“No. What happened was my fault. I was weak. I was an illegitimate reservation girl with a lot to prove. But I stumbled when my goal was within reach.”
“That sounds like something you were told. Not something you believe.” Kye swallowed the rest of his words. Every time he thought he couldn’t dislike Bronson Battise more, she said something that made that a lie.
He’d heard the PR spin before he ever met Bronson or his daughter. It was part of his bio. Everyone said how magnanimous Battise was to take in troubled teens from reservation lands and teach them a trade. It made a touching story. Except that in the instances of Law and Yardley, they were his kids, abandoned years before.
He glanced back at Yard. She was staring at him with those eyes that seemed as large as the ones in velvet paintings of trembly-lipped children and animals popular when he was little. He wanted to hold her and take her pain away.
But she didn’t need his pity. She was a fighter. She’d had to be.
“I don’t know how your father found out about us. He confronted me the day my unit was leaving. Told me to keep the hell away from you. If I ever contacted you again, he’d see to it I was tossed out of my K-9 unit.” He’d go to his grave keeping silent about the part where Bronson said his daughter didn’t matter and wouldn’t inherit jack shit from him. But he owed her this truth.
“I was young and stupid. And a coward. I didn’t know what else to do. So I left. I know it’s too little too late but still I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “At least you’re honest.”
The silence stretched out again.
“Why did you come here?”
She’d asked that question many different ways in the past twenty-something hours. Here it was again.
“It was a chance to see you again.” It was that simple and that true. And he didn’t know what to do with that. “I don’t want anything from you. Not even an acceptance of my apology. It’s just that it’s always seemed like there was something unfinished between us.”
She turned her head again, canting it to one side. At first she simply stared; then her gaze became something more. Something turning up the heat in the dark depths of her eyes. Something thickening the tiny pulse that beat in the sweet hollow of her throat. Something climbing her cheeks like wild roses. He saw her lick her broken lip, the husky words forming there before she spoke. “I want something from you. May I?”
He smiled, not quite sure yet but going there anyway. He leaned back onto his pillow and folded his arms behind his head. “Help yourself.”
She reached for the bedding and threw it back. He watched her eyes widen at what she’d revealed.
He slept naked. Of course, he hadn’t been expecting company. Too late now to play coy. Free of the bedding his cock sprang up, thick-veined and heavy. It lengthened and bloomed under her gaze until it arched high off his thigh, trembling with each pulse of his heartbeat.
She didn’t hesitate. She scooted out of her pajama bottoms, leaving her top on, and then threw a bare leg across his. He caught a glimpse of a Cherry Coke shadow between her thighs and then she was settling her weight on his legs just behind his swollen cock.
She took him, using both her hands, and squeezed firmly. “I want everything you’ve got.” She tugged, pulled at the root of him until he gasped. “Can you give everything?”
“All yours.” His voice was a husk of a whisper. He’d long ago given up trying to understand the workings of a woman’s mind. After the business with Stokes, and then her confession only moments before about how her father had treated her after he left her all those years ago, he’d have thought she’d want his balls on a platter. Instead, incredibly, her smooth warm fingers were cupping them, massaging his dick in mind-blowing ways that felt too damn good to analyze.
His lids dropped down until his eyes were mere slits as he watched her work him with the concentration of a man in mortal danger. He could feel himself growing and thickening with each stroke until she had coaxed him to near bursting.
“Yard.” He heard the plea in his voice and wondered if he were dreaming.
“Shhh.” She leaned forward and placed a finger over his lips. Her hair, free from the usual knot, slid down over her shoulders and tickled his arms. And then she kissed his chest. Quick little butterfly kisses that barely registered had the power to expand his lungs with the need to keep breathing so he could experience every second.