“There is no distinction, honey. I call you one name. Others call you another. But in the end, they’re one in the same.”
His words were freaking her out so much her hands went from resting on his back to pushing in between them, not to force him away but to find warmth.
“Sweetheart?” he called questioningly.
She couldn’t be both.
It was one.
And it was never supposed to be the other.
But she was out.
She was his.
Simone was his.
As was Sixx.
They just weren’t one in the same.
They couldn’t be. How could she protect Simone … protect him … if they were?
But there was no denying it, not anymore.
They were both out.
They were both his.
They were both who she was.
Two halves made whole.
His fingers moved back to cup her behind her ear, the pads carefully digging in and even the tone of his voice communicated his concern when he said, “Simone.”
“I think I really kind of need to just … pass out,” she told him lamely.
“That was too intense,” he declared.
“I’m…” Her head twitched. “Sorry?”
“That scene, it was too intense.”
“It was fine, Stellan.”
“It asked a lot of you.”
“No more than I’ve seen you ask of any of your subs.”
“You aren’t any of my subs, Simone. You’re you, the woman in my bed, my home, my life. This is just a part of what we have, and we’re getting to know each other in that way, and that scene was asking too much.”
She was confused. “I can’t imagine how.”
“It required the strength of Sixx with the openness and acceptance of Simone. They are one in the same. But you clearly don’t know that yet, so introducing you to yourself through fucking you was not the way to go.”
She was still confused.
“But … didn’t you do that last Sunday?”
“No, I broke Sixx last Sunday. Sixx submitted to me last Sunday. I didn’t have Simone last Sunday. I didn’t have her tonight. Tonight, I had it all.”
He did.
She’d given him it all.
He moved suddenly, rolling off of her but hooking her with an arm like he was going to drag her out of bed.
All of a sudden panicked, she clamped on and cried, “Wait!”
Stellan lifted a hand and cupped her jaw. “We’re showering and then we’re—”
“No!” she exclaimed desperately, pushing into him with her body, wrapping her arms back around him, holding on tight.
She couldn’t lose what he’d given her that night.
She couldn’t lose what she had of him.
She couldn’t lose what she’d given of herself.
“Darling—”
She shook her head where it was resting on the pillow. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to wash you away.”
His voice went supremely tender. “Simone, we need to exit this scene completely. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“No.” Sixx kept shaking her head. “We can’t. I want to keep it. Don’t make me lose it.”
He studied her face so acutely she couldn’t handle it, shoved it in his throat and held him even tighter.
“Let’s just go to sleep, baby,” she whispered there. “Can we just go to sleep?”
He hesitated before he replied quietly, “We can, darling. But before we do, I need you to take the plug from me.”
She nodded, moving her hand toward his ass.
She didn’t get there before he murmured, “Will you kiss me while you do it?”
At the request, being an actual request, from Stellan, so quiet, so beautiful, her hand stopped, her eyes closed, and her heart wrung out like someone was squeezing the blood from it.
It did this only for it to be let go so new, clean, uncontaminated blood could pump through it, through her veins, through her entire body.
She tipped her head back and caught his gaze before she moved in to take his mouth and slid her hand to his backside.
She took the plug from him slowly, gently, absorbing his corresponding purrs in her mouth as he took her tongue and sucked sweetly at it when he’d been released.
He ended the kiss, kissed her chin, her nose, then pulled carefully away, taking the plug from her before he left their bed.
She curled her legs into her belly and watched him walk to the bathroom.
He was not gone long, and he made short work of turning the lights out around the room when he returned.
He then rejoined her in bed, immediately pulling her into his arms, over his body, so she was straddling his thigh, her forehead in his neck, his hand at her ass, his other arm holding her close to him around her back.
“Sleep, Simone,” he urged softly.
She nodded against his skin, staring at the shadows of his chest and shoulder, but she knew sleep would not come.
In the dark, held by Stellan, covered with him, filled by him, she looked back at their time together and realized it had happened long before that night.
And because of that, she had no choice but to make a decision.
So she did.
This decision did not make sleep any easier.
In fact, it was just the opposite.
She also knew Stellan did not sleep, probably feeling her awake, sensing her disquiet, but oh-so-Stellan, not prodding at it.
He was like that and would not rest knowing she could not.
This should have made her decision easier to take.
It did not.
But no matter how difficult it was, for the both of them, she had to carry it out without delay.
They had tonight.
And tomorrow …
Tomorrow would be whatever it would be.
Though she knew what it would be, and she hoped the night never ended.
But Sixx had learned a long time ago not to hope for impossible things.
That night would end. They always did.
And then it would be tomorrow.
On that thought, Sixx fell into an uneasy sleep.
Only then did Stellan join her there.
eighteen
Dynamic Duo
SIXX
Sixx woke the next morning to an empty bed.
She didn’t panic. Stellan was good at giving her space. Especially after things got intense.
Although she didn’t panic about that, her belly felt like it was filled with lead, her body like it was encased in concrete, and it was without a doubt the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life, rolling out of that bed.
When she made it to the bathroom, she saw a cup of coffee on the warmer, but other than that, nothing. No lingerie. No note.
Pure Stellan.
He was worried about her, so he was not going to take them there.
That morning it would be Simone and Stellan, maybe a day of movies, or going shopping, or perhaps driving up to Prescott to spend the day out of the heat.
Whatever she wanted.
Whatever she needed.
Yes, God yes, what she had to do was the worst thing she’d ever had to do in her life.
But it had to be done.
She slid out his plug, washed it, and set it on the towel laid out on the counter next to the one he’d cleaned last night.
His and hers plugs.
It was the woman she was, it was the couple they were, that made the sight of their shared intimacy set her nearly to collapsing in uncontrollable tears.
Instead, she did something else she didn’t want to do.
She got in the shower and washed him away.
When she got out, she lotioned up (it was Phoenix—in that dry climate, no matter what was happening, you couldn’t miss that step). But she didn’t do makeup or perfume or fashion her hair into adorably fuckable.
She would go to him as she was. Simone “Sixx” Marchesa.
Bared.
Real.
She moved out to the bedroom, right to the end of the bed.
Sixx stood by the tee Stellan had left on the floor and deliberated far too long on whether to nab it or put her own clothes on.
In the end, she was selfish.
She needed it, needed some part of him near, so she bent and grabbed it, pulled it on, went to the walk-in and got a pair of panties.
She slid them up. Stood there. Took a deep breath. Then another. And a third.
Only then did she set about doing what she had to do.
She went to the drawer where she’d hidden them under some clothes.
And she retrieved them.
All of them.
She then walked into the bathroom, got her coffee, walked into the bedroom, through it, and left the room.