Cut Through The Heart || Chapter 13. Wrennie Chooses


They are the same height, and their eyes are locked. You hastily put the cup down.

“You aren’t going there, are you?” You look at Lan. He’s giving you a raised eyebrow, and a pointed look. 

“Of course I am.”

“And will do what exactly?” He waves his cup in the air in a questioning gesture.

“They are obviously fighting about me.”

“It doesn’t matter. Thorington isn’t your toddler who’s throwing sand into other child’s face. You can’t go there and tell him how to behave.”

You breathe out. Lan is right.

“What is going on there right now?” you ask in a whisper. Lan peeks over your shoulder.

“Mrs White, Elwig’s assistant is talking to them both. They are indeed making a scene. I’m pretty sure half of the people noticed.” You feel dizzy. “Wait… Now Mrs White is talking to Thorington… Oh, he’s leaving… Oh fuck, wait, no, he’s not leaving, he’s…”

Lan doesn’t have to tell you what’s going on. Your radar is ringing in your head.

“Wren.” John’s tone is enraged, and you turn around. He’s standing above you, his hand stretched towards you. “We’re leaving.”

You lift your eyes at him. His jaws are clenched, eyebrows drawn together, eyes dark. If you refuse, will he drag you from here by your ponytail previously knocking you out with his club? You look at his open palm. You hear Lan suck in air nearby.

And then you smile and look into his eyes. You have made your choice long ago.

You put your hand into his and get up. You mannerly put the napkin from your lap on the table.

“Bye, Lan. I’ll text you about that boy.” You lift your chin and smile to John again. “I’m ready to go.”


“That was completely unacceptable of you…” You’re breathing heavily.

“To which of my actions do you refer?” He rolls on his stomach and looks at you. God, he is gorgeous!

“You know what I mean.”

He’s smirking. “You seemed to like it, judging by the screams and the biting.” He screws his eyes and tries to see his shoulder. There are indeed teeth marks there.

You sit up and pull up the covers to your chest.

“What did Elwig say to you?” John drops his head into the pillows.

“Can we not talk about it?” His voice’s muffled.

He peeks. You’re giving his a stare.

“You’re so stubborn.” He turns on his side and looks at you. You aren’t even blinking, and he gives in. “He said exactly what was to be expected. That I’m corrupting you; that I am old enough to be your father; that if you had a father, he would never allow; blah-blah-blah…” He actually says ‘blah-blah-blah’ and in his posh accent. You giggle. He lifts a brow.

“Sorry, go on.”

“He said that I used my position in the project to seduce you, that you don’t know what you are doing, that I’m going to break you and toss aside…” He’s getting angrier with each second, and exhales sharply. “Exactly what I told you people would think if they knew you were sleeping with me.” He suddenly looks tired.

“If you knew they would say that why did you get so angry?”

“Because it still sounds like shite.” He rubs his eyes with his palm. “I understand that’s what it looks like, but Elwig knows you. Does he really think you would be so stupid to just shag me?”

Wow, your brain is going to explode now and decorate the wall with your grey matter.

First, he’s defending your honour. Like really, not in a stupid way this expression is used, but actually defending! He’s offended that Elwig assumed you are daft and a trollop.

Secondly, ‘just shag me?!’ What are you doing then if not ‘just shagging’ him?

“Wren?” You realize you are frozen and staring at the opposite wall.

“What? Oh, sorry, just lost in my thoughts for a second here. Where were we?”

“Where were you? I was still here in the bed.”

You need to address the mushiness and girly adoration that has just overcome you. You climb on top of him, and he chuckles.

“John, I’m going to kiss you now. I really need to kiss you now.” You are cupping his face.

“Sure.” He’s chuckling, and you kiss his smiling lips. Your head is spinning from the love and the tenderness you feel for him. His hands are stroking your shoulder blades, and he is sighing into your lips.

“Wren, I…” Your lips slide on his throat.

“Hm?” He shakes his head.


He exhales noisily, and flips you on the bed. You look into his eyes and stroke his cheek. He kisses your palm and then catches your fingers with his mouth. You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck. Bollocks, you can spend a week in his bed.


“Where do you want to have dinner?” You’re dozing on his chest.

“Room service?” He snorts.

“Your wish is my command, my lady.”

He gently moves you onto the pillow, and goes into the living room for a menu. Yum, the glorious backside! You snuggle into the pillows. They smell like him, you, and sex. That’s a hell a lot of sex. Thea’s bag is half empty. She was so kind as to donate it to the ‘Shag Your Ginger Fund.’ Her words obviously.

He flops back on the bed and hands you a menu. He’s reading the second one. The only thing he’s wearing are the specs. Your mouth goes dry. You probably can’t move a single extremity, but it doesn’t mean you can’t ogle. And plot for the future. You still have some unfulfilled items in the List.

You finally look at the menu. Then you notice that it doesn’t have prices. Seriously, in what century do they live in this hotel?! They still have a woman’s menu! You huff and jerk his out of his hands. Then you shove yours towards him. He’s giving you the Look. It’s supposed to be condescending and patronizing, and it used to terrify you. But after you reduced him to a mumbling quivering mess, gasping for air and repeating your name like a prayer, while you were deepthroating him, he really lost a lot of intimidation power.

He sighs and takes your menu.

“Do you mind if I at least pay for the wine? You are not going to drink it anyway.”

“Very funny.”

“What can I say, I am a funny bloke”.

Your turn to snort. “That’s the last word I’d use to describe you. Steak sounds good. What do you think?”

“Which words would you use then?”

Is someone feeling insecure all of a sudden and wants his ego stroked? You give him an appraising look. Wow, you are actually right. This nonchalant look, the tense shoulders, very attentive studying of the menu… Hm… You put yours away and pluck his out of his hands. And straddle him again. What can you say? That’s the easiest way to make him focus on you.

You gently scratch his chest.

“If I were asked to describe you I would start with gifted, and brilliant, and… cantankerous.” He lifts a brow, and his large palms squeeze your buttocks. “And despotic, and generous, and sexy…” You start alternating between talking and kissing his ear and jaw. “And stubborn, and autocratic, and possessive, and tyrannical…” You’re nibbling on his earlobe.

“It seems to me that there were more negative than positive qualities in this list.” He’s murmuring.

“It seems to me you don’t find them that negative since you continue behaving like a chauvinistic brute.” He guffaws.

“And here I was fishing for compliments. Should have known that with you, I would receive chastising instead.”

“I did say you were sexy and gifted.”

“And cantankerous.”

“Yep.” You pop the last sound. “But I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” He’s smiling to you tenderly. You shake your head. “And why is that?”

“Awww, are we fishing again? Do you want me to swoon and to say that it’s worth it?”

He sits up abruptly and presses you into him.

“Yes, I want you to say that it is worth it.” His voice is suddenly low and serious.

You cup his face.

“You are worth it.”

He presses his lips to yours ferociously and grabs handfuls of your hair. The low rumble reverberates through his chest.

He’s worth it.

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