Page 49 of Forged By Shadows
We buckle up as the engines roar to life and I allow myself to sink into the leather seat, closing my eyes for a moment to process this sudden change of events. I should be used to the twists and turns of my life by now. Every time I think I’m settled or I know what I’m doing, a curve ball comes and blows me out of the water. I don’t realize the silence that has settled until it becomes heavy, and I peek back over at Huxley. His hand is toying with the armrest between us, on the verge of dropping onto my leg but he’s holding back.
“Of all people, Little Swan, please don’t underestimate me,” he says quietly, and I glance up in time to see the flash of vulnerability appear in Huxley’s features. “My whole life, people have only cared about my looks, my parents included. I’m always being judged for what I’m wearing or who I’m hanging out with. No one cares to know that my desires run deeper than materialistic things. I want the things money can’t buy - experiences and knowledge. I want to be more than a cliché.”
I exhale sharply and take Huxley’s hand in mine. Shit, I know better than to judge people and I went and did it anyway. Huxley pulls my hand up to kiss the back of it and grins.
“And the adventures this fugly lot take me on aren’t something I’d pass up for the world.”
“Hey!” Garrett kicks Huxley beneath the table. At his side, Axel rests a soothing hand on Garrett’s thigh, but he still pouts. “I’m not fugly.”
“You’re drop dead gorgeous,” Dax reassures him from across the walkway. The following laughter bounces around the plane, cut short by our ascent into the sky. Beyond Huxley and Dax, I catch sight of Wyatt’s sleeping form. A frown pulls at my mouth and I turn back to the window before anyone notices. Is he genuinely tired, or is Wyatt taking himself out of the conversation because I’m nearby?
For the first time, I have a niggling feeling that I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be taking Wyatt’s friends away from him. It’s become apparent they’re all he has, and until this past weekend, I didn’t care because I knew he didn’t deserve them. Now though, I’m starting to see the effects of his withdrawal and I can only imagine the mental turmoil he’s going through. His own fault - yes. But still, I’m becoming more and more invested in a place where I don’t belong. It’s ultimately going to be me or him that stays, and the way my fingers are knotted with Huxley’s speaks volumes.
Our plane ride doesn’t take more than an hour and a half, and the conversation has long since moved on. The boys discuss politics, news, tv shows, all of which I quietly listen to. Then they talk sports and I tune out completely. Garrett has the flight attendant running back and forth with snacks every five minutes, while Axel plays footsie with me under the table.
Once landed, we’re escorted by more of Huxley’s staff into two Bentley’s. I don’t miss how all of the others pile into the rear car, leaving the front one for just Huxley and me. When I question him on it, he simply smiles.
“I’ve waited patiently for my chance with you. I’m done waiting.” My heart flutters at his words so I settle into the backseat and stare out of the window. If I think too much about the large arm thrown over the back of my seat, of the warmth seeping into my nape, I might do something stupid out of desperation. Huxley’s right; he’s waited so patiently. He deserves more than an overload of rash decisions on my part.
We’re driven through a stunning city where the rich must thrive. We pass expensive retail stores on busy streets and fountains in public rose gardens. Winding up a hillside, each house grows further apart from the last and is harder to spot behind walls of greenery and huge iron gates. Pulling up to a set with the ‘HV’ logo branded into the center, I crane my neck in awe.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, spying the whitewash walls through the bars. Windows dazzle in the midday sun, framed by carefully coordinated floral displays. The sheer volume of balconies and wings visible from the front have my eyes bulging in my head. “This is your place?!” Beside me, Huxley inclines his head, his long wavy hair tickling my shoulder.
“Last night, Wyatt mentioned you’re not allowed to return home. I figured the least I could do is lend you mine.” My head turns into his face. Chocolate eyes filled with earnestness stare back. As we roll towards Huxley’s mansion, his fingers press beneath my chin to tilt my lips the rest of the distance to meet his.
Everything Huxley is - overwhelmingly warm, dependable and solid - hits me all at once. His kiss is gentle, but it settles deep within my core. His mouth brushes over mine, unhurried yet fueled by passion. By the time his tongue slips past my lips, I’m a quivering mess beneath him. I melt into the firmness of his chest, my hands settling on his biceps. He flexes, a show of power that mingles with the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It’s taken the longest to carve out this moment with Huxley, and it’s over far too quickly.
We stop in front of the front entrance, a member of staff opening the Bentley’s rear door. My cheeks are flushed red. Huxley’s knowing, cocky gaze doesn’t leave my face as I scoot out without a moment to compose myself. Two massive doors are opened from the inside before we’ve reached the top step.
“Where are the others?” I peer back at the empty driveaway. Huxley’s hand is on the small of my back.
“I may have sent them on a little detour.” His brown eyes sparkle with mischief. “Come on, I have a surprise for you.”
The house is every bit as grand on the inside as it is on the outside, with high ceilings, marble floors, and priceless artwork adorning the walls. Huxley leads me up a winding staircase, his touch gentle but firm enough at the same time. Butterflies burst to life within me, tenfold from when he pushed me up against the bathroom mirror after the frat house party. A night I refused to think about before, which is now branded at the forefront of my mind.
When Wyatt shut me in the cupboard, Huxley came for me. Huxley cared for me, as he has every night since; whenever I climb into his bed for comfort. He’s never once pushed for more than a cuddle, he’s waited until I was ready.
I’m ready right now.
Tracking the potted plants along a network of hallways, we head towards the back of the mansion and stop at a closed door. There’s a rounded bay window to my right with a bench seat underneath to look out onto the gardens.
“I’ve given you the room overlooking the pool. Just in case you want to watch my midnight swims.” He winks but I’m too flustered to be flirtatious. I lean into Huxley, my eyes hooded as I tilt my head back.
“I’ll be watching every night,” I mutter, pushing up onto my tiptoes. Huxley’s responding grin is equally stunned and smug. He lowers his lips to mine, his hand sliding up my back to cup the back of my neck. The other settles on my waist, crushing us together. Huxley’s palm seeps through the thin material of my t-shirt, the heat of him searing me like a branding iron.
“Don’t you want to see your surprise first?” He asks against my cheek. I feel the effort he’s putting in to restraining himself, but there’s really no need. I shake my head, winding my arms around his neck, and haul myself upwards. Huxley’s chuckle rumbles against my chest as he catches me, pressing me against the wall beside the door. Crashing my mouth against his, I claw at his shoulders and roll my hips. I can’t help myself, as if my next breath depends on shifting the overwhelming desire flooding my veins. I’d do anything he wanted in this moment, including let him take me in the hallway.
“Huxley,” I moan into his ear before biting his earlobe gently with my teeth. “I want you.” His groan reverberates deep in his chest. The look in his deep chocolate eyes is enough to set my world ablaze, but still he’s holding back ever-so-slightly. Gripping his hair, I drag him closer. “Please.”
Huxley’s hand trails up my bare thigh, bunching the material of my skirt. He’s everywhere, his mouth on my neck, his tongue tangling with mine, his hands dancing across my skin one moment, and in my hair the next. It’s like a dam has burst between us, and now there’s no containing it. Broad shoulders ripple beneath my fingers, the shudder that rolls through him ending with his hips pressing further against mine.
“Wait, wait, wait. Let’s press pause on this real quick,” Huxley tears himself away from me breathlessly and plants me back on the ground. The air between us is cold, so I automatically step back into his body. His neck is marked by my nails and his blond hair a tangle mess of fucking hot. “I really think you should go in and see your surprise.”
“Fuck the surprise. It can’t be better than what’s out here.” Both Huxley and I are stunned by my revelations, but it’s too late to play coy now. I step forward, palming his dick through his jeans. The door to the guest room flies open.
“Bitch, fuck you!” A female voice cuts through my haze of desire. Cocking her hip with both hands fixed on her waist, a long brunette ponytail slips over her shoulder. Releasing me, Huxley slowly backs away.
“Surprise,” he says with a sideways slant to his bruised lips. My brain stutters to a stop as I look from him, to her blazing blue eyes and button nose.
