All That I Am (Men of Monroe Book 1)

  “You’re kidding yourself if you think I’m staying here,” he growled as he stepped closer.

  “You knew everything about me, you investigated me,” I gasped in disbelief. “Meeting you at the diner, you coming into Sass, the night we flirted at the bar, and then when I went home with you. Was that all because of this? Were you still investigating me?”

  "Yeah, Sweetheart. I knew you. I was not lying when I said I’d seen you when I was nineteen, so get that thought out of your head. What I knew about you was info anyone could find out by doing a search on you. The shit I wanted to know, you made me work for.”

  My heart screamed as his words penetrated. How could I love what he said but in the next breath want to erase every memory I had of him?

  “I can’t believe this.” I sat on the edge of the couch and dropped my face to my hands as I tried desperately to let everything sink in. What could I believe? More importantly, who could I believe? The first time I ever opened myself up to the thought of a future with a man and it all came down to this. Lies, mistrust, and secrets?

  I needed to get out here. But I knew I had one final thing to say before I could disappear to my house and beg every god there was that I could sleep away the nightmare that had been thrust upon me. Silently, I prayed that I could keep my composure for a few more minutes. I would not let the waterfall of tears sitting just behind my eyes spill. I could not let anyone see me break. Missy stepped forward and her hand wrapped around mine. The comfort she offered hit fast. I turned to Ben, and his eyes locked tight with mine before his gaze swept deep inside me and settled on my broken heart.

  “You need to forget about me,” I whispered, and immediately I was hit with the feeling of a hundred blades stabbing my throat as I struggled to say every word.

  He took two steps toward me, and I held my ground. His mountainous body threw a shadow over mine. The same body that had comforted, protected, and devoured me, and had given me something I now knew, was based all on a lie.

  His face dipped to mine, his breath taunting my lips with a broken promise. “You really think that’s possible?”

  I stared up at him, my glare turning to ice while my blood boiled. He’d become something to me. He made me consider the impossible, and made me believe in something I never wanted to believe. And what for?

  “You’ve got to make it possible. Forget me.”

  “Not going to happen.” His deep, thick voice wrapped itself around me as if he was offering me one final tormenting gift. “No fucking way.”

  “Do not contact me, do not talk to me, and do not come to me. I no longer exist to you.”

  I couldn’t stick around. I needed to flee. I didn’t offer a goodbye to anyone. I spun around, pushed my shoulders back, held my head high, and lied to everyone watching me.

  I walked out with the look of strength sitting on my shoulders, while in reality my heart was shattering and I knew it would never be fixed.

  30

  BEN

  “You are not here.”

  Sasha opened the door, and as soon as she saw me, she pulled on her mask and shut down. I refused to stay away. Particularly tonight. I was pissed that it had all come out like this. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to sit her down and tell her what was happening. My way. Not to be forced by O’Leary, and especially the way he’d done it. Did I feel like an asshole for keeping her in the dark for so long? Of course I did. But my only thought was to protect her. What had started as a job had transformed into something spectacular. Sasha was my future, and I was not going to let the bullshit surrounding us steal that.

  After she left with Missy, the four of us sat and discussed the issue. Something wasn’t right. O’Leary was too cocky. He knew we were watching, he knew Carson was undercover, and he didn’t hide the fact that he knew. He’d thrown it in our face. Someone was bringing drugs into Hamilton’s and dealing. Someone linked to O’Leary. It had the same feeling of the shit that went down in Salt Lake. The only difference was that women weren’t involved . . . yet. Our time to figure it out was quickly coming to an end. There was only so much time Captain could give us before he had to take it further, and taking it further would mean the possibility of Hamilton’s being investigated, Drew and Sasha being interrogated, and the bar shut down.

  So, what the fuck was going on?

  And why?

  The only thing I knew for certain was that I wasn’t going to get a warm reception turning up at her place. So, I got right to the point.

  “Tonight, you’re either coming to my place or I’m staying here.”

  She scoffed. “You’re joking, aren’t you? Did you not hear a word I said at your place. I don’t want to see you. I have nothing more to say to you. You need to forget me. Forget us.”

  “Seeing us together today would have pissed off O’Leary. Austin, Drew, and I together would have really pissed him off. The three of us going to Salt Lake would have majorly pissed him off, so I am not letting my girl spend the night on her own when that motherfucker is pissed off.” I stepped toward her and she looked up at me with wide eyes. “So, you need to choose. Am I staying here, or are you coming home with me?”

  “He’d come for me?” she whispered, her voice wavering.

  My jaw clenched. “He’d have to get through me first.”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor, and I could practically hear the argument she was having with herself. When she looked back up, I knew she’d made her decision, although she struggled with it.

  “You’re on the couch,” she declared, before swinging around and storming into her house with her hips swaying and her hair flying behind her. She was pissed, and it was rolling off her in waves. She had every right to be pissed. We’d kept important things from her. I thought I was protecting her, but in the end I’d hurt her, and that was on me.

  After stepping inside, I locked us in and switched off the front light. In the background, the television provided a soft hum and lamps offered a light glow. I unloaded my keys, wallet, and phone as I passed the kitchen counter, then I made my way into the living room. Sasha sat on the couch, one of her throw rugs wrapped tightly around her shoulders, providing a barrier between me and her body. Her stare moved from the television to me for a split second, before the television won and regained her attention.

  I sat beside her and pulled her feet onto my lap. She stiffened and tried to pull them away, but it just made me hold on tighter. An uneasy silence rolled through the living room, both of us lost in thought and mindlessly watching the television. Without knowing it, she was calming me down. It took everything not to go on a rampage to find O’Leary and tear him apart. But the blonde bombshell beside me, the one that had crawled so deep within my mind, heart, and soul, and who had wrapped herself in her throw rug instead of my arms, was my only priority. Nothing else mattered. This was where I needed to be, where I’d always need to be, and where I was going to stay.

  “I should have known it was too good to be true. The warning signs were clear as day: stupidly handsome, great smile, exceptional cock, life-altering bed skills, and could kiss to the point of bringing on an orgasm. Those men aren’t real. Those types of men live in my kindle, not in real life. I should have realized you wouldn’t be real.” She turned toward me and the look of complete distrust in her eyes nearly killed me. “I am so pissed off at you. I won’t be able to move past this. I promised myself long ago that I would never allow anyone to make me feel like I do right now. I am so hurt, Ben. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this hurt before.” That was when she turned around to face me, and I saw just how hurt she was by the tears swimming in her eyes. “When my mother left, that hurt. It broke me. But over the past thirteen years, I’ve learned that I’m okay. When life throws you bullshit, you have to wash it off and shine brighter. That’s what I did. Then Dad died, mine and Drew’s lifeline, and that cut me deep. That wound was one I never thought would heal. Then you turned up. You gave me something I never wanted, something I tried so hard to avoid, but
you showed me it was something I needed. You gave my heart the chance to start over. But look where it got me.”

  She shook her head and furiously wiped away a single tear that had fallen over her cheek.

  Then she gave me her eyes. The defeated look staring back at me made me feel like I’d been stabbed in the gut and the knife dragged up to my heart.

  “I’m done, Ben.”

  “Well, I’m sure as fuck not.”

  “Your alphaness isn’t going to work this time,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, and putting her hands on her hips. “What kind of information did you think you’d get out of me by having sex with me?”

  “It was never about my cock wanting your pussy, so get that out of your fucking head.”

  She glared at me, and I glared back at her. We were going around in fucking circles, and I was getting tired of her thinking I used her. Sasha was not the kind of woman you used. Sasha was the kind of woman you claimed as your own, kept satisfied, and worked on giving her the world and so much more. So, I laid it out to her.

  “You accused me of knowing everything about you. I knew about ten fucking percent of you. I knew the things someone could learn with a google search. I knew things anyone on the PD could know by searching you. What I didn’t know were the important things. I didn’t know what you looked like first thing in the morning, how you took your coffee, or how much you loved cake. I didn’t know how your pussy tasted, or the way you sounded when my cock was balls deep inside of you, or what you looked like humming my name when you came. And Sundays, fucking Sundays, Sasha. I never knew how incredible they could be with you beside me. So, no, I didn’t know everything, and I still don’t. I still have a lot to learn, and I will learn it, because we aren’t done.”

  “I can’t do this,” she said, before turning and rushing down the hall and disappearing from my sight.

  I leaned back against the couch, closed my eyes, and sucked in a deep breath.

  This was beyond fucked up.

  If I wanted to ruin O’Leary before, now he had this on his hands, and I would not stop until he was wishing he was dead.

  Mess with my family, and you had me as an enemy.

  Mess with my woman, and you had a death sentence.

  31

  SASHA

  An hour later, I walked out of my bedroom, down the hall, and stepped into the living room. Through the glow of the television, I saw Ben on the couch, his hands under his head and his attention now on me. I tried everything to distract myself. I started reading three books, I tried to watch a movie, and I even tried to get lost in the world of social media, but nothing helped because my head wouldn’t stop screaming at me.

  “I’m going to call Missy and ask her to come and stay the night. You can leave.”

  One thing I did during the hour in my bedroom was start rebuilding the wall Ben had started to demolish.

  I moved through the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out the orange juice. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention when I felt him move up behind me. When he pushed my hair off my neck, I nearly dropped the juice.

  “I’m not leaving,” his husky voice declared against my reactive skin. “I’m not letting you deal with this on your own, and I’m sure as fuck not giving up on us.”

  “You cannot say things like that. Why can’t you get it through your head that we are done.”

  He spun me around then snatched the juice out of my hand and placed it on the counter. I stepped back, the kitchen island hitting me, and he stepped forward and locked me in. “Why can’t I get it through my head? Maybe it’s because you’re the first woman to get under my skin. I can’t imagine fucking another woman, and I don’t want to fuck another woman. You’re the woman. I want to see myself with in five, ten, twenty-five years. Yeah, keeping this shit with O’Leary from you wasn’t the best decision, but I made that choice. Your brother made his choice. This job has been shit. Really fucking shit, but you’ve given me your smile again, and your laugh, and that’s made all the shit worth it. So, I’m not giving up. I’m not moving on. I’m not leaving you alone, and I sure as fuck am not forgetting you.”

  He was giving me too much. My heart had stepped into a fierce battle against my head, and I didn’t know who would come out winner. I shook my head as I tried to comprehend everything he said, while goosebumps took residence on my skin. With one step, he was against me, and the sharp edge of the counter dug into my back. His large hands cradled my face, his thick fingers sliding through my hair and halting my movements. My chest rested against his, and I was sure he was able to feel my thundering heart. His blue eyes scanned my face, before dropping to my lips and then locking with my eyes again. We couldn’t do this. Too much had happened. But my body craved his touch one last time. Like a drug addict desperate for one final hit, I licked my lips.

  That was all he needed to unleash the beast inside of him.

  In a flurry of movements, I was lifted from my feet, my legs wrapped around his hips, and his lips crushed against mine. We were moving, and then my back slammed against the hall wall and the pictures rattled on their hooks. My gasp tore the air around us to shreds, and in a hurry of hands, Ben undid my jeans and slid his hand inside my panties before his finger entered me. My eyes slammed shut as he worked my pussy like he was playing his favorite instrument. One finger, then two. Slow, and then fast. Soft, and then hard. I clutched onto him for dear life when his thumb teased my clit with the most delicate of touches. My body turning to liquid as the sound of how wet I was caressed the electrified air around us.

  “Ben, please,” I moaned, my forehead dropping to his shoulder as I felt myself losing control.

  “Sweetheart,” he grunted, his voice rough and heavy. He needed to stop calling me that. “Show me your eyes. Look at me.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t look at you.”

  “Why?” he asked. His fingers stopped their onslaught and froze inside of me.

  I needed him to move, so I laid it out to him. “Because what is real, Ben? I don’t know who is real, what to believe, or what to clutch onto, because I really need something to clutch onto right now. I opened myself up to you. More than I’ve ever opened myself up to a man before. I gave myself to you. I let you in. And now this?”

  Through all of this, his fingers began to move again. Slowly at first, but with every word that poured out of my mouth his moves intensified, and then I lost them. I looked at him, pleading with my heavy eyes for him to finish what he started. His hand moved between us and he undid his fly. My breathing hitched at what I was about to receive.

  “I’m real. You’re real. We are real,” he murmured against my mouth and lined up his cock.

  “There is no longer a we, Ben,” I panted, my body switched on and soaring as I tried to regain some control of my body and mind. “You need to walk out this door and not look back.”

  “Never going to happen.”

  “It has to happen.”

  “Seems I’ve got to fuck some sense into you.”

  In one determined move, Ben slammed inside me and my world caught on fire. I sucked in desperate breaths as he filled me so beautifully.

  With wild moves he thrust deep inside me, and I cried out for him to go deeper and harder. I needed him to bruise me from within so I’d be reminded of our final time for days, or even weeks.

  “This isn't the end,” he groaned against my mouth, as if he had climbed inside my head and read my deepest thoughts. “We do not have an end.”

  My ability to answer or think was eradicated the moment his mouth crashed back onto mine. The sensation of his lips stealing my words and thoughts overcame me, and I began to tip over the edge into blissful delirium. I thrust myself up against him, my hands gripping onto his hair as he repeatedly pounded into me, and I took everything he gave. No matter what he thought, I knew this was the end.

  How could it be anything but that?

  This moment would be the most beautiful yet tragic memory I’d ever
have.

  Early morning light danced through my bedroom as I woke with a smile on my face.

  My sated body reminded me in the most beautiful of ways where Ben had been just hours before. The delicious throb between my legs, my swollen lips, and the marks on my chest left by his eager mouth and teeth. The smell of sex lingered on my sheets and wrapped itself around me in greeting. Last night wasn’t sex, it was wild, animalistic fucking.

  I went to call out to him, to find out why he’d left me in bed on my own, why I wasn’t wrapped up in his arms, or crying out his name as he took my body to a place only he could take me.

  It was Sunday.

  Usually, we didn’t get out of bed until noon.

  I rose on my elbows and gazed toward the door.

  Then it hit me with brutal force that knocked the air out of my lungs and sent me crashing back down on my bed.

  My heart ached. My throat burned. My body remembered.

  Lies.

  Heartbreaking, soul destroying lies. The kind that drained you of all strength, and left you wondering how you could possibly pull yourself back from this.

  I rolled to my side and clutched the pillow Ben had slept on. How could my heart be broken if I’d spent so much time holding it back from him? Wasn’t this what I wanted? This was what I asked for. And he’d given it to me.

  I’d suffered a lot of pain in my life, but this was a completely different kind of pain.

  It hurt differently.

  It felt like forever had been stolen from me.

  The next time I woke, it was to Missy’s voice floating through my house.

  “Babe, are you still asleep?”

  “I’m awake. Be down in a second.”

  I pulled back the covers and the cool air hit my naked body. After we had sex against the wall, Ben had carried me to bed and then wrapped me up in his arms. No words were spoken. I didn’t think there was anything that needed to be said. I’d spent two hours listening to his steady breathing and memorizing the rhythm of his heart under my cheek. Somewhere between three a.m. and seven a.m. I’d fallen asleep and he left. I fumbled through my dresser, grabbed a fresh pair of panties and a bra, and hurriedly dressed. I had no plans of leaving the house, so I pulled on my lay-around-the-house-and-do-absolutely-nothing sweat pants and one of my dad’s old Hamilton’s shirts. As I walked downstairs, I braided my hair and hung it over my shoulder.