The rest of the story was easier to tell. How she’d returned to Los Angeles and gotten her GED. How she’d worked her way through college. That money had been tight and every couple of semesters she’d had to take off to save up enough to pay for her tuition. How she’d made do with tattered books other students had thrown away.
She finally looked at him and was grateful to see that his expression was just as unreadable as it had been when she’d started.
“No one knows,” she admitted. “Not Jack, not anyone. I just say my parents are dead. I don’t know if that’s true about my mom. I never tried to find her. Why would I? She left me alone with a monster when I was ten. She knew what was going to happen and she left me.”
She paused to push down the emotion that threatened. Because she’d learned there were some places she could never go. Not if she wanted to be strong. If she let herself think about the past, ask too many questions, she was never going to make it.
So she’d ignored her past and had only looked forward. She’d gotten tough and learned to survive on her own. Until one day when a handsome football player had found her eating leftover sandwiches as if they were the only food she’d had in three days.
She drew in a breath. “That’s why I didn’t reach out my hand. I couldn’t. Not because of you, but because of him.”
Angel stared at her. “I understand,” he said at last.
He walked toward her. When he reached her, he put his arms around her and hauled her against him. He held her so tight she couldn’t breathe, but that was okay. She wanted to be close. She wanted to be held. And when the tears came, she didn’t try to stop them.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TARYN WASN’T SURE how long she stood in Angel’s strong embrace. The steady beat of his heart comforted her. He was warm and solid and she knew in her gut he would never hit anyone weaker than himself. He wasn’t like her dad. Few men were. But the scars ran deep.
Angel straightened enough to wipe her face, and then he lowered his head and kissed her. His mouth was soft against hers. Comforting, she thought. He wanted the kiss to be comforting. But the second she felt his lips on hers, she wanted something else. Something more.
She shifted so she could wrap her arms around his neck and raised herself on tiptoe. She pressed against him and parted her mouth. Heat poured through her and left her hungry. Need followed. She tilted her head and lightly swept her tongue across his bottom lip.
Instantly his entire body changed. She felt the tension of his muscles and the slight hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure. Because he didn’t want to upset her or take advantage of her, she thought.
She drew back and looked at him. “You pick this moment to act like a gentleman?” she asked as she shrugged out of her life jacket.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. Without speaking, he walked over to the kayak and pulled what looked like a blanket out of the small hold. Probably for their picnic, she thought. How convenient.
As she watched, he let his life jacket drop to the ground. He unlaced his boots and stepped out of them. She felt a whisper of disappointment. So they were going to be civilized about this, she thought. Somehow she’d hoped for something more than each undressing, followed by a pleasant and polite round of sex.
She knew she was still emotional from what had happened on the river and her confession, but jeez, why did it have to be like this? Where was the passion? Why couldn’t she find a man who was swept away and—
He stopped in front of her. “You sure?”
She sighed, then nodded.
He reached for her and drew her against him, then he lowered his head and claimed her. Only there was nothing polite about the kiss. It was hot and deep and caught her completely off guard. His tongue plunged into her mouth and circled hers, making her wiggle closer.
His arms came around her, but he wasn’t holding on. Instead he was moving his hands up and down her body as if he needed to discover every inch of her that second. As if he couldn’t get enough. He was nearly frantic as fingers and palms traced her back, her rear, her hips.
Desire resurrected itself, heating her body and making it easy not to think. She wanted to feel, she thought as she relaxed into his kiss. She wanted to only feel. His hands, his body—all of him and all of her. She wanted to get lost in what they could do to each other.
He tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. She raised her arms so he could pull it off. Seconds later, her bra followed. He cupped her br**sts, exploring the soft skin with his fingers before settling on her ni**les. He rubbed the tight peaks, rolling the hard points between thumbs and forefingers. Pleasure shot through her, forming a direct line from her br**sts to her groin. Muscles tightened as flesh swelled.