
Management, was ploughing him with drinks. Probably in an effort to make
him more pliable, unaware that the watered-down piss Lux called beer
would barely even qualify as alcoholic back home.
“You know I’m Scotch,” Whitmore said, giving him a proud glance, as
though they were both part of some secret brotherhood.
“Are you, aye?” Jensen muttered.
Whitmore nodded, holding up his glass of icy piss. “Clan Campbell. It’s
where I get my red hair from,” he grinned. “What about you?”
So Whitmore’s sixteen times great grandfather probably emptied a
Campbell chief’s bedpan. Fitting. “No clan.”
“Huh,” Whitmore said, brows pulled down in confusion. “So what do you
think of New York?”
Jensen couldn’t wait to be home, that’s how he found New York. It wasn’t
often he travelled on business—as one of the four shareholders of Stone
Holdings, he didn’t usually deal with emergencies such as this. None of
them did. That job went to the CEO, Gloria Monye.
Until Gloria had been in a car accident on her way to the airport and
hospitalised.
 The four of them had had to scramble to fill in for her. He and Warren
flew to New York in her stead, although the private jet they’d travelled in
was a far cry removed from the prison they’d met in. Rhys and Aldous,
Jensen’s cousins, were running Stone Holdings in between visits to the
hospital.
What Jensen had learnt from it was, firstly, that they needed to give
Gloria a pay rise, and, secondly, that Evan Whitmore was losing his job the
moment the takeover was finalised.
Somehow he didn’t think Whitmore would have brought Stone Holdings’
CEO—a middle aged woman—to Lux. It was touted as an exclusive
gentleman’s club, but the more he saw, the less he liked. Lux was kitted out
in sleek black, with the furnishings a sparkling gold—including the women.
They, more than anything, made him uncomfortable. They sashayed
around the club, winding their way between the tables in front of Lux’s
empty stage, balancing drinks trays on their dainty arms, wearing sheer
golden gowns that revealed everything beneath.
So much so that when they first arrived, Whitmore accidentally dropped
his phone and asked one of them to pick it up, just to see her bend over,
giving Jensen a wink.
Not long after that, Whitmore had shared a tad more about Lux. Namely
that everything here was free—including the women. If they’re wearing
gold, he’d said, they’re free game. Whitmore apparently paid some
extortionate annual membership for the privilege. But tonight’s a special
occasion; they’ve got an auction. Wait until then before you make your
choice.
Whitmore would likely never have guessed Jensen, part owner of a multi-
billion pound company, grew up in poverty, so much so that his mother
once shared an occupation with the women serving them. Grimly, he
couldn’t help but wonder what his drinking companion would do if he
realised Jensen had spent seven years in prison for murdering a man.
The only thing he regretted was the time he spent away from his loved
ones.
“New York has been eye opening,” Jensen replied. He didn’t bother to
smile. How Garcia Richardson Management was still running was a
mystery, but the bones were there to make it a success—once Whitmore
was firmly out of the way.
 Jensen pulled out his phone. It was nearly nine o’clock in the evening, but
with the time difference it was early hours of the morning for him. He
scrolled through his messages. Euan Llewellyn had been in touch, sending
over information about a joint venture they were embarking on.
His cousin Rhys had also sent him an update on their CEO’s hospital stay,
and Jensen was pleased to see Gloria was being discharged in the morning.
Aldous, Rhys’s brother, had messaged as well, updating him on plans for
Jensen’s aunt’s birthday party. Smiling, Jensen sent a reply.
“I’ll bet. It’s about to get better, my friend.”
Oh good. Are they closing?
But as Jensen looked up, the spotlights around the stage ignited as one,
illuminating every square inch of the long, rectangular platform, the banner
underneath it bearing Lux’s logo.
“Gentleman, please welcome our English rose to the stage,” a voice
boomed through the speakers as a lone, shadowy figure climbed onto the
stage. “Are we ready to bid?”
The room thundered into life, with Whitmore whistling and slapping the
table, adding to the cacophony.
And then she stepped into the light.
Jensen’s lips parted. The sight of her hit him like a physical blow to the
chest. He stopped hearing the noise around him, or the host’s voice blaring
across the room. All he saw was the woman in front of him, dressed in a
sheer white gown that left nothing to the imagination, revealing every inch
of perfect, unblemished skin.
But her eyes—big and bright and so desperately, desperately afraid.
She must only be a few years younger than Aldous.
The thought gritted his teeth, just as he realised numbers were being
thrown around as though they were weightless. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Fifty.
Jensen slapped Whitmore on the shoulder. “What are they bidding for?”
“A hundred thousand!” an older man bellowed from just behind them.
Whitmore leant in, raising his voice above the room’s chatter. “To have
her. For the entire night, she can’t say no.”
Jensen glared at the older man behind them. A good-looking man, on the
surface, but his eyes were as cold as ice. He glanced at the woman on the
stage, doing her best to be brave. Fuck, was she being forced into this?
With Lux’s annual membership fee being worth more than most people’s
mortgage, only one-percenters lurked here. And tonight, Lux’s rich,
powerful patrons swarmed the room like flies, their lecherous stares almost
wilting the English rose on sale.
Jensen knew all too well the devastating scars one influential man could
inflict.
“One hundred thousand dollars,” the host announced. “Going once, going
twice—”
“A quarter of a million,” Jensen called, blurting out the first number that
came to his mind. It didn’t matter. He could afford it.
The room fell silent around him—including Whitmore, thank fuck. Even
the host took a moment to recover. “A quarter mil is bid. With the
gentleman on Table 12 for a quarter of a million dollars. Do I hear two-
hundred-and-sixty thousand?”
The older man replied with a lazy flick of his hand. “Here.”
“The gentleman on Table 14 wi—"
Jensen didn’t hesitate, his eyes on the woman on stage, who looked more
terrified with every bid. “Half a million.”
“Three quarters,” that dark, cold bid came, not letting the host get a word
in edgeways.
If the older man was anywhere near as wealthy as he was, they were in
for a long night. Jensen almost rolled his eyes. He wanted to get this over
with. In a normal auction, he’d be eking this out bit by bit, but he didn’t
want this filth looking at the woman on stage for any longer than they
already had. “A million,” he shouted, hoping it would scare off the scumbag
behind him.
The room was as silent as a morgue, but was that hesitation he detected
from his competitor? “One point one million,” the man called.
“I have one point one from the gentleman on Table 14. Do I hear one
point two million?”
“Two million,” he snarled, glaring at the other bidder. And stop wasting
my fucking time. At this point, the only thing he wanted was to get up on
stage and put his jacket round that poor girl.
“Two million dollars,” the host repeated slowly, emphasising every word.
“Do we have a competing bid? The bid is here at two million dollars with
the gentleman on Table 12.”
When his would-be competitor gave a shake of his head, Jensen didn’t
waste another second of his time on the man.
 “The gentleman on Table 14 is out,” the host’s voice came. “At two
million dollars with the gentleman on Table 12, going once, going twice,
sold.”

OceanofPDF.com
 5

Talia

T alia knelt on the floor of one of Lux’s bedrooms, as instructed by Anna,

and let loose a long, slow breath. Her fees would be paid— and then
some. The prize her virginity had fetched was staggering, and she didn’t
know whether to be thankful, apprehensive, or straight up terrified.
But at least she didn’t have to go home with her tail between her legs,
embarrassed and needing a handout.
Whatever happened after tonight was a fresh start.
The hem of the gown sprawled around her knees like the petals of a
flower, sliding against the hard wooden floor of the room she would lose
her virginity in. Her knees would be aching tomorrow if the man who won
her auction took much longer to get here.
But then there was no guarantee he’d let her get off her knees when he
arrived, and that thought had her heart racing with fear.
When she’d been up on that stage, unable to see more than the bright
lights around her, hearing disembodied voices shout number after number,
fear had been seeping into her very marrow.
Two million dollars. The winner of her auction had paid two million
dollars to take her virginity. And that fact in itself was horrifying. Was that
all he was expecting to do? What if he got off on pain or humiliation?
When the sun rose, would there be anything left of her at all?
 She opened her eyes, the room coming into view. Most of the furnishings
were made of black leather, with gold detailing in places like the armchair’s
wooden feet or the posters of the four-poster bed. It positively screamed
money.
And yet they couldn’t afford a rug for me to kneel on.
The soundproofing in this room meant that she was isolated from the rest
of the club—the rest of the world. The man who’d bought her virginity
could be outside the door at this very moment, and she’d never know it.
One of the waitresses could be in the next room screaming for help, and
she’d never know it.
Talia thought of the day she’d said her goodbyes to Dad and Darcy. And
now here she was, kneeling on the floor of a sex club, about to give her
virginity to the highest bidder.
Her ears pricked up suddenly, her focus razor sharp. Was that movement?
She nearly choked on her own inhale when a beep sounded from the little
electronic box next to the door.
Someone was coming in.
Eyes plastered to the cold wooden floor, the door was deafeningly loud as
it opened. She could feel his gaze on her skin, her gown providing little in
the way of protection. Talia doubted whether even a suit of armour would
protect her at this moment.
Her heart jumped as the man’s stepped into the room, his expensive
leather shoes coming into her peripheral vision. The door closed behind
him, sealing them in together—for good or ill. He moved closer, until he
was close enough to reach out and touch.
But Talia followed her instructions. Eyes on the floor. Hands to yourself.
Obey his commands.
Fabric shifted above her. Was he undressing already?
The lump in her throat made it difficult to swallow down her
apprehension, but she managed it.
Talia was so concentrated on hiding her fear that she gave an instinctual
flinch when a heady warmth suddenly infused her, wrapping around her
shoulders.
She blinked. He’d given her his suit jacket.
But then he spoke. “Give me your hand.”
She obeyed, taking his large hand, the strength of his broad, bulky frame
pulling her to her feet with frightening ease.
 His eyes were sapphire infernos.
That was the first thing she noticed about her buyer, barring the way his
hand positively dwarfed her own. Talia swallowed once more, tightening
her grip on the unquestionably expensive jacket around her.
“What’s your name?” he asked, his low voice a gravelled rasp.
Another surprise. She thought she’d detected a Scottish accent
somewhere in the room during her auction. It appeared the Scot had won.
“Talia.” Always be truthful with your buyer, Anna had told her in no
uncertain terms. But don’t ask him any personal questions.
He still hadn’t let go of her hand. “Where are you from, Talia?”
“London.” She gave him a strained smile.
There was no question that he was attractive, with razor sharp
cheekbones and eyes that a woman could drown in, coupled with a
smattering of silver at his temples. Talia would have put him in his early
forties—a handsome, experienced, privileged man. Of that there was no
doubt in her mind. All of which begged the question…
Why the fuck had he bought her?
A man like this didn’t need to buy women. A man like this picked
whatever woman he fancied, because god knows they would be lining up
for the opportunity.
Talia bit her lip, knowing there were two options.
Firstly, that he was one of those exceedingly lonely rich men who wanted
sex workers for companionship rather than sex.
Secondly, that he bought sex workers because unpaid women refused to
endure the things he wanted to do to them.
Somehow she didn’t think the former would go after virgins.
Jesus Christ, she wished he’d let go of her hand. Something in his
burning gaze told her that he was neither lonely nor seeking
companionship. The thought that this man placed value on her because she
was a virgin was sickening. And then she felt like a hypocritical dickhead
because she’d asked to be auctioned off. And yes, she would be taking his
money, but she’d send him a mental fuck you very much once she had it.
He gestured to the bed, giving her a long, searching look. “Sit.” Taking a
seat in the leather armchair next to the bed, he leant towards her, resting his
elbows on his knees. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and I need you
to answer truthfully. Do you understand?”
 Talia sat as requested, trying not to think about what was about to happen
on the bed. “I understand.”
“Are you being forced to do this?”
The question took her by surprise. “No,” she said truthfully.
“Are you on drugs?”
“No. Lux had me do a drug test and I had to fill out like a bajillion
medical forms before they accepted me. I’m clean—and always have been.”
He homed in on that, his brow pulling together. “Before they accepted
you? You applied to be auctioned?”
Now it felt like she was the one being judged. “Yes.”
“May I ask why?”
Talia huffed out a silent laugh. “Money.” Doesn’t everything always come
down to money in the end?
He leant back, stretching his arm out along the arm of the chair, passing
over a row of buttons that she assumed were to control the massage and
heat settings—her father had one like it back at home. The movement
highlighted his shoulders and chest both, capturing her focus for far longer
than it should have done given that this man had literally bought her. “For
what?”
“University. I’m on the pre-med track at Columbia, but I lost my
scholarship.” There was no shame in admitting it to him, strangely. She had
no pride to maintain here. It was almost freeing.
His gaze drifted downwards before quickly coming back up—and staying
there. “Is it a one-and-done deal or are you required to come back?”
She shook her head. “It’s just the one auction.”
“Good,” he stood, taking a deep breath that emphasised his breadth, “I’m
glad I could help.” He held out his hand. “It was lovely to meet you, Talia.”
She stood to take it almost on instinct, his warm, firm grip racing her
heartbeat. “It’s nice to meet you as well.” Looking back to the bed, her heart
pumped faster still. He seemed nice. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be so bad
after all. God knows it could have been worse. “Where do you want me?”
Arousal blazed in his eyes—before it was quickly shuttered. “I don’t pay
for sex.”
She blinked, wondering what other task she was going to have to handle
for him. “Then… what did you buy me for?”
“Because,” he said, with a ferocity that sent shivers down her spine,
“none of those scumbags out there deserve to touch you.”
 Why was that so hot?
He turned away, heading towards the door. Talia watched him go,
releasing her grip on his suit jacket, her thoughts going a mile a minute.
She’d spent the last two weeks shitting herself, tossing and turning in the
night, terrified of what kind of man was going to buy her virginity. Terrified
of what kind of pain she may have to endure.
The worst kind of torture was the unknown. And she’d endured enough of
that.
Because if she walked out of Lux in the morning, virginity safely in hand,
she would inevitably lose it somewhere else. During some disappointing
encounter, likely with a man just as inexperienced as her. Darcy had lost her
virginity last year—despite being Talia’s younger sister—to some guy
during a one night stand. When Talia asked how it went, Darcy had simply
grimaced. My vibrator does a better job, and it doesn’t spit cum all over me
afterwards, she replied.
Before her more sensible half caught up with her, she rushed across the
room and wrapped her hand around his unexpectedly muscled bicep.
“Wait!” The words tumbled out of her. “You bought me… to protect me?”
He softened. “Someone needed to.”
Shoving her better judgement aside, she held his arm with both hands,
stroking downwards. “What if I asked you to stay?”
“Talia…” he whispered, his muscles straining beneath her grip. Was he
holding himself back? “I told you—I don’t pay for sex.”
“This would be freely given. We’re both consenting adults. I can see the
way you’re looking at me.” She took his hand, slipping it between her ivory
gown. “And I know how I’m looking at you.”
“We shouldn’t.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “You’re half my
age.”
His reluctance was comforting. This wasn’t a man who bought virgins; by
all accounts, he seemed disgusted at the idea. So who better to entrust her
virginity with? “It doesn’t matter who we are outside of that door, does it?”
“I’m not paying you for this.” His hand wrapped around her middle, his
fingers biting into her skin as he pulled her closer. There was that
intoxicating scent again, drugging her under. “Consider the money a gift,”
he whispered, his other hand sliding up her neck.
“Two million dollars is an extortionately priced gift.” Her breath hitched
when she felt something hard against her hip.
 Conjuring her last ounce of confidence, Talia smoothed her hand over it.
His response was immediate; a deep, hoarse exhale that had her squeezing
her thighs together.
His dark laugh was bewitching, his fingers dancing across her cheek.
“Somehow I think you’re worth every penny, baby girl.”
Talia moaned as his lips caught hers, stroking in long, slow passes, until it
was all she could do to clutch his shoulders to keep her upright. He walked
her backwards, seizing her lips once more, moving down her neck until she
gasped. “I don’t even know your name,” she realised, her lips swollen and
her mind dazed.
He surfaced, pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. “Call me Jay.”
Jay. She smiled, stroking the dark stubble on his cheek. The little specks
of grey throughout his stubble and hair reminded her that he was likely old
enough to be her father, but somehow she didn’t mind. There was a strange
sense of safety there. “It suits you.”
“Does it now?” Jay replied, his Scottish accent a purr in her ear. He
stilled, looking at something behind her before switching back. “Do you
trust me?”
Her eyebrow tilted. “More than anyone else in this building.”
“Not the best compliment I’ve ever received, but I’ll take it.” Jay led her
across the room, stopping at the armchair he’d been sat in before. Or, more
specifically, the black footrest in front of it. It was an odd shape—a
triangular prism with rounded edges, topped with what she could only
describe as a soft, ergonomic pad. “Kneel on this for me.”
Confused, she glanced down at it. “You want me to sit on a footrest?”
Jay’s eyes widened for a moment before a slow smirk crept onto his face.
“Yes, sit on the footrest. One knee on either side.”
Bewildered, she followed his instructions, giving him a grateful smile
when he placed cushions underneath both of her knees. The position was
unexpectedly revealing, letting cool air wash between her legs.
“Now rest your weight down on the footrest.”
“But it’ll be touching my…” Talia gulped down her embarrassment,
holding herself above the footrest. She was a grown woman. She could say
it aloud in front of a man. “My pussy.”
Something about that made his smile grow, but his voice was little more
than a whisper. “Trust me, Talia.”
 Jay sat in the armchair he’d settled in earlier, watching her gasp at the
cool leather on her inner thighs. The ergonomic pad moulded against her
sensitive folds, conforming to her shape.
Though Jay’s posture was relaxed—reclined, his powerful thighs spread
—his eyes were alight with blistering heat. His fingers moved against the
arm of the chair, brushing against the pad of buttons she’d seen earlier. “Are
you comfortable?”
Talia gave a tentative nod.
All thought left her head as the footrest came to life, sending strong
vibrations through her quivering pussy. Pleasure erupted between her
thighs, stealing the breath from her lungs. She gasped, her knuckles
clutching the edge of the footrest.
Her wide eyes found Jay’s, only to squirm beneath his hawk-like focus.
“Jay,” she whispered. “This isn’t—oh—a fucking footrest.”
There was that smile again. “I know.”
The intensity of the vibrations racked up, and Talia couldn’t stop the
embarrassingly loud sob of pleasure that escaped her. “Jay,” she said again,
fighting to keep her eyes open as a sudden orgasm was battering at her
gates. “Fuck,” she panted, her clit pulsing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
There was a tug at her gown, and she opened her eyes to see Jay leaning
forward. “Arms up. I want to see you.”
Talia obeyed, her brain having long since stopped working. She didn’t
care that she was now entirely naked. Her only awareness was between her
legs, pounding wildly.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered. Her gown lay discarded next to the
armchair, but Jay reclined once more within it, his hands clutching at its
arms. He absorbed her every movement, still fully dressed.
Talia felt more exposed than she’d ever been. Her nipples were pebbled
tight, with every inch of her skin on show—for a man she didn’t even know.
The vulnerability of her situation didn’t escape her but, strangely, she liked
it.
Another moan left her, tailing off in a high-pitched squeak. She dropped
her head, but Jay’s hand tipped her chin backwards. “Uh-uh,” he murmured.
“I want to watch.”
“I can’t.”
Jay cupped her cheek, gazing into her eyes so deeply it felt like he could
see into her soul. “I know you can. Do it for me.”
 Talia obeyed, unable to look away from the magnetic pull of his gaze.
Her legs began to shake, the intensity building in her body, but neither of
them broke the connection. Almost against her will, she shifted her weight
onto her arms, putting some distance between her aching clit and the
definitely-not-a-normal-footrest.
Jay was there in an instant, kneeling on the floor with her. He knocked
her arms aside and held her thighs to the footrest. Eyes blaringly wide, Talia
cried out with the force of the vibrations, digging her hands into his shirt.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. This was happening.
An orgasm had never approached her like this—and she’d never had a
man in control of her release.
To have a man in control of what she knew would be the most
devastating release of her life was so far out of her comfort zone it was
laughable.
Talia whimpered Jay’s name, the nerves in her pussy screaming in
response. His warmth surrounded her as he knelt before her, his firm hands
on her thighs sending pleasure to every part of her.
Jay’s eyes were sapphire infernos once more, savouring her pleasure.
“You’re making me so proud, Talia.” His lips caressed her neck. “One last
push, baby girl. I want to see you fall apart.”
She erupted. A hoarse, desperate scream ravished her throat. The pleasure
seized her entire body, forcefully arching her back and shaking her legs.
Talia couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Her entire being had
been reduced to the vibrations holding her pussy hostage.
It went on and on and on, until Talia didn’t think it would ever end. She
gasped in what little air she could, shuddering through one second to the
next.
All at once, the pleasure receded, leaving nothing behind except her
overly sensitive flesh. The vibrations cut off as quickly as they began, and
Talia found herself slumped in Jay’s arms, her senseless body being carried
to the bed.
Soft, expensive bedding engulfed her naked skin, followed by a soft kiss
to her temple.
“I’m so proud of you,” Jay said, his lips at her neck.
Fuck, that phrase.
She wasn’t prepared for what it did to her—even then, in the wake of the
most intense orgasm of her life. Warmth suffused her body, relaxing her
muscles and lowering her eyelids.
Talia reclined against the covers, sighing in satisfaction as Jay’s attention
progressed to her breasts, She’d never found much sensation there by
herself, although she was all too aware that her experiences were by no
means exhaustive. On the contrary, she devoted her efforts—or her
vibrator’s efforts—lower down rather than exploring her breasts.
Jay took a different approach.
He cupped her heavy breast, teasing kisses around the edge of her nipple.
Sensations began to flow through her. For the first time in her life, she
needed more. She speared her fingers into his dark hair, encouraging him.
He didn’t budge, instead looking up at her with a devilish glint in his eye.
“Do you need something?”
“Play with my nipple. Please.”
Not wasting a second, Jay’s lips closed around it, sucking and kissing,
igniting a fire between her breast and her clit. She’d thought the latter
would have checked out after the vibrating footrest, but apparently fucking
not.
She was so focused on that connection that she didn’t realise Jay had
brought his free hand up to pluck her other nipple, remaining ignorant until
pleasure zinged through her anew, prompting a full-bodied moan to fall
from her lips.
“Jay!” she cried, arousal singing through her blood. “More”
Smirking up at her, he plucked both of her nipples simultaneously.
“Ohh,” Talia juddered, struggling to recover enough to form a coherent
sentence. “I want everything. I want to feel you inside me.”
The look he gave her was predatorial. “You want everything I can give
you?”
Biting her lip in anticipation, Talia nodded.
Jay leant back on his knees, taking a moment to observe her beneath him,
his eyes darkening with appreciation. He brought his hands up to undo his
shirt buttons, slowly revealing the tanned skin beneath. “Spread your legs
for me.”
There was a flicker of self-consciousness there, but his snarl of hunger
quickly overwhelmed it.
Talia couldn’t hold back her own, if she was honest. She knew Jay was
strong by the way he’d hoisted her into his arms like she was weightless,
but when he undressed, revealing the heavy brawn beneath his shirt…
 When he freed his thick cock from his trousers, there was no holding
back her gasp. Jay stroked his hard, veined length with a sly smile. “They
mentioned there were condoms in here somewhere, but I didn’t bother to
listen. Do you—?”
She waved his question away. “Unnecessary. I’m clean.”
He widened her legs, spreading her pussy lips to expose her further.
“Contraception?”
Rather than explain her long and depressing medical history, Talia
nodded. “All taken care of. Lux required it.”
Talia’s breath hitched when she felt his cock swiping through her
slickness. Jay leant over her, holding his weight on a single elbow. The feel
of him above her was intoxicating, and she couldn’t resist dragging her
hands over his chest, humming her approval.
The raw power in this man was undeniable, and she wanted everything he
could give her.
Jay held her eyes as he notched himself at her entrance, his hips pushing
forward.
She gasped at the slow slide of his cock. The sensation was utterly
foreign—before a sharp pinch had her gasp changing from pleasure to pain.
His brows furrowed in an instant, eyes widening in alarm. There was a
moment of fraught silence before he spoke. “Tell me I didn’t just take your
virginity in a fucking sex club.”

OceanofPDF.com
 6

Jensen

J
ensen looked down in horror at Talia. Immediately, he pulled away. He
couldn’t do this—Christ, he’d forced a virgin onto a fucking Sybian until
she was screaming out her orgasm.
But Talia held on tight, locking her legs around his hips to keep them
joined. “Wait,” she whispered, struggling to keep a hold of him. “Please.
Don’t ruin my first time.”
“I wouldn’t have touched you if I’d known you were a virgin, Talia.” He’d
have paid the auction price and escorted her straight out of Lux itself.
“Just stop moving. Please.”
Reluctantly, he stopped trying to retreat. Loosing a breath, he let his
forehead rest against hers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her long red hair spilled onto the pillow beneath her, styled in artful curls.
“I thought you already knew. That was why I was dressed in white instead of
gold. That was the point of the auction.”
Revulsion churned in his gut, and Jensen found himself even more
disgusted with the men who’d lusted after her out on the main floor.
Perverts. Predators.
You lusted after her too, an unhelpful voice reminded him.
Jensen shook his head, glancing to the side—to the discarded white gown.
White, because she was virginal, he realised.
But then she looked up at him with those deep hazel eyes. “Don’t ruin my
first time, Jay. Please.” Her hand touched his cheek, rasping against his
stubble. “I wanted it to be you because I trusted you not to hurt me.”
Clenching his jaw, he pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. “I never
would,” he admitted. “I never could.”
Talia gave him a tentative smile.
“But I would have been gentler with you had I known it was your first
time.”
Her eyebrow hitched up in a flirtatious little move. “I wouldn’t change a
thing. Even the footrest.”
The tension in the room shattered as his laughter filled it. “I love that you
thought it was a footrest.”
“What else would it be?”
“It’s called a Sybian. A ridable, vibrating sex toy, effectively, although that
one looks to be customised.” Jensen smirked down at her. “You can even get
attachments for it.” She clenched around his rapidly re-hardening cock. “You
like the sound of that, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” she admitted.
“Then do me a favour and treat yourself to one with the auction money.”
Jensen gave her a slow, sensual kiss. “And maybe you can think of me when
you use it.”
Talia bit her lip, her breath hitching. “Maybe I will.”
That made him grin, but it loosened beneath a worrisome thought. “Are you
in pain? If you’re too sore to carry on, we can st—”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, the eager little minx. “More than fine.”
Jensen gave an experimental thrust, carefully watching her expression. The
lowered eyes, the relaxed exhale, the small crease of pleasure between her
eyebrows. “If we’re doing this,” he murmured, his hips working in long, slow
rolls, “we’re going to do it properly. Deal?”
Her voice was a whisper in the air, carried on the back of a moan. “Deal.”
Smirking, he captured her lips, thrusting more forcefully. Balancing on his
shoulders, her arms trembled with his movements. He brought them up past
his head and pinned them above her, enjoying the widening of her eyes. Was
she realising she liked the feeling of being pinned down?
“You’re doing so well,” he growled.
Around his cock, she clenched. She liked that too.
Jensen’s eyes darkened when Talia shifted, rising up to meet him as he
plunged his cock inside her, adoring every moan, every breath, every cry that
she gave him. Soon, he couldn’t get enough of it. Those phenomenal noises
she made when he was inside her warmth, the way her breasts bounced with
the force of every stroke.
Unable to keep his eyes off them, he bent, taking a nipple in his mouth
once more. Her hand pressed into the back of his head, spurring him on as he
worked her pale pink nipples into tight buds. Once he was satisfied, he
plucked each one between his fingers. The tight squeeze of her cunt was a
reward of its own, but he found he couldn’t get enough of her cries, striving
for more.
“Oh, god, Jay! There, there, there.”
Jensen gripped her arching hips, getting close to the edge himself. “Your
cunt was made for my cock, baby girl, wasn’t it?”
Talia still had her arms above her head, her fingers clenched deep into the
pillow. “Yes!”
“Your cunt is all mine.” Fuck, he’d never seen the appeal of that before, but
at this very moment in time he couldn’t have wanted anything more, claiming
her body with brutal, animalistic thrusts, the room practically shaking around
them.
“All yours,” she echoed, beginning to pant.
“Good. And you know what would make me proud of you?”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
Holding back his climax, Jensen shifted his left hand from her hip to her
throat, holding her in place. “If you come on my cock like the good girl you
are.”
She didn’t hold back her shocked gasp, but there was no hiding the orgasm
that followed it. Talia cried out her pleasure, and Jensen stopped holding back
his. He drove his cock deep inside her, roaring out in ecstasy as she wrung
every ounce of seed from his body.
In the aftermath, Jensen found Talia gazing up at him with soft eyes and an
even softer smile. “Jay,” she sighed.
Jensen palmed her cheek, his chest heaving with the myriad emotions
swarming inside it. He lowered his head, his lips finding hers somewhere
amidst his body filling with feelings of possession and exhaustion and need.
Because he’d need her again before the night was through, and they both
knew it.
 In the hours before the morning light, Jensen found himself kissing the
elegant lines of Talia’s neck as the water soothed their aching muscles. The
bath was more than big enough for two, and god knows they both needed it
after the night they’d had.
“Are you sore?” he asked her, enjoying the relaxed sigh that travelled up
her chest.
She shrugged, turning round to face him. Her auburn curls were hidden
from view, safely contained in a cotton headwrap to protect them whilst she
slept. “A little. But nowhere near as sore as I could have been.”
Jensen couldn’t stop the pang of anger that went through him. He tightened
his arms around her protectively. “If I hadn’t come here tonight, Talia…”
“Speaking of which, why were you here tonight? You don’t seem like the
type,” Talia wondered, tilting her head, forgetting that—
His hand shot up, catching the headwrap before it fell.
“It’s not a wash day,” she’d said as they got in the bath. “I can’t get my hair
wet.”
“I was here with a business partner.” Jensen helped Talia secure the bun
back in its place, ensuring no curls were loose. “He said he’d bring me to a
private members’ club and I fancied a drink. I didn’t realise it was this sort of
club.”
Remorse weighed down her eyelids, dropping her gaze. “Two million
dollars is an expensive drink.”
Jensen cupped her cheek, careful not to let his wet fingers touch her hair.
“It was worth every penny. If two million was the cost of getting you off that
stage and away from those perverts, then I’ll pay it every day for the rest of
my life. But tonight?” He let his thumb stroke her bottom lip. “That was for
you. This is how you should be treated, Talia. Don’t ever settle for less.”
She rested her hands on his chest, their legs intertwined in the large bath.
“Thank you.”
He lifted his chin as she leant forward, meeting her soft, chaste kiss.
“Promise me you’ll never settle.”
“I promise.” But then her eyes lowered to his chest, and he knew what she
was going to ask. “These burn scars,” she began. “Do you mind me asking
how you got them?”
Doing his best not to let the memories of that day ruin this one, he smiled.
“I was in a fight when I was a teenager.”
Fight. The more appropriate word was execution.
Her eyebrow twitched. “Must have been some fight.”
“It was.” Jensen thumbed her jawline, looking for the little nick in her skin
he’d felt under his lips earlier. “And what about you? How’d you get this?”
Talia’s giggle lightened his chest, as if the weight of the world had been
lifted away, as if no one existed but the two of them—able to share soft words
in between finding bliss in each other’s bodies. “This is also a teenage battle
wound. I tried to be funny and jump off a child’s swing. I landed on my face.”
Jensen winced compassionately, stroking her cheekbones with the back of
his knuckles. He didn’t like hearing about her pain. Leaning forward, he
closed the gap between them to smooth a gentle kiss against the nick. “Don’t
be making a habit of that. I like your face how it is.”
She winked at him, the little flirt. “I’ll keep it safe just for you, shall I?”
A notification tone interrupted his reply—his smart watch. Jensen tilted it
towards him.

Gloria is out of intensive care. She’s insisting on working from the

ward. Give me some news of what’s happening over there. Nothing
stressful. I don’t want her worrying while she’s in here.

And she says to bring her back some cronuts from that place in Soho.

Aldous

“Who’s Gloria?” Talia asked.

Briefly, Jensen wondered if it was jealousy that prompted her question, but
he realised a moment later that she was simply inquisitive. “The CEO of my
company. She was in a car accident on her way to the airport. My friend and I
came in her stead.”
“Jesus. Was she badly hurt?”
“Three broken ribs and a collapsed lung, but she’s bouncing back quickly.
Before long I reckon we’re going to have trouble keeping her out of the
office. She certainly wasn’t happy to be left behind.”
Her brow twitched. “Why?”
 “She’s been working on this deal for close to eighteen months. It’s her
baby; I’m not going to let her down. We’d be acquiring a company with a vast
infrastructure that is currently underfunded and mismanaged. It’d be our
foothold into the US market—something that has been impossible to achieve
by ourselves because this company has been buying out all the competition.”
“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
Jensen smiled. “Or overthrow them.”
Talia grinned back at him, pointing to the smart watch. “Was that from your
business partner?”
“My business partner and my cousin.” And the man I killed for.
“Do you mind if I ask you what kind of business you’re in?” She glanced
down, tracing her fingers over the scars on his chest.
“You can ask me anything,” Jensen replied softly, intertwining their fingers.
“We’re in all sorts. We have a holdings company, which effectively means we
own a company that owns other companies.”
“Like a company Russian nesting doll.”
“Pretty much.”
“I’m assuming your cousin isn’t the business partner that brought you to
Lux?” Talia guessed.
“Fuck no. That was the CEO of the company we’re trying to acquire. And
he’s as much of a sexist prick as you’d expect.” A muscle in his jaw ticked,
and he couldn’t help clutching her closer. “I hate to think of what would have
happened had scum like that bought you.” Jensen couldn’t help the wave of
revulsion that twisted his lips. “Bought your virginity.”
“But instead,” Talia leant against his neck, whispering in between kisses,
“it was you.”
“Mmm,” he growled, holding her hair wrap in place as her lips caressed his
scars.
“Jay,” she bit her lip. There was a pink blush on her cheeks, her eyes
flicking down below the water level. “I’ve always wondered what it would
feel like to…”
He waited patiently, but then she shook her head. “Tell me,” he implored
her. “If it’s something I can do for you, it’s yours, baby girl.”
“It’s not so much what you can do for me, but what I can do for you.” Her
warm eyes gave him a tentative look. “Can I taste you?”
Whatever it was he’d expected her to say, it wasn’t that.
Jensen pushed the button to lift the plughole immediately, getting to his feet
with Talia in his arms. She grappled with his wide shoulders, holding on tight.
 “Now?” she gasped, giggling as he dried them both.
“Fuck yes.” He walked her backwards until her calves met the edge of the
bed. “Sit down and I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”
Talia looked up at him, her eyes fiery with arousal. Her hands moved
constantly, stroking up and down his thick thighs, but her focus quickly honed
in on the heavy length between them.
Jensen held his cock, stroking himself and savouring the sight of her like
this, naked before him. “Give me your hand. Fondle my sac gently—ahh,
that’s it. Start slow now, kiss my cock.”
His mouth opened as Talia pressed her lips against his shaft, starting with
chaste little pecks and quickly migrating to intense, open-mouthed adorations.
The sight of her below him, her sensational fucking lips against his rock hard
cock, was mind-blowing.
And then she reached the head, licking a wet line around him. Talia
gathered his pre-cum on her tongue, lapping at the opening for more.
“Do you like the way I taste?”
She nodded.
“Then open your mouth, and I’ll give you some more.”
Her immediate compliance had his cock jumping with enthusiasm. Jensen
rested his length against her bottom lip, savouring the sight of her. “Now suck
on the head for me, there’s a good girl.”
Thighs shifting, she took him into the wet heat of her mouth, moaning
around him.
Jensen glanced down past her sucking his cock to where her free hand
disappeared between her legs. “Do you want to touch yourself whilst you
suck me down?”
There was a pop as she released him. “Yes,” she begged, panting.
A slow, sensual smirk curved his lips. “I have a better idea. Get on the
Sybian.”
The look in her eyes nearly made him explode there and then. Talia rushed
to the Sybian, watching as he dragged the armchair he’d sat in earlier closer.
He sat down, cupping her face in his hands as he did so and taking her lips in
a furious kiss. “You’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect, Talia.”
Her lips were swollen by the time he released her, and he was only going to
make it worse.
She knelt between his thighs, her eyes fixated on his long, thick length,
split over the Sybian beneath her.
Smiling, Jensen turned it on.
 The low hum filled the room instantly, quickly followed by a high, thin
gasp. “Lick my cock again, baby girl. Take the head and suck.” She was
quick to obey, and he guided her head downwards, teaching her to take him
deeper each time.
The suction she created had his eyes closing in bliss, erasing his mind of
any thought except more.
Suddenly, he felt her hand on his, moving his touch to the back of her head.
His nostrils flared—because he knew what she wanted.
“Do you want me to fuck your mouth whilst you come?”
Talia moaned around his cock, and his sac tightened at the vibrations she
created.
He wondered if she knew what she was getting in for. “It won’t take me
long.”
An affirmative moan sounded once more.
“In that case,” he slid his fingers over to the Sybian’s control panel,
increasing the intensity of the vibrations. “You don’t get off that thing until I
shoot my cum down your throat. Do you understand?”
Her nod was immediate—and urgent.
Jensen took hold of her head, stroking her cheekbone. “Get ready then.”
His movements were slow to begin with, picking up the pace with each
lustful moan she gave him. Talia was leant over him, her hands clawing into
his hips.
But then he moved faster and faster, until she was choking on his cock and
screaming out in ecstasy, her hands pulling him closer with every stroke, as
though she couldn’t get enough.
He would remember the sight for the rest of his life. Talia lost to her
desperate desire; she was stunning to watch, and he was going to commit
every second of tonight to memory.
The hot, wet rapture of her mouth was too good for him to last.
Jensen came with a snarled groan, shooting jets of his thick, white seed
down her throat as her climactic scream drowned out even him. The waves hit
them both simultaneously, and they rode them together, making long, lustful
sounds. He would never, never forget how she looked. Tears streamed down
her face, but her eyes never left him, even in the depths of her pleasure.
They never left him… and he never wanted them to.
As soon as her fingers scrambled for the control panel, Jensen lifted her up
and cradled her in his lap. Wiping the excess seed off her face, he kissed her.
She tasted of him, but he didn’t give a shit. He needed more of her, even
when they were both spent and exhausted with pleasure.
They’d agreed to a night.
But as morning approached, he had no intention of letting her go.

The buzzing of his phone ripped him from sleep.

Jensen rolled his head to the side, blindly reaching for his phone on the
bedside table. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the bright screen. Evan
Whitmore, the caller ID told him.
It also told him it was half five in the morning.
The last thing he wanted to do was answer, but they needed Whitmore…
for now.
“What?” Jensen whispered hoarsely. He closed his eyes, letting his cheek
rest against Talia’s head. She hadn’t moved once. He’d exhausted her, poor
thing.
And she’d exhausted him.
“Stone,” Whitmore said easily, displaying none of Jensen’s morning rasp.
“I’ve managed to secure a last minute meeting with the chairman of the board
this morning. He’s got an hour before catching his plane to speak to you. I
know you were keen to—”
“When?”
“Thirty minutes. Max.”
Jensen let his head fall back on the pillow, clutching Talia tighter. For
fuck’s sake. “Is this the only time he can speak?”
“Yessir, he won’t be back ‘til after you return to London.”
Giving a grunt, Jensen relented. “Send me the location and I’ll be there.”
With the greatest amount of reluctance.
Ending the call, he slipped out of Talia’s embrace when all he wanted to do
was pull her closer. But if he could speak to the chairman of the board, they
might be able to agree on a price for the company.
“Baby girl?” he murmured, stroking Talia’s shoulder. “I have to go.”
There was no response but slow, gentle breathing, her pace utterly
uninterrupted.
 Smiling to himself, he kissed her forehead and climbed out of bed. As he
dressed, his lips curved of their own accord—especially when he looked back
at her.
Fuck, I want her in my bed at home like that.
Naked. Exhausted with pleasure. Smelling of sex.
He searched the room for a pen and some paper, eventually getting lucky in
one of the drawers. Scribbling out a short note, he left that and his business
card on the bedside table next to her. Sighing, he looked upon her tenderly,
making one last attempt to wake her before tucking her in tightly, kissing her
goodbye, and leaving the room, sending her one final look before he closed
the door.
Talia,
I had a last minute meeting thrown in my lap. Tried to wake you but you
didn’t stir.
Call me when you wake up. I’d like to take you out to dinner tonight—
somewhere that you deserve, not somewhere like this.
I hope you’re not sore. Let me pamper you this evening, baby girl.
Jay

OceanofPDF.com
 7

Talia

A rough shake of her shoulder tore her from sleep.

“You need to wake up.”
Talia grumbled, rolling onto her back and peeling her eyes open—only
for them to be blinded by the window opposite. Had Jay opened the
curtains?
“Hey, you need to wake up. Anna said the cleaners need to get in here.”
Quinn’s face came into view—his expression awkward. He frowned at her,
his eyes valiantly attempting to stay on her face.
And then she realised she was naked. She gave another grumble, tugging
the covers up to conceal her breasts. Frowning, she looked around.
“Where’s Jay?”
Quinn seemed just as confused as she was. “Is that the guy that bought
you? He left like an hour ago.”
For a moment, she stopped breathing.
The veil of sleep well and truly slipped away then, and she sat up. “Wait,”
she whispered, her expression stricken. “He’s gone?”
She looked around the room, but Quinn was right. It was so… empty
without Jay, as though he’d transformed it into something warm and
homely with his presence. And his absence had somehow left the room even
colder than it had been before he’d arrived.
 He hadn’t made her any promises, but she thought they’d struck up a
friendship during the course of it. She’d given him her virginity, and he
couldn’t even be bothered to give her a proper goodbye.
“Yeah, I saw him leave, but I’ve brought you your overnight bag. Anna
also sent a cup of chamomile tea for you,” he grinned, nodding towards the
bedside table. “She knows you British people love tea, and she said the
security cameras picked up screaming in the night. It’ll help with your
throat.”
Talia didn’t know whether to be embarrassed about the fact she’d been
overheard or annoyed that no one even came to check she was okay.
Because they didn’t give a shit.
She picked up the tea from the bedside table, accidentally slopping a bit
over the edge. “Bugger,” she muttered, searching around for something to
wipe it up with and coming up empty.
“Don’t worry,” Quinn waved a hand, heaving her overnight bag onto the
bed. “The cleaners will get it. But come on, we can’t be in here long now
the client has left.”
The lukewarm tea did help with her throat, but it didn’t touch the empty
pain in her chest.
He hadn’t even said goodbye.
That hurt more than anything. Ignoring the sinking in her gut, Talia
dressed quickly, taking a sad look back at the room in which she’d lost her
virginity before Quinn led her to the manager’s office.
The manager was waiting for her with a satisfied smile on his face. “This
is for you,” he said, handing her a cheque. His blond hair was in a tightly-
coiled manbun today, accentuating his cheekbones. “It was a pleasure doing
business with you, Miss Llewellyn.”
Talia stared down at the paper, running her thumb along the edge. It
certainly didn’t feel like it was worth $1.5 million. It almost felt like
nothing at all. “Likewise,” she murmured vaguely, ignoring the sinking
feeling in her heart.
“For safety reasons, I suggest your next destination be your bank,” he
carried on. “If you lose the cheque, you lose the money.”
After a few seconds silence, Quinn answered for her. “I’ll take her
straight there, sir.”
“If you have any issues of a gynaecological nature, then feel free to
contact Anna.” He handed her a business card. “Part of your contract
includes ongoing medical treatment for any diseases or infections.”
There was a wet, sticky feeling between her legs. Was that what she
thought it was? “Thank you.”
The manager nodded. “And let me know if you’d like a more permanent
position at Lux. We always have vacancies for servers.”
Those girls wearing gold robes? “I will, thank you.”
A sinking feeling filled her chest when she thought of someone else—
anyone else—touching her like Jay had done last night.
Somehow, she didn’t think anyone else could measure up against him.
Even the thought of sleeping with another man was repulsive.
Somehow, she felt like she belonged to Jay. Clearly he didn’t feel the
same. She just didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

Talia curled into a ball, drawing her knees up to her chest. She’d missed
Dad and Darcy in all kinds of ways since moving to New York, but this was
a new one.
There was no one to care for her when she was in the midst of an
endometriosis flare-up.
There was no one to fetch her a glass of water or fill a hot water bottle or
put a fan on or plug in her electric blanket or empty her sick bucket. If she
wanted it done, she had to do it herself.
Talia grumbled into her pillow pitifully, her face twisting into misery.
She’d spent the last couple of months with Quinn tutoring her for her finals
—free of charge, which had been a surprise to her. With Quinn’s help, she’d
actually been feeling confident about her chances in the exams.
And, honestly, he was nice. And funny. And charming. Was it weird that
she was friends with the guy who’d facilitated the sale of her virginity?
People met in all sorts of weird ways, right?
But then her flare-up had hit—probably due to the increased stress from
finals week approaching, and, god, had it hit hard.
She’d never felt more homesick than she was now, puking her guts up
and unable to sleep. Not that she’d admit it to anyone, but she’d cried every
night, wanting nothing more than to be back home in Covent Garden with
her family looking after her.
Her academics may have improved, but nothing else had.
Talia sniffed. Christmas wasn’t far away, and Quinn had promised he’d
take her to see New York’s Christmas sights, but there was no chance of
that now.
A few days ago, he’d insisted on dragging her out to the health centre
downstairs. Now she just had to go and get the results and, hopefully,
whatever drugs she needed to make this go away.
She grimaced at the knock on the door.
“Talia?” Quinn called, his voice drifting through the thin wood. “It’s time
to go.”
Talia responded with an indistinct groan, and she could almost see his
answering grin. Slowly, she made her way to the door, unlocking it with an
audible clunk and pulling it open. “Gimme a sec,” she mumbled, not even
bothering to look at him. “Need to lock up.”
Quinn leant in the doorway, phone in hand, watching her unplug her
electric blanket. “How’re you feeling today?”
Her dead-eyed stare was enough of an answer.
Talia joined him at the door, stumbling out into the deserted corridor. In
any other circumstance, she would have been relieved that no one saw her
dressed in her pyjamas and coat, but right now she couldn’t have cared less.
The walk towards the lift was slow. Halfway down it, Talia swayed.
Lightheadedness swarmed her, and she reached out blindly to steady herself
on the wall. The stupidly long hall is the worst part, she assured herself
silently, feeling Quinn’s hand resting on her waist. Once that’s over, the
health centre is just across the square.
The square was a nightmare.
Every student studying at Columbia was here, it seemed. The lift doors
dinged open, rattling slightly. Talia slowly crept forward on a wave of
nausea, and she was pleasantly surprised by her fellow students moving
around her rather than mowing her down.
When the health centre was in sight, Quinn stopped her. “Here,” he
murmured into her ear, one hand across her spine and the other sliding
down to the back of her thighs. “Let me help.”
He lifted her into his arms with surprising ease, holding her against his
broad chest—although she narrowly avoided kicking some poor girl in the
face.
“You good?” he asked, close enough that she could see the golden
striations of his eyes.
It was a relief to finally be off her feet. A week of illness had seriously
reduced her range. “Good,” she sighed, leaning against his collarbone. Her
breath probably stank, but Quinn made no complaints.
Talia swallowed, deciding that not opening her mouth would be the best
bet—both because she was trying not to be sick and trying not to breathe
toxic fumes into her friend’s eyeballs.
A loud, shrieking wolf whistle made her jump, forcing her eyes open in
shock. They were at the health centre entrance, but her attention was drawn
to a pair of young men nearby. The left one wore a grey Columbia hoodie,
whilst the other was dressed in a beanie and a camo jacket, his jawline
sharp enough to cut steel. The latter whistled again, cupping his hands
around his mouth to shout, “Get some, Quinn.”
Now that she was off her feet, she didn’t even have the energy to snort.
After her experience with Jay, no one would be getting some any time
soon.
“Ignore them,” Quinn murmured, shouldering through the doors beneath
the HEALTH CENTER sign.
The health centre was just as packed as the square outside had been, with
the exception that all the students in here were snivelling or coughing.
Quinn deposited her in front of the check-in desk before accompanying her
over to the waiting room. It was decked out in Christmas decorations, but
Talia was feeling a world away from merry and bright.
By the time Natalia Llewellyn was called, Talia sagged against the wall
next to her, trying to concentrate on how cool it was against her skin rather
than how much she was trying not to puke all over the floor.
The nurse wasn’t the same one she saw last time, and for that she was
grateful. Instead of being brusque and abrasive, this nurse held out her arm
for Talia to take, escorting her into the nursing room.
Talia collapsed into the chair, faint and sweating. She could feel the vomit
coming, her eyes frantically searching for where to aim. Not a second too
soon, the nurse thrust a sickbag into her arms, stroking between Talia’s
shoulders as she retched so violently she was sure the blood vessels in her
eyes were going to pop.
 “There, there, sweetie,” the nurse murmured, handing Talia a tissue. “Get
it all out.”
When it was over, Talia wiped the sweat away from her forehead, letting
the chair hold her upright. Her eyes were lowered from her sleepless nights,
her remaining energy draining more and more with every breath. “Please
can I have some medication now,” she begged. “I have endometrio—”
“Actually,” the nurse interrupted, “I’d like to go over your test results, if
that’s okay.”
Feeling like death warmed over, Talia nodded. Just do it quickly before I
keel over.
The nurse smiled, as though she knew exactly what Talia had refrained
from saying. “We tested you for a variety of things. The doctor initially
thought it might have been gastroenteritis, but the test came back negative
for norovirus.”
Talia zoned in and out, focusing on the flashing Christmas tree earrings
the nurse wore. Vomiting had used all of her reserves, and her body had
apparently taken it as a sign to deflate.
“However,” the nurse said, raising her voice slightly. Talia swallowed,
attempting to concentrate. “One test did come back positive, Miss
Llewellyn.”
“Mm?” Talia mumbled, her head slowly dipping with exhaustion.
“The one for hCG. Otherwise known as the pregnancy hormone.”
Talia blinked, her eyes going wide. Adrenaline pumped through her in an
almighty rush. “Sorry?”
“You’re pregnant, Miss Llewellyn. Seven weeks or more, judging by the
hCG levels detected.”
A slap to the face couldn’t have woken her up quicker. She sat up in her
seat, the blood rushing to her head. “But I’m infertile. I was told barely a
year ago that both of my fallopian tubes were blocked. Both of them.”
The nurse looked at her, her eyes overflowing with compassion.
“Sometimes these things just happen, even when medical science suggests
otherwise.”
“But… but I can’t be.” Talia grappled with the suggestion, fighting for
purchase. “Aren’t false positives a thing? Isn’t that more likely than
someone with two blocked fallopian tubes falling pregnant naturally?”
“If we were referencing a home pregnancy test, I would agree with you
and suggest redoing the test. But this was a blood test done by a
laboratory.”
Her lips parted, and a laugh burst forth. “A year ago I was crying myself
to sleep after getting the news I’d never fall pregnant naturally.”
The nurse shared her smile. “Sometimes nature has different plans. I
noticed there was a young man sitting out in the waiting room with you,
would you like me to fetch him for you?”
“Oh,” Talia cottoned on to what the nurse was getting at. “Oh, Quinn.
He’s just a friend, he’s not the…”
Father.
Oh. Oh god.
Jay.
The father had disappeared after giving her the best night of her life…
and a child.
The father would never know he had a child.
The child would never know their father.
She clapped a hand over her mouth as the magnitude of the realisations
hit, one after another. There was no question of whether she was going to
keep the child; she was keeping it. After being told it would never happen,
how could she not seize the chance when it arose?
Except it was the wrong time. She was a year into the decade long
process of becoming a doctor.
Except it was the wrong place. She was thousands of miles away from
home, from everyone she loved, from her family
Except it was the wrong man. Because now he was nothing more than a
memory.
Somewhere in the middle, Talia dimly heard the nurse say she was going
to fetch Quinn, but by the time he entered the room, she’d made up her
mind.
She didn’t remember pulling her phone out, but suddenly she was
unlocking it, flicking through it, and hitting the call button.
“Talia,” Quinn said, crouching next to her, his face a mass of worry as he
watched her every move. “Are you okay? The nurse said—”
Talia shook her head decisively. She appreciated what Quinn had done for
her, but she’d already decided. This is what her mother had done, wasn’t it?
Put her career aside for her children. And now she had to do the same.
Perhaps she wasn’t as gifted as her mother academically, and perhaps she’d
never be a doctor, but she’d sure as shit put her child first.
 Every ring solidified her decision more and more. She was doing the right
thing.
It was a relief when he picked up.
“Nattie-bun,” Dad said, his voice as warm and comforting as a blanket
settling over her.
“Hey Dad,” she whispered, attempting to keep her nerves out of her
voice.
“Are you okay, cyw?” Dad said instantly; his native Welsh always came
out when he was worried. “What’s wrong?”
Of course he knew. He’d always known whenever anything was wrong,
and she loved him for it.
“I need your help.” She paused to swallow the lump in her throat, but he
didn’t wait for the rest.
“What do you need? Do you need me to come over?”
She couldn’t say it normally, so she settled for a whisper. “I need to come
home. I’m pregnant.”
Quinn’s dark eyes bugged, his jaw dropping.
Dad didn’t so much as pause. “Don’t worry, cyw. I’ll be on the next plane
out of Heathrow. You don’t need to worry about a thing. I’ll take care of
you. I’ll take care of you both.”

OceanofPDF.com
18 Months Later

OceanofPDF.com
 8

Talia

T here was less than an hour to go until the wedding, and Talia was
nowhere near ready.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” she murmured to herself in the toilet stall,
rifling through the changing bag like a thief in a jewellery shop. She’d been
lucky with breastfeeding—there had been no major mishaps. In the early
days after Felix’s birth, it had taken her a few weeks to set a pumping
schedule.
But now that she was attempting to wean him, her son and her breasts had
ganged up on her, and they were creating havoc.
She was leaking through breast pads like there was no tomorrow. She’d
rushed into the toilets as soon as she’d noticed, stuffing toilet paper down
her bra like she was a thirteen-year-old girl.
I’m going to have two wet spots over my breasts in the wedding
photographs.
The door into the toilets squeaked open, and she held her breath.
“Talia,” Quinn’s voice came. A rush of relief swept over her. “You all
good in there?”
She threw the lock. By the time it had finished echoing, she had Quinn in
her sights. He’d stayed in New York after she’d left, giving her regular
updates on whether Jay had returned to the club.
He hadn’t.
 But a few months ago he’d come to London to do a master’s degree, and
she had been ecstatic to see her old friend on her home turf.
Dad had invited him as a guest, but she knew he’d rather be here as her
date. Sometimes, she’d catch his eyes wandering down to her lips. Or he’d
be smiling at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Talia hadn’t
forgotten their kiss at Lux, or the groan he’d made.
He wanted her. She knew he wanted her, but he hadn’t pushed it. She
respected him for that, for waiting until she was ready.
But when she thought about Jay, Talia didn’t know if she’d ever be ready.
It’ll only ever be second best, a voice in her mind whispered.
Today, Quinn was heart-throbbingly handsome in a grey suit, paired with
a blue tie and matching handkerchief. His hair was shorter than it had been
when they’d met, but his eyes seemed to have become even darker in the
months since.
She cupped her breasts to iron out any uneven edges in the toilet paper.
Quinn noted the movement, and his eyebrow raised quizzically. He
looked tired—he’d been revising for an exam for his master’s degree for
days, plus they’d had an impromptu movie marathon last night.
“I’m leaking breast milk all over myself. If it stains the fabric it is
literally never coming out. I’ll be walking down the aisle with two big
stains over my breasts.”
“The wonders of motherhood,” he drawled, picking up the changing bag
on the sink and holding it away from his body as though he was scared it
was going to bite him. “Damn, Talia. What have you got in this?” Quinn
held it out to her, full to the brim with nappies and toys and ice packs and
expressed milk. “It weighs a ton.”
She slung it over her shoulder, hoping the toilet paper wouldn’t let her
down. “Literally everything under the sun. Ready?”
Quinn gave her a wry grin and held the door open for her. “Ladies first.”
The country house was jam-packed with wedding guests, and Talia
smiled to them as she hurried past, itching to get back to her little boy. She
knew nearly all of the attendees on their side of the family, although some
of them she hadn’t seen for years.
Quite a few had asked whether she’d qualified as a doctor yet, and then
she’d had to awkwardly explain how much her life had changed over the
past few months, even though that yearning feeling inside still pushed her to
make her mark on the world, to find what it was she was going to do with
her life.
Most of them were nice about it, but she’d noticed one or two
disapproving stares coming from elderly relatives.
Others assumed that Quinn was the father, seeing as he was always by her
side. Not that he was doing much to dissuade them of the idea. The moment
people expressed a hint of disapproval, Quinn was there to back her up and
stare them down, to dare them into voicing their criticism.
Even then, it didn’t take a genius to see the truth. Felix’s eyes were the
brilliant sapphire of his father, whereas hers were hazel—and Quinn’s were
as black as night.
Not long after arriving back at Heathrow, Dad had asked her about the
baby’s father. She hadn’t wanted to admit the truth, even to him. Especially
to him.
“He doesn’t want to be involved,” she’d said, hoping he wouldn’t realise
she was lying through her teeth. “But he’s sent me some money for the
baby.”
She’d killed two birds with one stone. One: explain why the baby’s father
wouldn’t materialise. Two: explain how she suddenly had more than a
million pounds in her bank, and was buying a flat for her and Felix to live
in.
Thankfully, Dad had never questioned it.
He never knew how often she dwelt on that night at Lux, worrying at it
like an open wound, refusing to let it heal. It evoked a kind of primal
sadness in her, both because she thought she and Jay had had a connection
and because Felix would never know his father.
In those first few weeks after the auction, Talia messaged Quinn daily to
ask if Jay had returned to Lux, and her heart had broken a little more every
time he hadn’t shown up. She pretended her heartbreak was all for Felix…
But, if she was being honest with herself, she was heartbroken for herself
too.
How could she miss a man she’d spent a single night with?
Did he ever think of her? What would he think of Felix?
Talia knew the day would come when she would have to explain to Felix
who his father was, and she was dreading it already.
Sometimes, she was so melancholy about being abandoned that it felt like
a hole in her chest; other times, she wanted to rage at him for leaving her,
for not even bothering to discover they had a son together.
It was a relief when she finally entered the bridal party room.
Chaos reigned before her, and Talia caught sight of Alison sitting in her
wedding dress. Before the day was over, she would be Talia’s new
stepmother. A hair stylist was behind her, applying the finishing touches to
her hair. A half-empty glass of champagne stood on the table next to them,
alongside an army of hairclips.
Bridesmaids flittered about. Most looked like they were ready, but a
couple were still having their hair and make-up done, chatting amiably.
Talia had met them all at the hen do, but she didn’t know them well. As far
as she knew, she and Darcy were the only bridesmaids from the Llewellyn
side of the family.
The majority of the noise came from the corner of the room, where the
chattering of babies filled the air.
Talia weaved through the room’s occupants, and her little boy appeared.
“I know, sweetheart,” Kate was saying. She faced away from Talia, her
hair scooped into an elegant updo and a large muslin thrown over her
shoulder, protecting the bridesmaid dress beneath. “Your mummy will be
back soon.”
Felix saw her first, letting out an excitable squeal, his grumbling
forgotten.
“Hey cyw,” Talia exclaimed, letting the changing bag slide off her
exhausted shoulder and land on the ground with an audible thump, but her
arms weren’t empty for long. She took Felix from Kate, her heart fit to burst
when he clutched at her neck. She giggled, breathing in his familiar scent.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to him, brushing his dark hair back. He was
wearing a smart outfit for the wedding, and his pale blue tie matched the
one that Dad would be wearing. “Mummy left the changing bag in the car,
didn’t she?”
Quinn cleared his throat, with his usual supportive touch on her waist as
he passed, before leaning against the window next to them.
“Was he all right?”
Kate nodded, giving her a gentle smile. “As good as gold.”
Talia stroked under Felix’s chin. “Quite loud gold, judging by the racket
he was making a moment ago.”
“He just missed his mum. Lucie Loo has been making most of the noise,”
she nodded at Warren, who rocked their red-faced daughter in his muscular
arms, the green of her eyes startling against the colour of her cheeks. The
same green as Warren. “Felix is always good for Auntie Kate.”
Talia smiled. “Thank you for looking after him.”
Of all the bridesmaids, she had the most in common with Kate. Alison
had begun to plan her hen party more than a year ago—and Talia had been
thrilled to meet another pregnant woman her own age. In those early days
after giving birth, Kate had been a lifesaver.
“Of course,” Kate waved a hand. “Darcy has been here most of the time
as well. She’s just popped out to the loo.”
Panic flared into her eyes as she remembered the ticking time bomb in
her bra. “I do need help, as it happens.”
“What’s up?” Kate asked.
Talia didn’t hesitate. Kate had seen her in the disposable mesh underwear
the hospital had given her; they’d crossed the barrier of dignity a long time
ago. “My breasts have soaked through all the pads I packed,” she
whispered. “I don’t suppose you have any on you?”
She knew Kate’s daughter Lucie had never latched, but it didn’t hurt to
ask.
Kate shook her head. “I don’t, I’m sorry. But… nappies would work,
right?”
“Nappies?” Talia tilted her head.
“We cut them into boob shapes or, worse case scenario, we just fold them
inside out and stuff them in your bra. You stay here with Felix,” Kate patted
her shoulder as she passed. “I’ll hunt some scissors down.”
Whilst Kate was gone, her partner Warren settled his broad frame in the
armchair Quinn stood behind. Warren and Kate’s daughter Lucie lay on his
chest, her chubby cheek resting on his shoulder, her lashes clinging together
with tears. Lucie’s dress was the same pale blue as Felix’s tie, her bare toes
poking out from beneath the hem.
Warren smiled at her, his emerald eyes peeking out beneath his dark hair.
If she didn’t already know he’d spent a decade in prison, she never would
have guessed; he looked as respectable as any other man here. He raised his
voice to be heard. “Everything okay?”
Talia nodded. She hoped Kate knew how lucky she was to have a partner
like Warren. If Kate had seen Talia at her most vulnerable moments, well,
Warren wasn’t far behind.
 When she’d attempted to put on her Big Girl Pants and put Felix’s cot
together herself, only to end up crying on the floor in a heap, her pregnant
belly enormous, surrounded by screws and a row of slats on the wrong side
of the wood, it had been Kate she’d vented to.
And half an hour later, Warren had knocked on her door with a toolbox in
hand.
She didn’t have a crush on Warren by any means—although fuck that
man was gorgeous, with his dark smiles and the soft looks he only bestowed
upon his wife and daughter—but Talia envied the dynamic between Kate
and Warren. The way one could take over for the other, and the way they
supported each other. They’d loved each other since they were children, so
of course they’d be in sync. Of course they had an unshakeable bond
between them.
Even if Kate’s father had been the one responsible for Warren’s
imprisonment.
Still, Talia didn’t like to impose too much on her father or Darcy, and
Quinn was always busy with his master’s degree.
When it came down to raising Felix, everything was on her shoulders.
“Weaning troubles,” Talia said gently, rubbing her hand on Felix’s back.
He’d calmed down now, his breathing soft and even. Poor Lucie was still
coughing out cries. “On my end, not hi—” She blinked as a pair of scissors
was brandished in her face.
“Ta-dah,” Kate said, plonking her arse down next to Talia and rifling
through her own baby bag. Darcy appeared behind her, taking a seat on
Talia’s other side. “I don’t think we’ve got long left until the ceremony.
Have some of my extra ones; we’re staying overnight so I packed enough
for an army.”
“Thank you so much,” Talia said gratefully, passing a snoozing Felix to
Darcy’s eager arms, taking over the cutting until she’d de-winged enough
nappies to last her the day, and sneaking away to the changing room.
The changing room was empty, thankfully, and she locked the door
behind her. The last thing she needed was for a member of Alison’s family
to walk in and see her stuffing nappies into her dress.
She did a last minute check of her appearance. Her curls—thank god—
had complied today. She’d moved her wash day to last night, crossing her
fingers and hoping for the best.
 Her risk had paid off in the form of bouncy red curls full of life instead of
the snarled mess she’d been dreading.
Five minutes later, she exited the changing room, but the hubbub had
only grown—including Lucie’s cries. Alison was talking to the registrar,
filling out paperwork with a quick hand. The bridesmaids from Alison’s
side of the family were crowded round her, almost drowning out the roar of
a motorbike outside.
Over by the window, Daisy chatted to Quinn, rocking Felix in her arms.
Warren and Kate, on the other hand, were still trying to console their little
girl. She made her way over, feeling much more secure with her nappy-
padded breasts. Secure, but ridiculous.
“Was that the last pack?” Kate was saying, shouting to be heard over
Lucie’s bawling. “The teething gel should be in the pocket with the zip.”
“That was from the pocket with the zip,” Warren replied, grimacing at a
thick gel on his hand, the open changing bag before him. “It’s gone bloody
everywhere.”
“Go and wash it off,” Kate pressed the back of her hand to her forehead,
shifting from foot to foot and rocking Lucie.
Silently, Talia headed for her own changing bag, rustling through until
she found what she needed. “Here,” she approached Kate, holding out the
tube. “I have some.”
Kate’s eyes lit up with relief. “Oh thank god. I’ve never loved anyone
more.”
Laughing, Talia spurted a healthy dose onto her finger and applied it to
Lucie’s gums. “Don’t let Warren hear you say that.”
“I think he’d agree with me, to be honest.”
Wiping her hands clean with a wet wipe, Talia pulled out one of the ice
packs she used to keep her breast milk cool, wrapping it in a bit of muslin.
“She can’t chew this, but you can hold it against her cheek.”
“You’re a lifesaver. Doesn’t Felix need any of the teething gel?”
“Oh it’s not for him, it was for me. My wisdom tooth was playing up a
few weeks ago. Do you want me to take her for a little bit? You look
stressed.”
“Would you? I’m busting for a wee.”
Talia hefted a grumbling Lucie into her arms, the poor little bub still
hyperventilating. “There we go, come and sit with Auntie Talia for a bit.”
She held the muslin-covered ice pack to Lucie’s cheek, wiping away her
tears. “Tooth pain is horrible, isn’t it cyw?”
After settling on the armchair, Lucie quietened significantly, interrupted
by little hiccups as the minutes went by, until her eyes began to close,
slumped against Talia’s shoulder.
Talia slowly stroked up and down Lucie’s back in calming waves, her
mind a million miles away.
Until someone kissed the top of her head, swiftly followed by a, “Hello,
gorgeous.”
Before she could register what had happened, a man walked around to the
front of the armchair, stopping short when he caught sight of her face.
“Oh,” he said, clearly as bewildered as she was.
Talia raised an eyebrow tartly. “Was I not as gorgeous as you hoped?”
If anyone was gorgeous, it was him. His hair was neatly coiffed, but his
bright amber eyes were full of mischief.
He grinned. “My apologies. I thought you were Kate, what with Lucie
and everything.”
“Kate?” Talia’s eyebrow quirked incredulously. “My hair is a completely
different colour.”
“Hair dye is a thing.”
“Fair enough,” she stroked Lucie’s back. “I’ll forgive you. I’m one of
Euan’s daughters. Talia.”
His amused smile grew as he sank into the armchair opposite, stretching
out his long limbs. “It’s lovely to meet you, step-sister. I’m Rhys.”
“Oh!” she smirked, understanding the joke. “You’re one of Alison’s
sons.” Darcy had mentioned meeting them at Alison’s birthday party when
Talia was in New York.
“The better looking one.”
That wasn’t difficult to believe.
“Better tempered as well, come to think of it,” Rhys said, pulling out his
phone, “but don’t tell him I said anything.”
Talia leant her head against Lucie’s with a smile. “My lips are sealed.”
She looked up as Quinn came to sit on the arm of the chair she was in,
“Everything okay?”
“Just came to see if you needed anything,” Quinn murmured, his rich
aftershave washing over her.
 “Actually, could you get me my phone? It’s in my changing bag over
there.”
He fetched it for her, coming back to rest on the arm of the chair.
Talia thanked him, unlocked it, and handed it back. “Can you just write a
note that Lucie had the teething gel at quarter to eleven? She can only have
so much in a single day.”
“Sure,” he nodded, typing it out. “You have a text from Mia too.”
Her tenant. With the money from Jay, she’d bought two flats in Covent
Garden; the one she lived in, and another to rent out. She’d had an influx of
tenant applications after putting the second one on the market—mostly
from working professionals. But after trudging through the applications,
she’d settled on a young couple expecting their first baby, and in the months
since Mia had become one of her closest friends.
Although not so much her partner.
“What does she say?”
“‘Good luck with bridesmaiding today,’” Quinn answered, but then he
stared at the phone quizzically. “The one above it says Reggie had a
blowout last night. Isn’t Reggie her baby? How did he have a—?”
“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t mean what you think it means,” she
grinned to herself. Poor, innocent Quinn. Talia wondered what it was like
never having changed a nappy. Life must be so simple.
“Holy shit,” Warren entered their little sitting area, his hands washed
clean of exploded teething gel. “You finally got her to calm down.”
“I don’t blame her,” Talia said, carefully transferring Lucie to Warren’s
arms. “When my wisdom tooth was playing up I wanted to rip the bloody
thing out myself. I can’t imagine all of my teeth being that painful. She
must be exhausted.”
“I know. Thank you for helping, Talia. My poor princess,” he whispered
in Lucie’s ear, as Talia strategically placed the flat ice pack between his
shoulder and Lucie’s cheek. “After the ceremony I’ll drive down to the
nearest chemist to stock up on teething gel.”
Rhys and Warren struck up a conversation about their business, so Talia
left them to it. By the looks of the rest of the room, everyone was ready to
go.
She joined Darcy in the corner and brought her up to speed on the breast
pad leakage, surreptitiously checking for any signs of dampness. “Do you
think I’m leaking?” she whispered, feeling Quinn shadowing her footsteps.
 “There’s nothing, you’re good,” Darcy replied, her voice equally quiet.
“And we can leave the changing bag and nappies in here, so we don’t have
to lug it around with us.”
“Perfect,” Talia said, chucking Felix under his chin. “You need to be fed
soon, cyw.”
From behind, the head bridesmaid called them over, sweeping them into
an orderly line with Alison at the helm. Non-bridesmaids were ushered out,
and Talia gave Quinn a smile as he departed. Warren too was given his
marching orders, Lucie still snoozing in his arms, but stopped off to take
Felix from Darcy in his spare hand. “Go and see Bampi for a bit, Felix,”
Talia said, waving him off.
Kate turned around. “Who’s Bampi?”
“Bampi is Welsh for granddad,” Darcy replied.
Weighed down with infants, Rhys gave Warren a double take at the door.
“Where did that one come from?” he asked, pointing at Felix.
Talia lifted her hand. “He’s mine.”
Rhys nodded, frowning slightly at Felix.
Music came from the room next to them, gradual, gentle, and serene.
Pachbel’s Canon, Talia knew, because she and Darcy had helped Alison
select from a seemingly infinite number of songs to walk down the aisle to.
Up ahead, Rhys offered Alison his arm, and Talia couldn’t help
wondering where Alison’s other son was. “Ready, Mum?”
Talia didn’t catch her response, but their little trail of ducklings moved, so
she assumed it had been a yes.

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 9

Jensen

A twindows
the altar, with the light of the morning flooding in through the gigantic
behind her, the registrar raised her voice. “All rise for the
bride.”
Jensen stood, his movements identical to that of the hundred people
behind him. From his position in the front row, his view of his aunt was
blocked, but he caught Aldous’s eye next to him. “You alright, mate?” he
asked, his voice low.
Aldous nodded, his brows drawn together and his jaw clenched,
steadfastly ignoring the corridor Alison had strategically placed him next to.
His cousin wouldn’t take the chance to escape, Jensen knew. Even though
crowds would send Aldous into a panic attack, he’d choose to suffer in
silence.
But didn’t they all, in one way or another?
Alison, his aunt, suffered in silence when her husband—soon to be her
first husband—was abusive, choosing to stay with him for the sake of their
children.
Jensen was no stranger to the concept, choosing to stay away for the good
of another.
The University of Columbia.
That was where she was. She’d told him as much.
 The slow chords of the song filled him with a loneliness he rarely allowed
himself to dwell on. Jensen had left Talia everything she needed to contact
him, and she never had.
It didn’t take a genius to understand her message, he thought dully,
staring at the long drapes hanging from the exposed ceiling beams.
He almost smiled when he thought of her, of how she was doing. He
hoped Talia was happy, truly. They were at different stages of their lives;
she was a student, and he was a fucking forty-one-year-old businessman.
But sometimes, in his weakest moments, he wondered if she ever thought of
him.
As Alison stepped beneath the white and blue roses weaved around the
altar, Jensen turned to Aldous. A bead of sweat dripped down his cousin’s
temple, and his heart broke.
Alison may have given her youngest son an out in the form of a corridor,
but she’d also placed Jensen on Aldous’s other side.
If there was anyone that Aldous would let touch him, let comfort him, it
was Jensen.
He held out his hand, almost willing Aldous to take it. Like they had
when they were younger, before everything had happened. Before it had all
gone wrong.
To his surprise, Aldous took it, clenching it tight.
“I have you,” Jensen whispered. “I always have you. You’re safe.”
“Please be seated,” the officiant’s voice came.
They obeyed, but Jensen didn’t release Aldous’s hand. As much as he
wanted to watch Alison get married, Aldous needed him more.
Silently, they worked through Aldous’s breathing exercises, one round
after another.
Don’t slip into a panic attack, I’m here. You’re safe. No one’s going to
hurt you. Not like before.
Jensen had killed for him once, and he’d do it again.
He barely heard Alison’s vows, or Warren’s daughter Lucie babbling on
the other side of the room. It wasn’t until clapping sounded that he realised
the ceremony was over.
As Jensen stood, Aldous pulled his hand away, beating a quick exit down
the corridor. He’d need time, Jensen knew. Finally turning towards the
front, Alison and Euan, her new husband and Jensen’s closest friend, had
already walked back down the aisle and out of sight.
 Clapping along with the rest of the congregation, he thought back to
when he first met Euan. The Welshman had been referred over by a friend,
needing funding to expand his property business. They worked well
together, and had become good friends in the process. Euan was a decade
older than Jensen, but them both being older meant they were often in the
same frame of mind. They both valued caution in their business dealings;
neither of them would take a high risk investment with a barge pole,
regardless of the potential rewards. He’d had no idea that a couple of years
later he’d be—
He blinked as a flash of red hair crossed his vision.
His heart stopped.
That couldn’t have been who he thought it was, trailing down the aisle
after Alison and Euan with the rest of the crowd.
Jensen shouldered past Rhys, cutting through the horde of guests. The
happy couple had stopped in the entrance hall outside, besieged by well-
wishers, but none of them had the red hair he was looking for.
He turned, catching sight of a red-haired woman swiftly making her way
down the corridor and into the room assigned to the bridal party.
She let the door drift shut after she walked through it, but Jensen darted a
hand out to catch it before it could close, his footsteps silent as he entered
the room.
The bridal party’s room was a mess of cosmetics and clothes, with
discarded slippers littering the floor. White satin dressing gowns were slung
over the backs of the chairs and sofas, illuminated by the sunlight streaming
in through the large windows.
It was empty, save for the two of them.
Not that long ago, he’d walked into a room just like this. Thousands of
miles separated the two, but just like before, she was looking down as he
entered. Unlike last time, though, she was fully clothed, wearing a dark blue
dress that clung to her like a second skin. Half of her long red hair was
pulled back from her face, whilst the rest tumbled down her back in casual
ringlets.
For a moment, he said nothing, finally drinking in the sight of her.
The one that got away.
“Talia,” he breathed.
She jumped, their eyes connecting—before hers blew wide, every bit as
stunned as she was. “Jay?!”
 He’d never seen her in the light of day. The tepid New York sunrise
hadn’t even begun when he’d kissed her farewell, assuming she would
contact him when she woke.
And he’d waited. And waited.
Until eventually he realised that his quiet farewell that morning had been
final.
Until today.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, resisting the urge to pull her close
and never let her go.
“I… ” Talia paused before replying, refusing to pull her gaze away from
his as it hardened. The Talia he’d met before had been full of fear, but this
one stood before him with a spine of steel. “What do you think? I’m
attending a wedding. Why are you here?”
“I think you can probably guess,” Jensen replied, his words tinged with
amusement. “How is university going? You’re at Columbia, aren’t you?”
“I was.” She looked away, pursing her lip to the side. “How did your…
er, business deal go? Did you get what you wanted?”
He laughed, a rush of relief at having her in front of him. How could it be
that he barely remembered the details of the business deal, but every
moment of their encounter had been branded into his mind? “I did.
Although Gloria, our CEO, is still angry at me for not pushing the price
down even further.”
“She was in an accident, wasn’t she?”
“She was. All recovered now. Back on her throne, as she likes to say.”
Talia’s lips tightened. “I’m glad to hear.” She cleared her throat. “While
you’re here, there’s actually something I nee—”
Behind him, the door opened. A young woman walked in, wearing the
same blue dress that Talia. Now that he thought of it, hadn’t the bridesmaids
been dressed in blue? The woman spared him a quick glance, but quickly
walked past, a baby on her hip, grumbling unhappily. “I’m sorry,” she said
to Talia. “He’s hungry, and when you didn’t come back—”
“I understand,” Talia nodded, her gaze darting from the woman to Jensen.
She took the baby in her arms, throwing a square of fabric over her
shoulder, her movements as smooth as if she’d done it a thousand times
before. After rustling around in the bag at her feet, she quickly secured a bib
around the baby’s neck before holding out a small pouch of food. The
baby’s hands quickly grabbed at it.
 Jensen could only see the back of the baby’s head, but something glued
him to the spot as he watched, his heart beginning to race.
The other woman lowered her voice, side-eyeing him. “Do you want to
come with me? Or would you like me to stay?”
Talia shook her head, refusing to look in his direction. She held the baby
tight to her chest. “You go. I’ll be fine.”
As the other woman left, the only sound was the baby’s low gurgling.
Dates swirled around his mind, filling him with outright panic. “Talia,”
he croaked, his slow advance bridging the gap between them, until he was
close enough to touch her. “Whose baby is that?”
Her voice was a whisper, but she still wouldn’t look at him. Her arms
were locked around the child, her hand on the back of his head. Brown hair.
He has brown hair. “He’s mine,” she answered, her neck oddly stiff.
Fear flashed through him. He’d replayed every second of their night
together in his mind a hundred times over. “I thought you couldn’t—”
Talia touched the baby’s cheek, her gaze heavy with a mother’s love. “So
did I.”
He hadn’t voiced it, but his question lingered in the air all the same.
In slow increments, she loosened her grip, allowing the baby to turn his
head around, taking in the room around him—and Jensen.
His own eyes looked up at him, bright and curious.
“Talia,” he croaked, his voice breaking in time with his heart. His eyes
burned with emotion, but he did nothing to stop it. The tears fell,
disappearing into his neat stubble. “Why did you neve—?”
The little boy reached towards Jensen with his free hand.
Jensen took it.
A wave of emotion shook his shoulders as the tiny hand squeezed his
own. “He’s my son.”
It wasn’t a question.
Talia’s voice was small. “He is.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” a familiar voice asked from the open
doorway—one Jensen knew well.
The door shut with a vicious bang.
Euan approached, his expression white hot with rage—every bit of it
directed at Jensen. Another man shadowed him, his eyes dark and his scowl
even darker.
 “All this time we’ve been working together,” Euan hissed, “and this is
what you were doing behind my back.”
Jensen stepped in front of Talia and the baby—his son—and put his arm
across them. “Excuse me?”
Talia pushed his arm down, walking over to Euan’s side. “You know
him?” she asked Euan.
“I thought I did,” Euan grimaced, looking as though he was hanging onto
his anger by a thread.
The dark-eyed man put his hand around Talia’s waist, and a fiery burst of
jealousy raged through Jensen’s chest.
“Is this why you wouldn’t tell me who the father is?” Euan asked her.
“Did he take advantage of you, cyw?”
“No, Dad! Jay and I met when I was in New York.”
“Dad?!” Jensen rasped.
“Jay?” Euan’s hands clenched into fists. “Is that what he told you his
name was?”
Talia glanced at Jensen with eyes full of hurt. “Isn’t it?”
“No,” Euan shook his head. “No, it is fucking not.” He looked to the
scowling man with his arm around Talia’s waist. “The photographs will be
starting at any moment, Quinn. Take her down to the lawn whilst I have a
chat with Jay here.”
“Talia—” Jensen started, watching her walk towards the door, Quinn’s
possessive arm around her waist.
Just before it closed, she glared back at him glassy-eyed, their son tight
against her chest, still sucking on the little pouch she’d given him. “Fuck
you, Jay.”
“Talia,” he shadowed her footsteps, ignoring Euan entirely.
But Euan took his chance, his fist connecting with Jensen’s temple. He
stumbled, but he was ready for the next one, catching it in mid-air.
“I am not going to fight you, Euan.”
“You fucked my daughter without even giving her your real name.”
Euan’s voice was a snarl, his hands attempting to close around Jensen’s
throat.
“I gave her everything she needed to cont—” He dodged another punch
from his friend, wrenching away from the wall.
“And not once have you called asking about that little boy. Your son,”
Euan breathed heavily. “Do you even know his name?”
 To his everlasting shame, Jensen couldn’t give him an answer.
“I didn’t think so,” Euan sneered. “Get the fuck out of here before I have
security throw you out. And don’t ever come near my family again.”

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 10

Talia

Q
uinn led her through the rest of the day in a daze. She stood for the
family photos on the stone steps in front of the country house, hoping
no one would notice the tears slowly slipping down her cheeks. She
didn’t register what she ate for dinner, plastering on a fake smile when it
came time for the speeches. But by the evening, Talia couldn’t fake it
anymore.
When her father came to bid her farewell, she couldn’t meet his eyes.
At least the last time Jay—or whatever his real name was—had
humiliated her, it had been in private. There was no one other than Quinn to
witness her shame.
But her father witnessing it?
He may as well have broadcast it publicly.
By the time she carried Felix into her flat in Covent Garden, she was
barely holding it together. Quinn closed the door behind her, moving all of
her baby gear into the living room. “Are you sure you don’t want me to
stay?”
Talia shook her head, more silent tears wetting her face. Felix reached up,
touching her cheek. “You have no idea you met your Daddy today, do you?”
Quinn’s broad hand stroked her lower back. “That prick is nothing more
than his sperm donor, and we both know it.”
 She bent to deposit Felix on the floor, and he immediately jumped into
action, eager to stretch his limbs after being in the car for so long. He
crawled over to his current favourite toy, a colourful push walker that blared
out repetitive noises.
Her eyelashes wet with tears, she finally glanced up at her friend. “He
didn’t even tell me his name,” she said, her voice breaking.
Quinn swept her into his arms. She buried her sobs in his chest, breathing
in his aftershave and hanging on as though her life depended on it. He was
even more muscular than he had been during their time in New York, more
imposing. More attractive. “I feel like such an idiot,” she sobbed.
He cupped her jaw, tilting it upwards. “You’re not. I saw rich assholes
like him at Lux every goddamn day I worked there. They make the working
girls think they’re special and throw them away like garbage just as easy.
You weren’t the first, and you won’t be the last. Why do you think I was so
relieved to quit?”
Once Talia got a hold of her emotions, she glanced down at Felix, giving
him a watery smile. “It’s not just me though, is it? One day he’s going to
have all of these questions. How am I supposed to tell him we got left
behind like a dirty little secret?”
Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away. “My dad did the same to my
mom, did I ever tell you?”
“No,” Talia blinked.
“She brought me up in a trailer park on food stamps. I asked her the same
questions growing up. Where is he? Why did he leave? Why didn’t he want
me? Why didn’t he want her? She could tell me his first name and the dive
bar she met him in. And that he would have stayed with her if I hadn’t come
along and ruined it all. By the time I left, she hated me. I was always my
father’s good-for-nothing son. A useless, no good asshole. I was angry at
her for a long time.”
The image of a young Quinn alone and furious at the world ran through
her mind, and Talia wanted to wrap him in a hug. She was more than just
fortunate financially; she’d always known the love of a parent.
By the sounds of it, Quinn had known neither.
Talia met Felix’s bright sapphire eyes and imagined hating him, telling
him he was worthless.
A tear slipped down her cheek. Never.
 Quinn’s thumb was gentle as he wiped it away. “I still am, to tell you the
truth. Repeating the same patterns. Picking up assholes in bars and crying
when they leave her after they’ve gotten what they want. And it’s all my
fault, of course. The only man she’s ever loved was my father, and I’m the
reason he skipped town.”
She bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“You’re not like my mom, Talia. You sold yourself for a purpose.” He
shrugged. “How is that different to any other job? Construction workers sell
their strength. Academics sell their knowledge. Therapists sell their
compassion. Working girls sell their sexuality. It’s all selling your body in
one way or another.” Quinn gestured around them. “And look at what
you’ve done with the money you earned. You bought your son an apartment
to grow up in and another one to rent out to provide income for him. You’re
doing your job as his mother.”
Her lips parted in thought. Why had she never thought of it like that? He
always knows what to say. “You don’t think he’ll be angry with me?”
Quinn shrugged. “He might be. I think every child from a broken home
goes through a phase of being angry at the parent that stayed.”
Parent. The word implied that ‘Jay’ had done some parenting.
He even looked like a Jay, the bastard.
Talia’s eyes found Felix, slamming his chubby hand down on flashing
buttons. “I wasn’t expecting him to look so much like Felix.” Their time
apart had blurred her memory of his features, but seeing them side by side?
The resemblance was unmistakable.
“If my dad knows him, I wonder why he never questioned it. The
resemblance.” Talia watched Felix abandon his push walker, crawling into
the open door to his nursery in search of more toys.
“Lots of people look alike,” Quinn answered. “It doesn’t mean they’re
related. Felix was conceived in New York, so your dad probably assumed
Felix’s father was American. Plus, you told him that the father didn’t want
to be involved, so why would he question it?”
Talia let out a long exhale, weighed down by the emotions of the day. She
turned around. “I need to get this dress off. Can you undo my zipper for
me?”
His touch was muted through the fabric, but then she felt it loosening.
“Your dad asked me to keep an eye on you,” he murmured.
“I heard.”
 “I don’t like the thought of leaving you when you’re upset,” he
whispered, his voice full of conflict.
Despite her tears, Talia smiled. “You’re sweet.”
“We never talked about our kiss at Lux.” He came even closer, his
shoulders far broader than hers.
“I got pregnant after,” she reasoned, jolting at his hands on her waist.
“And then I came home.”
“I thought of you every day,” Quinn whispered. “Did you think of me?”
“Yes,” she answered truthfully. But her thoughts of him had always
included Lux as a whole—and the man she’d met there.
“I know you needed time after that asshole threw you and Felix away,” he
murmured, his breath brushing against her neck.
Pain speared into her chest at the reminder, even as goosebumps erupted
along her spine.
“But your dad wants me to take care of you,” he said again, nuzzling into
her nape.
I don’t know if I want this.
Frozen in place by indecision, she almost laughed. Somehow she didn’t
think this was the kind of taking care of Dad had in mind.
But Dad had always been a good judge of character.
Clearly she wasn’t—and that had never been clearer than today. And Dad
had had a front row seat to her idiocy. If Quinn was good enough for Dad,
then she could at least try.
Because hadn’t that been what she’d wanted to do all along? Make her
father proud?
Talia sucked in an acute breath when Quinn’s calloused hand slipped
between the open zipper of her dress, settling a featherlight touch over her
bare skin. “I’d never throw you away, Talia. You deserve more than that.”
A sharp cry came from Felix’s bedroom, and Talia darted into the nursery,
holding up her undone dress.
Felix sat amongst his toys, scrambling away from one in particular. A
large stacking cup.
“Are you okay, cyw?” Talia scooped him into her arms, checking him for
injuries.
Felix clutched at the loose fabric of her dress, looking back at the
stacking cup.
 She picked it up, and underneath it sat a small, amigurumi-style crocheted
spider. Talia laughed, “Awww cyw, did you get scared?”
He sniffed, looking at the spider distrustfully.
Talia removed the toy spider before standing in the nursery doorway,
looking out into the flat’s living room. “Thank you for driving me home
tonight, Quinn.”
He looked up from his phone, his expression unreadable. “Are you sure
you’ll be all right?”
“I’m sure.” Her answer was definitive, but there was no bite to her voice.
The day had been fraught with emotions; it was no time to be making
monumental decisions like taking their friendship to the next level. “I’ll
speak to you tomorrow, okay? I need to get Felix ready for bed.”
Quinn nodded, recognising the dismissal. “Speak to you in the morning.”
He picked up his keys from the table and made his way to the front door,
using his spare key to lock it behind himself.
Talia held it together whilst getting Felix ready for bed. His nap schedule
had been thrown out of the window, so she expected to be up most of the
night. Even so, she climbed into bed, ignoring the silk bonnet her curls
should be resting in.
She was in no mood for self-care tonight.
Finally alone, the tears quickly came once more. This time, it wasn’t
because ‘Jay’ had given her a fake name, or because he’d left without a
word the morning after, or even because she was facing the mammoth task
of raising Felix on her own.
This time, she cried because the only man she could ever see herself
wanting intimately didn’t want her back.

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 11

Jensen

T heItflames danced before him, and Jensen lost himself in them.

was rare that he used the fireplace in the living room of his Mayfair
flat, but discovering that he had a child he didn’t know about had given him
the unshakeable need to burn something—to rage at something.
Himself most of all.
He had a child he didn’t know existed. A child whose life he’d missed. A
child whose name he didn’t know.
“How could she keep this from me?” he whispered, his knuckles white
from clutching the armchair.
In the corner, Aldous poured a drink for himself, the crystal decanter
clinking against the glass. “She didn’t give you a reason?”
Jensen leant forward, his elbows on his knees and his forehead in his
palms. “No. We were talking and then Euan came in guns blazing. You
should have seen the look she gave me, Aldous…”
Shifting a cashmere throw, Aldous sat in the armchair opposite. “How old
did you say she was?”
The sounds of late night London were a low hum through the windows of
Jensen’s flat. Car headlights could be seen through the French doors out to
the balcony, the curtains still open despite the late hour. Jensen’s flat wasn’t
far from the luxury hotels, but so too was it near Hyde Park, shielding him
from much of London’s noise.
 “Early twenties.” He scrubbed his face, the abject hurt in Talia’s
expression coiling around his chest like barbed wire. “I don’t know.
However old you need to be to go to university.” It wasn’t like he’d gone;
Jensen had spent his formative years serving a decade long sentence for
murder.
“Most freshers are eighteen.” Aldous’s voice was quiet.
“Eighteen?” Jensen choked. He’d known she was a virgin, but Christ, he
thought she’d been older. In her twenties at least.
The realisation pressed him against the back of the armchair, cutting off
his airway. “I took an eighteen-year-old’s virginity, got her pregnant, and
left her to raise our son alone.”
He needed to speak the words aloud, to put voice to his sins. He needed
to be judged for them.
He’d become the type of father he despised, and the knowledge rested
heavy on his shoulders.
Aldous drew back, his face contorting in disgust, and Jensen committed it
to memory. “You took her virginity?”
He nodded, his throat jumping, the piercing blue lights of an ambulance
on the street below momentarily giving the living room an icy blue glow. “I
didn’t know until… until I was already inside her.”
“How did you even meet? You’re not exactly the type to go clubbing with
uni students,” he frowned, his jaw locked tight.
Jensen’s lips pressed together. “It wasn’t that sort of club.”
Aldous’s brow quirked. “Meaning?”
“Meaning the old CEO of Garcia-Richardson took me to what I thought
was a normal private members club, and when we got there… ” Jensen
stopped, not daring to look at his cousin. “A host announced that the auction
was beginning, and then Talia walked onto the stage, dressed in this
transparent robe that revealed her body to the crowd. And the crowd started
to bid on her.”
“They what?” Aldous’s eyes were wide with horror.
“Men who were old enough to be her fucking grandad were bidding on
her, Aldous. She looked terrified, so I outbid them. I won’t lie,” he
promised, wrapped in guilt. “I desired her, yes, but I had no intention of
fucking her. I outbid them because I thought she had been forced onto that
stage, to be sold against her will.”
Aldous downed the rest of his drink. “Sounds like there’s a but coming.”
 “But,” he conceded, “when I went into the room she’d been put in, we
spoke. She wasn’t there against her will at all, quite the opposite; she’d
applied to be auctioned off to pay her tuition fees. I went to leave… but
then she asked me to stay.”
There was a pause before Aldous answered, his gaze softening, until he
resembled the innocent boy he’d once been. “So you did.”
“So I did. And now we have a son.” His eyes locked onto Aldous’s. “I’ve
missed my son growing up, just like I missed you growing up.”
The judgement vanished, replaced by something resembling shame.
“Mum and I visited you whilst you and Rhys were in prison. We saw you
all the time.”
Jensen remembered those visits. They were cold and clinical, eternally
watched by the prison officers and surrounded by inmates. Alison had
always visited, but Aldous’s weren’t as frequent.
And Jensen didn’t blame him. Aldous had been a traumatised child who’d
lost half his family overnight.
Jensen had been thirteen when Aldous was born, and given that Aldous’s
father—Jensen’s uncle—had abandoned the family by the time Aldous was
six, Jensen was the closest thing he had to a father.
Jensen had been there for all of it.
Until he hadn’t been there at all.
“I don’t want to waste my life being separated from the people I love,”
Jensen stared into the gold and scarlet hues of the flames, flickering without
end.
He’d missed out on seeing Aldous grow up. He’d vowed never to do it
again. And yet here he was, with a son he didn’t even know the name of.
There was that shame again. Aldous looked away, as though what had
happened had been his fault. As though it had been his actions that had
destroyed their family. “I’m sorry.”
That pulled him out from the whirlpool of thoughts he’d been drowning
in.
“You have nothing—nothing—to apologise for, do you hear me?” Jensen
uttered, his voice fierce. “If I could go back to that day—the day Rhys and I
killed him—I would make the same choice every single time. Even if it
meant giving up my freedom. I may regret the time we missed, but I will
never regret wiping that evil prick off the face of the earth.”
 Brows drawn down in a scowl, Aldous changed the subject. As he always
did when they were in danger of treading too close to his childhood. “What
choice would you make with Talia?”
Jensen already knew his answer. “I wouldn’t leave the next morning. No
wonder Talia fucking hates me. She went through everything alone.
Pregnancy. Birth. Caring for a newborn. Think about how exhausted Warren
was after Lucie was born; Talia was doing the same thing on her own.”
Even if it was by choice. He shook his head. “If I had been in Euan’s
position today, I would have beat my fucking skull in.”
Because how could anyone willingly abandon their child?
With that thought came the realisation that the trajectory of his life had
forever changed in a single night.
He was a father now. He could either run from it... or embrace it.

“This is insane, you do realise that?” Aldous muttered darkly, glancing

over from the driver’s seat.
Jensen checked his phone, ignoring the emails he’d received about Euan
pulling out of their business deal.
That was a catastrophe for another day.
Tonight, he only had one aim in mind.
He’d never realised how easy it was to track a private jet before. All it
took was a quick search with the tail number of the aircraft—and as part
owner of said aircraft, he had that information readily available. “We need
to look into how to get the company jet blocked on these sorts of websites.”
“After you’ve finished making use of them,” Aldous muttered dryly.
“I’m not using them nefariously.”
Aldous scoffed. “You’re checking Talia’s father has left the country to go
on his honeymoon before breaking into her flat in the middle of the night.
In what world is that not nefarious?”
“Every time I try to have a conversation with her, she runs from it. New
York. The wedding. There is no way that woman is letting me into her flat
to talk. The moment she sees me she’ll probably call the fucking police.”
“But breaking into her home is going to change her mind on that, yeah?”
 Jensen didn’t give him an answer. Talia, it seemed, lived in a mansion
block in Covent Gardens. The red brick façade of the building was
effortlessly grand, situated on a pretty side street not far from the old
market.
Life was cruel sometimes.
“I’ve lived a mile-and-a-half from my son this entire time,” he managed
through gritted teeth. “Every day, I’ve thought of Talia in New York, and I
could have walked to her flat in twenty minutes.”
Aldous’s head turned towards him. “You thought of her every day?”
He hadn’t meant to admit to that. “I was wondering how she was getting
on at uni.” Jensen nodded at the mansion block up the street, tapping his
finger on his thigh. “But she was here the whole time, raising our son.”
“How did you find out where she lived?”
“Warren sent me her address. Apparently, her and Kate are friends.”
“Good to know Warren just hands out people’s addresses to whoever
fucking asks.”
Jensen pinned him with a stare, trying not to let his emotions show, trying
not to let the fact that Warren had got to know his son before he had affect
him. “I said I needed to drop something off at her place after the wedding.”
The deep growl of an incoming motorbike made his ears prick up, getting
louder and louder. In his rear-view mirror, he saw a single headlamp turning
onto the street, the sound cutting through the blackness of the night.
“Are you sure you trust this guy?” Aldous asked quietly, uncertainty
layered beneath the question.
Jensen didn’t blame him. Not after everything Aldous had been through.
“He was my cellmate. I know him better than I know myself.”
“But do you trust him with your son?”
His hand stilled halfway through opening the door.
“He’s a convicted criminal,” Aldous muttered.
Jensen glanced back at his cousin before getting out of the car. “So am I.”
Behind them, the biker was pulling off his helmet to reveal a face Jensen
knew like the back of his hand. Sitting on his bike, Roman gave him a
mischievous grin, his brown hair shorter than when they’d last seen each
other. “Hey Jenny, who gave you that shiner?”
Jensen shook his gloved hand. “The father of the woman who lives here.
Thank you for coming out at such short notice.”
 Roman nodded, his lithe form encased in his black biking leathers. “I’m
beginning to see why he punched you.”
“Aldous,” Jensen began, “this is Roman. Roman, this is my cousin
Aldous.”
Before Jensen could warn him, Roman held out his hand. The movement
threw his face into the light, illuminating the vertical scar bisecting his
eyebrow, narrowly missing his eye, and ending halfway down his cheek.
Aldous didn’t move to take it, merely glancing at it with contempt.
After a moment’s silence, Roman retracted it, tilting his head to the side
and shooting Aldous a grin. “Fair enough. You do you, boo.”
Aldous ignored him. “This is a terrible fucking idea,” he hissed, glaring at
Jensen.
Roman cut Jensen off before he could respond, straddling his bike, his
elbows on the handlebars. “I can still hear you if you whisper,” he hissed
back. “It’s okay, I’d be mad all the time if my mum called me Aldous too.”
The look Aldous gave him was so sharp it could have pierced steel.
“Judging from your message, Jenny, you want me to get into that fancy
old building there.” Roman pointed at the mansion block up the road. “Am I
right?”
“I’m sorry, Jenny?” Aldous asked.
Jensen rubbed his forehead. Roman was an… acquired taste. The first
year they’d been cell mates, he’d wanted to kill the man. Nothing he
seemed to do could phase Roman, not anger, not silence, not threats, not
even—on one particularly short-tempered night—shoving him up against
the wall by his throat.
He’d gone to prison expecting to be housed with a violent sadist.
And instead every night his cell mate’s voice called up to his bunk,
“Night Jenny, love you.”
Jensen had ignored him.
Until the prison decided to move them around, and Jensen’s new cell
mate, Blake, really was a violent sadist. One that liked to hurt him in ways
that no one would notice.
Or at least he thought no one would notice.
Roman had visited Jensen’s cell one day, leaning casually against the wall
as he picked up Blake’s nasal decongestant spray, replacing it with an
identical one from his pocket. “I wouldn’t use that if I were you, Jenny,” he
said with a smile, turning to leave.
 Jensen had said nothing when Blake used it that night, or when Blake
spent hours retching into the toilet, groaning in agony. So too had he
remained silent when Blake requested painkillers from the pharmacy for
head-splitting migraines and stomach aches that had him bed-bound for
days.
It went on for a week before Jensen awoke to silence in the room, and a
cell mate that was stone cold.
Roman had moved back in the next day, giving Jensen a casual grin.
That night, his voice came from the bottom bunk like clockwork, but this
time he had a question to ask. “Did I make him suffer enough?”
Jensen swallowed, realising that his jovial, laid back cell mate was far
more dangerous than he appeared. “Yes.”
“Good. Night Jenny, love you.”
Jensen had waited for a minute before answering. “Good night Roman.”
Back outside Talia’s flat, Jensen merely shrugged at Aldous. “To my dad I
was Jay, to you I’m Jensen, and to Roman… I’m Jenny.” Returning to the
issue at hand, he nodded at Roman. “It’s a flat in that building. Number
sixty-two.”
“Gotcha,” Roman got off his motorbike, kicking the stand into place
against the asphalt. “I rode past the back of the building on my way in.
There’s a service entrance down this alleyway here. Bog standard nightlatch
on it. No cameras either.” He set off towards the alley. “You say your son
lives here?”
Jensen ignored the look Aldous was giving him. “I did.”
“Well you might want to invest in some good security. Cameras. Alarms.
The whole shebang. Want me to see when Tarik can install a security
system? Can’t have mini-Jen toddling around unprotected.”
“I’ll talk to Talia about it.” If she doesn’t throw me out of her flat the
moment she sees me.
When they came to the back of the building, Jensen saw what Roman
meant. The service entrance was far removed from the building’s front door.
Where the former was bedecked in columns and required a key card to
enter, the latter was in a dingy side street comprising nothing but
overflowing bins and puddles of dubious origin.
Roman shouldered his rucksack off, leaning against the back door’s
flaking black paint. He began rifling through it, pulling out several long,
thin instruments with little upticks on the end and looking more closely at
the lock on the door. He quickly decided on two, inserting them both into
the lock and putting his ear close to it.
Jensen had no idea what he was looking for, but evidently he found it
fairly quickly because he straightened a few moments later, turned the latch
and opened the door. The hinges squeaked, making him and Aldous wince.
The sound was loud enough to alert everyone in London, and Jensen was
half expecting a foul-tempered security guard to come storming down the
hallway.
Instead, it was empty, the automatic lighting flickering on.
“You’re really going up there?” Aldous asked, his focus switching
between Jensen and Roman.
Jensen nodded. “I’m really going up there. He’s my son, and I refuse to
lose another day.”
Aldous’s throat moved, casting a look in Roman’s direction. “I’m going
to wait in the car. Message me when you’re inside. And then I’ll leave.”
“I will,” he promised, handing over his car keys. He wouldn’t need them.
With a final nod, Aldous retreated, disappearing back down the alleyway,
his footsteps getting further and further away.
Jensen didn’t need to be a genius to figure out why his cousin didn’t want
to come in the mansion block with them.
It was because, once Jensen was inside Talia’s flat, Aldous would be left
alone with Roman. A man he didn’t know, in a place he couldn’t escape
from without Roman’s help.
“Come on,” Jensen said, clapping a hand on Roman’s shoulder.
The two of them trod carefully as they made their way into the building.
The service entrance was fairly lacklustre; it was clean, sure, but there was
little in the way of security. There was a single door in between them and
the residential corridor—and it didn’t even have a lock on it.
Roman absorbed everything, pointing out the lack of cameras. There was
a single security camera in the main reception area, but nothing other than
that.
Gritting his teeth, Jensen took note of his every suggestion. “Can you ask
Tarik how soon he’s available to install a security system?”
They eventually found number sixty-two on the sixth floor, and Roman
once again brought out his kit—and Jensen felt sick at how quickly the
front door opened.
 “Thank you,” he said quietly, seeing the first glimpses of Talia’s home
through the door.
“Anything else you need?”
Jensen shook his head, holding out his hand. “I’ll send over something
for Jasmine, yeah?” Roman wouldn’t accept a gift for himself, but he spoilt
his dog rotten.
“Sounds good. Let me know when I can meet mini-Jen.”
“Will do.”
Bidding farewell to his friend, Jensen turned back to the empty flat. He
stepped inside, closing the door behind him and silently observing the
darkness within. There was a large living area before him, framed with
cushy sofas and cushions. Baby paraphernalia could be found here and
there—a pushchair by the door, a changing mat slotted in between a sofa
and the coffee table next to it, a selection of large, colourful children’s
books piled on a table.
He took a deep breath. This was where his son lived.
It was then he realised that he hadn’t planned for an eventuality in which
Talia had already gone to bed for the night.
Before he could think of what to do, a noise came from behind one of the
doors off the living room, and his heart stopped.
It was a baby’s cry.
Jensen did what any father would do—he went to his son.
Silently, he opened the door, wondering whether he would find both Talia
and their baby behind it. His question was quickly answered; it was their
child’s bedroom.
And over in the corner was his son, wide awake and fussing in his cot.
Jensen leant over the side, smiling down at the little boy. Instead of the
smart outfit he’d been wearing for the wedding, he was dressed in a cozy-
looking sleepsuit.
The baby reached up at him.
There wasn’t a force on earth that would have stopped Jensen from taking
his son in his arms.
Somehow, he didn’t expect the boy to be so light. How could the biggest
responsibility he’d ever have weigh so little?
A nightlight allowed him to see his son clearly, his eyes red from crying
—but it made his brilliant sapphire irises all the brighter.
 Jensen couldn’t take his eyes off him, wanting to memorise everything
about this moment. The feel of his son in his arms. The innocent, trusting
way the boy clutched at him, slowly calming now he was being held. The
way the rest of the world fell away around them, and Jensen knew he would
do anything—anything—for him.
It was the least he could do.
His eyes burned with the same emotions that constricted his throat, until
tears of his own fell down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m
sorry I wasn’t there for you when I should have been.”
His son reached a clumsy hand up to his face, almost poking him in the
eye.
Jensen laughed softly, taking the boy’s hand in his. He was surprisingly
strong, his tiny fingers wrapping around one of Jensen’s own.
It was only then that he looked away from his son. He’d been so focused
on getting to the cot that he hadn’t realised what was on the wall above it.
‘Felix’ was spelt out in strong, bold blue capitals, followed by the name
‘Jay’ in a lighter, more fanciful black script.
For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
“Felix,” Jensen whispered, taking in his son all over again. “Felix Jay.
That’s your name.”
Jay.
Talia had named their son after him.
Tears threatening to spill all over again, he realised why Talia had glared
at him so hatefully at the wedding. Because she thought the name she’d
given to her son had been a lie.
“That’s what your grandad called me,” he murmured to Felix, sniffing.
“He would have been so pleased to meet you, Felix.”
Jensen smiled, finally at peace now his son was safe in his arms. “And so
am I.”

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 12

Talia

T alia’s shirt was soaked through when she awoke.

Grumbling, she checked the bed beneath her, relieved to feel that her
breast milk hadn’t leaked through to the mattress. She squinted at her
phone, the bright light almost burning her retinas to a crisp, and sighed.
It was three o’clock in the morning.
Because of course it was.
Pulling a clean shirt on and throwing the wet one into her laundry basket
with an audible slap, she made her way into the living room, intent on
going through to the kitchen and putting the kettle on. Now she was awake,
she’d never get back to sleep; she might as well get a head start on the day.
But light caught her eye as she exited her bedroom—Felix’s nightlight
spilling through his open bedroom door.
His happy gurgles filtered through as well.
That made her pause.
Children’s laughter at three in the morning. The stuff horror films were
made of.
It sparked her curiosity, however—given the child in question was hers.
What was he laughing at? Hopefully he hadn’t got his nappy undone again.
Then it really would be a horror film.
If he saw her looking in, there’d be no getting him back to sleep tonight.
She settled on poking her head round the door, anxious to see what he was
laughing at.
Her entire body seized with fear at the sight of the empty cot.
Instead, Felix was in the armchair with his father, standing upright on
Jay’s lap, smack in the middle of a fit of giggles.
At her gasp of horror, Jay’s head snapped over to the doorway, lips
tightening. “Talia,” he stood, holding her entire world in his arms.
“What the fuck are you doing in my flat?” she whispered, fear paralyzing
her. “Give me my son.”
There was no malice in his eyes, but he remained still. “Our son.”
“My son,” she spat. “How did you even get in?”
His eyes slid over to Felix, who was busy tugging at Jay’s shirt collar, and
his gaze softened. But there was something broken there too. “How could
you keep this from me?”
Her voice was hushed. “What?”
“I would have been there every step of the way, Talia. From the morning
sickness and stretchmarks and swollen feet to caring for you during the
birth. I would have been there for every sleepless night, every nappy
change, every tantrum, everything.” Pain threaded every word, but he didn’t
stop. “I would have loved him from the beginning, as he deserved.”
Talia wanted to believe it, for Felix if nothing else. But…
“It’s a little difficult to contact someone who vanishes before you wake
up. Especially when they give you a fake name.” A name she’d given to her
son. Another heartbreak for him.
“It was never fake,” he said quietly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “It’s
what my father called me.”
Her heart calmed somewhat, seeing Felix happy and relaxed—currently
slapping his hand against Jay’s chin and thinking it was the funniest thing in
the world. She’d been trying to coax him out of hitting for the past couple
of weeks, but at this very moment in time, she was glad she hadn’t managed
it. At least one of them was getting a few slaps in.
Was he being truthful? She hoped so. It meant that Felix had something
of his father. It was why she’d given him the name Jay in the first place.
The only thing she could give.
“And what does everybody else call you?”
“Jensen.”
Her eyes went as round as saucers, but she choked out a laugh. She knew
that name very well; it was the name of her father’s business partner—and
closest friend. All this time…
“Jensen Stone?” she asked, her voice faint with disbelief.
He nodded.
“My dad talks about you all the time. Alison talks about you all the time.”
Felix’s father had been a stone’s throw away, and she’d never known it.
“Alison is my aunt,” Jay—Jensen—said.
“Your aunt?!” Talia gestured to her son. “She sees Felix constantly. She
babysits him, for Christ’s sake.”
For some insane reason, Jensen smiled, and Felix giggled. “I bet she
loves you, doesn’t she, my wee man?”
“She dotes on him.”
“Good,” he said sincerely. He let out a long exhale, taking in Felix’s
features. “Thank you, Talia.”
“For what?”
He gave a simple shrug. “My son.”
Talia couldn’t stop the hateful question that burst from her lips. “Then
why did you leave me? Leave us.”
She wasn’t expecting him to approach her, but he did, taking soft steps
across the plush rug beneath their feet.
“Because I was a fool.” Jensen reached out, his hand coming to rest under
her chin. “Why did you never call me? Why did you never tell me you were
pregnant?”
Rearing back, she shoved his hand away. “How was I supposed to call
you? Yell it from the fucking Empire State Building and hope you were in
earshot?”
Despite her anger, he remained calm. Irritatingly so. “Using the note I left
you? I’m pretty sure there were three different numbers on that bloody
business card, and my email address.”
“What note?”
“The note on the bedside table,” he stressed, horror dawning over his
expression.
Disbelief began to build, but she shoved it back down. He couldn’t be
serious, could he? “There was no note. No nothing.”
His expression was equally as incredulous as hers must have been. “I left
my business card. I wrote a note. I said I wanted to… to look after you after
that night.” His eyes flicked to Felix before refocusing on her.
 It felt as though the floor was falling out from underneath her. “There was
no note. Do you think I didn’t look? Do you think I didn’t want there to be a
note? There was nothing, Jay. Nothing at all.” Her voice broke, but she
didn’t stop. “I woke up in that place and when I saw that you weren’t
there…”
Jensen pulled her close, and she burrowed into his warmth, letting her
tears fall against his shirt.
“And then when I found out I was pregnant,” she sniffed, clutching him
with all her strength. “Do you think I didn’t want to tell you? Did you think
I wanted Felix to grow up without a father? I wanted to tell you more than
anything.”
“Hey,” he whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head. “Felix
won’t grow up without a father. I’m here, Talia.” He pulled her head up,
wiping away her tears one-handed, those sapphire eyes burning bright with
sincerity. “I will never leave you again, do you understand? I will never
leave Felix again. I’m here now, baby girl, and I will make up for every
second you had to spend alone. Okay?”
Her head was a whirlwind of emotions. Today had been a roiling mass of
feelings, and between Quinn and Jensen she didn’t know what way was up
anymore.
Did she want to give Jensen a second chance? Did she want to give
Quinn a first chance?
The disappearing note… Had that just been something he’d made up?
Was Jensen telling her the truth? Was he wanting a relationship with Felix?
How had he broken into her fucking flat? What would Dad’s reaction be?
What would Quinn’s reaction be? How many more men was she going to
cry in front of today? What if she gave Jensen a chance and he let Felix
down?
Anguish stabbed into her chest at the thought, and she realised in that
moment that it wasn’t about her, or Jensen, or Quinn, or even Dad.
Felix was the most important thing here.
She owed it to her son to give Jensen a chance. Talia didn’t want him to
end up like Quinn, alone and angry at the world. She wanted to be able to
look her son in the eye and tell him that she’d given Jensen a chance to be a
father, she’d given him a chance to be all the things he promised.
Jensen wanted to make up for the time he’d lost? “Okay,” she
whimpered, letting his strength hold the three of them up. “Okay.” Prove it.
OceanofPDF.com
 13

Jensen

W henTheJensen awoke, it took him a moment to realise where he was.

sheet of fabric above his head vaguely reminded him of an
awning, but then he shifted, quickly realising he was fully dressed… and
sleeping in his son’s room. In the strange, tee-pee style single bed that Talia
told him she used in the early days of getting Felix to sleep in his own
room, and that Felix would eventually use when he grew too big for his cot.
Somehow, he still couldn’t believe he was here. And judging from the
male voice coming from the living room, he wasn’t alone.
Getting to his feet, Jensen paused at Felix’s cot, his chest puffing out with
pride. His son. It still didn’t feel real. None of it did. What had he been
doing a week ago? Absolutely nothing of fucking consequence.
And now the little boy in front of him might as well have held Jensen’s
heart in his tiny fist.
The male voice sounded again, the wall muffling exactly what was being
said. Was Euan here?
He hoped not—for two reasons. One, because Jensen had no wish to fight
one of his closest friends. Two, because it meant that Talia had been scared
enough by his presence to need to call for help.
Jensen may have broken into her home, but he wasn’t a danger to her. Or
their little boy.
He just hoped she knew that.
 Slowly opening the door so as not to wake Felix, Jensen exited the
bedroom.
It wasn’t Euan out in the living room. It was Quinn, the smarmy little
prick he’d seen at the wedding, the one who’d wrapped his arm around
Talia’s waist.
“—you think you’re doing? You let a total stranger sleep in your flat? In
the same room as your son?” Quinn hissed, standing in the doorway to the
kitchen, blocking Jensen’s view of Talia. He approached her, getting far too
close for Jensen’s comfort.
She’s not yours, he chided himself.
“He’s not a stranger. He’s Felix’s father.”
Neither of them noticed Jensen, and he did nothing to attract attention,
preferring to listen.
“Biology doesn’t mean shit. He could be anyone, Talia,” Quinn scolded
her, immediately raising Jensen’s hackles. “Did you even lock your door?
He could have hurt you and no one would have heard you scream. You’re
miles away from the other apartments. You should have called me the
moment he knocked on the door.”
There was silence before Talia answered, stepping backwards slightly. “I
had it handled.”
“Clearly fucking not if he’s still here. Thank god your dad asked me to
come and check on you.” Quinn ran his hand through his hair, unaware of
Jensen approaching. “Remember that he bought you in a sex club, Talia.
He’s hardly trustworthy. I’m going in there to send him packing.”
“No need,” Jensen interrupted, looking down his nose as Quinn whipped
around. The rattle of a teaspoon being dropped against the counter sounded.
“Anything you want to say, you can say to my face.”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed, lips twisting in disgust. “How dare you show up
at Talia’s goddamn apartment? You have no reason to be he—”
“I have every reason to be here, and we both know it,” Jensen retorted,
his voice low. Talia appeared on Quinn’s other side, and Jensen’s chest
softened as their eyes met.
“Right. The son you abandoned.”
“A son that I didn’t know existed.” Jensen’s eyes narrowed, wanting to
knock the smug look off his face.
Eyebrow hitching, Quinn spat back a quick retort. “I wonder, does Euan
know his closest friend bought his daughter’s virginity?”
 The threat hung between them in the air, just waiting to be unleashed.
“Quinn,” Talia admonished softly, eyelids flickering with hurt.
“Is this your boyfriend?” Jensen asked her, ignoring the swirling mass of
nerves collecting in his stomach. Euan hated him enough already—and that
was without knowing the circumstances of Felix’s conception.
“Yes,” Quinn hissed.
Just as Talia answered, “No.”
Jensen liked her denial far too much, even as Quinn shot her an
exasperated look.
She may have been the mother of his child, but she wasn’t his. What must
she be? Eighteen? Nineteen? Fuck, he didn’t even know. The only thing he
could say with certainty was that she was far too young for him.
Quinn’s sharp jaw clenched, but he ignored Jensen entirely, focusing on
Talia. “At least I was here for you. Who carried you into the health centre
the day you found out you were pregnant? Who was there at the airport
saying goodbye to you? Who’s been there every step of the way? Because it
certainly wasn’t him. He disappeared the moment he got what he paid for.”
“You had to be carried into a health centre?” Jensen exclaimed. The
words cut a wound into him, shame and panic welling like blood on his
skin.
He hated himself for missing it. But he hated Quinn for being there every
bit as much.
Would you rather her have been alone?
He wanted to turn away from that little voice inside his head, but he
couldn’t.
If he could choose between Talia being alone, and Talia having the
support of a friend throughout her pregnancy, Jensen would choose the
latter every day of the week.
It didn’t mean he didn’t hate Quinn for being there any less.
Talia ignored him. “Jay said he left a note.”
A laugh burst from Quinn. “A note? Well how fuckin’ convenient he’s
only bringing that up now. Ignoring the fact that his name isn’t Jay because,
may I remind you, he gave you a fake name.”
Jensen twisted as crying sounded from Felix’s room, pulling at his
heartstrings. He moved, Talia shadowing his footsteps.
“He’s probably hungry.” She gave him a faint smile as he opened the
door for her. A wall of noise hit them. How can such a small person make
so much noise?
“Can I help?” he asked.
Quinn grumbled something out of earshot, and Jensen sent him a filthy
look. He didn’t hear what was said, but he could guess.
“Are you lactating?” she grinned, picking up a red-faced, wet-cheeked
Felix and crooning words of comfort in his ear.
Jensen sent her a smirk. “Not that I’m currently aware of.”
“Then there’s not much you can do. Sometimes only a cwtch from
mummy is good enough, isn’t it? I usually go out with my friend on
Sundays, so maybe we can meet up in the week. I know the past couple of
days have been…”
“Amazing,” Jensen supplied, unable to stop his lips curving into a smile
at the sight of his little boy. He pulled out his phone, glossing over a text
from Roman saying Tarik could come whenever to install the security
system. Shit, plus there was one from the joint venture’s management team
demanding an urgent meeting after Euan had pulled out. “What’s your
number?”
Talia settled herself on the armchair next to the cot, giving him her
number from memory.
Jensen jotted it down, quickly opening a text. “I’m sending you my full
details. Email, address, everything.”
“Don’t forget your bank account details,” she smiled, a teasing edge to
her voice. Felix attempted to yank her shirt up in quick, aggressive motions.
A hangry baby, then. Even so, Talia held her shirt down, clearly waiting for
him to leave.
“They’ll be in there,” he winked, backing out of the room. He’d wanted
to say goodbye to his son, but he also didn’t want to make her feel
uncomfortable in her own home.
Even as a snarky voice inside reminded him that he’d literally broken in
only hours ago.
“I’ll speak to you soon.”
The humour left him as soon as he turned around, finding Quinn’s hateful
gaze on him. “Haven’t you done enough damage?” Quinn whispered, too
low for Talia to hear.
“I get that you’re looking out for her,” Jensen said, his tone hushed. “But
I’m Felix’s father. I’m not going anywhere.”
 “Then I’ll be here,” Quinn tilted his head, eyes burning. “Ready to look
after her once you’re done ruining her life—just like last time.”
As he exited Talia’s flat, making his way back down the stairs, he
couldn’t help but mull on the barbed insult. When he’d met Talia, she’d
been at Columbia, working towards becoming a doctor. One night with him
had left her alone and pregnant, and he’d been ignorant of it all.
I wanted to tell you more than anything, she’d said last night, tears
streaming down her face.
Quinn’s insult hurt, because it was true. He’d ruined the life she’d had.
His resolve hardened by the time he reached the ground floor. He had no
idea how to be a dad; if he wanted to do it properly, to take care of Talia and
Felix the way they deserved, then he’d need help.
Pressing the phone to his ear, Jensen waited—it rang once, twice, thrice.
“Jensen,” Warren greeted him down the phone, the sound of a baby
giggling in the background.
“Hello, mate,” Jensen said quickly, dodging a delivery bike haring down
the pavement at the speed of light. “Look, I need a favour.”

By the time Jensen finally sat down at Warren and Kate’s dining room
table, he was exhausted. “Is it like this every day?”
Warren shrugged, checking the baby monitor app on his phone. In her
cot, Lucie was finally down for her afternoon nap. “It’s less stressful when
Kate and everyone else is around, plus Lucie’s teething too. And she’s
recovering from having her sleep disturbed by the wedding. So it’s not
necessarily like this every day.”
Jensen stayed silent, ruminating over his thoughts.
He knew a baby was hard work, but today was hard fucking work.
Warren had been happy to show him the ropes of looking after a baby, from
changing nappies to feeding to bathing to supervising. But there had been a
myriad of smaller things that he never would have thought of.
Jensen now knew to check an inconsolable baby’s fingers and toes to
ensure long hairs hadn’t become wrapped around them, cutting off
circulation. Grapes had to be cut into quarters. It was easier to dab nappy
cream on with a make-up brush than a finger. Pillows and blankets were
safety hazards for babies. Heavy furniture should be properly secured so
there was no chance of it toppling over. And on and on, until he had a giant
list of everything on his phone to ensure he wouldn’t forget.
Jensen had a newfound respect for his friend. Warren seamlessly blended
running a business with being a fully involved parent, shouldering endless
responsibilities at once.
He’d had no idea how draining parenting would be. There was no off
switch. There were no breaks. And yet he’d never heard Warren complain
about it. On the contrary, Warren had nothing but love for his little girl.
Jensen only hoped that he’d be as good a father as Warren.
“I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now.”
He looked up to see Warren gazing at him across the table and almost
laughed. “I have no idea how I feel either. Overwhelmed. Guilty. Terrified.
Excited. Devastated.” His forehead creased the more he thought about it.
“Talia must fucking hate me. She’s been doing everything on her own, with
no hope of seeing me again.”
Warren shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’re Felix’s father. This
entire time… Kate helped Talia recover from the birth. I put Felix’s cot
together, for Christ sake.”
Something in him broke. “You did?”
“I did,” Warren confirmed, wearing an unreadable expression. “Kate said
Talia was having trouble with it a few weeks before he was born, so I went
round.”
Jensen leant back in the chair as a feeling of utter uselessness rolled over
him, the shirt he’d borrowed from Warren slightly tight around his
shoulders. “How… how old is he exactly?”
It was a pathetic question about his own son, but he hadn’t had a chance
to ask yet. He had a rough idea, but that was all. A father should have more
than that.
Jealousy raked over him again, but for once it wasn’t Quinn who he was
jealous of; it was Warren. Warren had been there for Talia and Felix when
he hadn’t been. Jensen didn’t know whether he wanted to thank him or
strangle him, but that voice crept up on him again.
Would you rather Talia was alone?
Never, he snarled back.
 Warren gave him a hard glance, but Jensen didn’t blame him. What kind
of father didn’t know his own son’s birthday? “Felix was nine months on
the 11th February. A fortnight older than Lucie.”
The coward in him paused before asking his next question. “And how old
is Talia?”
Warren’s gaze seared into his soul. “Nineteen. We went to her birthday
dinner a few months ago.”
The blood left his cheeks, turning them a pallid, grey colour. He’d known
she must have been around that age, but having it confirmed was still a
blow. “Euan was right to deck me.”
Warren said nothing—and that said it all.
Talia was less than half his age. It felt like a crime.
And now they had a child together.
Gritting his teeth, he aimed the next question he had. “Do you know
much about this Quinn guy?”
“Not that much. They met whilst at university in New York. He tends to
look after her, and I know Kate thinks he’s quite protective of her.”
Jensen should have been glad someone was looking out for Talia, but all
he could feel was a wrongness that it wasn’t him. He shoved that emotion
deep inside. She was too young for him by far; just because they’d spent a
night together didn’t mean she belonged to him. “I don’t like him.” No, that
wasn’t true. “I fucking hate him, in fact,” Jensen spat, his Scottish accent
getting stronger in his anger. “Every time I see him, I want to wring his
neck.”
Warren gave a wry smile. “Careful, or you’ll end up in prison again.”
A dry laugh left him. “Never again. Last time I was behind bars I met
you. There’s no telling what kind of lunatic I’ll run into if I go back inside.”
With another look at the baby monitor, Warren rubbed the back of his
head. “Speaking of which, how does Talia feel about your ever-so-slightly
murderous history?”
There was a pause before he answered. Jaw clenching, Jensen met his
friend’s gaze head-on. “I haven’t told her yet.” He’d barely had time to tell
her anything about himself, let alone that.
Incredulity rounded Warren’s eyes. “You’re joking?”
“If I tell her, what do you think she’ll do? Run for the hills, and, to be
honest, I wouldn’t blame her. A convicted killer is hardly the ideal co-
parent.”
 “She knows I was in prison.”
Jensen laughed. “Yeah, but you were wrongly convicted. It’s not even
close to the same thing. Think of her reaction if she knew the details of the
case. She’d never trust me or Rhys again if she knew what we did. I don’t
want to push her further away, Warren.”
“So you’re just going to portray yourself as the average, run-of-the-mill
businessman?” Warren crossed his arms over his chest, his brows drawn
down.
“Yes,” he stressed. “I want a relationship with my son. Would you not
want that?”
Glancing in the direction of Lucie’s bedroom, Warren let out a compliant
sigh. “You know I would.”
Keen to change the subject, Jensen steered them towards Stone Holdings’
latest acquisition—or potential acquisition. “How have things been going
with the property development company you wanted to buy? The last I
heard Gloria had managed to get a meeting with the CEO.”
“She did,” Warren nodded. “She actually sent me the minutes of the
meeting a few days ago. Let me see if I can find them.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of work chat, debating how
much money would need to be poured into the potential acquisition before
they pulled it from the brink of collapse.
Jensen was so immersed in their discussion he almost missed his phone
buzzing. He tilted the screen towards him, pleased to see that Tarik had
given him the go-ahead—instead of yet another voicemail from the
management team of his and Euan’s joint venture.
Well, now he supposed it was just his venture after Euan had pulled out.
Fuck. “I need to get going if I’m going to meet this security guy. Thank you
for helping me today. I appreciate it.”
“Even if you ended up with baby shit smeared all over your shirt sleeve?”
With a grimace, he nodded. “Even then. I’ll give you this shirt back next
time I see you.”
“Did you want yours back?” Warren’s eyebrow flicked up, humour laced
in his eyes.
Did he fuck. Jensen stood, the chair’s wooden legs scraping against the
floor. “Not a chance.”

OceanofPDF.com
 14

Talia

o you want Jensen to be involved in Felix’s life?” Mia asked, guiding

“D the empty pushchair down one of St James’s Park’s wide paths—
although her son, little Reggie, was beginning to spend more time
out of it than in.
Talia eyed Mia’s growing baby bump. Reggie would grow out of it, just
in time for the new baby to grow into it. And Mia would be starting all over
again.
“Yes,” she answered truthfully, ducking beneath a low branch.
“But you say he runs some company, right?” Mia’s black bob swayed
around her jawline. She was a couple of years older than Talia, and a couple
of years more experienced as a mother—both of which had been endlessly
helpful after Felix’s birth.
“Right,” she agreed, her hands steering her own pram around a puddle.
She was thankful she had someone neutral to explain the situation to. “Or
he’s part owner, anyway.” The little she knew of Stone Holdings came from
what Kate and Dad had told her in passing.
And maybe some furious surreptitious Googling she’d never admit to.
“So how much time is he actually going to spend with Felix? Surely he’s
going to be busy. Or is he just going to be enthusiastic at the start and trail
off as he loses interest?” Mia cut herself off. “Reggie, babe, stay on this
side of the path, not near the lake.”
 “Why?” Reggie asked curiously, clutching his toy robot.
“Because I don’t want you to fall in the water.”
Reggie gasped as a young girl on a bike whizzed past, and he pointed.
“Can I bring my bike next time?”
“You’ll have to wait for Daddy to put the stabilisers on for you, okay?”
“Speaking of men,” Talia began, “how is it going with Cameron? The last
I heard you guys were off.”
“I think we might be back on,” Mia admitted, giving her an embarrassed
look. Talia’s heart sunk for her friend. “He promised no more going to the
pub after work. And he’s been true to his word for the past week. He’s been
at home every night. Reggie’s loving it.”
“That’s great.” Talia just wondered how long it would last, and how
disappointed Reggie would be when it ended. Even though Mia had only
been her tenant for a year or so, Cameron had been through this routine
several times over. “Has he been less restrictive about what you’re doing?”
“He has,” Mia smiled, the corners of her dark eyes crinkling. “I met up
with my old uni friend this week—she studied computer science the same
as me. And Cameron’s even been reading to Reggie before bed.
Everything’s been amazing.”
Talia didn’t have the heart to dampen her spirits by asking what had
happened the last time Cameron promised to change, or the time before
that. It was enough for Mia to know that Talia was there for her.
If Talia fought against Cameron when he’d just conned Mia into taking
him back, she’d only drive Mia further into his arms.
It was safer to change topic. “How did your twenty-four week scan go?
Heartbeat looking good? No signs of pre-eclampsia?”
Mia gave her a knowing look, smothered in affection. “Everything is
looking wonderful, Doctor Llewellyn. The baby’s growth is spot on for
week twenty-four. They did everything you said they should.”
Doctor Llewellyn. The title hurt more than Talia thought it would. It was
who she could have been. Her drive was there still, that need to do
something.
But now she’d left that road unfinished.
“Good,” she smiled. Pre-natal and ante-natal medicine was perhaps the
only part of her textbooks she’d read in their entirety. Even after leaving
Columbia, she’d pored over those chapters, eager to learn more about what
to expect in her pregnancy.
 It had been strange, but it was the first time she’d found genuine
enjoyment in learning from those textbooks. If only she’d found the same
enjoyment in medicine as a whole, she may never have lost her scholarship.
But then she’d never have gone to Lux and met Jensen, and Felix would
have never been born.
Her heart constricted at the thought.
There was nothing—nothing—more important to her than Felix.
It didn’t matter that there was still that need inside; a road left unfinished.
Maybe one day I can start again. She just didn’t know where the road
would lead.
“You all right?” Mia asked, noticing her saddened expression.
Talia pointed to the pushchair rather than trying to explain. “Is he still
asleep?” The top of the pushchair hid Felix from her view but not from
Mia’s.
“Out like a light. And it’s no wonder, after the night he had. How is
weaning going, by the way?”
The conversation flowed as they exited St James’s Park, joining the
throng of people flowing up The Mall towards Trafalgar Square. Talia could
remember Dad telling her that the Square used to be covered in a layer of
pigeons from dawn till dusk, with tourists purchasing pigeon feed from
stalls only to end up with a flock of pigeons descending upon them.
Today, there wasn’t a pigeon in sight—there was a hawk, though.
That probably had something to do with it.
After entering the mansion block they both called home and squeezing
both pushchairs into the lift, Talia said goodbye to Mia on the second floor,
continuing upwards onto the sixth. Trudging the long path down to her flat,
Talia was in the middle of replying to a text from Darcy—confirming she
would be going out for Darcy’s birthday next week—when her phone rang.
Her heart thudded. It was Jensen.
Talia had known he’d be calling, but she hadn’t expected it to be nine
hours after she’d last seen him. “Hello?”
“Hey, are you at home?”
“In about ten seconds I will be,” she said, steering the pushchair one-
handed towards her front door. “Why?”
“The locks on your door aren’t good enough. Nor is the security in the
building. I’ve got a company here to install a smart security system for
you.”
 Talia blinked, stilling with the key in the door. “Excuse me?”
“It’s not safe, Talia. For Felix… or for you.”
Wheeling the pushchair into the flat, she chewed the inside of her lip. It
did scare her that Jensen had been able to get into her flat last night.
Terrified her, actually. This was supposed to be her sanctuary, but he’d
strolled in whilst she was fast asleep.
And yet…
With Jensen around, she’d never felt safer.
“I don’t want a repeat of last night,” he continued. “This time it was me,
but next time it might not be. I want you to feel secure in your own home. I
want you to know in the future that if you don’t want someone—anyone—
coming in, then you can choose to keep them out.”
Something in her head made her say it. “Even if that person is you?”
“Yes,” he said vehemently. “I want you to be able to protect yourself and
Felix. Let me give that to you.”
Coming to a decision, she depressed the buzzer. “Come up.”
Wheeling the pushchair around, Talia positioned it against the wall with
Felix facing outwards. He was still fast asleep, his chest slowly rising and
falling. Ever so gently, Talia fully reclined the seat he sat in, until Felix was
flat on his back, as had been drummed into her in every post-natal class
she’d attended.
Afterwards, she opened the front door again, leaning in the doorway to
await Jensen’s arrival, ignoring the way her heartbeat quickened.
When he appeared at the end of the corridor, he was still utterly,
confoundingly, almost annoyingly gorgeous. And the way he’d been last
night with Felix…
There was nothing more attractive than a man caring for his baby.
Nothing.
And to be the mother watching? It was lethal. Her womb could barely
take it. No wonder his sperm had made it up her supposedly blocked
fallopian tubes. They’d probably laid out the red fucking carpet for him.
On some level, it made her understand Mia’s plight. Cameron was jealous
beyond belief, controlling who Mia saw and when. All while he was down
the pub every chance he got, coming home at all hours drunk out of his
mind. And yet Mia clung to the hope that he was going to change.
And if Cameron was currently putting in effort with Reggie?
For the first time, she understood.
 “Talia?”
Jensen’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. He’d changed clothes since
she’d last seen him, and she let her gaze wander over him surreptitiously. It
was the first time she’d seen him in something other than a suit—he wore a
black jacket over a plain white t-shirt, coupled with a pair of dark jeans.
Well, she’d seen him naked too. That was a different type of suit
altogether.
Her face flamed, and she hoped her smile covered it up. “You got here
quickly.”
“I knew the way,” he replied, giving her an endearing shrug. “This is
Tarik,” Jensen gestured behind him, towards a man she hadn’t even noticed
in her daydreaming. “He’s going to be installing the security system.”
“Hi Tarik,” she said politely, smiling at the handsome black-haired man.
“What kind of security system?”
“New lock, first and foremost,” Tarik began, his Yorkshire accent strong
and firm. “Then voice recognition, multiple cameras with face and body
recognition, colour night vision, and motion detection. All in 4K. They’re
all weatherproof too, but in a flat that’s not going to be of much use. We’ve
got door contacts and shock sensors for doors and windows; those’ll let you
know if anyone’s trying to break through. I’ve brought heat detectors as
well—although those are designed for fire prevention rather than burglars.
There are a few decoys as well. Smart locks too. Then there’s panic buttons
and audio monitoring—”
“Audio monitoring?” Talia almost laughed, slightly overwhelmed. “I
have a nine month old baby.”
Tarik waved a hand, running his thumb along the neat stubble covering
his jaw. “I’ll calibrate it, don’t worry.”
“Right.” Her voice was faint.
This was overkill, surely?
Dad was wealthy, but she hadn’t grown up with this kind of security
system. Was this normal for Jensen? Was he used to dropping boatloads of
money like this?
He bought you for two million dollars, her inner voice reminded her. Of
course he’s bloody used to it.
The gap between them was never more obvious then. He’d probably
grown up with access to this kind of money. This was a drop in the ocean to
him, as easily affordable as a trip to the bakery was for her.
 And then there was the age gap. He was a mature, wealthy businessman.
She wondered what he thought of suddenly discovering he had a son. Did
he have other kids? How old were they? Was he married?
No, she reasoned. Dad would have mentioned it at some point.
Talia’s eyes wandered as Tarik moved around the flat, inevitably landing
on Jensen. Where did he fit into her life? Where did she fit into his? They
were worlds apart in so many areas; age, maturity, financially, priorities, life
experience. Was he one of those men whose lives revolved around their
work?
I just don’t want Felix to be second best.
It didn’t take Tarik long to create a 3D sketch of her flat on his tablet,
using it to identify exactly where to place all of them. The equipment
arrived soon after, with Tarik wheeling in an enormous case chock-a-block
with cameras and alarms and wires.
She let him get on with it.
Instead, she occupied her time sitting at the dining table, watching Jensen
feeding Felix a chicken, sweet potato, and carrot puree. Chicken and sweet
potato had proven to be Felix’s favourite dinner puree so far, but the carrot
was a new addition she’d snuck in there.
It was a nice experience too—to be sitting at her own dinner table, eating
at the same time as her son, rather than feeding him herself and then eating
afterwards. Other people had fed Felix before, of course, but none since
she’d began to wean him.
Jensen had surprised her so far. She just wondered if he’d be as keen to
deal with the aftermath of eating.
Whilst Tarik flitted around them, Talia kept her and Jensen’s discussion
light—Felix, mostly, but now she’d had time to think, she had a few
burning questions to ask him.
And then, finally, Tarik approached the dinner table. “All finished.
Everything should be linked up to your phone. Jensen can show you how to
use it all if needed, but it’s pretty user intuitive.”
Talia nodded like she’d never forgotten her own password and attempted
to set a new one, only for the new password to be her old password.
“Amazing, thank you.”
Jensen shook Tarik’s hand. “Cheers for sorting that out on such short
notice. For everything.”
 “To make sure little Felix is safe?” Tarik smiled down at her son’s puree-
covered face. “It was no trouble at all. Was it, bub?”
Felix grinned, waving his hand up.
Tarik waved back, letting Jensen walk him out.
“Thanks again,” Talia called, just as Jensen shut the door—and the three
of them were alone once more.
And somehow, that fact took all the air out of the room.
Talia focused on her son, ignoring the tension settling around them. The
feeling of being watched fluttered over her skin, but she bit her lip, starting
to collect all of the dirty dishes to take them to the kitchen bench.
Jensen’s large hand stilled her own, his husky voice coming shortly after.
“Let me clean up.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to do it, Talia,” he said softly. Why did hearing him say her name
stutter her breath? “Between New York and today, you’ve done everything
by yourself. Allow me to take care of you.”
She nodded, letting him take the dishes from her hands—and in doing so
removing his touch from her skin. Talia exhaled, mourning the loss.
Jensen was surprisingly attentive in his work, cleaning Felix first before
moving onto the dining table, and then the kitchen workspaces.
But there were things she needed to discuss, and now was as good a time
as any.
Talia moved Felix to his sit-in walker, the next part of his routine in the
run up to bed. A bath would be next, followed by a story before bed. Now,
though…
“Are you married?” she blurted.
Jensen stilled as he rinsed the tiny pot Felix’s puree had been stored in.
“No,” he blinked, the question clearly taking him by surprise. “Never
married.”
Relief quietened her mind, even as his answer opened up other questions.
Why have you never married? Are you married to your work? Have other
women been scared off by something I haven’t discovered yet? “Do you
have any other children?”
His laugh was more of a surprised chuff. “No. Felix is my only child.”
Talia nodded. So this is going to be a steep learning curve for you. “We
should discuss parenting.”
He paused, leaning against one of the kitchen counters. “What about it?”
 She readied herself, her discussion with Mia fresh in her mind. “How
involved of a father do you intend to be?”
“As involved as you’ll let me be.” There was a slight frown on his face.
“As involved as I can be. I’m his father, Talia.”
“True,” she acknowledged, swallowing down her nerves. “But you
disappeared the morning after we concei—”
“For a last minute business meeting.”
“Exactly.” Her shoulders sank as she let out a heavy sigh. “Felix isn’t
your only commitment. You run a business.” Talia looked away, chewing
the inside of her lip. “And you didn’t exactly give me your name.”
Jensen stepped towards her. “I already told you the name wasn’t fake,
baby girl.”
The endearment was almost a physical blow, throwing her back to their
night at Lux. Of all the things he’d said to her, done to her.
Of all the things they’d done together.
“Don’t call me that,” she managed, refusing to be thrown off course.
Even so, she could still feel the way he’d touched her that night. The
reverent way he’d held her as she climaxed. The way he cradled her
afterwards. “But why not just give me your name in the first place?”
Jensen came closer still, taking her hand in his. “Because I wanted to be
the real me with you. In hindsight…” he trailed off, his soft gaze finding
their son. “Thank you for giving me that connection with him.”
She knew exactly what he meant. Felix Jay. “It was the only connection I
had to give.”
His smile was strained, his eyes clouded with emotion. “You gave me
everything, Talia.”
“Then promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t let him down,” she implored him. “You say you want to be a
proper father to him, and I won’t stop you, but start as you mean to go on. If
you’re the kind of dad who will only see him once a month, don’t get his
hopes up for anything more than that.”
“Once a month?” Jensen looked crestfallen, his eyes widening with
horror.
“I may be young, but I’m not naïve. Dad is a businessman. Maybe not on
your level, but there’s going to be times when you’re run off your feet or
you’re called away urgently or…” Talia trailed off at the guilty look on his
face. “What?”
“A joint venture partner has pulled out of a deal at the last minute and I
may need to go to sort things out in the next week or so, but it’s—”
A joint venture? That sounded strangely familiar. Hadn’t Dad said
something about pulling out of the joint venture he’d started with Jensen?
“This joint venture partner wouldn’t happen to be my dad, would it?”
His lips thinned, but he squeezed her hand. “All that matters is that it’s
temporary. Once it’s been dealt with, I’ll be on the next plane home.”
“From New York, I suspect.” Seeing as that’s where Dad’s joint business
venture was. Ironically.
“Your suspicions may be correct,” he admitted, with a hint of a smile.
“Will you let me video call with Felix?”
“He’s not a particularly good conversationalist.”
“Maybe I don’t want conversation.” Ever so gently, his thumb brushed
over her hand, sending a shiver across her shoulders. “Maybe I just want to
see him.”
Talia sucked in a heady breath, close to losing herself in the cerulean
flecks of his irises. Suddenly, it didn’t matter to her that he was twice her
age. Her cheeks flushed with warmth, until all she could do was nod.
“Maybe he’ll want to see you too.”

OceanofPDF.com
 15

Jensen

A fterIt ten days, Jensen had had enough.

wasn’t the endless meetings that were driving him insane, or being
surrounded by lawyers squawking over finances, or signing endless papers
promising astronomical sums of money to continue work on the
developments that had already begun, bridging the gap that Euan had left.
It wasn’t even the daily video calls with Felix and Talia, reminding him
of just how far away he was.
No, it was Talia’s visits from that smarmy little prick Quinn that got him
—and the helpful face recognition cameras that sent a notification to
Jensen’s phone every time Quinn knocked on the door.
Was Quinn doing anything wrong? No. But fuck, at this point Jensen was
looking for any excuse he could to hate the bastard.
Bringing Talia a smoothie only for it to contain banana, which she was
apparently allergic to. Had Jensen known that? No. Did he hate Quinn for
not knowing that? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Jensen had never been a jealous type before, but there was something
about Talia that sent him out of his mind with jealousy. Was it because she
was the mother of his child? Maybe. Maybe not.
He recalled her back on the stage at Lux. He’d felt it then, or at least a
hint of it. Back then, he’d rationalised it as wanting to protect her from the
vultures bidding on her, hiding his lust from even himself.
 Jensen leant back against the seat, jostled as the Stone Holdings private
jet landed on the runway, finally back on British soil. He’d been glued to his
phone for most of the journey, fending off requests from his lawyers.
But in between, he’d been checking on little Felix, the camera’s night
vision allowing Jensen to see him clearly.
The double standard wasn’t lost on him.
If Quinn had fitted a security system in Talia’s home, then secretly given
himself access to it without her knowledge, Jensen would have murdered
the bastard.
It was wrong. He knew it was wrong.
Perhaps that was why he wasn’t judging himself as harshly as he would
have judged Quinn. Jensen knew he wasn’t going to do anything perverted
with the footage. He wasn’t going to start watching Talia undressing or
bathing.
When Talia sat down in the armchair in Felix’s room, Jensen always
switched off. Because he knew that was the chair in which she breastfed.
And when Talia was in the shower, Jensen always kept an eye on Felix in
his room.
He may have been halfway around the world over the last week, but he
had to start parenting somewhere.
Grabbing his suitcase, Jensen descended the stairs as soon as the pilot
gave him the all clear, pleased to see his cab waiting for him a short
distance away. Even then, the morning rush hour meant it took him over an
hour to reach his flat in Mayfair.
He was there just long enough to shower before jumping back in the cab,
keeping an eye on his watch all the way. Just as they were coming up on the
leisure centre’s address, Jensen’s phone beeped with yet another message,
but he ignored it, exiting the cab as quickly as he’d entered it.
Because he’d seen exactly who he came here to meet.
Through the glass doors of the leisure centre, Talia stood at the reception
desk, her long red hair drawn up in a tight bun. The pushchair faced away
from him, towards the large window at the end of the room through which a
large swimming pool could be seen. “We’re here for the baby swimming
class,” she said, just as he came in.
“Talia,” he breathed, jogging over to them.
Her eyes widened in shock. “Jensen! How… What are you doing here?”
 “Last night when you mentioned how much Felix loved his swimming
lessons,” Jensen leant his elbow on the reception desk. “I thought I’d come
and see what all the fuss is about.”
“You’re supposed to be in New York.”
He let his gaze swing across to the pushchair, where he could just see
Felix’s little legs kicking. “Am I though?”
The muscles around her lips twitched, attempting to hide her smile.
“Come on then. The corridor to the viewing area is that way. We’ll see you
in a bit.”
Bending down to greet Felix, Jensen smiled and patted his bag. “I
brought my swimming trunks. Didn’t I, wee man?”
“You’re going to swim with us?” Her lips parted with surprise, her eyes
flicking down to his body. “In only shorts?”
Fuck, she looked adorable like that. “Is that allowed?” He kissed Felix’s
chubby little hand, letting his son pat his cheek.
“Of course, I just didn’t expect…” Trailing off, she inclined her head
towards the changing room sign, wearing an unreadable expression. “We
best get changed then.”
The overwhelming smell of chlorine greeted them as they walked through
the double doors and arrived at another sign, except this one gave them
three options: men, women, or families.
“Do you want me to come in with you to help with Felix?” he asked
quietly.
Talia shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m used to doing everything by
myself.” At his flinch, she retraced her steps. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Don’t apologise,” he said gently. “You’re not wrong. I’ll see you out
there, all right? Give me a shout if you need anything.”
Making his way through to the men’s changing rooms, Jensen quickly
changed into his swimming trunks, but it wasn’t until the side-eye began
that he realised he’d forgotten to consider something.
His burn scars.
The boys were obvious, glancing at him with eyes as wide as saucers, but
at least the men were more subtle about it.
Shoving his clothes into a locker, Jensen walked barefoot through to the
main pool area. Patches of water littered the tiles underfoot. Children’s
shouts and squeals echoed around the space, occasionally followed by a
lifeguard’s predictable bellow of, “No running around the pool.”
 Jensen followed the signs to the baby pool. A woman wearing a pink-and-
blue swim shirt and shorts guarded the entrance, her hands gripping a
clipboard. “This is the baby pool only, I’m afraid,” she told him, giving him
and his scars a cool look.
“I’m just waiting for my son and his mother to come out of the changing
rooms,” he explained patiently.
The woman softened somewhat. “And what’s their names?”
“Talia and Felix… Llewellyn,” he said slowly. He’d never considered
Felix’s last name before, but it would be Llewellyn, wouldn’t it? That was
Euan’s surname, and it stood to reason his daughters would have his name.
As would his grandson.
From far away, Jensen heard the woman telling him where to wait.
Of course Felix would have Talia’s surname. He just hadn’t expected how
much that would unsettle him. Was that sexist? Why did Felix’s surname
being Llewellyn fill him with so much unease?
After a few moments of internal debate, Jensen landed on the root cause.
It wasn’t the surname itself that was the issue. It was the fact that Talia
had had no other option when naming Felix.
It was a representation of Jensen’s failures as a father.
He hadn’t been there for his son. He hadn’t been there for Talia. Felix had
come into the world with no other option but to take his mother’s surname.
At least if Jensen had been there from the beginning, their son would have
had options. Even if he and Talia had decided to name him Llewellyn after
all, that would have been a decision they came to together.
A sharp poke on his arm got his attention.
“Excuse me?” said a high voice.
Jensen blinked down to see a small blond boy standing before him. He
couldn’t be any older than eight. “Yes, mate?” he responded, seeing Talia
coming towards him, little Felix on her hip and a towel around her waist.
The boy pointed up at him. “How did you get your scars?”
He said the first child-friendly thing that came to his mind. “I fought off a
shark.”
“Did you really?” the boy gasped, jumping back slightly.
“I did.”
Punching an exaggerated fist through the air, almost throwing himself off
balance on the wet floor, the little boy exclaimed, “Did you punch it?”
“I did,” Jensen said again. “It was being a naughty shark.”
 “A shark?” Talia asked, her brows drawn down in confusion.
“He fought off a shark!” the boy said excitedly, his voice echoing around
them.
“Call me if you see any in the pool,” he added to the boy, who took off
skipping towards a group of children having a pool noodle fight.
“You never told me about any shark,” Talia hefted Felix higher on her
hip, watching as he reached out to Jensen. She wore a swimshirt and shorts,
rather than a typical swimming costume, whilst Felix wore a green onesie
covered in seahorses.
Jensen shrugged at her, a half grin on his face. He took Felix’s little hand,
“A man doesn’t like to boast.”
For some reason, that made Felix erupt in a burbling giggle.
“Felix has it right,” Talia said tartly, humour underpinning her voice.
“Men love to boast. Especially about things that are utterly mediocre.”
“Fighting off a shark is not mediocre.”
She gave him a look, ducking behind Felix’s head to hide her grin.
“Talia and Felix?” the clipboard woman called from beside the baby pool,
tapping a pen against the paper.
“We’ve got Felix’s dad with us today, is that okay?”
Jensen almost stumbled as he walked behind her, carefully treading
across the tiles.
Felix’s dad.
Dad.
How had it not struck him until this moment how significant being a dad
really was?
He’d called himself Felix’s father before, but dad was something more
intimate, wasn’t it?
He had to earn that.
Jensen offered Talia a steadying hand as the two of them followed the
gentle slope down into the baby pool. The warm water lapped at their feet,
gradually submersing them, a change from the ladders usually offered by
swimming pools.
Felix seemed at home in the water, squealing with happiness when it
reached his toes.
“They usually give us some free play time at the start and end,” Talia told
him. “Apparently it creates a positive association with the water, doesn’t it
cyw?”
 Felix babbled, reaching for one of the toys in the water.
“Cyw?” Jensen asked, pushing a toy pufferfish closer to his son. “What
does that mean?”
“It’s Welsh. For chick. It’s what Dad always called Darcy and I when we
were kids.”
“Do you speak Welsh then?” It occurred to him just how little he knew
about the mother of his child. He knew Euan’s first language was Welsh,
but from what Jensen had gathered he’d lived in London for the past thirty
years.
Talia nodded, giving Felix a bit more room to kick in the pool. “He
thought it was important. And it was handy for me. I got a Welsh GCSE and
A Level without any study at all.” She rubbed Felix’s arm. “Do you want to
show Dadda how good you are in the water today?”
Trying not to show how hard that first Dadda hit him, Jensen almost
balked. “He can move around by himself?”
“Of course. He’s been coming here since he was eight weeks old. When
the instructor comes over, you can see what he can do.”
They didn’t have to wait long.
“Hello Felix,” the instructor greeted them, wearing the same pink-and-
blue swim shirt as the clipboard woman. “And we’ve got Dad here as well,
I hear?”
“We have indeed,” Talia smiled, passing Felix to the instructor.
“Ready to start today then, Felix?” the instructor asked, smiling at him.
“We’re going to practice floating first, all right?”
Felix quietened as the instructor leant him back in the water, supporting
him with her hand until he was flat on his back.
“And if I take my hand away…”
Jensen was amazed to see that Felix kept himself there, his curious eyes
gazing all around, crinkling at the edges when he looked at Talia.
The instructor was only just getting started. “So if the two of you stand
over there,” she pointed a couple of feet away, “and I’ll let him set off.”
Obeying, Jensen stood with Talia. Surely Felix wasn’t going to swim that
distance by himself?
But the instructor held Felix upright, letting him lean forwards out of her
arms… and sink beneath the water.
“Jesus.” Jensen moved without thought, only for Talia to slap her arm
across his scarred ribs.
 “Just watch him,” she commanded. “Look.”
Instincts burning his insides, he watched, amazed to see that Felix hadn’t
sunk; he was actively swimming beneath the water, quickly bridging the
short distance between them.
“Let him surface by himse—” the instructor began, but Felix had already
popped his head up above the water, wet eyelashes clumped together.
Jensen gathered his son in his arms, peppering kisses onto his soaking
wet hair and making him giggle. “How did you learn to do that?”
That, apparently, was only the beginning.
From propelling himself around holding a pool noodle to rolling onto his
back to ‘walking’ along a row of plastic stepping stones just under the
water, Felix could do it all.
During the free play at the end of the session, he and Talia sat on the
plastic stepping stones, each holding one of Felix’s hands as he stood
between them. That was one of the rules: babies were not allowed to swim
by themselves unless supervised by an instructor.
Leaning back against the side of the pool, Jensen supported Felix as he
clambered onto his lap—although he did quickly cover his groin when his
son came a tad close to standing on his bollocks. “Not there,” he grunted
quickly. “Or you’ll be an only child.”
A moment later, he realised what he’d said, snapping his gaze to Talia. “I
didn’t mean—”
She gave him an easy look. “I know.”
His lip curved slowly, easing a sigh from his lungs. “You’re a wonderful
mother, Talia. Truly.” Felix wrapped his arms around Jensen’s neck, and he
smiled. “I couldn’t have wanted anyone better for my son, could I, wee
man?”
Beneath the water, Talia took his hand. “Thank you for not running away
the moment you learnt of his existence.”
Jensen shook his head, gazing into Felix’s eyes—the same vivid sapphire
of his own. “No. You’ll never be rid of me now, baby girl.”
The shy smile she gave him evoked a twisting in his chest, warming him
from the inside out.
By the time the three of them strolled into the leisure centre’s café for
lunch, Jensen was famished. And exhausted. He’d barely slept on the plane,
and the last thing he’d eaten had been dinner in New York some eighteen
hours ago.
 They sat in a secluded corner at the back, where the constant tinkling of
plates and cups and the chattering patrons was quieter. There was naught to
keep out the rich, lustrous smell of coffee wafting through the air, nor the
occasional scent of bacon sizzling in a pan.
As soon as the food was placed in front of him, his stomach gnawed
incessantly, the smell making him even hungrier.
Even so, he noticed that Talia wasn’t eating hers; she was focusing on
spoon-feeding Felix, her food going cold as it sat in front of her.
He wondered how often her food had gone cold as she’d had to put
Felix’s needs before her own.
“May I feed him?” Jensen asked softly.
Talia’s surprised eyes flicked between him and his food, sitting on the
slightly sticky dark wood table. “Don’t you want to eat?”
He shook his head.
As they passed him between them, Felix’s face fell as his food was
momentarily taken away from him, but he perked up again once he was in
Jensen’s lap. He was surprisingly obedient as Jensen offered him spoonful
after spoonful, happily leaning back into his embrace.
Sometimes he’d seen Warren with Lucie, gazing on his daughter with
such affection that it was almost tangible. He’d never expected to feel it
himself, but as he sat there with his son, Jensen knew he’d go to the ends of
the earth for this little boy. He could feel it in his chest, the physical weight
of having a child.
His heart was no longer his own; it belonged to Felix.
It wasn’t until the jar of baby food was empty that Jensen realised he was
being watched.
“Is something the matter?” he asked, blinking out of his reverie.
Talia smiled, the plate on the table in front of her now empty. “It’s still
strange watching you together. I’ve had eighteen months of thinking Felix
would never meet his father. And then suddenly you’re here.”
Jensen’s chest clenched at the idea of never knowing about his son. “I’m
sorry for everything you had to go through. Both of you.”
She shrugged, as though it had all been as easy as breathing. Standing,
she put Felix back in his pushchair, giving him a small selection of toys to
play with. “I’m not. Because without it I wouldn’t have Felix.”
The edge of his lip twitched. “It’s strange to think of.”
“What is?”
 “When I walked into that room to see you kneeling on the floor…”
Jensen trailed off, sharing a look with her.
Talia was silent for a long moment. “Did you… did you ever think of
me?”
Yes, he wanted to say. Constantly.
There had been times he’d wanted to catch the next plane to New York
and storm into Columbia University. The memories of her touch, her kiss,
her moans, and the soft words they’d shared between it all had never been
far from his mind.
He’d stayed away from her not because he wanted to, but because it was
the right thing to do.
Talia was too young for him.
He’d served his purpose in her life. He’d given her the money needed to
finish her education.
“Talia…” he began, his throat jumping with a swallow.
But she shook her head, plastering a false smile onto her face. “Forget I
asked, it was a silly question.”
Against every decent instinct in his body, Jensen took her hand. The feel
of her skin struck him like lightning, sending shards of need throughout his
body. “You’re my best friend’s daughter,” he said hoarsely.
Her eyes were wide. “So what?”
“I’m trying to be decent.” As decent as a convicted murderer can be. He
breathed, turning to glance out of the window before admitting defeat.
“Even if it goes against every instinct I have when it comes to you.”
Talia sucked in a breath. “What kind of instincts?”
“You were there in that room in New York,” he murmured, trailing a light
touch over her palm. “You know exactly what kind.”
A flirtatious sparkle glittered in her eyes. “Maybe I’ve forgotten.”
“No, you haven’t,” he reassured her, all arrogance and surety. His gaze
turned molten as the memories of that night came to the forefront of his
mind. “And neither have I.”
Something occurred to him.
“That… footrest,” Jensen chose his words carefully, unable to stop a grin
curling his lips. “Did you ever buy one of those for yourself?” Like he’d
told her to. Like she’d promised.
Somewhat guiltily, Talia shook her head.
Hmm. He’d have to rectify that.
 Not that Jensen blamed her. He was grateful she even entertained the
thought of him being involved in Felix’s life after what had transpired
between them.
After lunch, Jensen walked Talia and Felix out to her car, secretly loving
her amazement when he was able to collapse the pushchair and put Felix in
his car seat with ease.
“How did you know how to do all of that?” she asked, smiling when he
opened the car door for her.
Jensen shrugged. “I’m his father. It’s my job to know.”
Talia paused before she sat down, glancing up at him. “Thank you for
coming today.”
“Thank you for letting me. I meant what I said. I want to be a proper
father to him, and a proper…” Jensen looked around for the right word,
“co-parent to you.”
“Co-parent,” she repeated. “Is that what we would’ve been had I got your
note after that night?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“What was in it again?”
Knowing what he knew now, it was almost painful to recall. “I asked you
out for dinner, and left my business card next to it.”
Biting her lip, she surprised him. “Maybe we can start where we left off.
As parents, I mean.”
Jensen could take a hint. “So if I asked you out to a parent dinner
tomorrow night…?”
“I’d say,” she smirked flirtatiously, sitting down in the car, “I’m going to
Celestial for my sister Darcy’s birthday tomorrow night.”
Jensen knew it. A nightclub turned art installation turned psychedelic
experience. He’d driven past it many times on the way to Warren and Kate’s
house.
He stepped away as she closed the car door, the engine purring into life,
but then Talia’s window wound down.
“But I’d encourage you to try again another time, Jay,” she winked at
him, pulling out of the leisure centre’s car park.
Jensen’s predatorial grin was slow as it spread across his face, his heart
pumping faster in his chest.

OceanofPDF.com
 16

Talia

H olding her breath and closing her eyes, Talia spritzed her face with
setting spray.
When she opened them, she was good to go.
Tonight was the first time she’d been out out since Felix had been born,
and she was buzzing with excitement. She cast her mind back to the last
time she’d been to a nightclub.
It’d been before she’d gone to America for sure.
Smiling to herself, Talia realised she was getting some of her life back.
This would also be the first time Felix spent the night somewhere without
her. She’d painstakingly prepared an overnight bag for him, including an
ample store of frozen breast milk, but Kate and Warren were more than
equipped to handle Felix for a night.
For half a second, she’d contemplated asking Jensen to have Felix this
evening, but quickly vetoed the idea.
Jensen was lovely, and she genuinely believed he cared for Felix, but she
wasn’t confident in his ability to look after him without supervision—
especially when she would be drinking alcohol, potentially being out of
action for several hours.
Even if she did get shit-faced tonight, Talia knew Kate and Warren could
handle anything Felix threw at them.
She wasn’t so confident with Jensen.
 Maybe one day, she hoped.
Even thinking of yesterday lifted her spirits.
Had anything ever been as arousing as Jensen expertly collapsing his
son’s pushchair? The thought made her giggle. And then there had been him
in his swimming trunks…
Somehow, she’d forgotten just how muscular he was beneath his clothes,
and how savage the scars across his torso looked. Talia remembered how it
felt to touch his body, to take him in her mouth.
And how it felt to give birth to his son with only Darcy in the room to
support her.
The thought was like being doused in icy water.
She liked Jensen, but she didn’t trust him. Not yet. There was every
chance he’d get bored of parenting once the novelty of having a son wore
off.
Was he attractive and kind? Yes.
But was he dependable? That remained to be seen.
Talia was just giving herself a once over when she heard Felix yell from
the living room. It wasn’t an urgent cry, but he was certainly unhappy about
something.
She walked into the living room, her heels clipping a quick rhythm across
the floor, to find Felix in his walker—where she’d left him. The only
difference was that he was now stuck in the gap between the table and the
wall instead of propelling himself around the living room.
“Oh Felix,” she murmured, a giggle lifting her speech. She pulled the
walker out from the narrow gap, making a mental note to change things
around so he wouldn’t get stuck in the future.
Once he was free, Felix sped off in the direction of Quinn, sitting on the
couch, phone in hand.
“Are we all ready to go?” Talia asked him.
Quinn nodded, his eyes still on his phone. “Sure thing, just let me get to
the end of this video.”
Against the backdrop of the video’s commentary—from what Talia could
tell, it was something about cryptocurrency—she dressed Felix in his coat
and shoes. Or at least tried to. She could put on his coat without any issue,
but he simply refused to wear shoes at the moment.
Was it normal for a child to reject shoes this much? His shoes weren’t
even really shoes. They were more slippers, designed to get him used to
wearing shoes before he needed them.
“Ready,” Quinn announced, getting up off the sofa, shouldering on his
jacket, and jingling his keys.
The distraction was all Felix needed to kick off the single shoe Talia had
managed to put on.
With a sigh, Talia loaded him into the pushchair, his chubby little legs
flailing about. “Are you going to go stay with Kate and Warren for the
night, cyw?”
He let out a happy shout. Or a victorious one.
The trip down to the underground car park was quick, with Felix happily
squawking to himself all the way and Quinn carrying the mountain of items
Talia had packed.
Perhaps she had gone overboard, she admitted to herself, watching Quinn
loading three bags of stuff into the boot of his car. Or the trunk, as he called
it.
The drive to Warren and Kate’s house was long enough for Felix to fall
asleep, but the moment they hit their long, gravelled driveway, he woke
once more, glancing out into the darkness. Fences edged them in on either
side, and Talia knew that during the day horses would be roaming in the
fields beyond.
Up ahead, the Victorian farmhouse Kate called home loomed into view.
Climbing roses scaled the stone exterior, and in a few short weeks they
would bloom into a riot of colour.
Talia didn’t often mourn her lack of a garden, but sometimes those
climbing roses made her second-guess her decision to raise Felix in a flat.
The security lights flicked on as Quinn parked his car outside the duck-
egg blue front door, with Warren opening it a few moments later to greet
them. Warm light spilled onto the gravel—as did the two resident Jack
Russells.
Talia opened the door, bending to fuss up Leo and Snowbell until her
arms tired—at which point they promptly abandoned her and went to Quinn
for attention.
By the time she stepped out of the car, Warren already had all of the bags
out of the boot and Felix in his arms. “This bag has breast milk in it,” she
told him, pointing to the insulated one.
He nodded. “I’ll put it in the freezer. Kate is just upstairs attempting to
get Lucie to sleep.”
 “Thank you. And thank you for looking after him for the night.” Talia
pursed her lips to the side. Even the sight of Quinn peppering Leo and
Snowbell with kisses wasn’t enough to cheer her up. She was starting to
second guess herself again, but this time the climbing roses weren’t to
blame.
“It’s no trouble,” Warren assured her.
Up until this moment, the idea of Felix spending the night away from her
had been an abstract one. But now that it was here, Talia wanted to squeeze
him in her arms and never let him go.
She swallowed. “Are you sure you don’t mind? It’s not too late for me to
stay with him.”
Warren gave her a knowing look, passing Felix over to her. “It’ll be easier
once you’re away from him, I promise.”
“Will it?” she asked, feeling teary all of a sudden.
He nodded. “Trust me. The first time I had to leave Lucie after she was
born…” Warren shook his head, a soft look on his face. “Would you believe
I put my phone in the holder on my windscreen, but I didn’t have the
navigation on. I had a live feed of her baby monitor.”
Talia laughed out a smile. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I dunno,” Warren paused, looking to the side. “Jensen’s lessons are
pretty sweet, if you ask me.”
“Lessons?”
His brows drew together. “His how-to-look-after-a-baby lessons.”
She blinked. “What?”
Warren’s eyes danced in her direction, as though he had only just realised
something. “Jensen’s been coming here so I can teach him all the ins and
outs of caring for a baby. Changing nappies, feeding, bathing, getting them
to sleep. He has all his notes jotted down on his phone.”
Talia was quiet. He’d been having lessons?
Swallowing down the emotion rising in her throat, she pressed her lips to
Felix’s forehead in lieu of an answer.
Yep, that’d do it. That was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard.
She remembered him collapsing the pushchair after Felix’s swimming
lesson. He’d done that far too smoothly for a novice. “Would one of those
lessons be in folding and unfolding a pushchair?”
Warren didn’t even bother to conceal his lopsided grin. “It might have
been.”
 In the end, Warren was right. Talia might have sobbed her heart out after
saying goodbye to her son, wiping tears off her face the entire way back
down the gravel driveway, but by the time she and Quinn reached the
nightclub, excitement had built in her.
“Are you sure my make-up looks okay?” she whispered to Quinn, as the
vivid lighting from the bright Celestial sign above washed over them.
They joined the queue to get in, and Quinn nodded, rubbing her elbow.
“You look stunning,” he reassured her with a wink. “As always.”
Trying not to preen under the praise, she took his hand. “Thank you. And
thank you for being my designated driver tonight.”
Beneath his jacket, his muscular shoulders shrugged. “You don’t need to
thank me for that. I just want to ensure you get home safe.” Quinn gave her
a mock-stern look. “And that you don’t go home with any of these stuffy
British guys.”
“They’re not stuffy,” she spluttered, stepping forward with the rest of the
line. There was literally a guy sitting on the kerb over there, looking as
though he might puke at any second.
“They’re the stuffiest assholes I’ve ever met in my life. We just came
from a house that looks like it’s out of Pride and goddamn Prejudice, Talia.
Even your apartment block has a load of posh shit on it.”
She sealed her lips together, trying not to laugh. Or shiver. The cool night
air was beginning to bite her exposed skin, and goosebumps were rapidly
appearing.
“You know it’s true!” he pointed at her. “I can see it on your face.”
“You may have a point,” she said slowly, biting down on a smile.
Quinn knocked his shoulders against hers. “Damn right I have a point.”
Thankfully, the queue moved along quickly, or else Talia would have
been an icicle by the time the beefy security guard inspected their tickets,
quickly granting them access to Celestial. The music thumped as they
walked down the long corridor, but she was far too busy looking around to
notice.
It was… hypnotising.
Light surrounded every inch of the space, ever moving, ever changing. It
was the night’s sky, but not as she knew it. Interstellar clouds swirled
around them, pulsing and shimmering and interacting with each other.
Colours cycled between them, and Talia watched as two clouds seemed to
merge together in a mesmerising curl, responding to the beat of the music.
 She reached her hand up to touch it—
“Oh!” she gasped. Had that just responded to her touch? She swiped at it,
laughing when she realised that the swirling galaxies didn’t only interact
with each other and the music—they responded to her too.
Smiling, she traced a finger around a cloud, delighted when it swirled
faster. When she drew a line through it, the interstellar cloud was cut in
half, and each half whirled off, following its own trajectory.
Quinn moved closer, resting a hand on the small of her back. “That’s
insane.”
“Isn’t it?” Privately, she thought of how much Felix would love this. He’d
be entertained for hours, giggling to himself.
They walked further down the corridor, in line with a star shooting across
the wall, guiding them ever closer to the source of the music. And then,
finally, they walked into Celestial’s vast, awe-inspiring centre.
The corridor had been just a taster.
Talia came to a dead stop, gazing at the universe above her in wonder.
This was everything. Planets and stars, colliding and reforming, against a
backdrop of those mesmerising interstellar clouds she’d seen in the corridor.
Columns peppered the room like galactic thoroughfares, and she watched
as a waterfall of shooting stars travelled down from the ceiling to the floor,
only interrupted by the shadows of her fellow partygoers.
It was more spread out than a usual club, and Talia was glad of it. Perhaps
it was to maintain the illusion, to let the stars and planets and clouds move
around uninterrupted. Still, there was a sizeable crowd on the dancefloor to
her left, clustered around the pumping DJ set, interacting with the lights, or
—to her right—relaxing by the bar, an island in the galaxy.
“Talia! Quinn!”
She waved, sighting Darcy over by the bar. It was where the shooting
stars emerged from, splintering out in all directions, lighting up everything
in their path. On the other side of the teeming bar was a network of booths
and sofas. It was darker over here, and several couples were taking
advantage of the ability to slip into the shadows unseen.
“Happy birthday,” Talia exclaimed, enclosing her younger sister in an
enormous hug and getting a face full of chestnut hair for her troubles. She
choked back down her cough, pretending she hadn’t just inhaled a lungful
of hairspray. “You look amazing!”
 Darcy wiggled her hips, and her white sequinned dress glittered under
Celestial’s lighting, reflecting a thousand colours at once. “Thank you. So
do you.”
She hoped her sister couldn’t see how uncertain her smile was. Talia had
a wardrobe of gorgeous dresses… Except none of them fit her anymore.
She’d been hoping the baby weight would come off once she’d given
birth.
But Felix’s first birthday wasn’t too far away now, and yet here the
weight remained.
The dress she wore today was new, a royal blue one-shouldered mini
dress, with a handy fabric belt that fastened at her waist—concealing her
mummy tummy—and fell to her knees.
There was already a crowd of Darcy’s friends here, and she greeted them
all in turn. Before she’d even finished, Quinn touched her waist, a glass of
something in his hand.
Talia accepted it, taking her first sip of alcohol in eighteen months. She
had more than enough breast milk frozen to take a day or two off, especially
with weaning him.
Warren was right. It was easier once she was away from Felix. He was
likely asleep by now, whereas here she was, being dragged over to the
dancefloor by a jovial Darcy.
Talia let herself enjoy it, moving to the beat, drinking freely and riding on
her newfound freedom. It was easy to lose herself here, letting her
responsibilities wash away under the ever changing, ever moving, ever
beautiful lights.
It was like floating on air.
Letting her inhibitions loose, Talia danced like it was her last night on
earth.
She and Darcy danced together, holding their arms above their heads and
watching Celestial’s mind-boggling illuminations until it made them dizzy.
They giggled, each holding onto the other to keep them steady as the night
wore on.
The crowd around them grew rowdier, drunker, louder. The illuminations
moved faster, swirling and thumping in time with the beat.
Still dizzy, Talia stepped away as Darcy and her friend made a hurried
exit towards the shadowed booths behind the bar. Already off balance, she
trod on something on the dancefloor that sent her stumbling to the side—
 Quinn caught her, letting out an, “Ooof!”
Alcohol slowed her reactions, and she desperately clung to him to regain
her balance.
“All good?” he asked, his lips slowly curved, his eyelids lowering.
Quinn’s hands went to her hips, pulling her against his hard body. “Dance
with me.”
The night of the wedding came to mind as his hips ground against hers
for song after song. Your dad wants me to take care of you.
Then there was their kiss at Lux, before everything with Jensen…
Quinn had been there for her at every step. Doubt and alcohol rushed
through her mind as his hands eased over her hips, kneading handfuls of her
rear and pressing her ever tighter against him. Another song came and went,
but Talia heard little of it, realising that Quinn was moving them towards
the exit.
As they left the building, the abrupt darkness almost rendered her blind.
She stumbled when the pavement ended and the gravelled car park began,
just managing to stay on her feet.
Quinn led her to an alcove round the back of the club, his hand coming
up to her face to cradle her jaw. “I need you, Talia.”
Did he? Her single kiss with Quinn back at Lux had been… forgettable,
whereas her night with Jensen made her come alive. Even now, with
Quinn’s touch on her body, she didn’t feel desire.
It was just touch.
Before she noticed what was happening, Quinn pressed her against the
brick wall, knocking her head against it.
But then his lips were on hers, hungrily taking everything she had to
offer. His hips pressed in on her, but it wasn’t only the hardness of his torso
she felt this time; he thrust against her, letting her feel every inch of his
cock.
She was drunk. Far more than she’d realised. Her brain worked in slow
motion, whilst Quinn’s hands were everywhere at once. Her face. Her waist.
Her hips. Dragging up her dress.
“W-wait,” she stuttered, saying the only thing that came to her head.
“Stop. I don’t know if I want this.”
Quinn silenced her with a kiss. “You do, it’ll be okay. Open your le—”
Suddenly he choked, his hands coming up to his neck, desperately
scratching at the arm that had locked around it.
 But, even in her drunken state, Talia recognised the stranger’s voice. That
deep, rasping Scottish brawl that had purred to her at the peak of release,
and that had whispered words of comfort in her despair. She’d never heard
it seething with rage, however.
“Step back or I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”

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 17

Jensen

A llCelestial,
night. All night his conscience had been screaming at him to leave
to stop watching Talia from the shadows, to let her dance with
Quinn, to have his hands all over her body. If she went home with him, so
what? She may have been the mother of his child, but she wasn’t his
property.
Jensen was glad he’d listened to his instincts.
He dragged Quinn backwards, choking off his airway, all too tempted to
make the addition permanent.
“Get off me, asshole,” Quinn grunted, thrashing around, the words
vibrating against Jensen’s forearm.
“She’s drunk,” Jensen released his grip and shoved Quinn away, standing
as a barrier in front of Talia. “She told you to stop. That means you stop.”
“Jay?” Talia’s eyes rounded as she glanced up at him, tinged pink with
alcohol. “Why are you here?”
In the low light, he threw Quinn a filthy look. He was here for exactly
this reason. To make sure Quinn didn’t try and do what he just did. “To look
after you.”
Quinn had the gall to roll his eyes, massaging his throat. “Mind your own
business,” he said hoarsely. “Come on, Talia. We’re leaving.”
Talia wasn’t going anywhere with him. If Jensen had to drag her to his
car kicking and screaming, then so be it, but he’d rather have her make the
decision. He took her hand, relieved when she didn’t pull away. “Let me
take you home,” he implored her. “Or to Warren and Kate’s house, or your
dad’s house, or wherever. Just… where do you want me to take you?”
Her expression was a curious one. “Lessons,” she whispered, a hint of a
smile touching her lips.
“Lessons?” Jensen said blankly.
“You took lessons. How-to-look-after-a-baby lessons. Warren told me.”
Talia gave him a full smile, squeezing his hand.
Ignoring Quinn’s scoff, he nodded. “I need to know how to look after
Felix, don’t I?”
Especially if he was ever going to be trusted to be a proper father.
Truth be told, he had felt rejected when Talia hadn’t asked him to look
after Felix tonight. He was Felix’s father; he should be the first person she
could trust to care for their son.
But the more he thought about it, the more logical it was. They’d spent a
night together a year-and-a-half ago. Who in their right mind would hand
their child over to a complete stranger?
Jensen certainly wouldn’t. After everything that had happened to Aldous,
he knew well enough that even people who were supposedly trustworthy
could be anything but.
By not asking him to look after their son, she wasn’t rejecting Jensen. She
was protecting Felix.
Talia was doing what every good mother should do.
Her next words were so quiet he almost missed them. “Will you take me
home?”
Relief swam in front of his eyes like a haze. “Always.” He tucked her
under his shoulder, watching as Quinn turned to walk back towards
Celestial, muttering under his breath.
They were nearly at the car when an excitable screech tore across the car
park. “Talia!”
Jensen turned in time to see Darcy sliding across the gravel, her heels
scattering the stones beneath her. “Are you two finally sneaking off to take
things—?” Her eyes blew wide when she looked at him. “Oh. You’re not
Quinn.”
“Thankfully,” he drawled.
Darcy gave his chest a sloppy pat. “Well I think she should pick you
anyway. From everything she’s told me I think you’re sweet. Even if my
dad thinks you’re a cradle-snatching cunt.”
He would have laughed if a movement from Talia hadn’t caught his eye.
She shivered as an icy wind cut through them. “Here,” he muttered,
shouldering off his jacket and covering her with it. It dwarfed her as he
zipped it up, but at least she had some protection from the elements.
He needed to get her out of the cold.
“How are you getting home, Darcy?” he frowned, concern edging into his
voice. “Do you need a lift?”
Darcy shook her head, wrapping Talia in a hug. “There’s my lift.” She
pointed to a taxi near the front of the car park, the driver tapping his fingers
on the steering wheel and the guy she’d been with earlier fidgeting on the
backseat. “Me and my housemate are going to bed.” She lowered her voice
in a drunken whisper. “But don’t tell my dad.”
Jensen waved her off, settling Talia in the passenger seat as he watched
Darcy fall into the back of the cab, swiftly followed by a round of hacking
laughter from both Darcy and her housemate.
The same housemate that Darcy had been enjoying some alone time with
in the darkened booths behind the bar—alarmingly close to where he’d
been sitting.
At least Jensen knew Darcy and her housemate were both as drunk as
each other, and their antics had been enthusiastically consensual.
So enthusiastically consensual he’d had to move booths to stop hearing it.
Christ, he was never going to be able to look Euan in the eye again.
The drive back to Talia’s flat was a long one, but he didn’t mind.
Thoughts of what could have happened if he hadn’t been there churned in
his gut. Quinn had been plastering her with drinks since they’d walked into
Celestial, but Jensen had been close enough to the bar to hear that he’d only
ordered soft drinks for himself.
Talia was asleep by the time they reached her flat, her cheek adorably
squashed up against the passenger window. With some careful adjustments,
Jensen carried her into the flat block—this time entering through the front
entrance instead of the back.
Quietly, Jensen scanned his phone against the smart lock on her front
door—another helpful addition from Roman’s security guy, Tarik. Even if
she had been awake, she was drunk enough to potentially overlook it.
The now-familiar sight of her flat greeted him as he locked the door
behind them. For a moment, he simply stood, glancing down at her, finally
looking at her for as long as he wanted. The last time he’d been able to do
this they were in New York, and she was sleeping in his arms. So many
things had happened since then. So many things had changed.
And yet… everything was the same. Jensen still felt that deep protective,
possessive instinct; she was his, and his alone. Initially, he’d tried to
suppress it. When he thought she was still in New York studying, he’d told
himself that she was better off without him. She was too young for him.
They were at completely different stages in their lives. They may share a
child, but that didn’t mean they needed to be together.
Even earlier this evening, he’d convinced himself he was going to look
after her, to protect her. Warren had said this was her first evening out since
having Felix, and Jensen wanted her to enjoy it, to let her hair down without
worry.
But now there was no hiding it from himself. He went there to look after
her… because she was his.
Suddenly, he’d had enough of his own excuses. That deep, protective,
possessive instinct had known it all along, and he finally unleashed it. It
purred at the feel of her safely in his arms; it was where she was always
meant to be.
What was the alternative? She end up with someone like Quinn, who
bowled over her defences in favour of his own needs?
Jensen may be older than her, but that only meant he knew how to treat
her right.
Stepping around the baby walker next to the front door, Jensen made his
way into Talia’s bedroom. The only room in the house he hadn’t seen. He
wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting.
Two bookcases greeted him, one on either side of the bed, full to the brim
with books in every colour under the sun. Titles he’d never heard of stared
back at him, but a few jumped out. Western Medicine, An Illustrated
History by Irvine Loudon. Mayes’ Midwifery. The Oxford Handbook of
Obstetrics and Gynaecology.
Ever so gently, Jensen lowered her onto the bed, brushing a stray lock of
hair from her eyes. It was a losing battle, he feared. A red river of curls
flowed across her pillow, and something else occurred to him.
Back in New York, they’d talked about her hair—and he distinctly
remembered her saying how important it was for her to wear something at
night…
 But what in the ever-living fuck was it?
Jensen looked around, hoping inspiration would come to him. After a few
blank moments, he found it lying on her bedside table. The only thing he
could describe it as was an elasticated swimming cap made of silk. He
turned it inside out, inspecting it closely. Surely this was it? Or was this
some kind of purse to keep stuff in?
No, there were loose red hairs curled up in there. This was definitely a
hair-related item.
He looked at the silk swimming cap to Talia and back again. How the hell
was he supposed to get this on her head?
Tapping his fingers on her bedside table for a few seconds, Jensen pulled
his phone out and turned to Google. The first tutorial was a video, but he’d
barely clicked on it before sound blared out of his speakers. He hurriedly
turned it down, sending Talia a panicked look.
Relieved to find her still asleep, he carried on watching. Lean upside
down. Put the cap on. Put the curls up inside the cap. Fasten cap. Stop
calling it a cap because it was apparently called a bonnet. That didn’t seem
too difficult.
If the woman the curls were attached to wasn’t fast asleep.
Jensen sighed and got to it, carefully working through each step.
Surprisingly, Talia didn’t stir throughout the entire process, happily
snoozing away as he poked and prodded. Every time he thought he was
done, another curl seemed to have popped out.
At the end of it, he wasn’t sure he’d tied the bonnet tight enough for it to
stay on overnight, but it was the tightest he was willing to put it.
He chose not to take her out of her dress. It would be uncomfortable to
sleep in, but he guessed she’d be even more uncomfortable to find he’d
undressed her without consent.
After he’d taken her shoes off and tucked her in, Jensen put the empty
bathroom bin next to her bed and put a glass of water and a packet of
painkillers on her bedside table. They were the painkillers he carried around
for Rhys’s migraines, but he had spares.
His work finally done, Jensen turned off the light, pulled her bedroom
door to, and stretched out on the couch, exhausted.

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 18

Talia

o you went out with Quinn last night, kissed him, but then Jensen
“S took you home?” Mia asked, sitting on the opposite side of the table.
She frowned, clearly trying to understand the clusterfuck Talia had
created for herself.
“I think so,” Talia replied, undoing Reggie from his pushchair to save
Mia from bending. Being in the third trimester of pregnancy was hard
enough without having a child to care for. Reggie jumped down,
disappearing into the soft play jungle in front of them. “The most
embarrassing thing is I don’t remember either.” She gave a surreptitious
look behind her before taking her phone out of her pocket, pulling up the
security app. Thankfully none of the other mums and dads were near
enough to overhear them. “Watch this video. It’s from the security cameras
in my flat at about four o’clock this morning.”
The enormous soft play jungle loomed in front of them, covered in
brightly-coloured netting and tunnels and slides. Children zoomed around
inside and out, occasionally waving to tired parents nursing cups of coffee.
Talia would have been one of them without the tablets left by Jensen.
Whatever was in them had, thankfully, rid her of her hangover.
Leaning back in her chair, Mia paused the video almost instantly. On the
screen, Jensen was frozen as he lay her on the bed, still fully dressed. “Wait,
this is the guy you had a one night stand with?” she hissed, eyes wide, her
lip already curling. “You never showed me what he looked like before!”
“I know,” she admitted, a grin splitting her face. She had to share the
video with someone. It was too precious to keep to herself, to the point
where she just wanted to squeeze Jensen’s cheeks for being so adorable.
“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”
“Um yes. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Does he have a
brother?”
“Two cousins… who are now technically my step-brothers.”
Mia gasped, rubbing an absent-minded hand over her swollen stomach.
“We could be sisters!”
“I’m not marrying him,” Talia snorted. “And you’re spoken for.” At least
until you dump your controlling prick of a boyfriend.
Blinking innocently, her friend gave a coquettish smile. “I’m fine with
being shared.”
“Of course you are,” Talia pressed play on the video, a wry smile on her
face. Somehow she didn’t think Cameron would be quite as nonchalant
about sharing, especially when he wouldn’t even let Mia have male friends.
“Watch the rest. It’s on double speed.”
Mia’s smile faded as it played, watching Jensen put on her silk bonnet
and tuck her into bed, until she let out a hushed noise. “Okay,” Mia told her,
handing back her phone. “If you don’t marry that man, I will. Because that
was so cute it was sickening. And you kicked him out this morning?!”
“I didn’t kick him out!” Talia exclaimed. “He was sleeping on the couch
when I woke up. In my defence, I expected Quinn to be there so I had no
idea what was going on. He basically explained that he drove me home,
asked if I needed anything, and then left of his own accord. It was only
when I watched the security cameras back to piece everything together that
I saw that.”
In the video, she’d seen how Jensen had just stood there after closing her
front door, gazing at her with such affection in her eyes it filled her chest
with a soft, warm feeling she didn’t want to name.
They hardly knew each other. There was no way she was falling for him.
None at all.
Definitely none at all. Just like she definitely hadn’t rewatched it multiple
times already.
 She hadn’t shared that bit of footage with Mia. Talia wanted to keep that
to herself.
It had been fairly easy to work out how to save the footage, but she really
needed to sit down and figure out the app. There had been a load of
screenshots that she hadn’t taken, and videos she hadn’t saved. Most were
of Felix, but there were a couple of her too. Presumably the app was saving
them automatically—none of them were particularly interesting, just
mundane, everyday snippets of life.
Or, a conspiratorial voice whispered into her ear, someone else has
access to this app.
Don’t be so silly, she told it.
“Hey Reggie!” Mia called out, waving back to her son high up at the top
of the soft play jungle, pausing in front of a slide. “I’m watching. Go
ahead.”
Reggie slid down it, jumping up at the end to check if Mia was watching,
and both Talia and Mia gave him a round of applause. Pleased with their
offering, Reggie shot them a wide smile and disappeared back into the maze
of children.
Mia’s voice returned to her normal volume. “Wait, so why did he take
you home and not Quinn?”
Talia hesitated, not sure how to answer. “He said because Quinn wasn’t
safe to be around when I was drunk.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Talia took her phone again, displaying her call log… and the eight missed
calls from Quinn. Not to mention the barrage of texts she hadn’t opened.
“I’m not sure yet.”
Talia knew Jensen didn’t like Quinn. Was this just jealousy? Quinn had
had plenty of opportunities to hurt her over the past few months, and he
hadn’t taken any of them. He was her friend. He wouldn’t hurt her.
On the other hand, Quinn was blowing up her phone this morning, so
clearly something had fucking happened.
Ugh, this is why I don’t drink very often. She hated trying to piece
together what had happened on a night out.
Mia’s face twisted, her dark left eyebrow almost comically quirked.
“Have you called him back yet?”
“Not yet. I’ve been putting it off.”
“Why?”
 “Either Jensen is exaggerating,” she swallowed. “Or he’s not.”
Mia sipped on her coffee, the steam rising between them. “Meaning?”
Not knowing how to explain her hesitancy, Talia tapped her fingers on the
table. “Meaning why was Jensen even there last night? How did he end up
being the one to take me home?”
“I mean, you could just ask him.”
“Yeah, that’s another thing I’ve been putting off,” she admitted, rubbing
her forehead. “Because if he just turned up at the club that means he
followed me there.”
Or he was coincidentally at the exact nightclub she’d told him she was
going to on the exact day.
Talia had overlooked him breaking into her flat purely because he’d given
her the means to keep him out in the future, but Mia herself had
demonstrated the slow slide of a relationship with a controlling partner.
Controlling turned into restrictive, cutting off friendships and
acquaintances. And then, when there was no one left to witness it,
restrictive turned into abusive.
I don’t want him to turn into Cameron.
“And if Jensen is exaggerating about Quinn, that means he’s trying to
turn me against a friend I’ve had since I was at Columbia.” Just like
Cameron would. “But if he’s not exaggerating, then what was Quinn doing
that was so terrible? Why isn’t he safe to be around?”
The look Mia gave her wasn’t unsympathetic. “All of your questions
could be answered by calling them both, you know that, right?”
Talia chewed on her lip. “But what if I don’t like the answers?”
Thankfully, Mia changed the subject, pulling out a notebook and asking
Talia to help sort out her birth plan. It was something she excelled at—
dealing with pregnancy, and she was only too happy to let Mia use her
knowledge of the birthing process.
Because it made her feel like she’d accomplished something for the day;
her drive had been quenched, albeit only briefly.
By the time they left the soft play, Talia felt happy with the progress
they’d made, waving goodbye to Mia and Reggie as they left to visit one of
Cameron’s relatives.
Talia wondered if they knew what kind of person Cameron was.
Jealous. Controlling. Manipulative.
Everything she hoped Jensen wasn’t.
 The walk back to her flat wasn’t a short one, but Warren wasn’t going to
be dropping Felix off for another hour. She took a route that would allow
her to walk along the Embankment—beside the Thames. It felt strange to be
without a pushchair for once, as though she’d left her flat half-dressed. Not
that it would have been much of a problem; the temperatures were warming
up after the winter, and the clear blue sky above lifted her spirits. All
around, greenery bloomed into life, with the first flowers already unfurling.
Having lived in London all her life, Talia couldn’t imagine living without
the convenience of everything at her fingertips. And if the convenience
wasn’t enough, then there was the history offered by the city.
Talia stopped, leaning on the wall guarding the river. Even the history
offered by the Thames was never-ending. Anyone could go down to the
mudbanks and find old pottery or coins or pipes. If they were lucky, they
could find something truly spectacular. If they weren’t, they could return
the next time the tide went out, ready to see what else had washed up on
London’s shores.
She loved it. The hustle and the bustle, the heaving crowds on the tube,
the constant sound of buses and cabs, the parks, the river, the shops, the
museums, the galleries. Sweltering summer days sunbathing in Hyde Park
and the freezing wind whipping her cheeks pink in the run up to Christmas.
How could she have ever wanted to leave?
Talia sighed, smiling out across the Thames. London was home, and it
always would be.
Keeping an eye on the time, she dipped into the bakery near her flat for
lunch, her stomach grumbling. Calm down, she told it, paying for her usual
sausage roll and donut combo.
She was scanning her key card at the mansion block’s front entrance
when she heard a familiar voice.
“Talia!” Quinn called, jogging up the dark grey pavement, his black hair
jostling with the movement.
On any other day, she’d have joked about him jogging—one of the few
forms of exercise that he completely eschewed, deeming it not masculine
enough. Today, though, her stomach dropped at the sight of him.
She’d been hoping to put the conversation off for a few hours, at the very
least.
“Hi,” she offered.
 “I’ve been calling you for hours,” he stressed, running his hand through
his hair. “What happened with Jensen? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him, moving to the side to allow another resident
to get out of the door.
Quinn engulfed her in a hug, squishing her lunch between them. “Did he
touch you?”
The other resident side-eyed her way past them.
For god’s sake. She’d rather not air her business out in public. “Keep
your voice down,” she hissed, ushering Quinn inside. “And no, he didn’t.”
“Well you didn’t respond to my calls or messages, what was I supposed
to think?”
“I don’t know,” Talia stabbed at the lift button, their voices bounding
across the cool marble foyer. “Maybe that I’ve been out and haven’t looked
at my phone yet.”
Quinn followed her into the lift, the doors slowly closing behind them.
“Or any number of awful possibilities,” he countered, brows pinched
together.
Silence fell as the lift stopped on the third floor to let another resident on,
and neither of them broke it until she unlocked the door to her empty flat. A
quick look at her phone told her that Warren and Felix weren’t due to arrive
for another fifteen minutes.
Good. Fifteen minutes was more than enough time to get the mystery of
last night’s events untangled.
Talia wondered how to approach this. Either Jensen was a controlling
stalker, or Quinn was, in Jensen’s words, unsafe to be around when she was
drunk.
But Talia had one advantage: Quinn didn’t know that she didn’t
remember what happened.
“Sit,” she said, putting her lunch on the coffee table and folding her arms.
“We need to talk about last night.”
“What about it?”
Dammit. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t just throw it back to her.
Talia lifted her eyebrow, looking down at him sprawled across the couch.
“About everything that happened with Jensen,” she snorted, keeping things
vague. Please make sense.
Clearly something had happened with Jensen if he ended up, firstly, at
Celestial and, secondly, taking her home.
 Quinn huffed, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Talia. I have some
questions for you too. Why were you throwing yourself at me one minute
and asking him to take you home the next? Why did you just leave me there
after I looked out for you all night?”
So she had asked Jensen to take her home. And Jensen was telling the
truth—she had kissed Quinn. Her suspicions of Jensen receded, but she
wasn’t sure what was left behind. “Are you mad at me for kissing you?”
Quinn got to his feet, approaching her with slow, steady steps. “No,” he
murmured, taking her hand. “I’m mad because… because the moment he
turns up again, you roll out the red carpet for him. He abandoned you,
Talia.” His touch was a whisper against her cheek. “But you can’t see
what’s right in front of you.”
Oh. “Quinn…” Her heart sank. He was wrong; she could see very well
what was right in front of her.
She just didn’t want it.
“I was there right from the start. Do you remember who was there for you
at Lux before you went out on stage? Who was there when you woke up?
Who was there when you found out you were pregnant? Do you know why
I accepted the scholarship to study in London?”
Talia shook her head, but she could sense where this was going.
“It’s because from the moment we met…” Quinn cut himself off, his
throat jumping in his indecision. Wait, is that a bruise? “I have wanted you
with every bone in my body. I’ve been patient. So why did you abandon me
for that asshole?”
“He’s not an arsehole for wanting to be part of mine and Felix’s lives,
Quinn,” Talia said earnestly. “He is Felix’s father.”
“Because he’s done such a great job of that so far, hasn’t he? Knocking
you up and then leaving you to raise his kid? I just didn’t think you’d be
shallow enough to spread your fucking legs for him again.”
Taken aback, Talia blinked. “I haven’t done that.”
“Haven’t you?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“No!”
Quinn snorted in disbelief. “Do you think I haven’t seen this exact pattern
with my mom? He’s just going to break your heart—again. Except it’ll be
worse this time, because you’re going to let him break his son’s heart too.”
“Whatever you think, Quinn, I genuinely believe that Jensen cares for
Felix.” And for me.
 “I genuinely can’t believe you’d be so stupid, quite frankly. If he wanted
you that much he would have left you more than a fucking business card
behind.”
The insult struck her hard, taking the wind out of her. Talia glared up at
him, her eyes brimming with reproach. “You don’t have to be cruel,” she
whispered.
The buzzer rang, stealing both of their attentions. Sighing, she walked
over to the speaker, hoping her voice wasn’t going to betray her emotions.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Warren.”
“Come up,” she told him, holding the button down to give him access.
She stayed facing the wall longer than necessary, surreptitiously wiping at
her eyes.
Quinn’s voice echoed in her mind, the lump in her throat growing with
every repetition. If he wanted you that much he would have left you more
than a fucking business card behind.
Was he wrong?
Talia thumbed another tear away, trying to get a hold of herself before
Warren appeared. She didn’t want Felix to see her crying. Somewhere in the
midst of a deep breath, something occurred to her.
“I don’t…” she blinked, turning round to face Quinn. “I don’t think I ever
said anything about Jensen leaving a business card.”
It hadn’t been that long since they’d had the discussion, after all. She
could remember Quinn’s reply as clear as day.
A note? Well how fuckin’ convenient he’s only bringing that up now.
In front of her, Quinn frowned. “What?”
Her voice strengthened, her confidence in her accusation growing. “I only
told you he left a note. Jensen and I are the only ones who know about the
business card.”
“Obviously you mentioned it at some point,” he spat, rolling his eyes and
letting out a derisive chuff. That is definitely a bruise around his throat.
“Because how else would I have known?”
How else?
“You were the one to wake me up that morning,” she hissed. “You said it
yourself a moment ago. Jensen left the note on the bedside table. But then
you come in and the note is nowhere to be seen.”
 Quinn stayed silent for a moment, his dark eyes flicking between hers.
“One of the cleaners must have—”
“Nope,” she cut him off, whisking her hand through the air. “You woke
me up because the cleaners needed to get in there.”
His throat bobbed again, and Talia barely managed to stop herself from
wrapping her hands around it.
Seems like there’s a lot of that going around.
Her entire pregnancy had been haunted by the fact that Jay had
supposedly abandoned her. She’d given birth without him, thinking he
didn’t give two fucks about her… about them.
What was it Jensen had said, when she discovered he’d broken in?
I would have been there every step of the way, Talia. From the morning
sickness and stretchmarks and swollen feet to caring for you during the
birth. I would have been there for every sleepless night, every nappy
change, every tantrum, everything.” Pain threaded every word, but he
didn’t stop. “I would have loved him from the beginning, as he deserved.
It was time they’d never get back.
“You robbed us of everything,” Talia snarled, hating that tears fell from
her eyes. “You heard me sobbing about being abandoned, about having to
raise my child alone, about Felix growing up without a father, when it was
you who took it all from me.”
Quinn didn’t even bother to defend himself this time, taking a step
forward, his eyes dark with possession. “I had you first,” he snarled through
gritted teeth.
“Get out,” Talia hissed, shaking with anger. “Get out, you two-faced
fucking coward.”
A crisp knock on the door interrupted whatever Quinn had been about to
say. Talia wiped her face, removing the tears on her cheeks. She took a deep
breath and unlocked the door.
Warren stood there, holding Felix in one hand and the three overnight
bags in the other.
“Hiiii baby,” Talia said, her voice much too high. Felix lunged for her
happily, and she swooped in to take him, twisting him in her arms and
peppering his head with kisses. “Come in, come in, come in. How were you
for Warren and Kate?”
“Much better behaved than Lucie was,” Warren smiled, an uncertain curl
in his tone. He looked between her and Quinn with a frown, his eyes
lingering on the tears in her own. “Everything okay?”
Talia nodded. “Quinn was just about to give me my spare key back and
leave.”
Jensen was right. She didn’t remember what had happened last night, but
after Quinn’s behaviour today, she believed Jensen. If Quinn wasn’t safe to
be around when she was drunk, he wasn’t safe to be around when she was
sober. And he certainly wasn’t safe enough to have a key to her flat.
“I actually think it would be bet—”
Warren bulldozed straight over him. “Shut the fuck up and take out your
keys.”
Quinn looked at Talia, clearly hoping for a reprieve. It hadn’t been that
long ago that Talia had mentioned Warren had spent a decade in prison for
murder.
Warren gave Quinn a patronising smile as he took out his keys. “Good
boy. Now give them here.”
“It’s this one,” Talia interrupted, tapping the relevant key.
Quickly detaching it, Warren handed it to her before holding the keys out
to Quinn.
Quinn reached for them—but Warren let them fall to the floor with a
metallic thunk.
Snatching them up, Quinn gave them a filthy look before Warren clapped
him on the shoulder and steered him out of the flat, closing the door behind
him.
The tears returned with a vengeance then, and Talia hugged Felix to her
breast, not wanting him to see her cry.
Warren’s face fell. He came closer, pulling her into his embrace. “It’s
okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe. You’re alright.”
A sob escaped her then.
She was safe, true, but the damage was already done.

OceanofPDF.com
 19

Jensen

T hebother
tyres squealed as Jensen pulled up outside Talia’s flat. He didn’t
finding somewhere proper to park, simply slinging the car
wherever it could fit. There was no doubt he’d find a fixed penalty notice
slapped onto the windscreen when he returned, but fuck it.
He’d been in a meeting with the joint venture’s CEO when the alert on
his phone rang out, warning him that Quinn’s voice had been detected in
Talia’s flat. He’d opened up the app in a panic, spying on what was being
said. The few minutes until Warren’s arrival had been agonising, with
Jensen sat in traffic on the other side of London, glued to his phone as he
watched their discussion play out in real time.
When Quinn finally confessed, Jensen almost crushed the steering wheel
in his grip, the rage coming off him in waves.
He slammed on the button for Talia’s flat, waiting anxiously for an
answer.
“Yep?” came Warren’s voice.
“It’s me,” he replied. The buzzer sounded a second later, and Jensen
pushed through the block’s glass front door.
Across the foyer, the lift opened. A glowering blond man exited, staring
daggers at his phone. Jensen rushed forward, shoving his hand in between
the lift doors as they closed, managing to catch it by the skin of his teeth.
 It was a relief when he finally knocked on Talia’s door—and even more
of a relief when she threw it open. Her lips twisted with emotion when she
saw him, a glassy sheen in her eyes. “J—” she choked, her voice
immediately breaking.
Jensen lifted her off the floor, crushing her against his chest. He was
fucking furious at Quinn, but Talia needed him more. She threw her arms
around his neck, trusting him to hold her steady. The first hint of moisture
touched his cheek, just as Talia’s shoulders shuddered. “I’ve got you,” he
whispered into her ear. “I’ve got you, baby girl.”
Closing the front door behind him, Jensen walked into the flat. The living
room was deserted, but through Felix’s bedroom door he could see a sliver
of Warren sitting on the floor. Clacking noises sounded, as though two
plastic toys were being slammed together—closely followed by Felix
burbling.
Seeking privacy, Jensen took Talia through to her bedroom. If anything,
her cries worsened when they were alone, the door sealing them in their
own little world. “Warren messaged me. He told me everything,” he
murmured, stroking her hair. Warren hadn’t messaged him a thing, but how
else would he have known without the cameras? “I’m sorry, Talia.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” she sniffed, setting her feet back on
the floor. Her cheeks were sodden. “This whole time I was blaming you for
not being here for us when…”
Talia trailed off, looking up at him with a look of such despondency that
it almost broke his heart.
Jensen held her face in his hands, thumbing away her tears. “There’s only
one person to blame here, and it’s not you.”
“Except I let him into my life. I cost us so much.”
“How could you have known? You’re not responsible for someone else’s
actions.”
The corners of her lips twitched. A tear ran down her cheek, but she
turned away from him. Her focus landed on the bed. “Thank you for taking
care of me last night.”
Jensen tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll always take care
of you. And Felix.”
Talia frowned, her gaze resting on the unmade bed. “What did Quinn do
last night that made you think he was so untrustworthy?”
He blinked. “You don’t remember?”
 “I remember the two of you arguing.”
Shit. He knew her memory of last night was bound to be a bit hazy, but
he didn’t realise she didn’t remember it at all. “You were drunk, and he was
stone cold sober. I saw him leading you out of Celestial, so I followed. And
I found him shoving you up against a wall with his hands up your dress.”
Jensen gritted his teeth, tension rapping a beat in his jaw. The words
scraped out of his throat. “You told him to stop. And he told you to open
your legs.”
Her eyelids flickered over her watery stare. “Oh.”
Jensen went to speak, to comfort her, to try and take that heart-wrenching
look off her face, but Talia surprised him.
She reached for him.
And somehow, despite everything that had happened to keep them apart,
Jensen knew she was exactly where she was meant to be, safe in his arms.
He swept her up into his embrace, almost intoxicated by how right this
felt.
“Thank you,” she murmured into his ear, her arms wrapped around his
neck.
A shiver ran down his spine at the feel of her lips against his skin. He
made a gruff noise of acknowledgment, realising how exhausted she
seemed, made all too clear by the purple blush beneath her eyes. “Did you
not go back to bed after I left?”
Talia shook her head.
He pulled her under his chin, dropping a kiss on her head. “Why don’t
you try and get a few hours’ sleep now? Warren and I will look after Felix
for the afternoon.”
She moved towards the bed, her hand running down the length of his arm.
Her touch lingered when she got to his hand. “Come with me.”
That possessive instinct fired inside him, moving his legs forward, until
he was sliding between the covers with her—and all he could smell was the
soft, delicate perfume she’d worn last night. “You need to sleep.”
Nestling in the crook of his shoulder, Talia looked up at him, her eyes
briefly pausing at his lips. “I never slept as well as I did in your arms.”
“Then sleep.” He brushed her hair aside, smiling slightly. “I’ll be here to
keep you safe.”
 After finally getting his son to sleep, Jensen tiptoed out of Felix’s room.
He closed the door millimetre by millimetre, letting out a relieved breath.
The afternoon had been… hectic. How Talia managed to sleep through it
all, he’d never know.
He’d held her for as long as he could, but eventually Warren had sent a
text through saying that he had to leave. Afterwards, for the first time ever,
Jensen had been left to look after his son alone.
He’d tried to follow the same routine Talia did, but his ability to put on a
nappy needed some refining. As did his ability to dispose of the bastard
things. It had taken him a good 20 minutes to work out how to use the fancy
nappy bin in Felix’s bedroom.
And then there was getting Felix to sleep…
Letting out a long breath, Jensen sat on the couch. His head fell back
against it, but he couldn’t help but smile, his heart constricting whenever he
thought of Felix snoozing in his cot.
Jensen had known that parents loved their children to a mind-blowing
degree, but experiencing it for himself was something else entirely. There
was so much of himself in Felix.
And so much of Talia.
“You look happy,” a soft voice said.
Talia stood in the doorway to her bedroom, her fiery curls draped across
one shoulder.
He shrugged. “I was thinking about our son.”
A smile touched her lips as she came to sit next to him, reclining back
against the couch. “Is he asleep?”
“Just about.”
“Are you all by yourself?” Talia’s eyebrow lifted. “Isn’t Warren here?”
“He left a few hours ago.”
Her eyes blew wide, and she glanced towards Felix’s room. “Why didn’t
you wake me? You didn’t have to babysit him.”
Something about that felt… wrong. “I don’t think a dad can really babysit
his own son. It might just be called parenting at that point.”
 A half-chuckle left her. She curled her legs up underneath her, wearing a
pair of thick, fluffy socks. “True. And how did you find your first day of
parenting?”
Jensen might as well be truthful. There was every chance she was going
to watch the security footage back. “I was defeated by a nappy bin.”
The giggle she let out had him wanting to pull her into his arms. “You run
a company worth billions of pounds, but you couldn’t figure out a nappy
bin?”
“I’m an owner, not a CEO. All I know how to do is attend infrequent
business meetings and watch dividends arrive in my bank account.”
Talia’s shoulders raised in a brief shrug, her fingers fiddling with a loose
strand on her fluffy socks. “You took over for the CEO when you came to
New York.”
“Mm,” he acknowledged, the edge of his lip curling in fond
remembrance. “One of the best decisions I ever made.”
She reared back slightly. “Really?”
Jensen’s nod was a comfortable one. “I met you, didn’t I?”
Before that night, his life had been all of a pattern. He had a family he
loved, and a job he enjoyed. He may have played down just how much of
his time it took up, but now he had more important things to focus on. So
what if he was less involved in his business dealings in the future?
Just look at what he’d gained.
Biting her lip, Talia leant towards him. “Would you ever wan—?”
A loud, shrill ringing filled the room. Jensen turned his head. “Is that
coming from Felix’s room?”
“Nope!” Talia leapt to her feet, her socks skidding across the wooden
flooring. She disappeared into her bedroom, and a few seconds later the
noise ended. “Hey Darcy,” she said.
Ah. That was her ringtone, then.
Jensen stood, padding over to Felix’s bedroom. He leant up against the
door, but it was silent within. Good. His little boy was still fast asleep.
Talia’s voice was soft as she spoke to her sister, but Jensen moved to
stand in her bedroom doorway. He waited until he caught her eye, lowering
his voice to a murmur. “Do you want me to cook dinner?”
“One sec, Darce.” She pressed the phone against her shoulder, burying
the microphone in fabric. “For me?”
“For you.”
 She nodded, a blush coming to her cheeks. “I’d like that.”
Whilst Talia spoke to her sister, Jensen got to work in the kitchen. He’d
heard her mention her favourite meal on the security cameras a few days
ago—macaroni and cheese. The knowledge may have been acquired using
underhanded means, but Jensen needed all the help he could get.
He was thankful her favourite dish was a simple one. He had to pop down
to the shops for a couple of things, but other than that Talia already had
everything they needed in her kitchen.
Strangely, he hadn’t expected to enjoy it this much; cooking Talia dinner
as she chatted on the phone, knowing that he’d put their son to bed.
For this afternoon at least, Jensen felt like he’d finally pulled his weight
as a father.
When he put Talia’s meal on the table in front of her, she seemed almost
shy. Was she not used to people taking care of her? She soon would be, that
primal instinct within him promised.
Their conversation flowed over dinner, and he found himself thinking
that he would be happy spending every day like this—just the three of
them, as a family.
He never wanted it to end.
Talia was apparently thinking along the same lines. “Do you want to stay
a bit longer?” she asked after dinner, pointing towards the deep, plush sofa
he’d slept on last night. “We could watch a film or something.”
Or something.
He nodded, in no hurry to leave. “I’d like that.”
As Jensen settled on the couch, Talia moved towards the armchair. A
second later, however, she returned, fluffy blanket in hand, to sit next to
him. “If you want to recline your seat, there’s a button down the side,” she
told him, her feet slowly rising as she reclined her own.
Huh. He wish he’d realised that last night. The sofa would have been a lot
comfier to sleep on if he had.
By the time his seat finished reclining, Talia had dimmed the lights and
was already scrolling through her streaming services.
“What do you fancy?” she asked, briefly stopping to unfurl the blanket
over her legs—and Jensen’s.
He paused before replying, casting his eye over her recently watched
titles. “You watch a lot of military films.”
 “Oh,” Talia’s lips thinned. “Those are all films Quinn and I watched
actually. Mostly him, if I’m honest.”
A fresh wave of anger filled him at the mention of Quinn’s name,
followed by a burst of jealousy. How many times had Quinn sat where
Jensen was sitting now, huddled under the same blanket? “We can still
watch military stuff if you enjoy it.”
“It’s never really been my thing.”
Jensen frowned. There was nothing but military titles in her recently
watched list. “Is this his account?”
“No,” she admitted. “It’s mine. But whenever I picked a film he just
ended up nitpicking everything he didn’t like about it and…” Talia sighed.
“It was just easier to let him pick what he wanted.”
He could imagine. “Pick whatever you want,” he told her. “I won’t say a
thing.”
“But what if I pick something you hate?”
He snorted. “I visited Warren yesterday. There was some kids show
blaring on the TV the entire time. If I sat through that without complaint,
then I can sit through anything.”
Talia gave him a challenging look, flicking through the algorithmic
barrage of action and adventure until she found what she was looking for.
“Ready?”
“Sure. What’s it called?”
“Bridgerton.”
It sounded familiar. “Wasn’t this big a few years back?”
“It was,” she confirmed, the opening credits beginning to play.
True to his word, Jensen didn’t make a sound throughout the whole thing
—although it wasn’t until the ‘watch next episode’ prompt appeared that he
realised it wasn’t a film at all.
Talia paused it, glancing up at him. “What do you think?”
“It’s miles better than the show Lucie was watching yesterday,” he
confirmed.
“I meant,” she laughed, “do you want to carry on watching or shall I
switch it to something more manly?”
He let out a snort. “Carry on watching. My masculinity has remained
intact so far, but I’ll keep you updated.”
His masculinity stayed intact for the second episode, and the third and the
fourth. By the time the fifth episode came around, the atmosphere was
relaxed around them. Talia had cozied up under the blankets, until he could
feel the warmth of her body down his entire right side.
Jensen stretched out his arm along the back of the sofa, the two of them
occasionally sharing their thoughts as the show played out before them.
The longer it went on, the more unsure he became.
Last night, Jensen had convinced himself that Talia was supposed to be
his, and yet his mind was reminding him of all the reasons she shouldn’t be.
She was twenty years younger than him.
She was his best friend’s daughter. She was young enough to be his own
fucking daughter.
And, most of all, hadn’t he done enough damage to her life?
Jensen could never regret their son coming into the world, but Talia
belonged with someone her own age. She deserved that.
The other half of his mind raged back. If she wanted to be with someone
her own age, she would be.
Not to mention, men her own age could be arseholes like Quinn. Jensen
had the experience needed to give her the life she deserved.
The next time Talia paused the TV to get up for a drink, he took
advantage. “Would you ever want to go back to university?”
She blinked, rummaging through a drawer. “I don’t know. Why?”
“When we met, you were willing to go to… extreme lengths to pay for
your degree. And I’ve seen all the medical textbooks on your bookshelf. It
seems like something you were committed to.”
Blushing somewhat, Talia sat back down, throwing the blanket over their
legs once again. “It was. At the time it was the most important thing in the
world, but now…”
Jensen could guess. “You have Felix.”
She let her head fall back to rest on his arm. “Exactly. I wasn’t enjoying
my time at university regardless.”
“You didn’t enjoy medicine?”
There was a pause before she spoke, letting out a long breath. “Not as
much as I thought. For the longest time I dreamt of studying medicine at
Columbia because it was what my mum did. She died when I was little, and
it was almost my way of being closer to her, if that makes sense.”
He nodded, letting one of her fiery red curls run through his fingers. “It
does.”
 “I wanted to make her proud, and Dad too. I wanted to live up to all these
expectations I created for myself. But when I got there… ” Talia exhaled,
winding their fingers together. “Expectations weren’t enough.”
Jensen squeezed her hand.
“Pregnancy freed me of that, in a way. Suddenly there was a ready-made
excuse to come home.”
“So you wouldn’t go back to education?”
After a pause, her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “The drive is still there. The
need to learn. The urge to help people. I want to make my mark on the
world, to make Felix proud. As much as I’ve loved being here with Felix, I
still want to have a career.”
“Do you have any idea of what that career might be?” Jensen asked,
thinking of those shelves packed full of books in her bedroom. From what
he saw last night, she had a wide range of titles.
“As strange as it sounds, I actually really enjoyed my pregnancy. From
both an educational standpoint and a personal one. I basically dove head-
first into the obstetrics literature. Every facet of the process was just
incredible to me, from fertilisation to…” Talia stilled, cheeks tinged pink in
the low light. “To, er, birth. It was something I’d never been exposed to
before. If I was to study anything, I think it would be something pregnancy-
related.”
“What about midwifery?” Jensen offered. “My aunt—Alison—was a
midwife for something like thirty years.”
“I didn’t know that!”
They were coming dangerously close to the subject neither of them had
mentioned since the wedding—Euan. “Once she’s back from her
honeymoon, she’d be a good person to talk to about it.”
Hopefully the next time he and Euan came face-to-face, Jensen wouldn’t
come out of it with another black eye.
“I will do,” Talia nodded, wearing a hopeful smile that made his heart
clench. “Want to watch the rest?”
“Sure.”
She quickly resumed the show, but leant across to scoop a little blister
pack of tablets off the coffee table next to her.
Jensen frowned. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah, my shoulders have just been hurting all day.” The colours from
the TV flashed over her face as she popped a tablet out of the packet,
quickly followed by a second. “I think I must have slept funny.”
Or been slammed into a brick wall outside a nightclub, he thought
murderously.
“Come here,” he murmured. “I’ll massage your shoulders while we watch
the show.”
He threw out the offer with every expectation that Talia would turn him
down, but he was pleasantly surprised when she gave him an endearing
smile. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Jensen patted the sofa, beckoning her closer.
She shifted across to settle in front of him, her breath hiking when he
gently pulled her curls over one shoulder.
“Tell me where it hurts.” His voice sounded rougher already.
Talia let out a hum of pleasure as his hands began to massage her
shoulders, followed by a breathy, cock-hardening gasp. “Oh, there.”
In hindsight, maybe this was a bad idea. Jensen had wanted to do
something nice for her, to care for her in any way he could, but those
intoxicating noises had him surreptitiously shifting in his seat.
Talia didn’t seem to be sharing his doubts. She leant back against him,
allowing her head to fall to the side. Her movement exposed the soft curve
of her neck, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to press his lips
against it.
He ran his thumbs against her muscles, meticulously smoothing away the
knots until she was melting before him. “In future, I want you to tell me if
you’re hurting. Don’t suffer in silence like you did today.”
Her reply was nothing but a hummed noise of acknowledgement.
Jensen continued massaging, half wanting to make her feel good…
And half wanting to hear more of those noises.
God, he’d missed hearing her blissful sighs. Every little murmur took him
back to that night in New York, touching her, feeling her move against him,
giving her so much pleasure her legs shook.
Except now he knew just how young she was. Talia was nineteen, and his
best friend’s daughter. How could any man with a conscience continue to
lust after a woman knowing that?
Jensen was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed what was
happening on the TV show.
As Talia hummed and sighed beneath his touch, the couple on screen
were removing each other’s clothing.
 Closing his eyes, he grimaced. His cock was hard enough already.
Between the dark, sensual lighting and Talia’s low moans, hadn’t he
suffered enough? Apparently not.
For the first time, Talia shifted in her seat. She edged closer to him, until
she was mere inches away.
Jensen couldn’t stop watching her, his touch never leaving her shoulders.
“Can I lay against you?” she asked, her words slight and shy.
“Of course.”
Talia shifted again—except she clearly hadn’t realised how close the two
of them were.
She moved not against his side, as he’d expected, but fully into his lap,
her rear lodging up against his painfully hard length before he could cover
it. Another gasp left her; one of shock rather than pleasure.
He winced. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was some
kind of pervert. “Fuck, Talia I—”
“Can you go lower?”
It took him a moment to digest what she’d said. “You mean massage
lower?”
“Mhmm.”
Jensen did what she asked. Were they just not going to talk about the fact
that his cock was as hot as a brand against her arse?
Talia let out another hum of pleasure. She lay against him, her back to his
front, the exposed curve of her neck still tempting him. “You didn’t do
that.”
“Do what?” His eyes widened, realising that he could see down the front
of her shirt from this angle.
Don’t be a perve. Don’t be a perve. Don’t be a perve.
Talia seemed to be unaware of the internal battle he was fighting. She
nodded towards the TV. “You did more than just kiss me before we had
sex.”
His cock jerked against her, straining against the fly of his trousers. He let
his head fall forward, until his forehead came to rest in her hair. “I’m
hanging by a thread here, Talia,” he breathed, his shoulders heaving.
She turned in his lap, sliding against his length until they were face-to-
face. “Then let go.”
Teeth gritted so hard he thought they might shatter, Jensen shook his
head.
 She gave him a searching look, but Jensen thought there may have been a
touch of vulnerability in it. “Is it… is it because I haven’t lost my baby
weight?”
“What? No!” The denial burst from him before he could stop it. He took
her face in his hands, his gentle touch smoothing away her doubt. Was that
what she thought of him? “Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me
to keep my hands off you? You’re perfect, Talia. I’m more attracted to you
now than ever, but it doesn’t change this chasm between us. If I were
twenty years younger…”
Shoulders shaking with exertion, Jensen trailed off.
Beneath her heavy lidded gaze, Talia’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
“Tell me. If you were twenty years younger, what would you do to me?”
The game was so fucking dangerous, but Jensen couldn’t stop himself
from playing.
Their breath mingled in the small space between them, tension humming
in the air. “I’d devour every inch of you.”
A moan left her, and she slid her hand down his chest, coming perilously
close to his throbbing length. “Then do it.” She shot a mischievous, almost
challenging glare at him. “The memories I have of our night together are
getting fuzzy, and I want some new ones to think about when I’m touching
myself.”
Eighteen months of pent up lust coursed through him, charging the air
around him with so much electricity he was surprised it didn’t crackle.
Before he could move a muscle, a small, raspy cry came from Felix’s
room.
Talia scooted off the sofa, and Jensen followed. He hung back at Felix’s
door, relieved when his erection softened. Jesus. He had been a moment
away from throwing his decency out of the window.
“You okay, cyw?” Talia murmured. She was little more than a hazy
outline in the darkness, bent over Felix’s cot.
Jensen approached, joining her at their son’s bedside. “Did you have a
bad dream, wee man?”
Felix slurred a response, already falling back to sleep. Jensen grinned; if
only it had been this easy to get him to sleep earlier.
“Come on,” Talia pulled his arm, her voice a whisper in the dark.
Back out in the living room, Jensen glanced at the clock in the kitchen; it
was almost midnight. “I hadn’t noticed how late it was,” he admitted.
 “Will you stay?” she asked, her eyes bright with innocence. “I could
really use a hand with him overnight.”
He nodded, knowing full well she was doing her best to break his
resistance. “But I’ll sleep on the sofa again.”
Talia leant against the wall, swirling a lock of her hair around her finger.
“Then I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Can you turn off everything out
here when you’re ready?”
Blinking at the abrupt end to their night, he nodded. “Sure. See you in the
morning.”
It didn’t take him long to get ready for bed. He’d grabbed the overnight
bag he kept in the car when he nipped to the shops a few hours earlier. It
always had a weekend’s worth of clean clothes and toiletries ready to go,
and it had come in handy on several last-minute business trips.
He never thought he’d end up using it a mile from home, but there was a
first time for everything.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jensen glanced at Talia’s bedroom door.
Nope. He wasn’t even going to think of Talia’s first time.
When he settled down for the night under the blankets, his unfulfilled
erection from earlier returned.
He could almost hear Roman’s sarcastic remark now. Erection 2: Electric
Boogaloo.
Jensen groaned, pulling his forearms over his eyes. Why did he agree to
stay?
But, staring up at the darkened ceiling, he knew exactly why. Talia.
A soft noise made him glance around. Was that coming from Felix’s
room? He threw the blanket back with every intention of getting up to
check if his little boy was okay, but the next noise rooted him in place.
Buzzing—swiftly followed by a gentle moan.
Please tell me she’s not doing what I think she’s doing.
His eyes closed at the next gasp. She was trying to kill him. She was
actually trying to kill him.
In the darkness, he glanced over towards her bedroom door, eyes
widening at the sliver of light at its edge. No wonder he could hear so much
—she’d left it open for him.
A tiny red light flashed in the corner, presumably from one of the many
security cameras Tarik had installed around the flat. The security cameras
that he had access to on his phone… including in Talia’s bedroom.
 Sitting up, Jensen leant his elbows on his knees, dropping his forehead
into his hands. The longer it went on, the weaker his resolve became.
He could open up his phone right now and see every inch of what she was
doing. The memories of New York were so far away, and his baser instincts
roared at him to do something. Watch her on his phone. Join her in her
bedroom, as she so clearly wanted him to. Anything but sit here on this
fucking couch, nursing a raging erection.
“Fuck,” he grunted. Talia’s moans seemed to be coming quicker now.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He couldn’t invade her privacy, and he couldn’t give in to his lust.
When her gasps stopped, he breathed a sigh of relief. She must have
finished.
Light suddenly spilled across the floor, and Jensen looked up to see Talia
standing there in a silky dressing gown, her cheeks flushed.
“Talia—”
She spoke over him, her strong, certain glare freezing him in place. “I am
a grown woman,” she snarled, untying the dressing gown’s sash and pulling
it apart to reveal she was naked beneath. It slipped off her shoulders, and
she let it fall to the floor. “And I know what I want.”
Jensen’s restraint snapped.

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 20

Talia

F inally.
Talia had used every ounce of her feminine wiles on this man. And
her feminine wiles were scarcely more than tartish ruses.
She gasped as Jensen effortlessly lifted her into his arms, shutting the
door and carrying her towards the bed. Wrapping her legs around his hips,
she savoured the ravenous feel of his hands on her skin.
Her back hit the bedsheets, and she barely registered their softness before
Jensen loomed over her. His mouth crashed into hers in a wave of groans
and nips, and Talia couldn’t get enough. She needed him more than she
needed the air she breathed. Her nails dug into his skin, latching on with all
their strength.
Jensen pulled his shirt over his head, their kiss only pausing long enough
for him to fling it across the room. And then his lips were on hers once
more, their bodies a tangle of need and lust
Talia moaned into their embrace—in pleasure and in relief. Her hands
travelled into his hair, over his chest, down his spine, over his forearms, and
everything in between. It had been so long. She’d yearned for him for so
long she almost couldn’t believe he was finally here, returning her touch
with one far more savage.
“You,” he growled, in a voice that sent shivers down her spine, “are a
vixen.”
 “Only for you.”
His eyelids lowered, as though that thought pleased him. He hummed out
a long, low noise of satisfaction. “Only for me,” he agreed, sitting back on
his haunches to take her in, his intense gaze darting over her body.
Even after waiting for him for months, Talia shifted uncomfortably
beneath his gaze. She lay spread for him, her thighs resting over his. She
was on show, with nothing to hide behind.
Her breasts were fuller than they had been the last time she and Jensen
had been together, but they sagged a little lower than last time too. The
stretchmarks on her stomach were also a new addition, as was the stubborn
baby weight on her hips.
Despite it all, Jensen’s touch was reverential. Her self-consciousness
ebbed away at his response to her body—his rasping exhales, his eager
gaze. “Do you know how my need for you has consumed me since New
York?”
Talia shook her head, eager to hear more.
“I wanted to come to you so many times. Even then, I knew what this was
between us was something more.”
There was that relief again. The knowledge that she hadn’t been alone in
her pining. Her voice was a small, strangled thing. “Jay.”
His smile was visible for a brief moment before he bent down once more,
taking her lips in a desperate kiss. “I’ve craved you for so long, Talia.”
“Then take m—”
Jensen cut her off in a kiss that tasted of fiery desire. His body was a wall
of firm muscle above her, his strength shifting as his lips travelled down her
neck. The roll of his hips against hers was an ever-present tease against her
needy clit, and Talia arched her hips to take maximum advantage.
But he took advantage too, his lips closing around her aching nipple.
Talia gasped, sliding her hand to the back of his head to hold him in place—
only for him to pull away almost instantly.
She realised why a second later, when she saw the drops of breast milk on
his lips. He touched his hand to his mouth, as though he didn’t immediately
clock what it was.
Their eyes connected, and he slowly lowered back down, licking away
the beads of milk dotting her nipple before taking it in his mouth once
more, her gasps of pleasure filling the room.
 Jensen groaned as he swallowed, delicate vibrations travelling around her
nipple.
She’d never expected this. To have his weight bearing down on her, his
cock throbbing against her, and his lips at her breast, swallowing her milk.
“More,” she pleaded. Before this moment, she wouldn’t have imagined this
in her wildest dreams, but somehow with Jensen… it felt right. Everything
did.
His breathing was heavy as he switched to her other breast, leaving the
first knotted into a tight, sensitive bud. The more he sucked, the more needy
she grew. She writhed beneath him, locking her legs around his hips and
pulling him closer, desperate for that final bit of stimulation.
Jensen took pity on her, because then his touch was there too. He pushed
her thighs wide, circling her clit until she was so sensitive she almost
couldn’t stand it. It was somehow too much and far too little, keeping her
on the edge of sanity.
Talia let out a strained moan, her legs beginning to shake. Oh god. The
pressure was building around her, “I’m going to come,” she whimpered,
almost fearful of its devastation.
But Jensen had no such qualms. His eyes darkened as he gave a
victorious moan around her nipple—and that was all it took for her to
break.
The last lucid thought she had was to clap her hand over her mouth, and
thank fuck she did.
Talia shattered beneath him, her climax seizing control of her body. Her
spine arched up, frozen for so long she thought it might never end. Leg
muscles locked tightly around Jensen’s hips, she fisted his hair with her free
hand as he lapped hungrily at her breast.
By the time it was over, her muscles had been taut for so long they were
stiff. Jensen seemed to know it too, rising from her breast to cup her cheek
and take her lips in a blissful embrace. She moaned into his kiss, tasting the
sweetness of her breast milk on his tongue.
“I need you,” he whispered. “I need you more than anything, more than
everything.” His forehead fell against hers. “But I don’t have a condom.”
She shook her head. “I’m on the contraceptive implant.” She tapped the
inside of her right arm. “That’s what this scar is.”
Jensen brushed a finger over it, frowning. “I don’t like this.”
“What do you mean? It’s something like nine—”
 Breaking off her sentence with a kiss, he shook his head. “I don’t like that
you scarred yourself. Contraception should be my responsibility, baby girl,
not yours.”
How could this man be so sweet one minute and then be drinking her
breast milk whilst she orgasmed the next? “After everything… I wanted to
be sure.”
His brows drew together momentarily. “Are you sure though? Even with
the implant, there are still risks.”
“I’m sure,” she assured him. “And I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone
else.”
A forceful exhale left him; a sigh of relief. “Neither have I.”
Hearing it confirmed lightened a weight off her shoulders she didn’t
know she’d been carrying. She probed deeper, needing to hear him say the
words. “Was that by choice?”
“Yes,” Jensen nodded, his hands moving down his body to undo his
trousers. “Because I knew no one could compare.”
Another sigh left her. “Jay,” she whispered, watching him free his cock. It
bounced upwards, flushed a dark reddish purple. Drops freely wept from
the tip, landing on her skin.
He stroked it leisurely—almost tauntingly. “Do you remember how my
cock tastes?”
Talia nodded, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. “I remember
everything.” She ran a hand over his chest, soaking up how he felt. “How
you look. How you taste. How you feel when you’re inside me.”
A smirk came to his face, and he ran the head of his cock down through
her sensitive folds, before bringing it back up. It came out glistening with
her arousal, but Jensen only did it again.
Talia closed her eyes, exhaling when he lingered over her clit, teasing her
until her body was humming with need. “I want you inside me.”
A shudder passed over his shoulders, and his eyelids lowered. “Say it
again.”
“I want you inside me, Jay. I need you inside me.”
There was his cock again, sliding downwards to notch at her entrance.
Jensen was in no rush, it seemed. She gasped as his length stretched her,
lost in ecstasy. Had anything ever felt as good as that first stretch? “Yes,”
she moaned, clutching whatever parts of him she could get her hands on.
Jensen grunted out a curse, his breath coming in pants. “You’re so tight.”
 “Give me everything. Please.”
“Not yet,” he responded, his cruel grin tormenting her. “I want to savour
your reaction to every inch of me. I want to remember your expression as
you stretch tight around my cock.”
She closed her eyes. “Oh god.”
“My name.” He gripped her chin, turning her head back to focus on him.
“My name should be the only one on your lips when I’m so deep inside
you.”
Talia gave him what he wanted, her words little more than whimpers.
How had she taken all of him inside her in New York? “Jay.”
“There’s a good girl,” he purred, letting out a groan as his hips finally met
hers. He took her lips, muffling her sobs of pleasure. “I’ll never forget the
way you look like this. The flush on your cheeks, the scarlet in your hair,
the bliss in your eyes. You’re mine, Talia. And you were always meant to
be.”
She nodded, wiggling her hips to lure him into moving. Her need began
to build the longer he stayed still, a niggling sensation that grew with every
second that passed. “I’m yours, Jay. Always.”
Giving them both what they wanted, Jensen moved, pulling his hips out
only to seat himself deep inside her once more.
Talia gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head. The feeling was even
better than she remembered, a rapturous, pulsating symphony of desire.
With each powerful thrust, it became harder and harder to hold in her
moans—and as he picked up speed, it was almost impossible.
Above her, Jensen seemed to be having similar troubles. She loved him
like this; wild and out of control, grunting with exertion and need. And
somehow she was the woman who got to reap the rewards.
Heat swelled within her, growing with each roll of his hips. Her eyes
wide with alarm, Talia shook her head. “I can’t come again,” she pleaded,
her legs beginning to shake. It was too much, too sensitive, too
overwhelming, too intense, too everything.
He nuzzled her hair, his hips slamming into her. “You can.”
The onslaught of pleasure twisted her voice. It was almost here, and there
was nothing she could do to stop it. “Jay.”
“Come with me,” he whispered into her ear, sending shivers down her
spine.
 In the millisecond before the intensity detonated, Jensen seized her mouth
in a possessive, dominating kiss.
Talia cried out against his lips, lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over
her. Her legs shook around his hips, but Jensen’s thrusts reached their peak.
He groaned into their embrace, squeezing her with all his strength as he
came.
In the midst of her earth-shattering climax, she managed to open her eyes
just enough to allow her to watch him, committing him to memory like this.
How he moved inside her. How his arms felt around her. How he sounded
as he came. How his expression contorted into bliss. How his warm, spicy
scent enveloped her.
How she was safe from the outside world. How she knew she could
depend on him. How she trusted him to be a father to their son.
How he pulled her into his arms after making love to her, and it felt like
she was floating on air.
Nestling against his scarred chest, Talia clutched him tight—but
somehow it was never tight enough.
Letting out a sigh, she glanced up at him. “I need you,” she admitted.
“You have me,” he told her, cupping her cheek with easy affection.
“Always.”
Talia smiled, her happiness carrying her into a blissful sleep.

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 21

Jensen

W henHe’d
Jensen heard the shower running, he followed.
been intending to let her sleep after their love-making. If he
gave in to his instincts, he’d have kept her up all night, slowly wringing
every last ounce of pleasure from her body.
Instead, though, he let her sleep; she’d had so little of it lately.
It hadn’t been a chore—finally having her sleeping in his arms, their
bodies intertwined.
Jensen hadn’t expected her to get up anyway, not least whilst he was
asleep. And if she was up anyway…
Silently, he crept into the bathroom. A wall of steam greeted him, but
through it all he could see Talia’s naked body clearly outlined against the
black slate tiled across the walls. She faced away from him, rinsing her hair
until it cascaded down her back in a sleek red ribbon.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been in Talia’s bathroom, but it was the first
time he realised the unusual advantages it offered.
It was a wet room, meaning there was no shower cubicle getting in the
way of his approach.
Instead, there was nothing between them but steam.
His cock hardened at the sight of the water streaming over her body,
carving out little rivulets in her skin. Jensen reached out, slipping his hand
around her waist and pulling her back against him.
 Talia surprised him, letting out a pleasant hum instead of the surprised
jump he’d been expecting. He nuzzled the side of her neck, smiling against
her skin when she reached her arm upwards to cup the back of his head.
“Did you think you were being sneaky?” she asked, sighing as his hands
explored.
“Maybe.” He wrapped his hand around her throat, holding her steady as
he nipped at the sensitive spot on her neck. “Maybe I needed you too badly
to wait.”
“You’ve only just had me.”
Jensen bit her once more—this time hard enough to leave a mark. “And I
need to have you again. But first…” He eyed the long, low bench beside the
shower.
His eyes darkening, he yanked one of the thick, fluffy towels off the
hooks next to the shower and led Talia over to the bench.
“What are you—oop!”
Jensen lay her on the bench, manhandling her into place. “Get on your
back, baby girl. I’ve waited far too fuckin’ long to taste you.”
She obeyed, parting her legs.
Growling, Jensen kissed his way from her neck to her breasts,
purposefully avoiding her peaked nipples.
Talia shifted, tempting him into more. “Please.”
He teased one with a flick of his tongue. “You liked me sucking your
nipples before, didn’t you? Tasting you?”
She nodded, her cheeks flushed.
Jensen had liked it too. He would have never set out to drink her breast
milk, but doing it until she climaxed?
Fuck. He had to do it again.
He took one of her nipples in his mouth, groaning with satisfaction. That
sweet, addictive taste was on his tongue, and Jensen lapped up every drop.
She gasped from above him, fisting his hair. “Oh, more.”
Instead, Jensen shook his head, pulling away. “Play with your nipples for
me.”
As much as he wanted to stay… he had another destination in mind.
Kneeling, he landed on a plush mat and began to dot her legs with kisses,
slowly working his way to her inner thighs. Talia writhed, luring him to the
nectar between her thighs.
 “Have you ever had anyone lick your cunt before?” he asked between
kisses.
She shook her head, gasping with need. “You know I was a virgin.”
He wanted to argue back with technicalities, but he had other uses in
mind for his tongue. Pushing her legs wider apart, Jensen dragged his nose
between her wet pussy, inhaling deeply. The scent of her arousal tapped into
some primal part of his brain that had him wanting to claim her as his all
over again.
She’d already had his son. Why did the thought of Talia’s body swelling
with pregnancy make him even harder? God, he wished he’d been there.
Finally giving her what she wanted, Jensen lay the flat of his tongue
against her wet, needy flesh, cleaving it in one long, savouring lick. He
lingered at her clit, circling the hood with his tongue.
“Jay,” she whimpered, clapping a hand over her mouth.
His smug grin half-hidden in her cunt, Jensen lapped at her entrance,
groaning as he swallowed her taste. How had he not done this in New York?
If he had, there would have been no keeping him away afterwards.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he murmured, laving open-mouthed kisses
against her clit, before closing his lips around it and sucking.
Talia released a strangled noise, her hips coming off the bench.
With another grin, Jensen wrapped an arm around her hips to keep her in
place and did it again, rhythmically sucking until her muffled cries were
echoing across the bathroom and her thighs were crushing his skull. Even
then, he didn’t let up, slipping his free hand upwards and slowly inserting a
finger inside her.
Her hand still over her mouth, Talia’s words were stifled, but her body
did the talking for her. Hips rolling into his touch, Jensen inserted a second,
curling them inside her until he found the spot that would make her see
stars.
It didn’t take long then. Within a few seconds, he had her on the edge of
her release. Her free hand was buried in his hair, tugging like her life
depended on it. He couldn’t have cared less, playing her body like it had
been made for him.
“Oh, oh, oh!”
Jensen moaned into her skin as she came, clenching his fingers tighter
than a fist. Her legs shook around him, and he glanced up to see her brow
contorted with pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head.
 Even when her muscles slackened, he couldn’t pull himself away from
her cunt, lapping up the taste of her orgasm as it dripped from her—until
she softly touched his cheek. Jensen followed, crawling up her body.
“You’re magnificent.”
Talia smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “So are you.”
Resting his forehead against hers, he couldn’t help but ask, “Can you take
me again?”
“Always.”
Jensen pulled her to her feet, standing her in front of the marble vanity.
“Look in the mirror,” he told her, sliding his hand round her neck whilst
nipping at the curve of her shoulder with his teeth. “I want you to tilt your
hips back… and watch.”
True to form, she obeyed, gasping when he aligned his cock with her
entrance.
“You ready?”
Talia made a desperate little noise, pushing backwards against him as
though she couldn’t wait for his cock.
He gave it to her.
Jensen thrust home, sheathing himself in her warm, wet pussy. He snarled
with pleasure, just as he felt a moan make its way out of her throat. Her
body shook as he plunged inside of her again and again. Each stroke was
better than the last. Maybe she had been made for him, because no other
woman could compare to Talia. Her cunt swallowed him eagerly, taking
everything he had to give.
With his cock driving into her at one end, Jensen steadied her at the other
with his hand around her throat.
He held her eyes in the mirror, eagerly watching her every reaction. Her
mouth hung open with pleasure, letting out gasps and moans with every
thrust.
Rutting behind her, Jensen looked like a savage beast. His jaw was
clenched tight, his sapphire eyes bright with arousal, his broad shoulders
engulfing hers. His hand positively dwarfed her throat, the veins and
muscles on his tanned arm standing out in sharp contrast to her pale skin.
It was perfect. She was perfect.
Before long, he could feel Talia’s pussy clench around him again. It came
in little spasms at first, and Jensen rolled his hips to elicit more. The need to
make her come again was a fire in his veins, watching her every reaction to
measure his own success.
He knew the instant he pushed her over the edge once more. Her cunt
wrung his cock like a vice, and if that didn’t pull his own release from him
then her reaction would have. Talia’s eyes didn’t close—instead, she held
his gaze hostage throughout, eyelids fluttering, giving him every second of
her climax.
Balls drawn up tight, Jensen exploded into her, crushing her beneath his
grip as his hips slammed against hers. He gave her everything he had, her
sensational cunt squeezing every last drop of his release from him.
Breathing heavily, Jensen buried his face in her shoulder. She’d ruined
him for all other women, and thank fuck she had. “You’re perfect,” he
murmured, finally letting his eyes close. “Every part of you is perfect.”

Every time Talia looked in his direction, she blushed. And Jensen loved it.
That pink ridge on her cheeks was sure to become his new favourite
colour. He started to wonder what else would send her into a blushing fit.
He also wondered what her reaction would be when his gift eventually
arrived; fingers crossed it wasn’t just to throw it at his head.
The morning passed in a sea of domestic bliss; Jensen cooking breakfast
whilst Talia fed Felix, Felix throwing baby food all over him, putting Felix
down for a nap…
And being able to pull Talia into his arms whenever he wanted.
“You’re very affectionate today,” she murmured, as he slid his hands
around her waist from behind and nuzzled into her neck.
“Do you not want me to be?” He could hear his phone buzzing from
somewhere in her bedroom, but he ignored it. Jensen had no interest in his
business pursuits today; he was in the mood for something more appetising.
There was no going back now they’d crossed that line, so why not free
his desires?
Talia turned, abandoning the sweet potatoes she’d been peeling and
hooking her hands around his neck. There was that pink blush he loved. “I
didn’t say that. It’s just quite a change. You barely touched me a few days
ago, and now…”
“And now I’ve touched you all over,” he smirked, doing his best to
ignore the guilty tinge that suffused his chest. The age gap between them
was so vast he could fit another one of Talia’s lifespans in it. Jensen didn’t
think he’d ever become totally comfortable with it.
His old arguments came to the fore then. They were in different life
stages. He was an older man taking advantage of her. A convicted murderer
who still hadn’t told her he was a convicted fucking murderer. How could
he not see how wrong that was?
But he’d never targeted Talia because of her age or her innocence. He
didn’t want to manipulate or control her; he wanted to love her, to protect
her, to give her the life she deserved.
His heart missed a beat.
Love.
Had that word really just sailed through his thoughts so easily?
“So you have,” she gave him a shy glance, ignorant of the detour his
mind had taken. “It’s still strange having a shirtless man wandering around
my flat.”
Sometimes it was easy to forget how young she was, or how
inexperienced. She’d never encountered this before. The easy intimacy that
existed between lovers. The secret glances. The knowing looks.
Accepting that someone else held your heart in their hands, and trusting
them not to break it.
“We missed out on this stage last time, didn’t we?” Jensen moved his
hand to sprawl it across her stomach; he’d said it before, but he would say it
again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry I missed the pregnancy.” A sad
smile came to his face. “Watching your stomach grow with our son.”
Talia nodded, swallowing. “Me too.”
Anger flared within him at the thought of Quinn getting to see it, but not
him. He yearned to go back in time, to fix what had happened. “You have
no idea how much I wish things had been different.”
Talia cupped his cheek. “You’ll be here for everything else. Felix’s first
birthday is only a couple of months away now.”
He was definitely going to be there for that. “Are you throwing him a part
—?”
A knock on the door cut him off.
 Talia pulled away. “It’s probably Mia. Give me a sec.”
Jensen took a second to remember Mia; she was Talia’s tenant. And
friend, judging by the few times she’d mentioned her. Turning, he picked up
the potato peeler to carry on preparing the food for one of Felix’s batch-
cooked meals.
Behind him, the door opened.
“Dad,” Talia’s shocked voice came. “What are you doing here? You’re
supposed to be on your honeymoon.”
Jensen whipped around, suddenly acutely aware that he was still shirtless
after the food fiasco.
A tanned Euan stalked towards him, his furious gaze burning through the
air. “What part of stay away from my family didn’t you fucking
understand?”

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 22

Talia

S hit.“Dad, wait!” Talia dove forward, clasping her hand around his slightly
sunburnt arm and wrenching him back. He didn’t even pause, so she dug
her heels in, doing her best impersonation of an anchor.
It worked. Dad paused, giving her a patient look despite his anger. “He
needs to leave.”
“He needs to stay,” she fought back.
Surprise flared on Dad’s face.
I guess the last time he saw me I was in floods of tears about Jensen’s
actions.
Well, what she thought were Jensen’s actions.
“You don’t know the whole story,” she explained.
“Which I guess he cooked up the moment I left the country. He’s taking
advantage of you—”
Her head tilted, reflecting her father’s rage back at him. Jensen began to
say something, but she held up a hand to silence him. “Do you really think
I’d let him around my son without good reason? Do you really think I’m
that shit of a mother?”
“Nattie,” Dad began, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “You’re a fantastic
mother, but think of what he did. He’s not trustworthy. He left you to raise
Felix alone.”
 Talia shook her head. “He didn’t.” Her voice broke. There had been so
many times she’d been driven to tears by Jensen’s supposed abandonment.
Even now, the relief was bone deep, but her grief remained. “I thought he
did, but he didn’t. He left me a letter. He wanted to see me again. He didn’t
abandon me.”
Dad thumbed her tears away. “I don’t want to be cruel, but where’s his
proof?”
“Jensen didn’t tell me that. Quinn did. He’s the one who hid the letter.”
“Wait, what?”
“Quinn came in whilst I was sleeping and took it.”
Frowning, Dad glanced between her and Jensen. “Why would he do
that?”
“Because he’s a manipulative little bastard who shouldn’t be trusted with
your daughter,” Jensen snarled, stepping into the fray. “He’s the one who
left Talia alone in pregnancy, not me. And do you know what he tried to do
the other night? He got her drunk and tried to fucking assault her. You’re so
concerned with me being untrustworthy you missed the giant red flag right
under your nose.”
Eyes blown wide, Dad sucked in a breath. “Is that true, cyw?”
Talia nodded grimly, sliding her phone out of her pocket. She pulled up
the same sped-up recording she’d shown to Mia—the one of Jensen caring
for her whilst she was asleep. “And this is what Jensen did when presented
with the same… opportunity.”
A little frown came over Dad’s face as he watched. He shot Jensen a brief
glance before giving Talia her phone back. “Are you all right? Did Quinn
hurt you?”
“I’m okay,” she nodded, finding it was the truth. If she remembered what
happened, then perhaps her answer would be different. But she didn’t, so it
wasn’t. “Thanks to Jensen.”
Dad nodded, letting out a resigned huff. “I’m not saying I approve,
because I don’t. But thank you for looking after her.” He gestured to
Jensen’s chest. “Can you at least put a shirt on?”
“I would, but my shirt’s in there.” Jensen tapped the washing machine
under the kitchen counter, the clothes in it nothing but a blur of motion.
“Felix chucked a load of sweet potato puree on me.”
A hint of humour turned up the edge of Dad’s lip. “Did he?” He glanced
at Felix’s closed bedroom door. “Is he down for a nap at the moment?”
 Before Talia could answer, the flat’s buzzer sounded. Someone was down
at the front door. Pressing the button, she leant closer to allow it to pick up
her voice. “Hello?”
“Hey, sweetie. It’s Alison. Is your dad there by any chance?”
“He is, actually. Come up.” Talia let go of the button, turning round to
face him. “Come to think of it, how did you even get in the building?”
“Mia was coming out of the front doors when I arrived,” Dad replied
guiltily. “She let me in.”
Ah. That would explain it.
It wasn’t long before Alison’s knock arrived, but when Talia opened the
door Alison wasn’t alone; there was another man with her, one who looked
vaguely familiar. “Hey,” Talia said, frantically trying to remember the man’s
name. “Come in.”
Alison quickly took pity on her, her new tan flashing as she pecked Talia
on the cheek. “How are you, sweetheart? This is my younger son, Aldous. I
think you might have met him at the wedding.”
Talia nodded. “I did.” Briefly.
“And is everything… okay in here?” Alison asked, her voice suspiciously
high. She smiled at Jensen standing in the kitchen, his arms crossed over his
scarred chest, before giving Dad a knowing glance. “Everything’s a lot
calmer than we were expecting.”
“What were you expecting?” Jensen asked.
Aldous shrugged, standing next to his cousin. “I thought you might need
help, so I came. If you picked up your bloody phone you would have had a
warning Euan was on his way round.”
Quirking his lip, Jensen gave him a heartfelt smile. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I disappeared, cariad,” Dad exhaled roughly, squeezing
Alison’s hand. “I had a text from Quinn.”
Jensen perked up. “Saying what?”
“That you were taking advantage of my daughter.”
Jensen choked out something resembling a laugh. “And you believed
him. I’ve known you for years, Euan. When have I ever given you the
impression I’d take advantage of a young woman?”
Dad pointed at Felix’s bedroom door. “I think we’re a long way past
impressions. There’s physical evidence of your ability to make questionable
decisions.”
 A fire blazed in Jensen’s eyes as he stormed towards Dad. “My son was
never a questionable decision.”
A babble came from Felix’s bedroom, turning Talia’s head. “Speak of the
devil,” she muttered, opening her son’s bedroom door. For once, Felix
wasn’t laying on the mattress—he was standing on it, his pudgy little hands
firmly affixed to the cot’s side. “What are you doing standing up, cyw?” she
laughed, lifting him onto her hip.
Felix nuzzled into her, looking around as she carried him into the living
room, clearly surprised to see it full of people.
“Hello Felix!” Dad grinned, his eyes lighting up.
“Do you want to say hello to Bampi?” she asked him, leaning him in
Dad’s direction.
But Felix only gave Dad a small wave before holding out a hand towards
Jensen, letting out a little squeal.
A wide smile split Jensen’s face. He needed no encouragement, scooping
Felix into his arms and tightly clutching him in a hug. “You want to come to
Dadda, Felix?”
Felix’s hand went up, and for a moment Talia was sure he was going to
smack Jensen right across the face, but instead he settled for a gentle pat
and a happy giggle.
Well, at least he’s getting out of his hitting habit.
Dad, on the other hand, merely stared at the father and son duo. “So what,
you’re going to waltz in and start being a dad?”
Jensen nodded, letting Felix crawl all over him. “Would you do anything
less?”
After a few seconds of tense silence, Dad answered, “No. No, I would
not.”
“He’s my son, Euan. I plan to be in his life.” Jensen’s gaze met hers,
something soft and gentle lying just behind his eyes. “My family’s life.”
Talia expected her father to fight back, but he gave in. Perhaps it was the
ordeal with Quinn, or the fact that even now Felix was happily curled
around Jensen, reaching his hand out to Aldous next to him.
For some reason, Aldous hesitated, his hand stalling in mid-air. A moment
later, though, he let Felix grip his finger, giving him a brief smile.
“That’s your Uncle Aldous, Felix,” Jensen told him, shooting a quietly
hopeful glance at Alison.
“The better looking one,” Aldous assured Felix, stroking his tiny hand.
OceanofPDF.com
 23

Jensen

B ygroup
the beginning of May, Jensen thought he may have visited every baby
in London. Baby swimming, baby yoga, baby massage, baby
gym, baby reading, baby music, even baby signing classes—the latter on
Warren’s recommendation. Just as one group finished, another sprung up,
and Jensen happily trotted along for the ride.
Talia had even trusted him to take Felix out alone for the first time ever.
Well, perhaps not entirely alone. Warren and Lucie had come too. Their
destination had, unsurprisingly, been another baby group. But this one was
specifically for dads. He’d learnt a lot from it too, and had been going every
week since.
This week, however, Warren hadn’t been able to attend, which meant that
Jensen took Felix all by himself. And, as he flicked his eyes up to the rear
view mirror, he thought he’d passed the test. Out of the corner of his eye, he
could see Felix’s little legs kicking as he played with a toy in his new car
seat.
The first few times Jensen had taken Felix out with Warren and Lucie,
he’d borrowed the car seat from Talia’s car, but last week he bought one for
his car specifically.
With every week that passed, he felt more and more like an actual parent.
He was now capable of doing everything Talia did—minus the lactating. He
found he enjoyed creating new meals for Felix to try far more than Talia,
and so she’d happily delegated the task to him. Most of the time, Jensen
cooked at her flat, but occasionally he made them at his own.
These days, he found he was visiting his flat less and less. More often
than not, he was at Talia’s, caring for Felix or simply spending time with the
people he loved.
As daunting as it had been to realise, Jensen had admitted to himself that
the twisting, wrenching, desperate feeling in his chest was love. He loved
her.
Which made it all the more irritating that it was now almost impossible to
find time alone together.
Jensen suspected Euan was responsible, ordering a horde of family
members to visit Talia at increasingly irritating times. Whether it was Darcy
coming to stay for a week, Great Aunt Angharad dropping in to say hello, or
even Euan himself surprising Jensen and Talia late one Friday night, there
was always somebody there.
It had got to the point where the only time Jensen and Talia were alone
was during the baby groups, surrounded by a gaggle of babies and parents.
Thank fuck there were so many of them.
He was beginning to live for those baby groups. Considering they usually
went in his car, Jensen had got into the habit of holding Talia’s thigh as he
drove. As Felix was in the car too, it never went further than a few kisses.
But, Christ, Jensen was getting desperate, and he knew Talia was too.
But as he neared her flat, his excitement increased. For the first time in
weeks, they had a chance. Euan and Alison were in Paris. Darcy was in
Ibiza. Great Aunt Angharad was back in Wales.
He and Talia might actually have some time alone tonight.
Felix babbled as Jensen turned off Charing Cross Road, taking the now-
familiar route home. He passed the service entrance of the mansion block,
remembering his and Roman’s illegal jaunt into the building.
Jensen looked in the rear view mirror again, smiling at Felix talking to
himself. Was that really only a few months ago? And now he was taking his
little boy out on father-and-son adventures. He sighed, letting that feeling of
happiness spread through his—
Was that Quinn?
Jensen’s head snapped to the side at the sight of the man walking on the
pavement back down towards Charing Cross Road. It had only been a split-
second glance, but he was sure that had been Quinn.
 Making a hurried U-turn, he drove back the way he came, on the look-out
for anyone who bore even the slightest resemblance to Quinn. The closer he
got to the main road, the thicker the throng of people became. Tourists,
schoolchildren, and everyone in between clogged the pavements, until he
had no choice but to accept defeat.
In the car park under the mansion block, Jensen decided to make a call.
“Hey Jenny,” Roman answered flirtatiously.
He got straight to the point. “Hello mate, I need a favour. Are you in the
country right now?”
“Can be if you have a job for me. What’s up?”
Jensen brought him up to date on everything that had happened with him
and Talia… and Quinn. “But I’m pretty sure I just saw Quinn hanging
around Talia’s flat.” The terse words were cut off by a high-pitched yell
from Felix.
“Wait, was that your baby?” Excitement hummed in Roman’s voice.
He blinked, making sure his eardrums hadn’t been perforated. “Yep,
that’s Felix.”
“Put me on video call, you monster. Lemme see him.”
Despite his mood, Jensen got out of the car with a grin. He slid onto the
backseat, his thigh nudging against Felix’s car seat. “Hey, wee man,” he
said to Felix, turning on the video.
A shirtless Roman waved at him, reclining in a poolside cabana. His
Dalmatian Jasmine was curled into his side, looking like the happiest dog
on earth. White fabric swayed in the wind behind him, and Jensen thought
he could just about see the ocean in the corner of the screen.
Felix smiled, showing off his front teeth as he eagerly took the phone
from Jensen.
“Hiiiii mini-Jen,” Roman’s greeting was a blaze of enthusiasm. “Aren’t
you just the spitting image of your daddy?”
For the next few minutes, Jensen waited as Roman fussed over his son
with reams of baby-talk, watching Felix with a look of contentment across
his face. Until—
“Is Uncle Roman going to kill the guy hanging around your house? Yes,
he is. Yes, he is.”
Jensen shot up as Felix giggled. “No,” he blurted, looking round to check
the windows were closed. “I never said kill him.”
 “You said you had a job for me,” Roman protested. He came into view as
Jensen turned the screen to face him, hiding behind the wall of tiny
fingerprints Felix had left. “What is it that you think I do, exactly?”
Jensen knew he could get any old private investigator to follow Quinn,
but he also knew any old private investigator would have to act within the
boundaries of the law.
Whereas Roman had no such qualms.
“For now, I need you to follow him,” he explained. “If we need to…
reassess things later, then we will.”
Roman rolled his eyes. “Fine. Send the company jet though. I want to
bring Jasmine with me if I’m coming for any longer than a weekend.” He
scratched the top of her head, and she raised a dainty paw to expose her
stomach. “Oh, you want a belly rub as well?”
“Where should the jet pick you up?” Jensen asked, brushing the hair out
of Felix’s eyes.
“Los Angeles. Message me over the details when you have them.”
“Will do. I’ll speak to you soon.”
“I’ll keep an eye out.” Roman gave them a lazy wave. “Bye mini-Jen,
love you!”

By the time he knocked on the door to Talia’s flat, Jensen had decided not
to mention the potential Quinn sighting. A split second glance of someone
who may or may not have been Quinn wasn’t good enough to worry her
with—and Roman would have it handled.
Talia answered the door, a bright smile lighting up her face. Her curls
were hidden in a cotton t-shirt tied around the top of her head—something
Jensen now knew was called plopping.
Someone could have come up with a less disgusting name, but whatever.
He’d found lots of hair-related practices had strange names. Last week,
she’d mentioned something called a co-wash and his cock had nearly
jumped out of his trousers and carried her to the shower before she
explained it was part of her hair regimen.
 “Hi Felix!” Talia exclaimed, taking Felix from Jensen’s arms and
cuddling him tight. “How did you get on with Dadda?”
Jensen kissed the top of Felix’s head on the way to his bedroom. “He was
my perfect little boy, of course.” As he replenished the nappies in the
changing bag, he could hear Talia and Felix happily playing his current
favourite game, albeit a simple one: squish. Normal cuddles randomly
interspersed with tight bear hugs.
Usually only played after waiting for Felix’s food to go down. Jensen had
learnt that the hard way.
Dinner was fast becoming one of his favourite times of day. Sometimes
he would put Felix to bed whilst Talia cooked, but most of the time it would
be the other way round. Not that he didn’t enjoy the former, but he enjoyed
the latter all the more.
After his decade-long stay at Her Majesty’s pleasure, he’d been far more
experimental with food than he was before he went to prison. The food
behind bars wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t brilliant either. Since his release,
he enjoyed trying cuisines he never would have otherwise.
And apparently Talia enjoyed trying them with him. Tonight, they were
trying pho. It had been simmering most of the afternoon, but hearing her
hum with approval at its taste made all of his effort worth it.
Even as he did, Jensen knew he had to tell her about prison soon. He
needed to tell her. She knew about Warren being in prison, how bad could
she possibly take it?
But he was innocent, a voice inside him argued.
Jensen was the furthest thing from innocent. Christ, even this afternoon
he’d called a fucking contract killer to have her old best friend followed.
And he had access to the security cameras around her flat.
What would he even say? And what if she took it badly? He couldn’t lose
his relationship with his son, not after spending so much time building it to
what it was today. Not to mention this was his and Talia’s first evening
alone together in weeks, thanks to her family.
He couldn’t spoil it all. Not yet.
Sunset found them sitting on the couch, deep in the midst of planning
Felix’s first birthday party. They’d narrowed it down to two choices: having
it at a local petting zoo or doing it at the soft play centre they always went
to.
 “I think the petting zoo would be better,” Jensen said, flicking through
their advertising booklet.
“Hmm.” Talia shuffled over to glance at it with him, her hair now crisp,
curly, and un-plopped. “I’m leaning towards the petting zoo too. We’ve
been to that soft play so many times. I know he’s not going to remember his
first birthday, but I certainly will.”
A smile lifted his face. “Me too. And I like your idea of a professional
photographer. It’ll ensure that we can all focus on enjoying ourselves rather
than worrying about getting the perfect photo. Plus a professional
photographer will be able to take far better photos than we ever could have
done.”
Talia sucked in an excited breath. “We could dress him up as a mini
zookeeper too! Oh my god, how adorable would that be?”
He snorted out a laugh, nodding his agreement. “Done. And I think we
should go with the pony experience.” The zoo offered a variety of animals,
from mice to skunks to pythons, but Jensen had his doubts about anything
small and… squishable. “I don’t think he’s physically capable of hurting a
pony, even if he tried.”
“I agree. Shall I call them tomorrow to confirm?”
“I don’t mind doing it whilst you drive Mia to her 3D scan. Assuming she
doesn’t have the baby overnight. Poor woman looks like she’s going to
burst.”
Talia looked away, her focus drifting. “She probably feels like it too. I
remember in the last few weeks of my pregnancy it felt like I was going to
be pregnant forever. My entire body was aching. I did nothing but whine
and cry to Dad and Darcy. Sometimes simultaneously. Looking back on it
now it feels a bit like a fever dream. I couldn’t breathe properly, I couldn’t
bend over, I couldn’t go five minutes without needing to wee. I think I went
a teeny bit insane, to be honest.”
Guilt was boring a hole in his skull, but when he went to speak, she
silenced him with a finger against his lips.
“Don’t say you’re sorry. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t mine either.” She
gave him a stern look. “Can we just… move past it? I want to be able to
talk about my pregnancy without worrying about whether it’s going to send
you into a fit of apologies.”
Exhaling, he nodded. “In that case…” Jensen smoothed a hand against
her cheek. “I want you to know that I am so fucking proud of you. My
perfect girl.”
Slowly, her lips parted. She nudged into his hand, closing her eyes.
When she opened them again, they were burning with arousal.
Starved of her touch, Jensen broke first. Their lips collided, hungrily
sliding against each other. They both knew it would be tonight. His
apprehension had slowly built throughout the day, and he would have bet
his life on Talia experiencing the same. His lungs burned as he gasped for
air, but he wasn’t sure what he needed more, oxygen or Talia.
Sending the various booklets flying, Jensen hauled her over his lap, the
light material of her skirt floating around them both. He needed to
remember her weight over his cock, her thighs around his hips, her arms
over his neck. He groaned as she settled over him, curving his hips up
against her. “Are you wet for me?”
Biting her lip, she leant backwards slightly. “Find out for yourself.”
He’d never moved faster. Jensen didn’t bother fiddling around with her
underwear; instead, he ripped the thin, lacy fabric circling each of her
thighs until he was able to tear it off completely.
“Those were my favourite pair!” she exclaimed, her jaw dropping in
outrage.
He glanced at the label, intending to offer to replace them.
Instead, he could scent a whisper of the dainty, exquisite fragrance
clinging to the fabric. Fuck. Groaning, Jensen pressed them against his
nose, gritting his teeth with satisfaction. His eyes hooded with pleasure, his
erection threatening to burst free at any moment. “You smell so fucking
good.”
A smile quirked the edge of her lips. “I know where you can find more.”
He growled, bracing her body as he turned his hips to the side. When he
let her go, she landed on the sofa with a light thump, her thighs still spread
wide. Feral noises left him when he sighted the heaven between her thighs,
her arousal glistening in the low evening light.
Jensen descended, slinging one of her legs over the back of the sofa and
the other over his shoulder. He swirled his tongue over every inch of her
essence, quickly becoming lost in the primal carnality of the task, all
against the backdrop of Talia’s whimpers and moans. He adored this. Every
inch of him lit up like a raging inferno. This time, he savoured every
moment, not knowing when he’d get the chance again.
 Talia’s hands buried themselves in his hair, steering him where she
wanted—and he went more than willingly.
He could do this for hours, letting his tongue slide along the silky smooth
grooves of her cunt, losing himself in her sweet, metallic taste.
During the day, he could kid himself; he was a respectable businessman,
he was professional, he was trustworthy. But at night, he could admit the
truth. When Talia spread her thighs for him, he was a wild animal, rabid for
the taste of her orgasm.
Her hips tilted against him as she neared her climax, and so he locked an
arm around her waist to keep her steady. He couldn’t let her get away from
him now; he needed her to finish more than she needed it herself. Talia
moaned above him, echoing his own grunts and groans. He lapped and
sucked and kissed, until she made those telltale pants he loved, signall—
The flat’s buzzer sounded.
Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“Wait,” Talia murmured, lifting his head up slightly. She panted, laying
an arm across her forehead. “I think that might be a mini bookcase for
Felix, could you let them up? My legs are jelly.”
Jensen nodded, kissing her clit and her mouth in quick succession as he
got up. He flipped his erection into the waistband of his trousers. “If it’s
your dad, I’m telling him to fuck off.”
She laughed, as though he wasn’t a hundred per cent serious.
Thankfully, it was a delivery, and he buzzed them up. He only hoped
Euan hadn’t organised a trojan delivery wherein another of Talia’s relatives
would explode out of the package when Jensen least expected it.
Whilst Talia hid on the other side of the sofa, he accepted the parcel,
frowning when he realised how heavy it was. A mini bookcase? Was it
made from cast iron? He deposited it next to the front door, and Talia sat up
as he approached her.
“Are you not bringing it over here?” she said, poking her nose over the
back of the sofa.
Smirking, he grabbed her ankles, yanking her down the cushions until she
fell flat on her back, giggling all the way. “Not when I was mid-way
through servicing the woman I lov—”
He stopped, his eyes widening at his blunder, but not as much as hers.
The sudden silence between them was the loudest he’d ever heard.
 “Forget I said anything,” Jensen said, his hands still curled around her
ankles. He sat, attempting to give them a reassuring squeeze.
Instead, Talia shook her head, a slight smile curving her lips. “Did you
mean it?”
His answer was immediate; he wasn’t going to cower away from it.
“Yes.”
“Say it.” A pink slash crested her cheekbones as her smile turned into a
fully-fledged grin, her fingers touching his.
“I love you, Talia. I think I have from the moment I saw you up on that
stage. Even when we were separated, and I never thought I’d see you
again,” he stroked the soft skin on her hand, enjoying the little shiver her
shoulders gave, “some part of me knew that you were it for me.”
She launched herself at him in a tangle of floaty skirts and vivid red curls.
Her lips found his somewhere in the middle of it all, fusing them together in
a kiss that he never wanted to end. Talia straddled him, rolling her hips
against his. Blood surged to his cock so quickly he almost felt light-headed.
“I need you inside me,” she gasped against his ear, her breathy voice
lighting up every nerve in his body.
Jensen whipped his trousers open and fisted his cock. “Don’t worry, baby
girl. I’ll give you what you need.” He teased her entrance with the thick,
blunt head, coating himself in her glistening arousal before pulling her
down onto him in a long, slow glide that had them both moaning into their
embrace.
Talia’s eyes fluttered with pleasure, and she let out a broken, “Jay.”
Almost on reflex, he thrust upwards once more. “I love it when you call
me that,” he admitted against her lips, his fingers digging into her thighs as
he lifted her slightly. “When it’s just the two of us and we don’t have to
hide it.”
On the next thrust, Talia erupted with a cry, but it only spurred him on.
He began to move faster, sheathing himself inside her so forcefully the
sound echoed around them. The last few weeks had been torture, needing
her and not having her, and he unleashed every moment of need festering
inside him.
The harder he moved, the wetter Talia became, their bodies making slick,
obscene sounds. Unexpectedly, she moved back against him, until she was
meeting his every thrust.
 “That’s it,” he encouraged her, his voice a growl of need. Of course it
would take her a little while to get the hang of it; she’d been a virgin when
they met. And now she’s all mine. “Ride me. Ride this cock like I know you
need to.”
A vicious little snarl ripped across her face, her eyes lowering with
arousal. She yanked on the back of his hair to gain the leverage she needed
before she pounded her hips against his.
Seizing his chance, Jensen slipped a hand between them, letting his
thumb graze over her clit in time with her movements. Her tight, wet cunt
constricted around him, and it took all of his willpower to keep his orgasm
down. “You look so fucking sexy riding my cock like this, taking me deep
into your tight pussy.”
Talia hissed out a moan, either from pleasure or from the crassness of his
words. “Jay,” she whimpered, her eyes closing as he worked his thumb in
delicate circles around her clit.
“Bounce on my cock, Talia. It’s all yours, isn’t it?”
“Yes!”
“And this?” Jensen gave her a hard thrust, sliding home to prove his
point. “This is all mine. Only mine. Do you understand?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll never bother to think about another
man,” he promised, plunging deep inside her. A groan shuddered out of him
as her walls clasped him in rhythmic movements.
She was close—and so was he.
“Let go,” he whispered against her lips. Their bodies never stilled,
hungrily taking what they needed. Jensen shot her a dominating glare, his
chest pounding with exertion. “Give me your orgasm. I know it’s there,
isn’t it, baby?”
Her arms still wrapped around his neck, she whimpered.
“I’ll catch you, I won’t let you fall.” One handed, Jensen held her tighter,
taking over her movements. No doubt her hips must be burning by now. It
was her first time on top; he knew her muscles wouldn’t be used to such a
workout. “See?” he breathed into her ear, continuing to pound into her, his
thumb still rolling over her clit. “I have you, so just let go.”
That was all the permission she needed.
Talia buried a quivering scream in his neck, her orgasm coming in wave
after wave, her cunt clasping him tighter than a fist. Her legs shook, but he
wasn’t sure if it was from exertion or pleasure. The latter, he hoped.
“You’re astonishing,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
His balls tightened, ready to explode. “And you look so pretty when you
come on my cock, baby girl.”
Her eyelids still fluttering, Talia lifted her head and looked him in the
eye. “I love you too,” she said hoarsely. “Now come inside me. I need to
feel you again. Please.”
As if he could deny her when she’d asked so sweetly.
Jensen released his hold over his climax, unleashing it inside her. “Fuck,”
he snarled against her lips, concealing his hoarse groan in their kiss. His
seed ripped from him in a hot rush of ecstasy, erupting inside her in waves
that lasted an eternity.
When it eventually faded, Jensen found himself lazily sprawled across the
sofa, with Talia still straddling his hips. His head had fallen onto the back of
the seat, with hers nestled against it. She panted in his ear, needing as much
time to recover as he did.
Even in the midst of exhaustion, his hands roamed over her body,
massaging up and down her spine, trailing over her hips, or even locking
around her ankles.
He’d spent eighteen months desperately needing this woman. He’d never
stop touching her to make sure it was all real, that it wasn’t all a fantasy
he’d cooked up in a dream.
It was Jensen that broke the silence. Eventually.
“Did you mean it?” he asked softly, echoing her question from earlier. He
didn’t bother saying more; she knew what he meant.
Talia sat up. Her eyes were half closed once more, but this time it was
from sleep rather than pleasure. A hint of a smile twitched her lips. “Yes.
Did you?”
“Yes,” he repeated, his chest inflating with pride. “More than anything.”
She exhaled, long and slow, before cupping his cheek. “I want you to
know… I messaged Tarik while you were out with Felix.”
“I didn’t know you had his number.” Jensen frowned, tracing circles
around her thighs. “Is there something wrong with the security system?”
“He left a business card, and no. I just wanted to update it a little,
although I did have a few… questions about a recent update.” Talia stroked
his face, giving him a strangely smug smile. “I asked him to add your phone
to the keyless entry system. A virtual key to my flat, essentially.”
 His heart gave a sharp squeeze. “You’re giving me a key?”
“I already have. Tarik added your number to the system today.”
Guilt weaved through his ribcage. Was that really how keyless entry users
were added to smart entry systems or had Tarik just said that to cover for
the fact that Jensen already had a virtual key to Talia’s flat?
“Thank you,” he managed, swallowing down his feelings of unease. She
trusted him enough to give him a key, without knowing that he’d had one
the entire time.
Not that he’d ever used it—with the exception of letting the two of them
into the flat after the nightclub incident.
Talia gave an embarrassed little shrug. “I just thought it made sense to
make things official. You’re here all the time anyway. And I’d trust you
with our lives.”
Her smile might as well have been a blade to the chest. Jensen just
wondered if she’d change her mind if she discovered he’d betrayed her trust
from the start.

OceanofPDF.com
 24

Talia

re you sure you’re feeling okay?” Talia asked, sitting on one of the
“A benches dotted around the gardens. A Japanese acer tree brushed
against her shoulders, its red colour almost matching the shade of her
hair.
Mia rubbed her side, letting the back of the bench take her weight. “Just
give me a moment to catch my breath.”
Nodding, Talia didn’t want to make a fuss. To the side of them, the long,
flowing branches of a willow tree swayed with the wind. It was Mia’s turn
to choose their destination this week, and she’d chosen a Japanese garden
island hidden away in Regent’s Park.
It was beautiful, with the constant rush of the waterfall before them and
the birds twittering around them. The rest of London was bustling with
people, but the Japanese garden was a tiny oasis in the middle of all of it.
She smiled. Perhaps she could come here with Jensen and Felix. The two
of them were at soft play this morning, whilst Reggie was with Cameron’s
mother. All of which meant that, for the first time ever, both she and Mia
were childless this morning.
“Ooh,” Mia exhaled, palming the base of her stomach. “That was right in
my bladder.”
Well, externally childless anyway.
“He’s still breach then?” Talia gave her friend a grim smile.
 “Unfortunately.” The edge of Mia’s lip twisted briefly. “The obstetrician
tried to turn him this morning but no luck.” She blew out an unsteady
breath. “On top of everything else.”
Talia put an arm around Mia’s shoulders, trying to offer what little
comfort she could. “Cameron didn’t deserve you. He never did.”
“It feels like my entire world is crumbling away beneath my feet,” Mia
wiped away a tear threatening to escape. “I couldn’t sleep last night—even
more than usual. I just kept going over and over the video in my head. And
the worst part is that I know this is how that home-wrecking bitch wanted
me to respond. She sent it to me because she wanted him to herself. Who
even does that? Sends a video of themselves sleeping with a man to his
heavily pregnant girlfriend?”
Talia’s lips curled in revulsion. She couldn’t even imagine how Mia was
feeling right now. The last month of pregnancy was bad enough without
adding a shattered heart to the mix. “Scum. That’s who.”
Mia hugged her stomach, looking like the loneliest creature on earth. “I
really thought Cameron loved me. Loved us.” More tears slid down her
cheeks, but she didn’t bother to wipe those away. “You know what the
worst thing is?”
“What?”
“My midwife had me take an STI test,” she sniffed, letting out a hiccup.
“She said he could have given something to me and the baby.”
Anger surged through Talia. As if Mia didn’t have enough to worry about,
Cameron had to add insult to injury. “What did Cameron say when you
confronted him?”
Mia shrugged sadly. “Blamed me. Said parenting stresses him out, that he
never wanted to be a father. All while Reggie slept in the next room, and he
worships the ground Cameron walks on. He asked me this morning why
Daddy wasn’t there and I didn’t even know what to say.”
She dreaded the answer, but she had to ask. “Are you going to take him
back?”
“No.” Mia’s voice was soft, almost defeated. “Not this time. Even his
mum has washed her hands of him after it all came to light. She says she’s
on my side.”
“You’re making the right decision—and so is his mum,” Talia assured
her. “If you ever need help with anything—Reggie, the new baby, cooking,
cleaning, a back massage, a jar you can’t open, anything—I can be at your
front door in thirty seconds. And I know for a fact that I’d be better at all of
those than Cameron.”
A small laugh escaped Mia. “You’re not wrong. I remember asking him
for a back massage when I was in labour with Reggie and he did the most
limp-wristed wipe imaginable for 15 seconds before giving up. The
midwife ended up taking over.” Mia did a little giggle, then. “I loved her
actually, that midwife. Cameron ended up fainting when I was pushing and
she just looked at him in disgust and carried on.”
Talia’s snort tore across the lake in front of them, sending a nearby
pigeon flying. “Serves him right.”
“And then there was the time he picked a fight with some guy at the pub.
The landlord called me to come pick him up, and when I arrived he was
sitting on the curb bleeding. And then a few months later…”
By the time they left the idyllic gardens, the two of them were giggly
with mirth. Talia didn’t realise just how many embarrassing moments
Cameron had had, but they lightened her day tremendously. The gardens
helped—thick, lush greenery lighting up with the pinks and reds of early
summer.
They’d talked through Mia’s birth plan as well. The midwives had given
Mia an outline to work with, allowing her the opportunity to add her own
wants and needs, and Talia had been more than happy to type it up for her.
But now Mia had broken up with Cameron, there’d be a few changes.
The most recent adjustment would be to remove Cameron, but Talia was
ecstatic to be promoted from assistant birth partner to sole birth partner.
They were nearly at the car when Talia noticed a jogger making his way
up a path perpendicular to theirs. He was kitted out in all black, with a
baseball cap pulled low over his brow. Baseball caps were a common sight
when she was in New York, but at home they stuck out like a sore thumb.
Perhaps that was what made her take a second glance at the jogger, or
maybe she subconsciously recognised something about him. His gait,
maybe?
But then he turned onto their path, heading directly towards them—and
stopped dead in his tracks at the sight.
Quinn’s eyes widened, flicking to her and Mia as his chest seethed with
exertion. He no doubt looked as shocked as she did. “Talia? Why are you
here?”
 “Me? Why are you here?” Next to her, she could sense Mia’s confusion.
Not wanting to add to her burdens, Talia hadn’t told Mia what truly
happened between her and Quinn. All she’d said was that they’d fallen out.
Quinn laughed, pointing at a red brick building they could just about see
through the dense woodland. “Did you forget I live right there? I have
every right to be here.”
Shit. Whenever she’d visited Quinn at his student accommodation
previously she’d driven in on a different road. But now that she looked at
the building more closely, of course she recognised it.
“Actually, Talia, I need to talk to you,” he took off his baseball cap, his
eyes pleading. “I’m sorry about that night. I was drunk—”
“And I don’t want to discuss it,” she replied firmly, taking Mia’s elbow
and walking on. As the seconds passed, she realised how acutely vulnerable
they were. Quinn had been the only person they’d seen since arriving here.
Trees and bushes crowded them from all angles, concealing them from the
outside world. “We’re leaving. Jensen is waiting for us by the car,” she
bluffed.
Quinn’s expression changed in the blink of an eye. He snagged her by the
wrist with a derisive, self-satisfied sneer. A flash of memory came to her, of
his hands on her body, the feel of a freezing cold wall behind her. “Don’t lie
to me. Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?”
Fear stuttered her breath. “Quinn—”
A high, pained shriek sliced the icy stillness, making both her and Quinn
jump. Mia doubled over, clutching her stomach with one hand and blindly
pawing at Talia with the other. “The baby,” she panted, letting out another
cry of pain. “I think the baby’s coming.”
Adrenaline surged through her. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
Mia shook her head, breathing in through her nose and out through her
mouth. “The car’s only over the—”
Another cry of pain shook Mia’s shoulders, but Talia didn’t need to hear
the rest. “Come on then.” She slipped a supportive arm around her friend’s
waist. Half debating asking Quinn to lend a hand, Talia turned to face him.
Only to find he’d disappeared.
Fucking coward.
She expected it to take an age to get to the car, but Mia shuffled over
surprisingly quickly. When she’d been in labour, Talia could barely make it
to the en suite and back without wanting to keel over. She put Mia in the
passenger seat, hurrying around to the driver’s side.
But as soon as Talia got in, Mia hit the locks. All sign of pain
disappeared, replaced with suspicious glances around them. “Let’s get out
of here quickly. He could still be watching.”
Putting her foot down, Talia rocketed towards the exit as her mind caught
up. “You aren’t in labour at all, are you?”
“No,” Mia gave her an apologetic grimace. “Sorry if I scared you. I
thought if I screamed it would freak him out.”
Talia let out a laugh, more relieved than amused. “It did. He just
vanished. Did you notice?”
“I saw him going down a small track whilst you were facing me,” Mia
snorted. “I didn’t realise he’d disappear altogether.”
“Thank god he did.”
Despite knowing the danger had passed, Talia’s heart still raced. The
journey home wasn’t long—twenty minutes at most—but it took an
eternity. She hoped Jensen was back from his outing with Felix.
She needed him. She needed him to take her in his arms and tell her
everything would be okay.
Mia broke her chain of thought. “You didn’t exactly tell me the whole
story with Quinn, did you?”
It took her a second to reply. “At the time, I thought I told you the truth,
that I’d kissed him while drunk. But it was the other way round.”
“He kissed you?”
Talia pressed the brake pedal as they came to a standstill, joining a long
line of traffic heading south. Her voice was quiet. “Quinn tried to force
himself on me whilst I was drunk.”
Mia’s sudden gasp somehow cut deeper than her scream.
“I’m okay,” she carried on, refusing to look at Mia. “Jensen found us and
stopped him. He brought me home and looked after me. That was the video
I showed you.”
Mia took her hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’m glad he found you in
time.”
“Me too.” She didn’t like to think about what could have happened if he
didn’t.
Back at the mansion block, Talia bade farewell to Mia, tapping her foot as
the lift took her up to the top floor. She’d seen Jensen’s car in the
underground car park.
He was here. And she desperately needed him right now.
Talia didn’t remember getting out of the lift, or unlocking her front door.
All she knew was the blinding, consuming need to see him.
Jensen sat at the dining table on his laptop, his fingers flying over the
keyboard and a look of exasperation on his face. He glanced up as she
entered, his expression shifting when he caught sight of her. “Talia,” he
murmured, getting to his feet. “What’s wrong?”
She couldn’t hold in her bravado any longer. That brief shock of memory
from that night at Celestial had done more damage than she realised, and
the encounter with Quinn had almost finished her off.
Talia rushed towards him, trying to outrun it all. She leapt into his
embrace with a sigh of relief. He caught her, as she’d known he would.
Wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, she
produced a sob, quickly followed by another, and before long she found
herself weeping freely into his neck.
All the while, Jensen whispered words of comfort into her ear, his hand
making soothing passes up and down her spine. Through her tears, she
couldn’t hear exactly what he said, but at the centre of it all lay a simple
fact.
Safe. She was safe now.

Much later, Talia woke to find herself on the sofa, sprawled over Jensen.
Through the window, she could see the encroaching blue-black of night
chasing away the last of the day. The steady, comforting beat of Jensen’s
heart thumped in her ear.
He was awake, in the middle of typing one-handed on his phone. A tinge
of envy hit her as she watched; if that wasn’t proof that mobile phones were
designed for men, she didn’t know what was. His large hand practically
engulfed the phone, tapping all the buttons effortlessly.
If Talia tried that, she’d end up dropping the damn thing, with her
comparatively tiny reach.
 She gave a long stretch, scrunching up her toes. The last thing Talia
remembered was putting on a film she wanted to watch, but a brief glance
told her the TV was now turned off. She hadn’t seen much of it, then.
Jensen stroked her back. “Hello, you.”
“Hey,” she smiled up at him, his heart still beating in her ear. “Getting
some work done?”
“Checking in on a friend’s flight. How are you feeling?”
The reminder of her day dimmed her good mood slightly. “Better than I
was earlier. Thank you for being here.”
Jensen kissed her temple. “I’m always going to be here for you.” His
thumb swirled over her shoulder in rhythmic circles. “Do you want to talk
about it again?”
Talia shook her head. Going over the encounter with Quinn once had
been difficult enough.
Perhaps he knew that, because he changed the subject. “How did Mia like
the birth plan you typed up for her?”
“She loved it,” Talia answered proudly. “Now she’s broken up with
Cameron I’ll have to change a few things, but she mentioned a few other
adjustments. She originally wanted to give birth at home but they still
haven’t managed to turn the baby.”
He gave a sympathetic grimace. “That’s a shame. I know she was really
hoping they could. What about a water birth? Wasn’t that one of her ideas?”
“She won’t be given the option if she’s breach, even in hospital.” She
weaved her fingers into his. “But she wants me to be her birth partner now
instead of Cameron.”
Jensen shot her a genuine smile. “You’ll do brilliantly, baby girl.”
Talia hoped so. “What if I don’t?” she whispered, giving in to a moment
of self-doubt.
He let out a half-concealed snort. “Well you could practically trip over
the bar Cameron set. As long as you do better than him, you’ll be fine.”
“True,” she grinned. “But I did want to mention ahead of time, births can
sometimes take days. Would you be okay looking after Felix by yourself?”
Jensen did his best not to look offended. “Of course. There’s plenty of
breast milk stored in the freezer. Whenever Mia goes into labour, I’ll take
care of things here and you focus on her.”
Relief eased over her spine. It hadn’t registered until precisely that
moment that she wasn’t alone any longer. She was used to carrying all of
the burdens of parenthood solely on her shoulders, but for the first time in
months she could take a breath.
Jensen was no longer just Felix’s biological father. He was his dad. His
parent.
“How many weeks pregnant is she now?”
“Thirty-six. She’s full-term at thirty-seven.” A bubble of excitement grew
within her. “Is it weird that I’m looking forward to it?”
“No, I know you’re excited to meet the baby.”
“True, but it isn’t even that. I’ve loved helping Mia through her
pregnancy, and I love the birthing process even more. I heard other medical
students talking about the course at university and they were so excited to
learn about the human body, and I couldn’t relate. But I feel that kind of
excitement for pregnancy and childbirth. Even the postpartum period is
fascinating to me.”
Jensen listened with rapt attention, his eyes soft. “You’ve found
something you’re passionate about.”
“I have,” she realised, a little wiggle passing over her shoulders.
That buzz stayed with her through the rest of the evening and, as Jensen
made dinner, Talia used it to zoom through a list of tasks that needed doing.
She quickly typed up, printed, and laminated several copies of Mia’s
updated birth plan, reorganised some of the books on her bookshelf, replied
to a few messages from Darcy, and she sorted through and folded a load of
Felix’s washing, silently tip-toeing into his bedroom to put it away whilst he
slept.
Dinner still wasn’t done when she finished, and so she glanced around the
flat looking for something to do. Her gaze landed on the parcel Jensen had
accepted yesterday—the mini bookshelf she’d ordered for Felix’s birthday.
After getting Jensen to carry it into her bedroom, she sat down to unbox
and wrap it.
It didn’t take her long to notice that something was very amiss with the
bookshelf.
Beneath the packaging, she touched a soft leathery material instead of the
solid oak she’d been expecting. That couldn’t be right. She grunted as she
unearthed it, unprepared for just how much it weighed.
It was just… a black leather square, with a partition line three quarters of
the way up. It wasn’t a bookshelf. That was for sure. But it was her name
and address on the label, so it had come to the right place. Had Dad or
Darcy ordered a gift for Felix without telling her?
Holding below the partition line, she turned the section above it—and
finally got somewhere. The top was weightier than she’d expected, and she
could feel objects moving around inside as she spun it.
Was it some sort of toy box? She untwisted the top section and eagerly
looked inside.
And her jaw hit the floor.
Oh no, this is not a toy for children.
Recognition hit her like a sledgehammer, taking her back to Lux, to her
night with Jensen. The way it had all started, with him sitting fully-clothed
in an armchair and her straddling a footrest completely naked.
A Sybian.
What had Jensen called it? A vibrating saddle.
With some difficulty, she pulled it out of what she now realised was its
storage box, settling it on her bedroom floor. It sat there innocuously,
looking every bit like the footrest she’d once assumed it to be.
The top third of the storage box—the lid—wasn’t empty either. A mesh
lining held in its contents, and Talia unzipped it to discover it was stuffed to
the brim with attachments for the Sybian. Some were simple pads, like the
one she’d used at Lux, but others had dildos of varying sizes—and shapes.
She surveyed it all with wide eyes, sighting a dark blue envelope at the
bottom of the empty cardboard box it came in. She slid it open, knowing it
could have only come from one person. There sat a message, printed in an
angular, ornamental script:
Think of me when you use this, baby girl.
“Jensen?” she called, unable to stop looking at the attachments. All she
could think about was the devastating orgasm she’d had on the Sybian at
Lux. It made her thighs clench even now.
She thought about the simple vibrator in her bedside table, hidden
underneath her silk bonnets. She might as well retire it here and now; there
was no way it could hold its own against something like this.
Jensen’s head poked round her bedroom door. “Everything oka—oh.” He
blinked, letting a leisurely smirk climb across his jaw. “That isn’t a
bookcase.”
Talia almost laughed. “Nope.”
 “What do you think?” His voice was dark with sensual amusement. “You
didn’t hold up your end of the deal at Lux.”
“Deal?”
“You were supposed to buy one of these with the money from your
auction.”
Her eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline, and she gestured in
the direction of Felix’s bedroom. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied!”
“I know,” he murmured, prowling towards her. “So I thought I’d save you
the trouble. It took its time arriving.”
“How long ago did you order it?”
“A couple of months.” Jensen knelt, leaning back on his thighs as he
inspected the wide array of attachments. “After that night in your bathroom,
where I fucked you in front of the mirror.” He touched her chin, tilting her
head to look up at him. “After you admitted to wanting me to fuck you
senseless.”
The memory of that night sent heat between her legs, and a desperate
little moan escaped her before she could stop it.
Jensen’s smirk grew. “Now you’re going to be a good girl and come and
eat the dinner I prepared, aren’t you?”
Talia nodded, her body lighting up with arousal.
His touch found her hips, moving downwards, until he came dangerously
close to her pussy. “And then we’re going to come in here and see how
many times I can make you come on this, aren’t we?”
She nodded again, anticipation surging through her veins.
“Stand up.” His gaze was predatorial as he watched her follow his
instruction. “Now take your clothes off.”
Weren’t they skipping a step? Slowly, Talia obeyed, a questioning look on
her face.
“Your underwear too. I want you naked—there we go,” he purred, as her
clothes hit the floor. Jensen went up on one knee, taking one of her nipples
in his mouth and sucking hard. She moaned at the suction, at him
swallowing her milk down, his hands digging into her hips. The sudden
pleasure was intense, but he quickly moved to the other.
His lips passed over her skin, slowly working downwards in tantalising
flicks, against a chorus of her sighs and gasps. With every second that
passed, her hopes raised that they were skipping dinner. Dinner could be
postponed, but the wetness between her legs was growing exponentially.
 And, as Jensen pushed her against the wall and slung her leg over his
shoulder, she assumed he wanted to verify that for himself.
Instead of heading straight for her centre, he nipped her thigh, travelling
upwards until he met the crease at the top of her leg. The stubble on his jaw
abraded the soft, delicate skin, and a ticklish giggle erupted from her chest.
“No!” she laughed, fisting her hand in his hair to pull him away.
Thankfully, he took pity on her, shooting a devilish grin upwards before
he lapped at the glistening arousal bathing her skin. He worked inwards
slowly, building her anticipation until she was arching off the wall, eager to
help his tongue bridge that final gap to—
Jensen pulled away, running his thumb along the edge of his bottom lip.
He got to his feet, the smug amusement never leaving his expression.
“What are you doing?” He’d been so close to giving her that final bit of
stimulation to push her over the edge.
“I told you. Dinner’s ready.” His hand took hers, pulling her away from
the wall.
“But I’m naked.”
Jensen lifted her chin, tipping her head back. “And you’re going to stay
that way all evening, aren’t you?”
An embarrassing squeak left her, her thighs clenching and her nerves
crying out for more.
Oh god. This was going to be torture.

OceanofPDF.com
 25

Jensen

J
ensen couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Somehow this was even better than the last time they were in this
position, her straddling a Sybian, shaking with pleasure, and him hungrily
watching every moment—because this time she was his.
And this time he could read her body even better than before, pushing her
to her very limit as she moaned and writhed and begged. How many orgasms
had she had now? He hadn’t been keeping track, but he knew they were
getting stronger. Jensen wanted to find out just how savage they could get.
Judging by the sounds she was making, her next orgasm was fast
approaching. “You ready? It’s coming, isn’t it?”
Moaning, Talia attempted to hunch over, her hands bracing her weight on
the black leather.
With a cruel smile, he watched her intently, holding the remote control in
his hand. Jensen took in her every movement—the lowering of her eyes, the
opening of her mouth—to ensure he caught her at just the right moment.
And, as her orgasm was about to crest, he clicked the remote control in his
hand. The vibrations silenced instantly.
“No!” she panted, her breasts heaving. “Please.” Her eyes pleaded up at
him, lost in the haze of pleasure.
Standing, Jensen unclipped his belt, the metal tinkling. He couldn’t wait
any longer. His cock was as solid as an iron rod, dripping into his boxers, and
all he could think about was that first slide inside her—and the bliss that
would follow.
“Bend over, Talia. Keep your knees where they are.” Whilst she obeyed, he
rustled through the assorted attachments that came with the Sybian until he
found what he was looking for; one that looked vaguely reminiscent of a tow
ball. Although it wasn’t penetrative, the attachment sloped up on one side,
topped with a ball, before sharply dropping.
Perfect.
He almost had to bite his knuckles when he looked back at Talia. Fucking
hell.
She’d bent forward—as instructed—until her top half was prostrate on the
carpet. But with her knees spread, every part of her was exposed, flushed pink
with arousal.
He knelt behind her, quickly switching the attachments on the Sybian
before putting a hand on each of her arse cheeks and spreading her even
further. Jensen groaned, his cock begging to sink inside her. Seeing her like
this felt so forbidden; she was still a teenager, for fuck’s sake, and here he
was exposing her to his heart’s content, taking away her innocence bit by bit.
Lining up the Sybian, he pulled her backwards slightly, until her clit rested
against the attachment’s slope. “Have I ever told you how magnificent you
are?”
Talia made a sleepy noise that suggested the Sybian had sapped all of her
energy.
Jensen paused, his cock half out of his trousers. “Do you want to go to
bed?”
She made a dismissive noise, her hips tilting back towards him.
Thank Christ for that.
Seed leaked from the tip of his cock as he aligned their bodies together, but
she barely stirred.
And then, as Jensen thrust his hips forward, he hit the button on the remote
control.
A strangled squeal left her, her fingers seizing hold of the carpet fibres.
Jensen groaned at the feel of her swallowing him whole. How did this keep
getting better and better?
To stop her being shunted forward, he grabbed hold of her shoulders with
both hands, keeping her steady as he picked up speed.
The faster he moved, the more intense it became. He could feel the
vibrations travelling through her body. No wonder it had rendered her
senseless; this was sublime.
Jensen let his head fall back as he thrust, exposing the bump in his throat.
Fuck, there was no way he was going to last as long as he wanted with the
vibrations putting him on a fast-track to release.
Talia was having the same problem, her moans becoming more incoherent
and her cunt throbbing around him.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” he encouraged her. “Do you like me using
you like this? Making you come until you’re senseless, until I can take you
however I want?”
She sobbed out a moan.
“God, I want to use you like this every night,” he snarled, slamming into
her as she panted. He wrestled down his release, the vibrations working
against him. “I want to strap you to this and fill you so full of my seed that
you’re leaking for days. Your cunt is mine to defile, do you hear me?”
“Oh—I’mcomingI’mcomingI’mcoming,” Talia slurred, her voice muffled
against her arms, her toes curling around his calves.
Jensen groaned, the relief at being able to let go almost as good as the
release itself. Spurt after spurt flooded into her, going on for so long that it
seemed like it was never going to end.
Through it all, he clung to just enough awareness to press the button on the
remote control.
Resting his forehead on her back, Jensen wrapped his arms around Talia’s
waist, pressing an exhausted kiss to her spine. “I love you,” he whispered,
using the last of his energy to pull her to her feet and settle her in bed.
Jensen’s lips edged up in a smile; she was fast asleep before he’d even
begun to put her silk bonnet on.

Quinn is here.

Roman

Jensen glanced up, his good mood evaporating. Before him, the petting zoo
employee listed off interesting facts about Shetland Ponies. Up until he’d read
that fucking text, he’d been pleased with how Felix’s first birthday party had
been going.
A host of Talia’s friends from her baby groups had attended, bringing both
babies Felix’s age and their older children with them, as well as a few from
his dad-centric baby group. They were scattered across a handful of picnic
tables at present, all watching the zoo employee. There’d been no major
upsets or accidents—a few tears here and there. Mia’s son Reggie had been
terrified of a goat at one point, but he’d recovered quickly.
Jensen couldn’t say he blamed him, seeing the horizontal slit in their eyes.
There had also been no major upsets between himself and Euan. Jensen had
caught him glaring once or twice, but he’d quickly stopped with a nudge from
Alison—and, on one occasion, Darcy. He’d have to thank her for that later.
Darcy had stayed at Talia’s flat last night, and he’d expected her to raise an
eyebrow when he and Talia slept in the same room, but there hadn’t even
been that.
Even Rhys and Aldous had arrived—although Jensen wasn’t sure whether
they came as normal guests or to ensure Euan behaved himself. It hadn’t
taken Rhys long to get involved in the party, being led around by little Reggie
whilst Mia took a well-deserved break. Mia herself hadn’t stopped smiling
the entire day; according to Talia, her midwife had managed to turn the baby
head down yesterday, meaning she was able to have a home birth after all.
As expected, Aldous kept to himself. He didn’t interact with anyone other
than family, and even that was brief. Warren and Kate had spoken with him
for a few minutes, but they’d quickly moved on, whilst Aldous remained
leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes ever watchful.
Keeping the rage off his face, Jensen sent a reply.

Detain him and send me your location

Do you want him alive?

Roman

For now

Jensen gave Talia a kiss on the cheek as he excused himself from their
picnic table, heading off in the direction of the toilets. Checking his phone,
Roman’s location popped up—he was just past the entrance to the zoo.
 Scoffing, he shook his head. Quinn hadn’t even made it into the zoo itself.
Good.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Jensen turned at the sound of Euan’s voice, shooting him a hard glare. He
debated making up an excuse, but in the end decided to be truthful. “Quinn is
here.”
Euan stood a few feet from the entrance to the toilets he’d clearly just
exited. His expression changed from suspicion to fury in the blink of an eye.
“How do you know that?”
Jensen held up his phone. “A friend’s been tailing him for the last couple of
weeks. He just messaged me.”
“That fucking bastard,” Euan snarled, looking as aggressive as any man in
a teal button-down shirt could. “I’m coming with you.”
“Come on then. We need to be quick,” he looked behind him to check the
coast was clear. “They’ll be bringing out the cake soon.”
Their journey to the front gates was a quick one. Animals in pens sailed by,
from inquisitive pigs to bleating goats to a large black-and-white lizard
sunning itself on a rock, until the car park finally came into view.
It took him a few moments to spot Roman, casually leaning against a dark
blue people carrier parked in the shade at the edge of the car park—but Quinn
was nowhere in sight.
“Hey Jenny,” Roman threw out as they came into earshot. “How’s the
party?”
“It was great until this,” he frowned, eyes searching. “Where is he?”
Roman remained silent, eyeing Euan.
“This is Talia’s dad, Euan. Euan, this is Roman, an old friend.”
“I prefer the term prison bestie,” Roman interjected, sliding the car door
open to reveal what was behind the blacked-out windows. “And Quinn is
gagged and tied up in here. You’re welcome.”
Jensen moved, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction when he saw Quinn was
indeed bound to the backseat, loops of rope securing him in place. Thick
black tape was affixed to his mouth, circling round his skull. For anyone else,
Jensen would have winced at how much that was going to hurt when it came
off.
But for Quinn? Shit, he hoped it hurt.
As casually as he could, Jensen climbed inside and slid the door shut
behind him. It took his eyes a moment to fully adjust to the low light. Warmth
suffused him, as though he’d just stepped off the company jet into a desert in
the middle of summer.
Quinn glared at him hatefully, a mixture of sweat and blood threading
down his temple. Despite the restraints, his knees were wide apart—a
mistake.
Jensen struck, digging his knee into Quinn’s groin and fastening a hand
around his neck. “Final warning,” he snarled, feeling the rasp in his throat. A
muffled howl of agony made its way through the tape, and Quinn’s knees
attempted to draw inwards, but Jensen only drove his knee in harder. “Come
near her again and I’ll kill you.”
Quinn shook his head, desperately thrashing in an attempt to dislodge
Jensen’s knee. His howl quickly became a shrill, undulating wail, but Jensen
had no mercy to give.
Finally, he retreated, breathing heavily. Quinn let out a sob, sagging against
his restraints and shaking with exertion. There was no room for hatred in his
eyes this time—only sheer relief that the pain had stopped.
Jensen wondered vaguely whether he’d managed to pop one of Quinn’s
bollocks.
When he exited the swelteringly hot car, Jensen was grateful for the light
breeze that lifted his hair. “Want to have a word with him?” he asked Euan
stonily, holding onto the doorhandle.
Euan glowered at Quinn, but shook his head. “I don’t have the stomach to
injure a bound man. I’m just grateful you do.”
His nostrils flared with satisfaction, glaring back at Quinn. “You’re damn
right I do.” Jensen nodded towards the petting zoo. “We should get back
before they realise we’re missing.”
“Oooh,” Roman left his perch on the bonnet to open up the boot. “Here.”
He brought out an enormous box wrapped in sparkly wrapping paper and
topped with a blue bow. “I bought a present for Felix’s birthday.”
Jensen couldn’t stop the sudden smile that came to his face. “You didn’t
need to do that.”
“Ummm yes, I did,” Roman gave him a lazy grin. “Can you send me a
video of him opening it? I want to see his face.”
Side-eyeing the car, Jensen’s eyes narrowed. “We can leave him in here for
ten minutes, right? You can come and meet him if you want.”
Roman nodded enthusiastically, eyes lighting up as he slid the car door
shut. “If we were talking about Jasmine I would say absolutely not, but for
him? I mean I’ve cracked the window, what else does he need? If we could
survive those journeys in that sweat box of a prison van, then he can survive
ten minutes in this.”
As the three of them walked into the zoo, Jensen purposefully lagged
behind Euan, holding Roman back with him. “Don’t tell Talia how we met.”
Roman blinked, the gift hoisted onto his shoulder with an ease that
suggested it wasn’t particularly heavy. “What?”
“She doesn’t know I was in prison,” Jensen admitted, keeping his voice low
as they walked back past the creepy bleating goats.
Wide eyes stared back at him. “She pushed a baby out of her vajayjay for
you and you can’t even be truthful with her?”
Jensen rubbed the back of his neck, swarming with guilt. “I know,” he
emphasised. “I know. I intend to tell her I just—not today, you know? It’s
Felix’s birthday. But I’ll tell her soon, I swear.”
Roman’s eyebrow gave him a sassy quirk, but their attention was quickly
diverted as the path opened up before them. The party was largely how they
left it, with families dotted around on picnic tables and a wide open space in
the middle of it all. The Shetland Pony had disappeared, replaced with a large
lizard that looked almost comical in a harness, its long tail dragging behind it
as it slowly made its way around the space.
“Now the Argentine black and white tegu is the largest of the tegu lizards,”
the zoo employee said, projecting her voice. “In fact, they can reach sizes of
up to five feet long, although their tail makes up around two thirds of this.
Their native range—”
Jensen stopped listening, sighting Talia and Felix where he’d left them.
Talia frowned when she saw him, waiting until he’d slid back onto the
picnic bench next to her to whisper, “Where have you and Dad been?”
“We met outside the toilets and had a chat,” Jensen said, hating himself for
it. It wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. I can’t spoil Felix’s
birthday for her, and her mood would plummet if she knew Quinn was so
close.
“I hope chat doesn’t mean argument,” she chided softly, holding Felix as he
sat on the picnic table.
Jensen softly chucked Felix under the chin. “Your bampi was surprisingly
civilised, wasn’t he, wee man?” He waved to Roman as he sat opposite them,
putting the present on the ground next to him. “This is Roman. He’s an old
friend, but he can’t stay long.”
“Hii,” Roman said, flashing his teeth in a dazzling smile, as though there
wasn’t a man beaten, bound, and gagged in his car. The corners of his eyes
crinkled as he looked at Felix. “You are just the most precious little boy in the
world, aren’t you?”
“Want to hold him?” Talia offered politely.
Jensen sat in silence as Roman immediately accepted, coddling Felix to
within an inch of his life. The list of things he was keeping from Talia was
growing by the day, and uneasiness sat heavy on his shoulders. Even after
Roman departed, he couldn’t enjoy the day, not properly.
It never left his mind—the fact that if he’d told her the truth from the
fucking start, he could have avoided all of this. All of the secrecy and the
worry, but he was in too deep now. His convictions. The cameras. Quinn’s
behaviour.
He could either stay silent and hope for the best.
Or come clean and risk ending things between them for good.

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 26

Talia

ome on, cyw!” Talia grinned, sitting on the carpet and holding her
“C hands out to Felix.
The few feet between her and Jensen must have seemed vast to
him, but a look of abject concentration settled over their son’s expression as
he took his first shaky step to close the gap. Jensen’s broad hands went with
him, hovering a few centimetres away from Felix’s body.
A thrill went through Talia as Felix managed the next step; this was the
stage he usually fell down at, but she gasped as he bulldozed his way past it,
taking a third—and then a fourth.
She wanted to cheer Felix on, to give him words of encouragement, but
he tended to lose focus whenever one of them spoke. Instead, Talia shared
an animated glance with Jensen, who looked every bit as excited as she
was.
When Felix finally reached her, Talia hoisted him into the biggest hug she
could give without squishing him. “You did it!” she exclaimed, covering his
head in a barrage of kisses as he giggled.
Then Jensen was there, his arms locking round the two of them, every bit
as ecstatic as she was.
Their little boy could walk.
“We’re in so much trouble now, aren’t we?” Talia snorted, glancing
around the flat. Felix’s birthday cards were scattered across every surface
out of his reach—or what had been his reach until now. “Think of all the
mischief you can get up to if you can walk wherever you want.”
“Mmm,” Jensen murmured, kissing her cheek. “I’ll install all those safety
locks I ordered the other day. I didn’t realise we’d be needing them quite so
soon.”
“Neither did I.” Talia swept Felix’s hair back from his face. “And you
need a haircut, cyw.”
Tilting his wrist, Jensen checked his smart watch, letting Felix crawl
away from them. He headed for the Dalmatian see-saw that Roman had
gifted him, although thankfully he hadn’t worked out how to use it yet.
“There’s still time for me to take him today, if you like.”
“You mean the place you took him last time? With all the cars and trains
for them to sit in?”
Jensen nodded, his lips finding the curve of her neck. “Then he’ll be nice
and tired by the time he goes to sleep tonight.”
“Oh?” Talia made a breathy noise. “Did you have something particular in
mind?”
Jensen’s words rushed over her skin, his hands on her stomach. “Maybe
Felix can go and stay with Warren and Kate for the night instead. I’ve
needed to talk to you about something for a while now, if I’m honest. After
that? Maybe we can see how loud the Sybian can make you scream.”
Biting her lip, she nodded. “I could be convinced.” Although they’d have
to turn off the emergency alert on Tarik’s security system. The last thing
they wanted was to be interrupted by the police knocking on the door,
thinking she was screaming for a very different reason. “Maybe I can
message them and see if—”
Over on the coffee table, her phone began to ring, cutting off their
conversation. Letting out an unhappy hrumph, Talia crawled over on her
hands and knees, grinning when she felt his touch caressing her rear.
It was Mia. Talia smiled. “He—”
“I think I’m in labour,” Mia cut her off. A low grunt followed, the sound
distorted. Was that a contraction?
Talia swivelled round to shoot a panicked glance at Jensen before
scrambling to her feet. Waving goodbye to her evening plans, she went to
grab the bag she’d prepared. “I’ll be there in a minute. How long have you
been having pains?”
 “A few hours.” A few hours?! She was fine yesterday at Felix’s birthday
party. “I wasn’t even a centimetre dilated at my sweep after the party, so I
just assumed it was Braxton Hicks contractions,” Mia sniffed, her voice
twisting into a knot. “Cameron’s mum is on her way but it’s going to take
her an hour to get here. She was supposed to watch Reggie for me when I
went into labour but now I don’t know what to do. I just don’t want him to
be alone worrying about what’s happening.”
Shit. Talia knew there wasn’t anyone else Mia could ask. “I’ll watch him
whilst I’m helping you.”
As she was bending to put her shoes on, Jensen touched her shoulder.
“Can I help?” he murmured. “I can bring Felix and have a boys’ night in
with them playing games and watching films.”
Talia relayed the request to a hyperventilating Mia. “Would you be
comfortable with Jensen being in the flat too?”
“Yes,” Mia squeaked. “Just please hurry.”
Whilst Jensen stayed behind to gather Felix’s things, Talia ran to Mia’s
flat, sprinting through the mansion block’s long corridors. Not wanting to
get Mia up if she was in pain, Talia used her emergency key to get in. “It’s
just me,” she called, finding Reggie sitting on the couch, slowly patting
their sleek grey cat, Meg, and watching his favourite show blaring on the
TV.
“Hey, Reggie,” Talia smiled, bending down to his level. “Are you okay?”
Reggie nodded, tilting his head to look past her.
“I’m going to be helping your mum today. Felix’s dad is also going to be
here in a little while.”
That got Reggie’s attention. “Is Felix coming too?”
“Yeah, Felix will be here too, cyw.” Talia swallowed as a pained groan
echoed through the flat—originating from behind Mia’s bedroom door.
“Felix’s dad will answer all of your questions but right now I have to go
help Mummy.”
Reggie’s dark brown eyes were almost reproachful. “Okay,” he muttered,
his voice small.
Following the string of moans, she made her way to Mia’s bedroom. Her
friend was on all fours on the bed, letting out soft whimpers into her pillow.
Talia leapt into action, kicking off her shoes and hopping onto the bed.
“Where does it hurt?” she said, immediately beginning to massage Mia’s
lower back in long, slow strokes—just as Darcy had done when she was in
labour. She glanced at Mia’s alarm clock, making a mental note of the time.
“Here?”
Mia gave an affirmative moan.
“You just let me know if you want anything different. Have you called
your midwife?” Another affirmative moan. Good. Hopefully they would
arrive soon. “Jensen is just packing everything up to come down here, so he
won’t be a moment.”
Eventually, Mia’s shoulders relaxed. Her friend exhaled as the contraction
ended, and Talia whipped out her phone to note both the time and how long
it had lasted. “Right,” she said, ready to transform Mia’s bedroom into the
calming birthing room she’d specified in her birth plan. Just as she was
about to start searching for the waterproof sheets, there was a knock on the
door.
It was Jensen, thank god.
Talia introduced him to Reggie, relieved that he’d met Jensen several
times before now. He was quickly taken in with Jensen’s promises of pillow
forts and robot movies, leaving Talia free to set up the birthing room—until
Mia spoke again.
“I think I need to push.”
Talia whipped around, her eyes wide. Where is the fucking midwife?
Sweat pouring from her forehead, Mia ripped off her clothing, clearly
past the point of caring about modesty. She knelt at the head of the bed,
hands gripping the headboard.
“Don’t push yet,” she blustered. “Because…” I can’t remember why. Talia
just knew that a woman shouldn’t push before she was fully dilated. She
could almost see the paragraph in her textbook telling her why, but it was
nothing more than a blur. Something about swelling, maybe? “Let me just
check to see what’s happening down there, is that okay?”
Mia gave a helpless cry. “Hurry. My body’s pushing!”
Talia lay on the bed, shining the torch on her phone between Mia’s legs.
Oh fuck, no, no, no, no. “The head’s right there, Mia.”
“Can I push?”
If the baby was that far down the birth canal, Mia must be fully dilated.
Talia decided to listen to her instincts. “If you’re ready to push, then you
push.”
Mia heaved in a breath, before cutting it off with a groan. Exertion
reddened her face, sweat dripping from her temples.
 “Breathe, Mia. Breathe. Take deep breaths and push down towards your
bottom, down towards your bottom, that’s it. You’re doing amazing,” Talia
encouraged.
When the contraction was over, Mia let out a whine of distress, hanging
onto the headboard. “It hurts.”
“I know it does.” Talia couldn’t help but think of what Cameron was
doing at this very moment. Did he know that his child was being born? Did
he care?
The contractions came thick and fast. Mia barely had time to recover
from one before its successor was on her.
“Put all your energy into the next push,” Talia panted, almost as sweaty
as Mia. “The head’s nearly out. Don’t think about anything other than
pushing. You can do this. You’re ninety percent of the way there already.”
Juddering wildly, Mia nodded. Her face scrunched up as the contraction
approached.
“That’s it,” Talia tried not to let any fear into her voice. What if the baby
got stuck? What if the cord was wrapped around its neck? What if Mia tore
and bled out? Oh my god, I might be about to watch my friend die and
there’s nothing I can do about it. “Snatch a breath and go again. Don’t stop,
don’t stop, don’t stop. Snatch and go again. You can do this.”
Mia gave a long, animalistic bellow.
“The head’s out,” Talia announced, somewhere beneath Mia’s chorus of
groans. “Pant, pant, pant, pant.”
“It stings!” Mia shrieked, her nails digging into the headboard.
“One more push and it’ll be over,” Talia gave a frantic nod, wincing with
compassion as she remembered this stage of her own labour.
With one final, ear-piercing screech, Mia sagged against the bed. Talia’s
hands darted forward to catch the baby, wrapping them in a towel and
gently rubbing. Mia hadn’t tore. The cord wasn’t wrapped around the
baby’s neck. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I can’t believe I just did
that. “You did so well,” Talia squeaked, her eyes welling up at the little
bundle in her arms. Please cry. Please, please, please. She whimpered out a
sigh of relief when the baby gave a small, crackly cry.
“Are they okay?” Mia turned at the sound, attempting to see her baby for
the first time.
“They’re fine,” Talia sniffed—just above the baby’s enthusiastic wailing.
“A bit shocked, but they’re pinking up nice and quick. I’m about to pass
them through your legs, and then you can lay down. Be careful, the cord is
still attached.” She passed the tiny bundle to Mia before helping to guide
her onto her back. Tears streamed down her face all the while. “You were
amazing,” she blubbed.
“Thank you.” Sobbing, Mia unwrapped the baby, covered in a sticky
white coating and birthing fluids but so, so perfect. “She’s a girl.” She
brushed a finger over her daughter’s tiny button nose, hyperventilating with
relief and joy in equal measure. “My beautiful little girl.”
The baby screeched back, apparently furious to have been born.

Hours and hours later, Talia and Jensen lay in bed back at their flat. The
midwives had finally come and gone, giving both Mia and the baby a clean
bill of health—much to Talia’s overwhelming relief. Cameron’s mum had
arrived not long after the midwives, amazed to see the new arrival.
Moonlight streamed in through the bedroom window, bathing Talia in a
silver glow as she snuggled up beneath Jensen’s arm, somehow unable to
sleep. Was it the adrenaline in her system? Or was she just overtired?
“Was your labour like that?” Jensen whispered into the night.
Talia snorted. “I suppose so, at its core. There was an incredible amount
of pain and eventually a baby was plopped in my arms.”
“Knowing is one thing, but hearing it...” Jensen trailed off, his hands
constantly on the move, stroking over her arms, her back, her cheeks. He
glanced down at her, his eyes soft. “You’re the strongest, bravest, most
resilient woman I know. And today—you were phenomenal today. Mia is so
lucky to have you as a friend.”
A smile graced her face. “Is it weird that I enjoyed it?”
“Giving birth?”
“Delivering a baby. It’s like… I don’t know.” Talia paused as nerves
infused her, but she knew he would never judge her. “I almost feel like I’ve
found what I was meant to do.”
“I’m glad.” Jensen kissed her temple, his lips soft against her skin. “You
want to be a midwife?”
 “Maybe? But I’d need to go back to university to qualify, I know that
much. And university isn’t something I’d want to consider with Felix being
so young. The midwife actually thought I was a doula—when she finally
fucking arrived. I looked it up after we got back. A doula is effectively a
mother’s helper; someone to help and support the mother during the
childbirth.”
“Sounds like you’d be great at it.”
Talia agreed. “Plus it would be a good way to determine whether that
kind of work would actually suit me.” She hid an exuberant grin against
Jensen’s neck, suddenly realising why she’d been unable to sleep.
She was excited.
Talia knew deep inside that she’d found what she wanted to do for the
rest of her life. She knew how to make her mark on the world—and she was
itching to get started.

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 27

Talia

O noffice
her way into the mansion block, Talia stopped off at the concierge’s
to pick up the post for her and Mia. By now, the concierge didn’t
even bother to contact Mia to approve it. Either because Talia had done it
every day for the past fortnight or because he wanted to empty his office of
the plethora of congratulatory cards and gifts he’d had to sign for.
For once, Talia had more post than Mia; two large letters compared to
Mia’s single pink card. Excitement ruptured inside her chest before she
could stop it. Was this the letter that would tell her whether she’d been
accepted on a doula course?
She checked the clock on her way upstairs; it was around the time Mia
tried to get baby Lily down for a nap, so Talia decided to postpone handing
the card over. Instead, she raced upstairs, practically bouncing as she
walked through her own front door.
Jensen stood just in front of one of the large living room windows,
holding his phone to his ear. He glanced back as she entered, the bright
daylight silhouetting his broad figure. “Yep,” he rubbed the back of his
neck, letting out a weary sigh. Was that an American accent she could hear
on the other end of the call? “Look, can I call you back? I’ve got another
meeting I need to be in.”
Talia listened to him ending the call, guilt twinging a path up her spine.
All those months ago, she hadn’t realised just how much Dad pulling out of
their business deal would affect him. And here he was, still mopping up the
mess without a word of complaint.
“Rough day?” she asked after he put the phone down.
He shook his head, smiling through it all. “Not anymore. How was lunch
with Darcy?”
“Good,” Talia smiled. “She mentioned Dad might be popping round in a
bit, but this is more important.” She brandished the letters in front of him. “I
think one of these might be from the doula place. I recognise the address on
the back.”
Jensen’s expression lit up, his stress melting away.
She bit her lip to hide her grin, ripping the envelope open and yanking the
paper out. “Dear Miss Llewellyn,” she read. “Congratulations! We are
delighted to inform you that you have been accepte—”
He didn’t wait for the rest.
Talia laughed out a graceless squawk as Jensen hauled her into the air.
Letting the letters fall to the floor, she wrapped her arms and legs around his
body simultaneously. Excited giggles tumbled from her lips, scattering
around the room as he spun her in a circle.
“I knew they’d accept you,” he told her, his eyes glittering with fierce
pride.
That look softened her from the inside out, and Talia wanted to latch on
with both hands and keep it there forever. “Thank you,” she whispered, and
she meant it. For believing in her. For encouraging her. For protecting her.
For still being by her side after Dad had imploded his business plans. For
seeing her on that stage and bidding. For giving her Felix.
And for not forgetting her afterwards.
Jensen’s lips slid against hers in a soft kiss. “You did the work, baby girl.
I’m just honoured to be the man at your side.”
The excitement of being accepted onto the doula course had her floating
through the rest of the day with ease, but it wasn’t until she was tidying up
Felix’s toys that she remembered the other letter.
On her hands and knees, Talia caught sight of it poking out from beneath
the sofa—directly next to one of Felix’s missing socks. She snatched them
both up, the air in the flat thick with the aromatic blend of spices Jensen
was infusing their dinner with.
As he busied himself in the kitchen, she settled on the sofa and slit open
the envelope.
 It wasn’t a bill, like she thought it was.
It was… a collection of newspaper clippings, by the looks of it. What on
earth? She shuffled through them, a headline catching her eye. A photo of a
smiling older man was situated below it, next to one of a large, burnt-out
house cordoned off with police tape.

Sick Killers Tortured Victim

Two men have been found guilty of torturing and murdering

Graeme Friedman, 72, before setting his £1,500,000 Surrey
home alight. Friedman was rescued by firemen, but later
died in hospital.

The murderer, Jensen Stone, 26, and his accomplice, Rhys

Stone, 20, were captured on CCTV buying ten litres of petrol
from a nearby station before carrying out the sustained
attack. Graeme Friedman’s wife, Denise, 58, called her
husband’s killers ‘monsters’ after a jury found them guilty of
his murder yesterday.

Jurors heard how Friedman was terrorised for six hours,

being stripped, bound, beaten, and burned over a prolonged
period. Friedman was later handcuffed to a radiator before
being set alight.

James Simmons, Chief Crown Prosecutor, said: We are

thankful that the instigators of this brutal attack have been
brought to justice. The evil, senseless actions of these two
men have ripped the lives of the Friedman family apart.’

Talia stared at the news article, her ears ringing and her blood going cold.
There had to be a mistake. But then she shuffled to the next article—and
there his mugshot was. He was younger, but she’d know his face anywhere
by now.
 The burns. How many times had she seen those burns on his chest?
Hundreds.
She’d asked him about them once, back in New York. A world away.
What had he said?
“I was in a fight when I was a teenager.”
The articles shook in her hand, beginning to float softly to the floor. The
headlines blared back at her. EVIL.
A plain white piece of paper stood out behind the rest. It was the only one
that hadn’t been cut from a newspaper.
I thought you’d like to know what kind of man you’re trusting with your
child’s life.
There was no name attached, but Talia found she didn’t care. She glanced
up, her good mood extinguishing—swiftly replaced by fear. Jensen
remained oblivious, searing the chicken in the pan.
She swallowed, clenching the final piece of paper in her grip. The smell.
That spicy scent that had roused her stomach to life only minutes ago. Now
she felt sick.
Her gaze found Felix’s bedroom door, and she was glad he was safely
behind it.
Stripped, bound, beaten, and burned.
The hands that touched her had done that. The hands that had touched her
son had done that.
“You having cramps again?” Jensen’s voice made her jump. “You’re as
white as a ghost.”
If ever she felt like a deer frozen in the headlights, it was then. Talia
didn’t know what to say. This was a man who loved Felix more than his
own life—how could he be the same man who had committed such horrors?
She always wondered how she’d react in a stressful situation.
Flight. Fight. Fawn. Freeze.
Apparently her body had chosen the latter. She wouldn’t run, couldn’t
run, not with Felix in the next room. Her heartbeat was an audible throb in
her ears, even as she congealed with indecision.
But then Jensen stopped in his tracks, glaring at the newspaper clippings
scattered on the ground. “Where did you get those?”
“They were in the post,” she breathed.
Fury pulsed in his jaw, his nostrils flaring. “I can explain.”
If he could explain it away, they wouldn’t have convicted him of murder.
 Instead, she gave a frantic nod, doing her best to hide her fear.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured, his brows drawing together
sympathetically. He reached out to touch her, but she reared back. “Talia…”
“Is it true?” That was the only thing that mattered. Please say it’s not.
Please say it’s some horrible misunderstanding. You were wrongly
convicted. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just tell me we
can go back to being who we were before I opened this envelope.
After a moment, he bowed his head. “It’s true.”
Somewhere deep inside, Talia thought she heard her heart shatter.
“But I swear to you, on everything I hold dear, that he deserved it.”
“How can a man deserve to be burnt alive?”
“He…” Jensen cut himself off, swearing under his breath. He knelt before
her, the newspaper clippings crinkling beneath him. “Do you trust me?”
If he’d have asked ten minutes ago, she’d have answered without
question. Now, the silence that fell over them was so thick it was almost
tangible. Because she didn’t just have herself to think about; she had Felix.
It was her responsibility to keep Felix safe.
And how could she do that if she lived with a man with a track history of
torture and murder?
Exhaling, Jensen let his head hang in a defeated slump. The sight stirred
her pity, but then it snapped up again. “Euan knows,” he said abruptly, his
eyes full of hope. “Your father knows everything, Talia. And he still worked
with me. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
That caught her off guard. Dad knew about this? The same man who
refused to leave his shopping trolley anywhere other than neatly in line
inside one of the designated trolley corrals? That man was suddenly okay
with torture and murder?
The flat’s buzzer went off like a foghorn, making her jump a mile in the
air. Dad, Talia pleaded silently, quickly sidestepping Jensen and diving for
the button. Please let it be Dad. “Hello?”
“Hey cyw, just me.”
“Come up,” she said swiftly, slamming the button down so quickly her
finger almost snapped.
Behind her, Jensen hadn’t moved. He knelt on the floor still, a saddened
cast over him as he shifted from the newspaper clippings to her,
Saddened, but not regretful.
 Talia threw the front door open before her father finished knocking, one
hand still upraised, midway through rapping his knuckles on the wood. The
other clutched a large gift box covered in robot wrapping paper. She
beckoned him in.
Perhaps he sensed something was off with her, because before he’d
finished stepping through the doorway he fixed Jensen with an accusatory
glare. “I came round to drop off something for Reggie’s birthday next week,
but…” Dad set the gift down, edging closer to her. “What’s he done, cyw?”
“Graeme Friedman.” Jensen spoke before she had a chance, standing to
his full height.
Talia didn’t know what kind of reaction she’d been expecting from her
father, but it wasn’t a long, steady exhale, nor the same type of sorrowful
glance Jensen had directed at her earlier.
“Ah,” was all Dad said.
And somehow the room shifted. A second ago Dad had been on her side,
but now the two of them were looking down at her with identical
expressions on their faces.
As though she was the outsider.
“Aren’t either of you going to say anything?” Her gaze whipped across
the room, and the longer it went on the more she felt like she was losing her
mind. Was it really so unthinkable that she was ever-so-slightly disturbed by
the fact her child’s father was a murderer?
Jensen took a slow, measured step towards her, as though he was fearful
any sudden movement would have her taking flight. “It’s not as black-and-
white as it seems, Talia.”
She pointed at the newspaper clippings. “Is any part of that untrue?”
“No,” he admitted. “But there are things left unsaid.”
“Then say them.”
Jensen’s throat bobbed in a thick swallow. “I promised I wouldn’t.”
Promised who?
Dad’s hand landed on her shoulder, his brow furrowed. “Nattie,
sweetheart, I understand why you’re concerned, but there’s more to the
story than the murder. As much as I don’t like the two of you being
together, I truly believe Jensen poses you no harm. I trust him—with you
and with Felix.”
Relief settled her shoulders, easing the muscles that had been locked up
tight. Talia trusted her father’s judgement, even if they were sidestepping
the issue. “Then… why didn’t you tell me, Jensen? Isn’t this something I
deserved to know?”
“I didn’t tell you because…” Jensen gave her a helpless look, sinking his
hands into his hair. “Because I can’t tell you everything without hurting the
people I love.”
Her eyes fluttered. “But I thought you loved me too.”
Dad turned away to clear his throat, but Jensen came closer, his hand
coming out to cup her cheek. “You know I do.”
Talia wanted to lean into it desperately, to blindly trust her father’s word
that Jensen wasn’t a danger.
But right now she felt like a child, coddled by the adults in the room. Like
she was… beneath them.
“Then stop making decisions for me,” she whispered. “Both of you.
You’re treating me like I can’t be trusted to know what happened, like I
don’t have a functioning brain. Neither of you thought at any point over the
last few months that I should know that you killed and tortured a man,
Jensen. You were sent to prison for murder, for fuck’s sake.”
Dad’s head whipped round, his eyes wide with shock. Was this the first
time he’d heard her swear? Probably.
“Stop treating me like a child.” Talia’s voice was bitter. “Until the two of
you stop keeping secrets from me, I don’t want you here. You either tell me
the whole story or you leave.”
Dad was the first to go, a stab of pain reverberating through her chest.
“I’ll speak to you soon, Nattie. I promise. Love you, cyw.”
She watched him go, her sadness growing with his every step. She’d
expected at least one of them to treat her like an adult, to let her in on what
happened.
When Dad was gone, Jensen stepped towards her. “Talia…”
Tell me. Please tell me the full story. Treat me like an adult, like an equal,
like the mother of your child.
Instead, he shook his head. “If I was free to tell you everything, I would.
But I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Then go home, Jensen.”
He gave her a dejected smile before disappearing through the door. “You
are my home.”

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 28

Talia

T alia didn’t know what was worse; the fact that it had been two days since
she’d heard from Jensen, or the fact that she kept checking for incoming
messages.
She put the phone down, as disappointed as ever. The longer it went on, the
more doubt crept in. Was this really going to be her hill to die on? If Dad
knew everything and had still been happy to work with Jensen, then there
were clearly some extenuating circumstances floating about…
But why did he get to know? And why was she being left in the dark?
Felix made it all the harder. He’d gone from living in their happy little
family unit to waking up from his nap to find Jensen had disappeared… and
hadn’t returned.
I can’t do this to him. I can’t just kick his Dadda out and not expect him to
be affected by it.
Her conviction was crumbling before her eyes. She’d been furious at Dad
and Jensen for treating her like a child, but then she’d turned around and
behaved like one—and had a tantrum when she didn’t get her way.
Talia felt like she was waking up in Lux without him again, except this
time she’d done it to herself. The flat was empty, her bed was cold, and her
heart was aching.
She picked up her phone, her lips tugging into a melancholy smile. The last
message Jensen had sent to her was a photo of Felix in the bath wearing a
bubble beard. Talia tapped out an apology, but quickly deleted it, listening to
the sound of a motorbike outside.
Texting him would be taking the coward’s way out.
Instead, she took a deep breath and hit the call button.
It barely rang once. “Talia?” Jensen’s voice came through instantly—along
with a barrage of background noise that suggested he was driving. “Are you
and Felix okay? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Felix is fine. I just put him down for his
afternoon nap, but I wanted to talk to you. Needed to talk to you. Are you
alone?” The last thing she wanted to do was pour her heart out to him with an
audience.
“I’m alone. Just heading back home after viewing some commercial
property in Southampton.”
“At rush hour?” Talia let out a soft laugh, her gaze lifting to the clock.
“You’ll be lucky to get home before midnight.” Perhaps a bit of an
exaggeration.
“I should have been back by now but…” Jensen trailed off, letting out a
weary sigh that she felt in her bones. “Everything took longer than it should
have. What did you need to talk about?”
“Your murder conviction.” Talia decided to be truthful. “I was hurt by you
not telling me about your past. Learning that you were in prison at all came as
a shock, I’m not going to lie to you.”
Once she started, every thought she’d had over the last couple of days came
tumbling out.
“That is one thing I will concede. I shouldn’t have had to learn about your
criminal convictions from a letter, Jensen. You should have been the one to
tell me.”
“You’re right, I should have been. I’m sorry for that, Talia.”
“Then why didn’t you?” she asked, a bit of desperation in her voice.
Talia could almost hear his shrug. “I intended to, but things kept coming
up. Our first night alone in weeks. Felix’s birthday. Mia going into labour.
The time was never right, and then it was too late altogether. I didn’t want
you to end things between us. I was a coward.”
“Would you have ever told me on your own?”
“Yes,” he replied fiercely, a distant beep from a car horn coming through
the phone. “But I would have had to… discuss it with the people involved
first. I will discuss it with the people involved first.”
Talia frowned, remembering the news articles. “You mean Rhys?”
 “Rhys included.”
What did that mean? Knowing her questions would go unanswered, she
carried on. “I don’t regret being angry at you not telling me. In fact, I still am
angry at you for not telling me. But I do regret telling you to leave. I regret
making a decision in the heat of the moment.” If she’d known he had been in
prison at all, then maybe the rest wouldn’t have been such a shock, but there
was no changing that now. “I want you to… I want you to come home,
Jensen. Felix misses you. I miss you.”
His words came in a rush. “Fuck, I miss you too. I miss you both so
fucking much, baby girl. I have to stop at Aldous’s flat first, but I’ll be there.”
A relieved chuff came over the phone. “Even if I have to abandon my car in a
queue on the M25 and run home, I’ll be there.”
The worry that had been her constant companion over the last couple of
days disappeared, coming out in a rush of excitement. “I can’t wait to see
you.”
The conversation soon turned into an update on Felix—what sounds he’d
been learning to say, what baby groups they’d attended, even what he’d eaten
over the last couple of days. All of the miniscule things that only a parent
would care about.
When their call finally ended, Talia set about preparing the kitchen. She
wasn’t usually the type to have a hot meal ready for her partner the moment
he came through the door. With her, it would definitely be hot, but also most
likely charred.
However, she wanted to try and cook Jensen’s favourite meal for him. Not
as an apology, per se. More of a we both could have behaved better but I still
love you so let’s move on type of meal.
She settled on a simplified beef pho recipe—something she could leave to
simmer.
Just as the thought struck, Talia heard Felix babbling. Leaving the pile of
ingredients she’d accumulated behind, she strode over to his bedroom to see
him standing in the cot. His face was bright and alert, as though he’d been
awake for a while.
“Hey cyw,” she said excitedly, hoisting him onto her hip. God, he was
going to be so happy to see Jensen. “Did you have a good nap?”
“Ba,” he nodded, his dark hair sticking up at odd angles.
Before smoothing it back down, Talia took a quick selfie of the two of them
and sent it to Jensen.
 Love you x

Just as Talia hit send, the two of them turned at the sound of the buzzer.
“Who on earth is that?” Talia muttered, poking her tongue out at Felix as
she pressed the button to answer. “Hello?”
“Talia, it’s Aldous.” Beneath Felix’s giggles, the timbre of his voice was
rough. “Can we talk?”
“Oh,” she answered, giving her son a bewildered look. What did Aldous
want to talk to her about? “Sure. Er… come up."
His knock came so quick Talia wondered whether it was Mia popping by,
but she opened the door to reveal Aldous, wearing a frown and a standoffish
expression. She welcomed him in, smiling as Felix reached a hand out,
clearly excited to see someone other than Talia.
There was a beat before Aldous reciprocated, letting Felix’s tiny hand wrap
around his fingers. “Hey Felix.”
“Ba!” Felix yelled.
Aldous’s smile was tight with tension, but the set of his shoulders was even
tighter.
Talia moved to sit on the sofa, inviting Aldous to do the same. “Are you all
right?” she asked, nursing a feeling she was about to be lectured. “You look a
little… nervous.”
“I’m fine,” he replied, far too quickly to have been genuine. “But Jensen
isn’t.”
“Because of our argument, or because of something else?” Please let it be
the former.
“Your argument.”
Talia had the grace to look guilty, even if her concern over him hiding a
murder conviction was warranted. “I actually just got off the phone with him.
We both apologised, but he’s coming back here tonight.”
Surprise sparked in Aldous’s eyes, relief following shortly after. “Good.”
“Was that what you wanted to discuss?”
His head tilted a degree. “Indirectly.” Aldous looked away from her, his
nostrils flaring as he sharply inhaled. “I don’t want you to doubt Jensen. I
don’t want you to have this unknown in your relationship.”
Talia spoke softly. “The unknown being…?”
“Why Jensen and Rhys tortured and murdered Graeme Friedman.”
 “But you weren’t involved in that, were you?” He would have been a child
at the time.
Aldous’s grimace was a hateful, distorted thing. “I was the reason they did
it in the first place.”
Talia watched as Felix climbed to the floor, apparently bored of their
conversation. He pulled a brightly-painted wooden puzzle towards himself.
“Meaning?”
Aldous still hadn’t looked at her. “When I was eight, I was accepted into
private school on a scholarship, did you know that?”
She shook her head.
“Graeme Friedman was the headmaster there. He had a reputation for being
strict. Rigid. Old school. But he ran a remedial after-school programme for
struggling scholarship students. A programme he ran personally, on a one-to-
one basis.”
“And you ended up on the programme?” Talia gathered.
“For five years.” Aldous’s gaze was bathed in shadow. “And during my
time with him…” The bump on his throat hitched, his voice grating. He
stood, throwing a look at Felix before his hands went to the buttons on his
shirt, slowly unhooking each one.
Talia got to her feet, alarmed. “What are you doing?” she whispered,
stepping back towards Felix.
“I could talk about what he did to me.” Aldous paused, his expression one
of pity. “Or I could show you. The latter is much easier than the former.”
She nodded, ready to pick up her son and flee at a moment’s notice.
But then Aldous’s broad shoulders shrugged off his shirt—and Talia’s gut
gave a sickening clench.
His tawny skin was a litany of scars; a patchwork quilt of silvery burns that
spanned from his muscular shoulders to his belt. Some were circular, little
dots of savagery that were uniform in shape and size. Were they cigarette
burns? Others were long and straight. Those were far deeper, far more
painful.
“Your… your headmaster did this to you?” Talia whispered, her hand over
her mouth.
Finally, his eyes fixed on her. “And worse.”
Graeme Friedman. The name had scarcely left her mind for days, and
throughout it all she’d thought of him as a victim, but now…
Now, she thought of him as a monster. “It was revenge, then?”
 Aldous nodded, his gaze drifting away once more. “Everything Jensen and
Rhys did to him, he did to me. Almost.”
“Except for the actual murder?”
“The murder was a substitute for the one thing they didn’t have the
stomach to do to him.” Aldous’s eyes were almost devoid of emotion, as
though he was a million miles away.
The blood drained from Talia’s face in a great rush, her mind terrorising her
with the unknown.
Aldous buttoned his shirt back up, observing Felix toddling over to him,
step by step. “I don’t like people knowing. It’s humiliating.” He pulled out a
crumpled envelope from inside his trouser pocket. “But if you want to read
newspaper articles, those are all the newspaper articles about the retrial. They
go into more detail about Friedman’s crimes, if you’re interested.”
Talia wasn’t.
And she’d been pushing for Jensen to tell her what happened…
No wonder he’d looked so conflicted by it all.
Aldous flinched as Felix hugged the bottom of his calf, reaching upwards
in a request to be held. Seconds passed with Aldous standing stock still, but
just as Talia thought Felix was going to give up Aldous moved, gently lifting
Felix into his embrace. He held him away from his body slightly, but Felix
leant his head on Aldous’s biceps, smiling up at him. “Jensen knows how I
feel about it all. He was never going to tell you what Friedman did to me, but
I can’t let my past impact his future. He’s sacrificed too much for me already.
And I don’t want you to think any less of him for what he did. He loves you,
Talia, and he deserves to be happy.”
She wanted to move closer, to give Aldous the biggest hug she could give,
but something told her he’d step away from her if she tried. “I’ll make him
happy,” she swore. “I promise.”

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 29

Talia

I nafternoon,
Talia’s opinion, London was best experienced on a late summer’s
or not experienced at all.
There was no substitute, no surrogate. The sun may have scorched the
grass a dull yellowish brown, but there was a magic to this late afternoon,
early evening lull. People were home from work, but there were plenty of
daylight hours left. Temperatures that had sent people darting for cover
during the day were now dipping into a pleasant warmth.
No doubt parks throughout the city were packed with people like herself;
in a good mood, making the most of the summer. The air was thick with the
scent of barbecues, and the outdoor seating for every café and ice cream
shop was full to the brim—second only to the number of people swarming
the beer gardens.
Her hands guiding Felix’s pushchair, she strolled through the gardens
beside Victoria Embankment, amongst the Londoners basking on the
parched grass, feeling lighter than she had in months. Aldous’s visit had left
her horrified, but now she understood Jensen’s situation. The position she’d
put him in.
And the more she thought about it, the more she understood Jensen’s
character.
That night at Lux, the first time they’d met, what had Jensen done?
 He’d seen her on stage, doing her best to be brave. He could have done
nothing—it wasn’t like he owed her anything. They were strangers.
Instead, he ensured he won the auction, even when the price became
outrageous. Then he paid it, met her to verify that she was okay, and went to
leave.
At the wedding, when Dad had given him a black eye, he didn’t fight
back.
At the nightclub, when Quinn had her cornered, Jensen took command of
the situation without question, delivering her safely to her bed. And then
he’d watched a tutorial about how to do my hair.
The memory walked through the park with her, making her smile.
Jensen was a protector—he always had been. There was no one better to
have at her side, and certainly no better man to father her children.
Felix reached out to a large rose as they passed, and Talia came to a
standstill to let his fingers graze along the blushing petals. She positioned
the pushchair on the edge of the path before coming to kneel in front of
him.
He’d taken up a new habit recently; if he could pick something up, it was
going in his mouth.
The laces of Talia’s trainers? In his mouth. The plastic googly eye she’d
put on her robot hoover? In his mouth. The book she’d been reading? In his
mouth.
According to Kate, Lucie had gone through this as she approached the
teething stage, and Talia was glad Felix grew out of breastfeeding when he
did. The little bugger had been downright savage during feeds sometimes,
and that was without teeth.
Not that her milk supply had dried up entirely. She could still produce a
few drops here and there… as Jensen had discovered.
Talia held the wheels of the pushchair down as someone jostled it
walking past. Hmm. Maybe stopping in a busy path wasn’t the best idea.
“Do you like the rose, cyw?”
Felix nodded enthusiastically, patting it like a dog. “Ba!”
She grinned, getting back up to continue their wander through the park.
Perhaps they could get a potted one for the flat. Were thornless roses a
thing?
On the other hand, roses were delicate. And one-year-olds were not
known for their finesse. Maybe an artificial rose would be better.
 Talia had a smile on her face the entire way home. The sun was shining,
Jensen would be home in an hour or two, and the pho she’d made him
would be simmering away in the slow cooker.
Had she ever been happier? She doubted it.
Arriving at the mansion block’s front door, Talia rummaged around in the
changing bag swinging from the pushchair’s handles. She usually kept her
phone in a small, purpose-built slot near the zipper, but it wasn’t there.
She pressed her lips together in a flat, unamused line, hoping it hadn’t
fallen in with the dirty nappies again. For god’s sake, it’s probably still on
the counter like last time, she thought, scanning her little key card instead.
Talia scanned her key card again at her front door, navigating through
with the pushchair and parking it in its usual position. A quick look at the
counter told her that her phone wasn’t on there, annoyingly. Definitely in
with the dirty nappies. Thankfully, the slow cooker was in its expected
position. The smell of the pho drifted through the flat, teasing her hungry
stomach. Jensen can’t get here quick enough.
If he didn’t, he might come home to an empty slow cooker and a Talia
that needed to be rolled to bed.
And speaking of sleep…
Talia’s lips curved as she unclipped her sleeping son from his pushchair,
carefully gathering him in her arms and putting him down for his nap.
Leaning on the side of the cot, a sigh glided through her lungs. With every
day that passed he looked less like a baby and more like a child, and she
loved it and hated it in equal measure.
She loved getting to know who Felix was—who he was going to be, but
it meant that the tiny baby he’d once been was getting further and further
away. That was what motherhood seemed to be, she’d learnt. A helpless
struggle to treasure every moment, and then just as she found her footing in
one stage it all changed again.
Just as she’d mastered crawling, he started walking.
Just as she’d got a nighttime routine underway, it was time to drop one of
his naps.
Just as she mastered breastfeeding, it was time to wean.
Motherhood was chaos, and it was wonderful.
Talia closed Felix’s bedroom door behind her, but when she turned back
to face the living room, her blood turned to ice.
There her phone was, innocently sitting on the kitchen counter.
 And next to it stood Quinn, but there was no innocence there. His face
was a mask of cold determination, the set of his broad shoulders firm. And
was that a half-healed black eye? “Talia.”
Every instinct cried out for her to retreat, to go back into Felix’s bedroom
and shield him. Memories assailed her, every heartbeat driving them deeper
into her psyche. Flashes of whatever had happened at Celestial that night.
The chill of the evening biting into her upper thigh. Her skull cracking
against the brick. The relief that Jensen’s voice had brought.
He stole my phone and used it to get into the flat.
Had he shadowed her tracks as she entered the building? Or had he
already been lying in wait for her?
The first step forward was the hardest, breaking through the fear freezing
her in place.
“Did you get my letter?” he asked, those empty black eyes tracking her
every move—as they always did.
And he sent that letter. Because of course he did. She’d been so caught up
in what Jensen had done that she didn’t spare a thought for how the
knowledge made its way to her. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
A smile of disbelief stretched the bottom of his face as he shook his head.
He snatched up her phone, tapping in the code she didn’t know he knew and
holding it up for her to see. “Then why the fuck did you send him a message
this afternoon telling him you loved him?”
Talia watched as her plan to avoid antagonising him slipped through her
fingers. She pointed at her front door, trying to hide how much she was
shaking. “What I do is no concern of yours. Leave. Or I’ll call the police.”
“Will you?” Quinn’s head tilted to the side, one eyebrow lifting. He
reached over to the window next to him, wrenching the handle upright to
unlock it.
And then she realised what he intended to do. “No,” she whispered, the
ramifications of that action thundering through her veins. Because without
her phone, she was cut off from the outside world, and if she was cut off
from the outside world…
Then Quinn could do what he wanted to her.
Adrenaline overtook fear for the first time as she ran forward, watching
him dangle her phone out of the window—
Before he let it go and slammed the window shut, right before her
momentum threw her against him.
 Quinn was ready for it, wrenching her around like a ragdoll. She’d known
he worked out. She’d known he was strong. But having his strength used
against her was something she was wholly unprepared for.
She didn’t stand a chance.
Talia tried to detach herself from his grip, but he brushed off her attempts
with terrifying ease. His arm locked around her waist, tugging her back to
his front and pinning her arms to her sides, until all she could do was madly
kick out.
“You’re just like my mom,” he snarled. “A fucking idiot.”
Talia shrieked as his free hand found purchase in her hair. He kicked her
legs out from under her, but the aching pain in her shin was nothing
compared to the teeth-rattling agony of her forehead bouncing off the floor.
Felix.
His distant cries in her ears were the only thing that kept her clinging to
the edge of consciousness. Stars burst in her vision, but when they cleared
Talia realised Quinn had rolled her onto her back, and his hands…
“Stop,” she pleaded, locking her knees together as he attempted to shove
them apart. Her light summer skirt had been turned up. Why couldn’t she
have worn jeans today? “Please stop, please.”
She had a feeling it wouldn’t have mattered either way. Pain gouged into
her as Quinn’s fingers dug into the soft skin above her knee, until she was
crying out in anguish.
“You let a murderer fuck you.” Talia gave a choked gasp as his hands cut
off her airway. She tried to shove Quinn away, but her arms fell woefully
short of reaching him. “Why is this any different? I helped you for months.
I cared for you for months. And I get nothing. You had your chance, and
you chose to be a worthless fucking whore. And if you choose to act like a
whore, then I’ll treat you like one.”
The mention of Jensen was a vice around her heart. When they’d said
goodbye earlier, it hadn’t been for the last time, had it? There was so much
more she wanted to say. She needed to see him again, to tell him how much
she loved him. Her lungs were on fire with the need to inhale, but there was
nothing she could do. The pressure in her head began to build, until it was
splintering out in all directions. It pounded in her ears, drowning out
Quinn’s voice and Felix’s cries both. In the crushing silence that remained,
Talia accepted that this was it.
 This was how she was going to die. Darkness and terror warred at the
edge of her vision, and she fought with every ounce of strength remaining
to her.
It wasn’t enough.
As the shadows rushed her, Talia’s last thought was of Felix. How his
face had lit up at seeing the rose earlier. How much he looked like Jensen.
How she was going to miss him growing up. How he was so young he
wouldn’t even remember her.
How this would be the last day he’d have his mother. How he was going
to be locked in here with her corpse. How he would be at Quinn’s mercy
after she was gone.
And how there was nothing she could do to stop it.
I’m sorry, cyw.

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 30

Jensen

T heas hebright flare of yet another speed camera momentarily blinded Jensen
clung to Aldous’s back. Beneath them, the motorbike roared,
cutting through the traffic between them and Talia.
Jensen had barely crossed the threshold of Aldous’s flat when the face
recognition alarm had gone off, but rush hour meant that the roads were
rammed, cars sitting bumper to bumper in long, unbroken lines. He’d been
dialling the police when Aldous told him to get on his motorbike.
A storm of fury raged around him as they soared down Piccadilly like a
speeding bullet. Jensen had never been on a motorbike before—let alone
without a helmet and wearing nothing but his fucking suit, but at the
moment he had no care for his own safety.
Only hers.
Aldous took them down a small alleyway. The thunder of the engine was
magnified tenfold, but then the mansion block was in sight. His phone
continued to blast out its alarm, leaving him with the fact that Quinn had
broken into Talia’s flat—that something was happening.
Jensen could only hope he wasn’t too late.
He was sure Aldous was going to overshoot the front door, but his cousin
waited until the last second to brake. The sudden motion sent Jensen’s body
careening forward, and he narrowly avoided headbutting the back of
Aldous’s helmet.
 Dismounting, he just about waited for the sensor to open the front door
before crashing through it. The door swung inwards so violently he heard
the glass crack in its frame, but Jensen didn’t stop.
The elevator was on the ground floor, thank fucking Christ. He slammed
into it, thumping the button for the sixth floor, ignoring a shout from down
the corridor to the concierge’s office. A second before the doors closed,
Aldous slipped through.
The ride up was mercifully short, and excruciatingly long. Then they
were on the move again. Jensen narrowly dodged an old woman coming out
of her flat, but soon he and Aldous were at Talia’s door.
Terror filled him at what he’d find behind it. Then he burst through—and
he saw her.
With a furious roar, Jensen launched himself at Quinn. The bastard turned
at the sound, his eyes wide with alarm. He moved to defend himself, but
Jensen was quicker, wrenching him away from Talia as Aldous went to his
knees next to her, checking her pulse and pulling her skirts back down at the
same time.
Her skirts.
Dread burnt an agonised path across his chest. The thought of him hurting
Talia at all was horrific. The thought of him hurting her like that?
It was torture.
Quinn let out an audible huff as he landed a few feet away, but Jensen
was on him before he could inhale. He fastened his hands around Quinn’s
throat, taking the time to dig his knee into Quinn’s ribs until he heard a
crack.
“I should have killed you the first time I had the chance,” Jensen snarled,
savouring Quinn’s agonised groan as another crack sounded. He wanted to
kill him—intended to kill him. But…
If I kill Quinn, I won’t see my son grow up.
That fact cut through Jensen’s frenzied anger. “Fuck.” He pushed up off
Quinn’s battered ribcage, ignoring the harrowing whine coming from the
man beneath him.
Because just behind him came a deep, feminine cough. Talia.
Jensen shoved Quinn inside the bathroom, locking him in from the
outside before hurtling to Talia’s side. Aldous was already there, clutching
her hand and whispering softly to her.
 “Talia.” Jensen’s knees hit the floor so hard the impact jarred his teeth.
“You’re alive. We’re here, baby girl. You’re alive.”
She reached for him, her grip featherlight. “Jay.”
He winced at how hoarse her voice was. Murderous thoughts thundered
through him, but the thought of abandoning Talia and Felix…
Revenge wasn’t worth it. He knew that better than most.
“Go and comfort Felix, Aldous. But don’t bring him in here. Not yet.”
Jensen cast his gaze over her body, but other than the glaring red band on
her neck he couldn’t see any injuries. Anger stiffened his jaw. “Where did
he hurt you?” Tell me what he did to you. “Tell me how I can make it
better.”
Talia’s movement was so subtle he almost missed it. The shake of her
head couldn’t have spanned more than a couple of millimetres. She lifted
her hand to touch her throat. “My head. My neck. That’s all.”
Relief slammed his eyes shut as it shuddered through him.
As Felix’s crying diminished, Jensen heard sirens downstairs. Living in
London, they were almost ubiquitous, but they should have moved on by
now—even in rush hour traffic.
His suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later, when two police
officers knocked on the open door; the security company had detected an
attack. Paramedics weren’t far behind, recommending that Talia should be
taken to hospital to have her head and neck scanned to identify the extent of
her injuries.
“Mr Stone?” one of the police officers eventually asked, just as they were
about to take Talia to the ambulance. “We’d like you to come down to the
police station for an interview under caution.”
His hackles immediately raised. An interview under caution was
voluntary—but only in the sense that if a person refused then they could be
arrested and brought to the police station anyway. His focus moved from
Talia to Aldous before he nodded. “Fine,” he spat, only keeping the anger
out of his voice because Felix was in his arms.
Talia’s head lifted as he approached her, and he couldn’t help noticing the
broken blood vessels at the bottom of her eyes. My sweet baby girl.
“I need to go down to the police station to help them figure out what
happened,” he murmured to her, putting Felix in her lap. “Aldous is going
to look after you and Felix while I’m gone, okay?”
“What?” Her rasp was almost inaudible. “You’re leaving?”
 “Not by choice. But I’ll be as quick as I can,” he promised, his stomach
sinking like a stone. He didn’t exactly have a clean record to help things
along. He was a convicted murderer; if they wanted to pin something on
him, all they had to do was show the judge his history. “I love you.”
A glassy sheen built along her lower eyelid. “I love you.”
Jensen kissed her, feeling a tear escape down her cheek. “Everything will
be okay,” he lied, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head.
With a deep frown, Aldous leant next to the front door as a police officer
escorted Jensen out. “Call the lawyers, then get Euan to meet you at the
hospital. Look after Talia and Felix until I get out.”
Aldous’s mouth pressed into a firm line. “I swear.”
Giving a single nod, he allowed himself to be marched out of the door.
For however long that may be.

The security cameras were his saving grace.

They’d captured everything, from Quinn letting himself into Talia’s flat
half an hour before she got home to the moment the police officers arrived.
Jensen forced himself to watch everything, especially the assault.
If Talia had gone through it, then he could watch it.
An anguished gasp burst from his lungs when he watched Quinn
launching his attack on Talia. Jensen saw what he’d missed in the moment;
Quinn’s hands fumbling with his zipper, right as he and Aldous burst into
the room.
Quinn hadn’t forced himself on her, but he was about to.
The sight had made Jensen sick, but his solicitor said it meant Quinn was
facing a lengthier prison sentence. And the strangulation? It didn’t matter
whether Quinn had intended to merely assault her or assault and then kill
her. He’d signed his own warrant the moment he touched her neck—
because it meant his sentence would be lengthier still.
Best of all, because the police could see Jensen had used reasonable force
in subduing Quinn, he was free to go.
It was morning by the time Jensen walked out of the police station. The
sky overhead was clear, providing little in the way of coverage from the
rising heat. Even at this hour, he could see smartly-dressed people starting
their day, their faces lined with exhaustion and their hands full of
caffeinated drinks.
He moved with purpose, making his way down to the car park he’d told
Aldous to pick him up in. Splotches of chewing gum were flattened on the
pavement in different stages of decay, but Jensen tried to avoid anything
that looked particularly fresh. Now he was out of the police station, he
could finally check the mass of messages that had poured in overnight.
Aldous, Rhys, Alison, Warren, Kate, Darcy, Mia; the texts were endless,
from Aldous giving him hourly updates on Talia’s condition to Mia
thanking him for protecting her friend.
Jensen scanned the car park as he approached, but the sleek grey saloon
car he landed on wasn’t the vehicle he’d expected to see. The woman
standing in front of it was even more of a shock.
Their eyes locked, and Jensen bridged the gap between them. His hands
brushed her waist, securing her just in case she fell. “Talia.” She was
supposed to be in hospital, but as she tightened her hold around his neck
Jensen couldn’t think of anything other than, “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
“They let you out.” She sucked in a breath amidst a sea of sobs. The
hoarseness of her voice was painful to hear. “I was terrified they were going
to arrest you.”
Jensen shook his head. “I was always going to come home to you. How is
your neck? And your head?” The recording of Talia’s skull slamming into
the floor was something he would never forget.
“All the tests came back clear. No bruising or bleeding on the brain. My
neck is clear too.” He’d known that from Aldous’s texts, but hearing it
directly from her lips was a relief. “They kept me in overnight, but
discharged me about an hour ago.”
He wanted to know more, to ask any of the thousand questions filling his
brain, but he didn’t want her to strain her voice.
The driver door opened. Euan stepped out, his grey hair messier than
Jensen had ever seen it and maroon blemishes of exhaustion beneath his
eyes. “We should get back,” he told Talia. “Alison says Felix has woken up;
he’s looking for you.”
Keeping his hand around her waist, Jensen gave her a nod. “Your dad’s
right. I don’t want you standing for longer than you need to be.” He opened
the passenger door for her, gesturing inwards.
 Talia complied, trying to hide her yawn as he shut her door—leaving him
alone with Euan, separated by the car between them.
Jensen went to open the door directly behind Talia, but Euan interrupted,
walking round to speak to him face-to-face. “We need to talk.”
After the last twenty-four hours, his manners were shot. “Then talk.”
As Euan approached, Jensen expected him to stop. To his shock, Euan
enveloped his arms around his shoulders, squeezing tight. “Thank you.” His
voice was gruff, almost as hoarse as Talia’s. “Thank you for saving her. You
have no idea—” Euan wrenched away whatever he’d been about to say,
shaking his head. “Thank you.”
He pulled back to look Euan in the eye. “They’re my everything.”
Euan’s shoulders rose as he took a heavy breath. “Good,” he said simply.
There was a hint of a smile, the first sign of his old friend to appear in
months. “Mine too.”

OceanofPDF.com
 31

Talia

W ith a bittersweet sigh, Talia glanced around the flat she’d once called
home. The last box was stationed by the front door, today’s post
haphazardly thrown on top. The letters were utilities confirming she’d
changed her address, but there was a parcel of study materials for her
upcoming doula course too. Those had sent a whisper of excitement curling
in her chest, almost hidden beneath the emotions of the day.
It was strange to see her flat like this. Every step echoed. Every room
looked twice as big. But with all the furniture stripped away, memories
appeared. The chunk she’d taken out of the wall trying to put Felix’s cot up
by herself. The scratches on the skirting board where she’d parked the
pushchair every day. The holes where the security cameras had been
screwed in. The patch on the wall where she’d accidentally scrubbed off the
paint trying to remove an oil stain.
The section of the floor her head had slammed into during Quinn’s attack.
She’d had a life here, but it was time to move on.
Jensen opened the front door, faint concern etched across his brow. He
hadn’t said it, but she knew he’d been worried about her being here.
For the first couple of weeks after the attack, she avoided coming back.
She’d needed to heal her physical injuries first, but now the only sign of
what happened was the faint bruising on her inner thighs.
 Crossing the room, Jensen slipped his arms around her waist from behind.
“I’m ready when you are.”
She leant back against his chest, letting him take some of the weight off
her shoulders. With him there, it didn’t take long to make her decision. “I’m
ready.”
From the moment she’d decided to move to Jensen’s flat permanently,
she hadn’t had to lift a finger. The movers had done it all, packing, moving,
and then unpacking with alarming efficiency. All while she had been
sequestered away with Kate and Mia at Jensen’s flat, under strict
instructions to rest and avoid unnecessary stress.
Given those instructions, Talia had set up a subletting agreement with
Mia for a peppercorn rent. Talia didn’t want to sell the flat—it was an
investment for Felix’s future, and she’d paid in cash—but she didn’t want to
be responsible for it either. It hadn’t taken long for Mia to find a tenant, and
the extra cash would allow Mia to live more comfortably as a single parent
to Reggie and Lily.
Today, though, the last box was Talia’s to carry out—and, as she walked
up to Jensen’s Mayfair flat, hers to take in.
The distant sound of Felix laughing welcomed her home.
She set the box down on top of the shoe rack, populated with a charming
array of her shoes and Jensen’s—as well as a couple of pairs of Felix’s tiny
ones.
Jensen’s flat was far bigger than her own, generously spread over three
floors and within tripping distance of Hyde Park. That had been a novelty
for her. She’d been used to trudging up and down Piccadilly to reach it, but
now it was on her doorstep.
The biggest advantage, however, was the garden.
Alison turned as they entered it, her cheeks flushed crimson with
merriment. Soap bubbles swirled around them, resting on everything from
leaves to the windowsills to the sun lounger Alison reclined on. In the
middle of the garden, Felix, Darcy, and Dad sat in the paddling pool, the
latter holding up an enormous bubble blaster.
“Again?” Dad asked.
“Ba!” Felix clapped.
He pulled the trigger. An avalanche of bubbles poured out, a thousand
iridescent spheres showcasing every colour of the rainbow. Clouds of
bubbles filled the garden, coating everything in sight.
 With a delighted shout, Felix shot his hands up in the air, grabbing
indiscriminately.
As the two of them watched, Jensen’s hands made their way round her
waist again, settling over her stomach. He kissed the top of her head. “We
made that.”
Talia turned to face him, meeting his sapphire gaze head-on. There was
heat there, but his happiness positively glittered. “Yes, we did.”

Talia looked up as she unrolled the enormous new play mat Darcy had
bought for Felix. Her old one had been dwarfed by Jensen’s flat. “Left a
bit.”
“There?”
“Perfect.” The framed photo was taking pride of place in their living
room. The other photos from the photoshoot were dotted around the flat, but
this one was easily hers and Jensen’s favourite. Felix had broken away to
walk towards the photographer, leaving her and Jensen to share a tender
look behind him.
The photoshoot had been part of Dad and Alison’s housewarming gift to
them, and Talia had loved it.
Jensen picked up the drill, cleaning up the dust that had collected in a
small pile beneath him.
Sitting on the floor, she gave him a sly glance as he went to leave. “Not
getting Tarik to install another security system?”
His lips tightened with something that might have been guilt. “I already
had him install one when I first moved in, but I’ll connect it to your phone.
Then we can both have access to it.”
“Again,” she said pointedly, leaning back on her hands, her legs stretched
out in front of her.
Jensen’s eyes locked with hers, giving her a searching glance. He dipped
his head, the corner of his lips hitching up in a self-deprecating smile. “How
long have you known?”
“Since it installed an update and started displaying how many people
were viewing a particular camera feed,” she revealed smugly.
 He winced, his gaze overcome with sheepishness. “How long ago was
that?”
Talia thought back. “Day after I went to Celestial, maybe? I had a phone
holder stuck on the wall tiles so I could keep an eye on Felix whilst I was in
the shower, but I noticed someone else used to watch that feed too.”
He chuffed, clipping his drill away in its case before coming to kneel in
front of her. “Not the feed of you in the shower? What a missed
opportunity.”
“Mmm,” she hummed back. “When you stayed over that night and tried
to be all honourable in not touching me, I had hoped you’d take the
opportunity presented to you.”
“What opportunity?”
“When I was touching myself in my bedroom, and you could have
switched on the feed at any time.”
Jensen’s eyes blew wide with outrage. “You maddening little tease,” he
fastened his hands around her ankles and yanked her down.
Talia let out something between a giggle and a squeal. “Careful, I’ll get
carpet burn on my arse.”
He climbed over her, his elbows caging her in on either side. “Good,” he
lowered his head, his lips parting over hers in a leisurely, luxurious kiss.
“You tortured me that night.”
“I think tortured is a strong word.” Talia gasped as he rolled his hips
against hers, feeling that telltale hardness. “I knew what I wanted. And I
knew what you wanted too.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t call the police when you realised I had access
to it.”
Talia wound her arms around his neck, delving into his thick hair. “What
would I have said? Help, officer, my son’s father is watching him on the
security feed whenever I have a shower. It’s too adorable. You must arrest
him immediately.”
“You know what I mean,” Jensen rumbled.
“If you’d been perving on me when I was naked, it would have been
different. But you wanted to see your son, Jay.”
He sobered. “I wanted to see you too. I wanted to know you were safe.”
The reminder of her attack made Talia glad she was in Jensen’s arms.
“Because you didn’t trust Quinn?”
His jaw flexed. “Because I wanted you to stay safe.”
 Talia knew what he had the tact not to say. I told you so. “Thank you for
saving me. For protecting me.”
The tip of his nose brushed against hers. “I’ll always protect you, Talia.”
“Is it true he was charged with attempted murder?” She gave Jensen a
hard look, determined not to cower.
“Among other things.” He nodded. “And I’m pulling every string I can to
get him convicted. My solicitor said he’s looking at a potential sentence of
life imprisonment.”
Nerves made her say it. “What if he gets away with it?”
Jensen’s voice was lethally soft. “He won’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“I made my choice back at your flat that day.” His hand was warm as it
palmed her cheek. “I won’t do anything to risk our future, but I have a
friend who holds no such compunction.”
“A friend?”
“Roman. You met him at Felix’s birthday party—and I met him in
prison.”
Talia’s lips parted in shock. “He looks as dangerous as a church mouse.”
Jensen huffed out a laugh. “That’s what I thought… at first. Either the
justice system will get Quinn, or Roman will.”
“You told him to do that?” She didn’t quite know how to feel. It was hard
to reconcile the man she thought was her friend and the monster who tried
to strangle her. But they were one and the same.
He shook his head. “I told him nothing. What Roman does is his own
business, but he made it clear what would happen if Quinn isn’t convicted
by the courts.” Jensen shrugged. “Think of it as his version of a
housewarming present.”
A familiar noise from upstairs made both of their heads turn: Felix was
awake.
Jensen climbed off her, dropping a kiss on her forehead before he left.
“I’ll get him.”
Whilst he was upstairs, Talia scanned their living room. It was a strange
mix of old and new; her sofas, Jensen’s TV, the new play mat, her bookcase,
Jensen’s drinks cabinet, their framed photographs.
Half listening to the footsteps upstairs, Talia settled on the sofa and
scrolled through the messages on her phone. Darcy, Kate, and Mia had all
messaged her since she’d last checked, and by the time she’d finished
replying Jensen had arrived downstairs with Felix.
“Do you want to fly to Mummy?” Jensen asked, holding Felix aloft like a
plane and zooming him through the air. He kicked his legs madly, giving
them a toothy grin.
“Come in to land, Felix!” Talia held her arms out, engulfing him in a hug.
Jensen joined them on the sofa, slinging an arm across its back. She
turned towards him, a devilish smirk on her lips.
“Would Dadda like to come in to land as well?” she asked, her brow
arching.
His voice was a low purr. “Dadda can come into land later, can’t he?”
“Dadda!”
Talia and Jensen turned as one. Felix sat in her lap, wearing a proud
smile.
A vice squeezed around her chest at the smile that curved Jensen’s mouth,
shock and joy rounding his eyes. “Dadda?” he whispered.
Felix’s voice was firm. “Dadda.”
Jensen hugged them both to his chest, curled up on the sofa. Talia
couldn’t hold back her smile, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“Do you love Dadda, Felix?” Talia brushed the hair out of her son’s
sparkling sapphire eyes. Time for yet another haircut. “Because I love
Dadda.”
Felix didn’t answer, but Jensen did, lifting her chin to look him in the eye.
“I love you both. More than anything. More than everything. My perfect
little family.”
Talia lifted her lips to his, brushing a soft kiss against them. “Your perfect
little family loves you back every bit as much.”

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 32

OceanofPDF.com
 Epilogue

T alia smoothed down her skirt, second-guessing herself. She’d teamed a

knee-length black pleated skirt with a pastel pink blouse, but now she
was worrying about whether she was overdressed. What if the rest of them
were all in jeans? What if she looked like a total bellen—?
“Well don’t you clean up well?” a dark voice purred from behind her.
She threw a look over her shoulder, a soft smile coming to her face. “Do
you think I’ll be overdressed?”
Jensen shook his head, resting his hands on her hips and his lips on her
neck. “Everyone will want to make a good impression on their first day.
And if you’re that worried, we’ll take a change of clothes, get there early,
and then you can watch everyone else walk in and see what they’re
wearing.”
Her nerves settled almost instantly. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Talia
turned, winding her hands around his neck. “You always know what to say.”
“Not always. Do you not remember my jaw hitting the floor when I found
out about Felix?”
“To be fair, I think most people would have been dumbfounded,” she
countered.
Jensen’s lip curled into a decadent slant. “One way to put it. Do you want
me to go pack a change of clothes for you?”
She waved her hand. “I’ll do it while you get Felix ready.”
 In the end, Talia decided she didn’t need to pack a full outfit change. She
settled on bringing a pair of jeans and trainers instead. Her blouse looked
fine with either, and would still give a semi-professional vibe even if she
paired it with a pair of tracksuit bottoms.
“Mumma!” Felix waved, watching her come down the stairs.
Talia very nearly died of a cuteness overload. Jensen had dressed their
son in a suit romper, complete with matching blazer. She swept him up in
her arms, holding him above her head and then quickly changing her mind
and resting him on her hip. He was getting far too big to be doing that these
days.
“Look at how smart you look for your day at the office with Dadda and
Bampi!” she exclaimed, giving him a peck on the nose.
“The company’s biggest shareholder has to dress up for his big day,
doesn’t he?” Jensen leant against the wall with a content smile on his face,
the sharply pressed lines of his own suit drawing her eyes to his thighs.
Talia shot him a wry grin. Dad had asked to re-join the joint venture
between him and Jensen—on one condition: that the shares be split three
ways. Dad and Jensen would have a quarter each, with the remaining half
belonging to Felix.
Jensen had shaken his hand on the spot, and Talia loved him for it.
On the way to the college, she listened to Felix talking to himself in the
back seat. Most of it was incomprehensible, but there were the beginnings
of words there, along with the rustling and rattling of his sensory toys.
She opened up her phone to see a barrage of ‘good luck’ messages from
their family and friends, and each filled her with more confidence than the
last, until she was dying to get in the classroom and learn.
As they pulled up in the college’s car park, Talia side-eyed Jensen’s
movements. His large hand on the gearstick. His muscular arm on the back
of her seat as he reversed into the space. All she’d have needed was for him
to pull up on the parking brake and she’d be ready for him to take her back
home and carry her to bed.
Instead, he pressed the parking brake button, and Talia threw a mental
middle finger up at it.
Fucking car manufacturers. Clearly none of them were run by thirsty
women.
A trickle of smartly-dressed women did, however, begin to make their
way into the college, until Talia was more than satisfied her clothes were
appropriate. “I think it’s time for me to go in,” she said, unable to keep the
excitement out of her voice.
Jensen’s arm was still slung across the back of her seat. His other hand
came up to lift her chin, and he leant across the centre console to part his
lips over hers. She let out a tiny moan at the soft, sensuous slide.
Felix interrupted them with a shout, lobbing a toy across the backseat.
She grinned, losing herself in Jensen’s sapphire gaze. “Good luck with
him at the office, if he’s in one of those sorts of moods.”
“He has fewer tantrums than most middle managers I come across,”
Jensen shrugged.
Talia believed that. Some of the stories Dad had told her over the years
were eye-opening. Mia had been better behaved when pushing out an eight
pound baby.
“I’d better go,” she whispered, her nerves building once more. The
downside of waiting for everyone else to go in first was that she’d now be
walking in to a room full of people. “I don’t want to be late. I’ll be shouted
at on my first day.”
He took her hand, his lips brushing the diamond ring on her finger with a
smirk. “I’m always here if you need me—but you won’t. You’re brilliant all
on your own.”
Her stomach flip-flopped between excitement and anxiety as she stepped
out of the car, looking out for flying shrapnel before opening the back door
to say goodbye to Felix.
When he saw her, Felix flashed his milk teeth in a grin. “Mummy.”
“Mummy’s going bye-bye,” Talia bent in to press a kiss to his forehead,
narrowly missing being smacked in the head with a rattle. “Have fun with
Daddy at the office. I love you!”
Jensen lazily watched her as she came to his window, cupping her nape
and angling her head to take her lips in a teasing kiss. She fisted her hand in
his lapel, feeling the tension building beneath her navel.
“If you find yourself feeling nervous, then know that all of the other
students on that course are just as nervous as you,” he said, his voice
gravelly with need. “Remember you’ve already done this with Mia, Talia.
You were fantastic throughout the entire thing. You already have more
hands-on experience than they do. You can do this. And if you still find
yourself feeling nervous, then think about what a good girl you’re going to
be for me tonight. I’ll take it all off your shoulders.”
 Her eyelids fluttered—and her chest along with it.
Well shit, now she couldn’t wait for tonight.
“Then I’ll see you tonight,” she smirked, a flirty twinkle in her eye.
Jensen waved her off, looking effortlessly handsome—as always. “I’ll see
you tonight, baby girl.”

Thank you so much for reading Jensen and Talia’s book – I really hope
you enjoyed it.! I feel like I’ve been writing this book for an ETERNITY, so
I’m ecstatic it’s finally done. I kinda feel like Frodo at the top of Mount
Doom, if I'm honest.
As with all my books, A Stone’s Throw's bonus epilogue is available to
download on my website! I'll always give you guys another sex scene,
don't worry 😘
Want to pre-order Aldous's book? It'll be an enemies-to-lovers,
arranged marriage, why choose romance. And yes, there will be MM action.
Can you guess who with? 😈
Haven't met Warren and Kate properly yet? They don't get off to the
best of starts. It involves a torture chamber, but like… she can fix him.

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 Also by Stevie Sparks

DAD’S BEST FRIEND | SECRET BABY| AGE GAP | COLLEGE STUDENT HEROINE |
SCOTTISH HERO | VIRGIN HEROINE | HIGHEST BIDDER | SECOND CHANCE
.
I paid to have her once. Now, I’ll risk it all to have her forever.
The first time I saw her, she was an innocent. An untouched beauty offering
herself up to the highest bidder.
I told myself I was only bidding to keep her safe. To protect her from men
who would shatter her innocence without a second thought.
If I’d had any idea who she was, any idea what defiling her would mean for
my future, I might have walked away without ever touching her.
But I didn’t. And now the secrets we’ve kept threaten to unravel both of our
lives.
Having her the first time cost me nothing but money. Keeping her…
could cost me everything.
.
Click here to read now!

VALENTINE’S DADDY VIBES | ‘GOOD GIRL’ | AGE GAP | PLUS SIZE HEROINE |
TATTOOED MMC | BILLIONAIRE HERO| PIERCED HERO | PIERCED PEEN |
SURPRISE BOSS | BOSS TO LOVER | DOMINANT HERO | IDIOT CAT
.
When Skye walks in on her boyfriend sleeping with her sister on
Valentine’s Day, she does what any woman would do. She breaks up with
him, grabs her cat, and high tails it out of his life. Dressed in her sexiest
outfit and out on the town, she meets Silas.

When billionaire Silas Silver heads to the bar after a hectic day at
work, he never expected to meet someone like her. Captivated from the
moment she walks in, he watches from the shadows until he sees a man
follow her to the bathroom.

But if her curves catch his attention, her personality holds it. Their
chemistry sizzles, and before long the two of them end up back at his
penthouse for a very climactic Valentine’s evening. Bad dating experiences
 made him focus on his career, but maybe his happy ever after isn’t so far
away after all…

In Silver Fox, a spicy Valentine’s Day novella, the worst day of Skye’s life
turns into anything but as she and Silas find themselves entwined in desire
and passion. Their connection soon proves that, on Valentine’s Day, love
really can be found where you least expect it.
.
Click here to read now!

LATE HUSBAND’S BROTHER | AGE GAP ROMANCE| HE FALLS IN LOVE FIRST|

ONLY ONE BED| HAPPY EVER AFTER
.
His brother's wife. He loved his brother's wife.

After losing his heart to Emmeline, the one woman he could never have,
Michael committed himself to a life in the army, fighting for King and
country in the Great War.

...Until his brother died, and Michael returned to Scarlett Castle as the Duke
of Foxcotte.
 Fed up with her lack of grandchildren, Michael's mother hatches a plan to
bring Michael and Emmeline together in a marriage of convenience.
However, whilst Michael agrees to court Emmeline, they both secretly long
for something more passionate than a business arrangement. But Michael
could have never imagined that hidden trauma lurked beneath Emmeline's
emerald eyes.

Michael and Emmeline soon ignite a flame that threatens to consume them
both as they learn that all relationships come with risks both wanted and
unwanted. Will their marriage of convenience be successful? Or will
Emmeline's traumatic past catch up to her and sweep her away?
.
Read on for a sneak peek from Surrendering to the Duke…

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 Acknowledgements

T hank you to my husband, who is eternally fetching me drinks. Not

because I can’t get up and get them myself. Usually I can. I may be
disabled, but I’m also lazy. Thank you to my TENS machines, without
whom I wouldn’t be able to type. Except when they constantly run out of
batteries while I’m in the middle of a paragraph and they disrupt my flow
like the cunts they are.
Thank you to Grace, Treece, and Jose for assisting me with social media.
Thank you to Steph for helping me plan out A Stone’s Throw, as well as
steering me away from the plot lulls I would have introduced into the book.
Thank you to the Smutzillas in my Facebook group, the Sparklezillas in
my street team, and my Patreon subscribers. Thank you to one
Sparklezilla in particular, Diamond, who found the missing double quote
mark that kept hiding from me—you 100% lived up to your name!
Thank you as well to everyone who reads my books or has interacted
with my social media or has left me a review. It means the world to me!
Even the negative reviews. Some of you have some good points, to be fair,
and they help me to be a better writer. So even if you think the book is a
pile of shit, thank you for reading it 😂
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 About the Author

Stevie Sparks is a British author and long-time copy editor from Windsor,
England (where Windsor Castle is).

She suffers from a terrible medical condition that has left her incapable of
reading books without smut. When it comes to books, she prefers the phrase
'full steam ahead.'

Stevie writes both contemporary romance and historical romance. Because

sometimes she wants to watch Bridgerton and see the Duke of Hastings rail
Daphne in the library, and sometimes she's in the mood for Zade Meadows.
She can be found on Goodreads, TikTok, Instagram, Facebook, and
Twitter. She also has a Linktree if you don't want to click on five different
links.
She also wants to give you a high five for reading all the way to the end.
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