Twenty-seven
The dark is no place to plant a seed.
Yet with our hands in the ground, we give in to our need.
Digging through the shit we can’t stand to face.
Learned the hard way that our past can’t be erased.
--Ataxia
Rex
Living with Hatch.
Property of Hatch.
All so she could feel taken care of or self-destruct.
All because of me.
Shit. I thought my problems ended at dealing with my past. I was wrong. She explained on the plane ride back to Vegas that she had nowhere else to go and that all she wanted was to feel safe. I can’t help but think that I made her feel as desperate as I felt living in that basement. She was alone, willing to give whatever she had to offer to feel accepted, taken care of. The thought makes me sick.
She gave herself over to a scumbag like Hatchet, hoping to heal the wounds I’d inflicted. And he let her. He had to know how upset and desperate she was. He took advantage of her; he was no better than those sick bastards who visited me as a kid.
She said more, but I don’t remember because I was too busy planning the thousand different ways I was going to torture Hatch the next time I see the tubby f*ck. Her insistence that he saved her, protected her from dudes who’d have taken advantage of her, only pisses me off more. Brainwashing motherf*cker.
We took a cab from the airport. Other than Raven and Jonah, who were there the day she woke up, she didn’t want anyone to know she was back. A lot has happened and she needs a few days to recoup before all the women descend.
“Rex, I don’t think this is a good idea.” She’s standing in the doorway to my condo, her arms crossed at her chest. “I’m sure I can stay with Trix.”
Wearing gray sweatpants the same color of her eyes and a tight black thermal shirt that offsets the bright red locks of her shoulder-length hair, she’s a damn knockout. We haven’t been alone for more than an hour since she came out of a coma. I told myself that I’d keep my hands off her until she’s ready, but it’s taken every bit of strength I have not to strip her naked and worship every inch of her body.
I drop the small bag of our stuff just inside and turn to pull her into my arms. “We’ve been over this. Trix has a roommate now and you need rest.” I kiss the top of her head. “And if I haven’t already made it clear, here’s clear-er.” I pull back and cup her face, tilting it to look at me. “I’m never losing you again. I want to feel you breathing against me when I sleep as a constant reminder that you’re here, alive, and mine. Dating isn’t enough, baby. I want more, and unless you have a really, really f*cking good reason why you don’t want that, it’s not up for discussion.”
Her body relaxes in my hold. “I know this has to be so hard for you. I don’t want to cause you any stress.”
She’s always thinking of me before herself. I pull back and meet her eyes. “You’d be surprised how far I’ve come since you left.” With her hand in mine, I move inside the condo and shut the door.
She stops in the foyer, and I turn to find her slipping off her shoes.
“Leave them on. I’m okay.”
Her eyes go wide. “Really?”
It’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but after my memories came flooding back, I’ve been working to overcome my compulsions. Daily breakthroughs and praises from Darren are all things I can’t wait to tell her, but now isn’t the time. She’s spooked and I can’t lose her, so I’ll slam the door on that convo and concentrate on making her at home.
I ignore her question and bring her to my bed at the far end of the room. “Lie down. I’ll order some food.”
“Rex, you don’t have to take care of me. I’m fine.”
I sift my fingers through her hair and notice how it glistens a dozen different shades of orange, so different from Mac’s hair. Even now, it’s hard to join the two women. Both are strong in their own ways, but Mac had a carefree attitude about life that I don’t see in the gray eyes I’m lost in now. Will she ever be that way again?
“Gia . . .”
She cringes and drops her chin.
I kiss her forehead and catch her eyes. “What do you want me to call you?”
“I like it when you call me baby.”
“Yeah.” I run my lips along hers and the gentle hitch of her breath sends a wave of arousal through my body. “I like callin’ you baby, but everyone else knows you as Mac.” I slide my hands around her body and dip them down to rest on her ass. “Who do you wanna be?” I kiss a path down her neck, and she drops her head to the side on a moan.
“I want to be yours.” Goose bumps race across the tender skin of her neck.
“Mmm you got that, baby.” I squeeze two fists-full of her backside and hold back the urge to push her back onto the bed and climb between her legs.
I haven’t felt like this since the last time we were together before she left: consumed by her to the point that everything else fades and all that’s left is us.
She pushes her palms up the front of my sweatshirt, fingers raking along my abs. I tense and roll my hips, grinding my hard-on into the softness of her body.
“I want you.” Her words reverberate in my skull, awakening all the parts of me I thought I’d never feel again.
I cover her mouth with mine and pull at her lower lip. She understands and immediately tilts her head, opening her mouth just enough for me to delve inside. My senses explode at the sweet taste of her mouth. The slick heat of her tongue slides against mine, firing my need to make her mine in every way.
Holding her tight, I walk her toward the bed until the backs of her legs hit and she drops, breaking the kiss. She looks up with lust-fogged eyes and a need I’ve never seen on her before. She’s so f*cking sexy it has me fighting the urge to take my dick in my hand.
Unable to keep my hands off her, I trace the line of her jaw to her full lips. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Her one word answer spoken against my fingertips jacks my hips forward.
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing, but I’m not sure I can go another second without being inside you, baby.” I swallow hard, repulsed by my inability to control my desires. She’s been traumatized, and the last thing she needs is me throwing myself all over her.
With her eyes fixed at my waist, she reaches up and unbuckles my belt. I’m helpless and can only watch as she slips the strap from the buckle and pops the button on my pants. Her soft gray eyes peer up at me, and I pull my lip ring between my teeth at the question I see in her eyes. She drops the zipper and dips her hand beneath the elastic of my boxer briefs to free me. Her eyebrows drop low as her fingers tease my newest piercing. She dips her chin to study it closer.
Her breath catches in her throat. “Oh my.” She gazes back up and me. “Why?”
I shrug. “After you left, I wanted a reminder of my vow to never go there again with another woman.”
The pad of her thumb brushes from one end of the barbell to the other sending waves of euphoria shooting up my spine. “So while I was gone, you never . . .?”
“No.”
Her cheeks flush pink and her shoulders slump. “Oh.”
I haven’t asked, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that if she’d been sleeping in Hatch’s bed for six months chances are they were doing a lot more than sleeping. But I know what it feels like to be desperate. I remember needing to feel loved so badly that I’d degrade myself to feel anything remotely close to it. I understand why she did what she did, and in a lot of ways I’m responsible for it. I pushed her to it just like the circumstances of my life pushed me.
“Look at me.”
She blinks up at me, tears shining in her eyes.
“We both have things we’re not proud of, but that doesn’t touch what happens between us.”
“If I could take it back . . .”
“No take backs, baby. I love you. That’s where we stay.”
She inhales a shaky breath, and a ghost of a smile passes her lips. “I love you, too.”
Warmth flutters through my chest and turns to heat at the fire I see in her eyes. She wraps one hand around me in a firm grip and leans in. Softly, she brushes her lips first before swirling her tongue around my piercing. My stomach tumbles, and my pulse rockets through my veins. I fist my hands in her silky red hair, holding her to me. She parts her lips, and my dick disappears inch by inch into her mouth until she can’t take anymore.
“F*cking beautiful. You look so gorgeous takin’ me in.”
A moan of approval vibrates her throat and sends my hips thrusting forward. She braces her hands on my thighs, keeping me still while she sucks me deep.
Less than a year ago these were the things that would drive me to be sick, but with her it’s different. We’re not taking or using but rather sharing in the pleasure together.
Her dark eyelashes lie in contrast to her fair skin. Full dark lips shine with moisture. The visual becomes too much. Afraid if I don’t stop her this will be over way before either of us is ready, I pull away.
Her eyes dart to mine. “Are you okay? Did I—”
“I’m fine.” I try to give her a reassuring smile, but intoxicated with lust it’s hard to pull off. I take a step back. “Stand up.”
She jumps to her feet, and I grin at her eager need to please. Such a good girl.
I grab the hem of her shirt and wait for her to nod the go-ahead. Once I get it, I drag the fabric slowly over her skin, allowing her to feel every fiber. Little by little her skin, smooth against my knuckles, is revealed. Perfect. I tug the shirt off over her head, and her hair falls to hit the tops of her shoulders. She’s still so thin, and there’s a slight indentation at her ribs that wasn’t there before. I vow in this moment to feed her any and everything she wants for the rest of her life.
My gaze crawls up her torso from belly button to chest and lingers at her white lace bra. She’s breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling, teasing me with the visual of their pink tips through the fabric. My palms tingle to get at them.
“Turn around.”
She does, and I step in close behind her so my hard-on presses against her. I smile, enjoying the moan of pleasure that falls from her lips. Reaching for her bra, I slide down one strap at a time, kissing the path that it takes down her arms. The delicate coconut scent of her skin shoots through my senses and stokes my need. Releasing the hook of her bra, I drop it to the floor at her feet. I skate my hands up her belly to cup her breasts, rolling the tips between my fingers. She arches her back, pressing into my hold.
“I want to look at you.” Using my lip ring the way she likes it, I run the metal against her shoulder and nip at her skin.
She turns around and holds my stare. Her gray eyes are darker than usual, and I’m inflamed with the need to lose myself in them when I bury myself inside her.
I drop to my knees and slide off her shoes and socks. Moving to her waist, I untie the drawstring of her pants and pull them down her legs, taking her panties with them until she’s gloriously naked before me.
I make quick work of my sweatshirt and pants, and our gazes lock. She stares at me with appreciation and an acceptance that has me wanting to fall down at her feet and beg her to never leave. And just like when we were kids, I’m vulnerable, needy, willing to do anything for her love.
A glint of disgust flickers in my gut, telling me that I need to be in control, warning me against falling victim to my need for love.
I take a deep breath. She’s not them. From the beginning, she’s loved me regardless of my past. I don’t have to earn it from her. I own her heart.
With a growl of victory, I close the space between us and hook her around the neck, crashing her lips to mine. She falls into me but fights against my dominance. Every thrust of my tongue she meets with a push of her own. Her hands rip through my hair, pulling me closer, pushing me back. Her leg hooks around my hip, and the heat of her exposed body rubs against mine. The simple act pistons my hips forward, knocking her back onto the bed where I tumble on top of her.
She opens her legs wide and lifts her hips. “Please. I need you.”
Sucking the tender skin of her neck between my lips, I slam my eyes shut and hold back from burying myself inside her wet heat.
With loosely held control, I drag myself away to pull a condom from my bedside table. Faster than my aroused mind can follow, I rip, roll, and drop back between her legs.
She digs a heel into the bed, and I allow her to push me to my back. Straddling my hips, she guides me into her body so damn slowly I grind my teeth to avoid slamming into her.
Her head drops back. “Yes, that’s it.”
I grab her hips firmly and growl. “I’m it.”
“You’ve always been it.” She lifts and drops with long intentional strokes that drive me to the brink of blissful insanity.
“Gia, baby, don’t stop.”
Her eyes find mine through the fog of arousal. “Say it again.” Another slide in . . . out. “My name.”
“Gia.” I cup her breasts and seize her nipples between my fingers. “My Gia.”
“Yes. Always.” She rolls her hips in waves as the frenzy takes over.
I drive my hips up, meeting her push for pull, and tilting my pelvis to add more friction. She drops forward, the full length of her torso pressing against mine. Her hair falls around my face. Skin to skin, breath on breath, climbing, pounding, reaching.
“Harder, baby.”
Her pace quickens, and she snags my lip between her teeth.
“F*ck, yeah.” I throw my weight behind my hips, driving into her.
My muscles go tight, eyes fixed on her red hair and gray eyes. The feelings of comfort drown me in my love for her. She’s harbored her loyalty and affection for me, dedicated her thoughts to delivering revenge for me.
I spent my childhood bartering my body for the love of another when this whole time she’s had unconditional love for me. She held it, guarded it, and offered it when she finally could. And for that I owe her everything I have to give.
“Gia, baby”—I release her hips, feeling her soft skin as I move up the curves of her body—“give me all of you.” I pull her in for a long, deep kiss. My head lifts off the bed, pushing toward her while tugging her closer. Our hips surge together in a frantic chase.
Her neck arches back and she rips her lips from mine. My name falls from her lips seconds before the orgasm slides through her body. I pull my lip between my teeth. My head is light with euphoria as my body and soul climax together.
A torrent of memories hit me at once: the first time I felt her skin and the tender brush of her lips, her easy smile that would make my chest ache, and her body, lying broken and alone.
I almost lost her.
I could’ve lost this.
I roll on top of her, and she welcomes my weight with a sigh. Seconds after my orgasm, I’m not only still hard but hungry for more.
And only then do I notice I’m not sick, not even a little. My gut that’s usually cramping is warm and tingles with satisfaction.
At peace.
Cured.
I bury my face into her neck and fight back the urge to thank her, worship her, and devote the rest of my life and everything I have to making her happy.