The One She Needed

TWENTY TWO

ALEX

Recovery wasn't a smooth road. The echoes of that knife slicing into me still haunted my mind, but the presence of family and friends made it easier to keep the nightmares at bay. Rebecca was a constant, along with Raquel and my mother. Even Angie had paid me a visit, swearing up a storm in a way that only she could, bringing a much-needed smile to my face. Patrice had come by too, and I hated that she was now stuck working under Derek. The exhaustion in her eyes told me everything—he hadn't changed. He was still the same manipulative bastard.

On the bright side, Raquel and my family were getting along. It gave me hope, a vision of what forever with her could look like. My mother, never one to miss an opportunity, had drilled me with questions when we were alone. I kept my answers vague, claiming Raquel and I were just friends, but I wasn't fooling anyone. She smirked every time Raquel walked into the room. I wouldn't be surprised if she already had names picked out for our future kids.

My boss at the shop had been understanding, telling me to take all the time I needed. Now that I was finally discharged, the thought of sleeping in my own bed filled me with relief. That first night home, surrounded by my family at the dinner table, was something I hadn't realized I missed. It felt normal—something I hadn't had in a while.

Things between Sam and Rebecca were still tense, but I knew they'd work it out. If I could forgive her, surely he could too.

08:30 AM From R 

We need to talk. How about dinner at my place...8 o'clock?

I had stared at that message for hours, my mind running in circles, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. As the evening approached, my nerves had settled into a slow burn beneath my skin. I smoothed my hands down my slacks, inhaling deep breaths of encouragement, but nothing could have prepared me for standing at her door.

The door swung open, revealing her glowing face. She beamed at me, ushering me inside. A simple blue dress hugged her curves, her heels giving her an air of effortless grace. Despite my lingering frustration over how she'd ignored me for weeks, her presence alone made it difficult to hold onto that grudge.

"I'm really glad you came," she said, leading me to the dining room.

"Well, unlike you, I don't run away from people."

"Alex..." Her voice softened as she turned to look at me. "I was going through a lot back then."

"So was I." I took a seat, my voice betraying the exhaustion of loving her. It was a weight I carried, one that left me torn between anger and longing. I was tired of feeling like I had her, yet she was never truly mine.

She reached out, her fingers tilting my chin up to meet her gaze. "I know you went through a lot," she murmured, hesitating as if carefully choosing her next words. "And I'm hoping we can move past it—onto better days."

She turned toward the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Dinner passed without issue, but the tension lingered like an unspoken question between us. We sat together on the couch, drinks in hand, dancing around the real reason I was here.

She handed me a beer, and I smirked at the small detail she'd remembered.

"How's work been?" I asked.

She chuckled, shifting slightly. "Manageable... but most days, I found myself distracted, thinking about you."

She was breaking me again—so sweetly, so effortlessly.

"It's not fair, you know," I exhaled heavily, my voice carrying the weight of my frustration. She turned, her brown eyes searching mine, waiting for me to continue. "You say things that make me believe in love, that make my heart race. But your actions tell a different story. And even if I wanted to move on, I'd always be looking back, waiting for you to leave him."

"Alex..."

"What did you want to talk about?" I cut her off, unwilling to be derailed.

She fidgeted, avoiding my gaze. "Who knew you could be so poetic?"

"A lot changes when you're in love." My voice wavered, uncharacteristically shy despite my bold confession.

Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken words. Then, without warning, her lips found mine. I hadn't felt her move, hadn't registered the shift in the air. My body reacted instinctively, pulling her close, drowning in the intoxicating scent of her skin. Her fingers tangled in my hair, her body pressed flush against mine. Logic dissolved. The world ceased to exist beyond the feel of her, the taste of her.

Somewhere between hurried kisses and burning touches, our clothes disappeared. She straddled me, moving with an urgency that left me breathless.

The way she looked at me—steady, unyielding—sent a shiver down my spine. I gripped her waist, her heat consuming me as she rode me with purpose. I wanted to tell her not to stop, but my voice failed me, stolen by the pleasure unraveling me at the seams.

Her lips brushed my ear, voice sultry, laced with need. "I missed having you inside me."

A groan rumbled through my chest, her pace quickening, her nails dragging down my skin. My control was slipping, my body tensing, coiling tight.

Desperate to regain some power, I sat up—only to have her push me back down, her gaze dark with intent.

"Raquel—" My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

She placed a finger against my lips, silencing me. "Just relax," she whispered, her mouth brushing my jaw, "and let me fuck you... daddy."

I shattered beneath her, my body trembling as pleasure consumed me. When it was over, I collapsed back against the couch, breathless, dazed. My face was hot, my skin slick with sweat. I caught her staring at me, at the evidence of our passion still glistening on my skin.

"Sorry," I muttered, suddenly shy under her gaze.

Her smirk was slow, knowing, as she traced a finger over my stomach. "It's okay, Lex," she murmured, her tone filled with promise. "I can wait."