Better When He's Brave

He lifted one of his dark eyebrows at me and asked, “What is it that you understand about me, Reeve?”


“That you make everything better. You make me better, and I might never be good enough for you, but you make me feel like I can get close.”

One of his hands slid down to my wrist and the next thing I knew he was guiding me over the console and the emergency brake so that I was straddled across him with my back to the steering wheel. I hadn’t been in a car like this with a boy since I was a teenager. I kind of liked it. More than kind of.

“You make everything better too, Reeve, and there is no good enough because this with you is the best there has ever been.” And then his mouth was on mine and I didn’t get a chance to tell him we had left this behind and were now firmly venturing into more. Knowing that Titus was flawed, that he had made some questionable choices on his road to becoming the man he was today, made me love him even more. Where he was from was even uglier than where I was from, and that was beautiful to me. So was the way he was pulling on my clothes and kissing me along my throat.

I pulled back a little and met those glowing metallic eyes. “I tame your beast all the time, Titus. I think after that scene with my parents you need to try and soothe mine. She can use some petting and some coddling.” I wanted to do to him what he did to me but in a different way. I wanted to manhandle him with softness, rough him up with tenderness, love him up until he was breathless and boneless under light touches and barely-there kisses. I wanted to kill him with kindness. We both had had so little of it in our lives we could get drunk on it and forget about the rest of the world for just a little bit.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he lifted both of his hands off of my skin.

“Give her to me.”

Once I did, he was going to have to keep her. My beast made of gentleness and compassion was made to fit perfectly against his beast made of hardness and fight.





Chapter 14

Titus

I COULD COUNT THE number of people I had willingly talked about my father with on one hand, and I shared blood with two of them. I never talked about my parents, about where I had come from or how I had ended up where I was now. I didn’t like to think about it. Those memories made me feel like a fraud, like a fake, like a phony. It didn’t matter how dedicated to the law I was, how focused on helping others, or how much of myself I devoted to trying to make a difference in this godforsaken place. Underneath it all I was no different from Bax or Race. Hell, I was actually just as cold and just as manipulative as Nassir when it came right down to it. I hurt others to get what I wanted, and I did it without remorse, because the truth of the matter was I would do the exact same thing over again if that was the only way out I had.

Reeve talked about the beast inside of me and she was right. The basic parts of who I was still had huge chunks of that angry kid with a killer for a dad and a drunk for a mom making me the man I was today. There was still a little boy that was hungry because there was never any food and scared because he had a little brother he was never going to be able to take care of properly. And while I tried to hide it, tried to keep it all locked away, the more time I spent on the streets, the more time I spent with this woman who understood the darkness and despair, the closer to the surface those angry memories climbed.

She was sitting on top of me, one of her hands hard and insistent in my hair as she pulled me closer to her mouth. The other was yanking on the already loose knot of my tie and violently tugging at the buttons on my shirt. I never knew impatience could be such a turn-on.

I didn’t touch her. This was her show. Her turn to take what she needed to take, and I would gladly give it over. Even though the front seat of the GTO didn’t offer enough room to do the kinds of things I would really like to do with her. She had thus far shown no fear, no stopping point, no edge of hesitation when we came together. That just made me want to push her more and more. It was an addictive element to sex I had never experienced with anyone else. Granted no one I had ever been to bed with matched me the way she did. No one took everything I had to give and then asked for more. I think she was the only human being that had ever seen the real me. He wasn’t very attractive in all his greedy, insatiable, and grasping glory, but she never once looked away.

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