“I don’t know what to say,” I lied, fisting the back of his shirt and nuzzling my cheek against his jaw, the most amazing calm of my life engulfing me.

Using my hair to turn my head, he swept his lips up my neck, and then his breath flittered across my skin as he whispered in my ear, “No questions. No judgments. No faking it. No apologies. Give it to me.”

A shiver traveled down my spine, and I swayed into him, our chests becoming flush.

And then I gave it to him. Everything I could never give anyone else.

“I think he hates me.”

No sooner than the words had cleared my lips, he followed it up with a confession of his own. “I’m drowning in that car all over again without him.”

My breath hitched, an apology burning on the tip of my tongue. But that wasn’t what Porter and I did in the darkness.

Turning my head, I brushed my lips with his. “He told me that I only loved Lucas, and Catherine only wanted him to replace Travis.” I paused to collect myself. “He thinks you were the only one who ever wanted him.”

His body turned to stone, but his head hung low. “Jesus.”

My throat became thick, and I was barely able to speak. “I love him. I swear I do. But he’s right. I want him to be Lucas.”

His fingers tensed in my hair, but the pain at my scalp did nothing to distract me from the anguish in my chest.

“God, it feels so filthy even saying it out loud. You have to know that I love him. Down to the core of my soul, but he’s like a stranger to me.” I tried to push off the counter, desperate for some space, but Porter moved in closer, blocking my retreat.

“He was a stranger to me once. Now, he is the core to my soul. He and Hannah. That’s my life. That love wasn’t ingrained into me at birth the way it was you, but it grew into a wildfire. And I don’t know how to turn it off. And I’m terrified the courts are going to ask me to do just that.”

“Oh God,” I breathed, hooking my legs around his hips and locking them at the ankle as if I could hug him tight enough to erase the pain.

His hand drifted down my back and then crept under the hem of my shirt, flesh to flesh. “Your turn, Charlotte.”

“I can’t give him to you.”

“I’ll never ask you to. But I won’t ever stop trying to get him back.”

My body locked up tight, panic blasting through my system. “W…what?”

He shook his head and pressed his lips to my temple. “There’s enough of him for both of us. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. He’s your son. But I’m begging you not to forget that he’s mine too.”

Closing my eyes, even though the room was already pitch-black, I whispered, “I have no idea what I’m doing. These should be the happiest days of my life, and I can’t stop crying because I know he’s hurting.”

His head came up, and while I couldn’t see him, I could feel his blue stare burning into me. “You’re hurting too.”

It wasn’t a question.

It wasn’t an accusation.

It also wasn’t a lie.

“We’re all hurting,” I admitted, clinging to his shoulders.

“Not tonight,” he whispered. “Tonight, he’s happy. Tonight, I’m here with you. Tonight, we’re together. Tonight, nothing outside this apartment matters. Tonight, your son sleeps safely in your bed. Tonight, my kids sleep soundly for the first time in a week. And, tonight, we can share the darkness.”

My mind drifted back to only a few weeks earlier, the first time Porter had taken me to the confessional in the darkness. It was a night I’d never forget because it was the first time I’d ever given myself to someone else. Not physically, though that had happened too. But emotionally. I’d offered him my deepest, darkest secrets. And he’d taken them, devoured them, and made them his own. He’d made the darkness a beautiful place filled with understanding and acceptance.

Porter was like that. Everything was easier with him

Everything except losing him.

So I asked him the same question he’d asked me that first night together. “What’s going to happen when we turn on the lights?”

“Just don’t let go and it won’t matter.”

“How are we going to do this? Technically, Porter, you’re breaking the law by even being here. The police—”

“I had nothing to do with the kidnapping,” he growled.

“I know! And I believe you. But the police are still investigating you. You end up in jail for breaking the protection order, it’s not going to help anyone.”

“So we lay low for a few weeks. But, damn it, Charlotte, we will find a way to make this work. This is my life. This is your life. This is his life. And her life. This is our life and you know it. We’ll figure out the details later, but for now, all I need from you is a promise that we are going to do this. No matter what. We’re in this together.”

My heart soared higher than I ever thought possible. Porter had the most amazing knack of getting into my subconscious and untying the knots I so often made out of obstacles. With him, my thoughts weren’t jumbled and my fears weren’t roadblocks.

“God, I missed you,” I breathed, giving him my very last confession.

“Does that mean you’re with me?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m with you.”

“And we’re going to do this, right?”

“Yeah. We’re going to do this.”

And then Porter gave me his last confession, only his was a little more tangible.

His lips crashed down on mine, our mouths opening and our tongues tangling, needy and desperate.

His lips felt like velvet, smooth even as they were rough and demanding. And, with his every touch, a week’s worth of panic and anxiety ebbed from my system. In its absence, every nerve ending in my body came alive, desire filling me.

I tugged at the bottom of his shirt, frantic to feel more of him—all of him.

He broke the kiss long enough to snatch it over his head, mine meeting the same fate less than a second later.

His mouth once again covered mine, and he yanked my bra down, both of my breasts popping free of the cups. His dexterous fingers immediately found my nipples, plucking and rolling, sending sparks to my clit.

“Yes,” I breathed, falling back on the sink until my shoulders hit the cold mirror.

Using my legs to force him forward, I rolled my hips against his, finding glorious friction against his hard length hidden behind his zipper.

“Fuck,” he ground out, releasing my breasts and moving his hands down to my core. His fingers dipped into my yoga pants, swept my panties to the side, and then pressed in deep.

My back arched and my ass slipped off the vanity, but Porter held me in place with an arm hooked under my hips.

“Keep going,” he encouraged in a jagged voice as I began working myself against his hand. His thumb dropped to my clit, drawing slow circles as his fingers curled inside me. “Come on, sweetheart. Give it to me,” he urged before hunching over to suck my nipple into his mouth.

The combination was too much, beautiful and agonizing at the same time. My nerve endings became overloaded with sensations to the point I couldn’t focus anymore, but Porter never slowed.

His fingers twisted.

His tongue swirled.

His thumb circled.

“Porter,” I cried, my release tearing through me.

His head popped up, sealing over my mouth as he swallowed my moans until I sagged in his arms.

And then…he was gone.

My pants were ripped down my legs, and the sound of his zipper played the harmony to my labored breathing.

And then…he was everywhere.

His mouth came back to mine, his hand guided his thick shaft to my entrance, and his strong body surged forward as he drove inside me.

I clung to his shoulders as he dragged me to the edge of the counter, the lip of it biting into my ass as his hips began a relentless rhythm that lit the fuse on yet another orgasm.

“Oh God,” I moaned as he planted himself at the hilt.

“Shh,” he ordered, pressing up onto his toes to change the angle, as if he could possibly get deeper. “You have to be quiet.”