Down and Out

Aftershocks pulse through me and send shivers up my spine. I think I’m momentarily brain dead as I slip out of Savannah, because it takes me a moment to realize why there’s so much extra . . . wetness.
Fear slams into me as I pull back and look at her still bent over form, watching thick, white globs trickle out of her.
Oh, f*ck.
I didn’t pull out.
Shit, shit, shit! She’s on the pill, right? This isn’t that big of a deal . . . right?
My mind races as I run a hand through my slightly sweaty hair. She told me not to stop—demanded it, really—so I didn’t, and then I— then I—
Damn it. I never should have done this without a condom.
My attention’s wrenched to Savannah when she straightens. A tremor shakes her as she tries to walk past me, and is that. . .? Is she. . .? “Are you crying?” I tuck myself back into my jeans and reach out, trying to stop her, but she shrugs out of my grasp. Her refusal to let me touch her cuts me to the bone.
Her voice sounds reed thin as she says, “I’m fine. I just need to clean up.” She sniffles, pulling her dress back down as her eyes dip to my chest.
This seemingly small gesture absolutely slays me, because I know what she’s doing. By avoiding eye contact, she’s trying to distance herself from me, from this.
It shouldn’t surprise me—this is what she does—but it still feels like a punch in the gut, especially after what we just did. I mean, Jesus Christ, she’s got my semen leaking out of her. You can’t get any closer than that.
Well, it’s not going to work. I won’t let her put up barriers between us. I tore them down once, and I’ll do it again and again and again if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes to reach her. She has to know that by now. She has to know that I’ll never let her go without a knockdown, drag-out fight that’ll leave both of us emotionally obliterated.
She’s mine. I love her, and she’s mine.
“Hey,” I say soothingly, lifting her chin up so she’s forced to look at me.
“Don’t touch me.” Her voice cracks as she shoves my hand away, and I realize this is a very big deal. Someone who’s on birth control wouldn’t be this freaked out.
Fear blooms in my chest, making my heart feel like lead as it tries to thrash against my ribcage. Panic rises, but I push it down.
I have to be calm about this. Two people panicking won’t get us anywhere.
Tears streak down her face and she stubbornly wipes them away. I want so badly to wrap my arms around her. It’s killing me that she won’t let me. “Savannah, I’m so sorry. I meant to pull out, I did, but then you—”
My lips mash into a thin line to keep from saying any more. This is not her fault, it’s mine, and there’s no use pointing fingers. What’s done is done. We just have to decide what to do next.
“I’ll go out right now and get you the morning after pill, okay? I’ll take care of it, and it’ll be like it never happened. Just don’t. . .” I swallow the lump in my throat, watching her tears come faster. Why doesn’t she look relieved? “Don’t shut me out because of this. Talk to me. Please.”
Every second she’s not in my arms is pure torture. She still won’t look at me. I need to feel her skin against mine and look into those quicksilver eyes that are pure f*cking magic. They’re the only eyes on the planet that can make my heart skip a beat with a single look.
That might sound kinda lame and I’m sure my bro card would be revoked if I ever admitted it out loud, but it’s true, and right now I need to feel that. I need to know we’re okay.
“That’s not—” Biting her lip, she looks off to the side and shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she says, pushing past me as she heads for the bathroom. “I just want to be left alone, okay?” She walks into the dark bathroom and starts to close the door.
It’s symbolic. I feel like she’s closing the door on us, and it’s got my heart racing as my fists clench. I’m in fight or flight mode, and I never choose flight.
Stepping forward, my voice is low and clear as I tell her, “No, it’s not o-f*cking-kay. You close that goddamn door and I’m gonna break it down.”
The door stops, but she’s hidden on the other side. I rest my hands on the doorframe, touching my head to the cool wood. “You know I can’t leave you alone, not after what just happened. You were fine until. . .”
Wait, was she fine? I couldn’t see her face, I could only hear her gasps and cries. In the heat of the moment they sounded good, but if that was the case, then why is she shutting down on me?
I didn’t think I was being too rough. In fact, I was kind of holding back. But Savannah might not see it that way.
Grimacing at the thought, I rub my hand over my chest. It suddenly feels like it got cracked in two. “Did I. . . Did I hurt you?”
I hear a sniffle, then, “No.”
She’s lying.
My eyes screw shut, my voice thick with emotion as I say, “F*ck, Savannah, why didn’t you say something?”
“You didn’t hurt me.” Her voice wavers. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. You don’t f*cking cry like that when you’re fine.”
“Declan—”
“No.” I push open the door and slip inside the bathroom. Savannah’s standing against the wall, gripping the doorknob, as light from the window filters in to the dim space. It’s just enough to see the left side of her body and her tear-stained face. Leaning against the countertop, I fold my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to let you get out of this. You’re always running away from me, and I’m not gonna let you do it this time. F*cking talk to me, Savannah.”
“I don’t want to!”
Her shout seems to echo in the quiet space, and the sudden outburst makes me flinch. She hiccups on a sob and wipes her face, saying almost inaudibly, “I don’t want you to know.”
My throat closes up at the pain and panic etched onto her face as dread settles like a heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know what’s wrong, but it’s bad—really f*cking bad, and I’m terrified to find out what it is. For a moment all I can hear is the pounding of my heart as I slowly ask her, “Don’t want me to know what?”
Her lip quivers as her eyes burn into me, pleading with me. “Just let it go. Please, Declan, I’m begging you, just let it go.”
“You’re scaring me.” I take a step toward her, reaching up to wipe away her tears. She turns her head until I’m looking at her profile. A drop of moisture hits the trembling bottom lip she’s biting. It has my own eyes stinging as my heart breaks. “Let me touch you,” I beg, my voice strained. “Please. You have no idea how much it hurts that you’re not letting me.” I feel it on a soul-deep level, I swear. It’s like a dull ache that just won’t ease.                    
Her eyes clamp shut, making more tears spill down her ruddy cheeks.
I can’t f*cking take it anymore. I pull her to me and wrap my arms around her, thankful that she doesn’t try to push me off this time. A sob shakes her as I hold her as close to me as I can without cutting off her air supply. My hands skim her back, over the softest skin I’ve ever had the privilege of touching, while my eyes squeeze shut and I bury my face in her neck. I inhale her strawberry scented skin and hair greedily, like a drowning man who’s just come up for air.
“I love you. Nothing you tell me can change that, you hear? Nothing.”
She shakes her head and pulls back. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what I did.”
“Were you with someone else?” She said she hadn’t been, but even if she had, it wouldn’t change the way I feel. It’d just break my f*cking heart.
She frowns as I wipe away her tears. “No. I told you I haven’t been.”
“Good. I haven’t either.” Cupping her face in my hands, I kiss her forehead. “Now tell me why you’re crying, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m in it, Savannah.”
She shakes her head again. “I can’t. You’ll think I’m disgusting. You won’t want me anymore, I know it.”
“That could never happen. Now tell me what’s wrong.” My mind’s coming up with all these terrible scenarios and the harder she fights this, the worse it gets.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, she says, “Remember our first date? You thought I told you the worst things in my life to scare you off, and I said. . .”
“You said those weren’t the worst things,” I say numbly, my hands falling away from her as I remember our conversation.
The floor seems to tilt under me as I register the somber look on her face. It says everything I need to know, but some masochistic part of me still needs to hear her say it.
My lungs don’t seem to want to work, and my feet don’t seem to be able to move. Dazed, I blink slowly, almost imperceptibly, and catalogue every godforsaken breath that leaves me and every beat my stubborn heart insists on pumping, because I know they’re going to be my last. What Savannah is about to tell me will kill me, I’m sure of it.
“It was the last foster home I was in. The one who kicked me out when I turned eighteen.”
I don’t want to hear anymore. I can’t. I don’t think my psyche can handle it.
Clenching my jaw, I try to brace myself. It’s useless, I know. There’s no preparing yourself for something like this.
“The husband, he— he promised I could stay and finish out my senior year as long as I . . . did things for him.”
My eyes close as I fight through the all-consuming rage I feel seeping into every cell in my body. “What kinds of things?” I ask, very slowly and deliberately.
She shakes her head once more, biting her lip so hard she leaves teeth marks. “Declan, please.”
I swallow as my fists clench and release. “Tell me. I need to hear it.”
Licking her lips, she folds her arms over her chest. “It started off as pictures. He’d take me down to the basement with him, where I’d take off my clothes and he’d . . . tell me how to pose. But after a while, that wasn’t enough. He had to touch me, too.”
Her words punch a hole straight through my chest, and I’m left to bleed out while I struggle for breath. “Did he rape you?”
A single tear drips down her cheek as she looks away. “It’s not rape if I agreed to it.”
My chest heaves as I stare at her, but I don’t think I’m truly breathing. It feels like I’m suffocating. “The f*ck it’s not! He blackmailed you, Savannah. Jesus, you were seventeen! That alone is statutory rape.”
White-hot anger burns through me, singeing everything in its path and leaving harrowing sorrow in its wake. Something vital in me just died. I think it was what little innocence I had left.
I’m going to kill him. As God as my witness, I will track him down and I will end him.
Savannah shakes her head emphatically. “It wasn’t rape. It couldn’t have been. I—”
She cuts herself off abruptly and looks down at the floor.
“You what?” I ask, afraid to hear any more.
Her voice is tiny as she says, “I didn’t say no. I was young and stupid, and I honestly thought he’d keep his end of the deal. So every time he bent me over the couch and held me down, I let him.”
Bile rises as the image she’s just painted sears into my brain. Then I realize how eerily similar it is to the way I just took her, and I try to breathe through the overwhelming urge to empty the contents of my stomach all over the floor.
That’s what set her off. I f*cking pinned her down and took her from behind just like that monster.
My fingers run through my hair, fisting it, as tears blur my vision. Why didn’t she tell me to stop? Why did she let me do that? I need to know, but the aching tightness in my throat won’t let me speak.
The only thing that crossed my mind as I pushed into Savannah was how right it felt. I wasn’t worried about all the scary shit that can happen when you don’t use protection. And I might’ve been rough, but I was never disrespectful. Every thrust and touch was done with love and the best of intentions, but that sick son of a bitch ruined it, because now I can’t think about it without going to some dark, twisted place.
Everything we just shared is tainted.
Savannah sniffles and wipes her nose, looking at anything but me. “It only happened a few times. He’d make me watch porn while he . . . touched me.” She hiccups on a shuddering breath. “It was gentle at first. He wouldn’t get rough until the actual sex. H-he wanted me to respond. I tried not to, I did. It was humiliating having to watch that while he—” She shakes her head, pressing her lips together. “I hated what he was doing to me. I kept waiting for my body to shut down, like it does in the movies, you know? But it didn’t. It’s like it had the opposite effect. All my senses were heightened and my body . . . it didn’t seem to get the memo that I was being traumatized, because I was. . .” She shakes as a sob leaves her, and the horrifying realization washes over me just before she says it.
“I was wet.” Her eyes pinch shut. “One time I even came.”
Oh, God. My heart splinters into millions of spider-webbed fissures. She looks so disgusted with herself that my heart would break all over again if there was anything left.
“So it wasn’t rape. It couldn’t have been.” She tries to steel herself, but I’m not buying it, not for a second.
Lifting her chin, I lock eyes with her. I need her to believe every single word I’m about to say is heartfelt and done with total conviction. “You can’t control your body’s reactions to things. It’s not like you can turn off your nerve endings. If some guy came in here, tied me up, and started playing with my junk, I’d probably get hard. I sure as f*ck wouldn’t want to, but stimulation is stimulation, regardless of the circumstances. You can’t tell your body not to feel something that’s being done to it, so don’t for one second think that your response makes what that sick f*ck did to you all right. It doesn’t. It doesn’t justify shit. That motherf*cker took advantage of you.” The muscle along my jaw tenses as I brush her hair back. “Please tell me you put his ass in jail for what he did.”
Savannah drops her gaze. “He said no one would believe me. He said—” She chokes up as her faces twists into a heartbreaking expression. “He said that on some level I must’ve wanted it, since I got so wet.” She wipes her nose, inhaling a shaky breath. “He always wore a condom, anyway. All an exam would prove was that I had sex. With no visible signs of being forced and none of his DNA, they wouldn’t be able to pin anything on him. He said all it would prove was that I’m a slut.”
“You are not a slut.”
When she doesn’t acknowledge what I’ve said, I force her to look up at me once more. “You’re not. Don’t let him get into your head and make you think less of yourself for something that he did. You were just a kid, for f*ck’s sake.” Anger, disgust, and sadness well up inside me as I stare down at her beautiful tear-stained face. How could anybody hurt someone else like this?
Growing up, you’re told over and over that monsters aren’t real, but that’s bullshit. They’re real, they just don’t look like the snarling, fanged, horned versions we conjured up as kids. Real monsters are more insidious. Real monsters pass themselves off as neighbors, spouses, or even members of your church. It’s downright scary to think of what some people are capable of, and the more I think about what happened to Savannah, the more I need to break something.
She should’ve been protected from creeps like that. Someone should’ve been watching out for her. The system should not have failed her so spectacularly.
My hands clench into fists as I fight to keep from putting a hole through the wall. “So help me God if that piece of shit’s still walking around as a free man. . .”
She shakes her head and swallows. “He’s not. He died a few weeks after I moved out. Freak accident at some construction site he was working on. It was all over the news.” Sniffling, she wipes her nose. “I guess karma really is a bitch, huh?”
Her mouth twitches into a half-hearted smile, and it gives me hope. There’s the feisty girl I know and love.
Pulling her to me, I wrap my arms around her. She nuzzles my chest, sniffling as she says, “I don’t deserve you.”
“Nonsense.” I kiss the top of her head and wipe away the rest of her tears. “Let’s go home, okay?”
“Home?”
“Yeah, home. Our home. I hate to break it to you, but I’m not letting you get out of this that easily.” My hand cradles the side of her face as my thumb strokes her cheek. “Remember what I said? No matter how fast you run, I’ll always be right behind you.”
She places her hand over mine, closing her eyes as she absorbs my touch. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

? ? ?
After I put my phone on vibrate and set it on my nightstand, I check on Savannah. She’s sitting in the tubful of water with her knees drawn to her chest, her hair piled high in a clip, and my eyes instinctually take in all the smooth, pale skin before me. I feel like a dick for noticing her nakedness at all, especially at a time like this, but I can’t help it.
I have two functioning eyes and a penis. I blame them.
Turning off the water, I close the lid on the toilet and sit on it, resting my elbows on my knees. Savannah drapes her arms around her legs and rests her chin on her shoulder as a weak smile touches her lips. “Hi.”
I’m so ridiculously glad she can smile at all after the shit she’s been through. My girl is so f*cking strong. Pride swells in my chest as I stare down at her, and no matter how much I might abhor the thought of her physically fighting some other girl, I have faith that she’s going to do just fine.
My girl’s a born fighter, in every sense of the word.
“Hi,” I say, smiling back. It’s small, but genuine, and that’s a good step. Twenty minutes ago, I was sure I’d never smile again.
She looks at me quizzically when I stand and start to shrug out of my jeans, then she glances around her. “I don’t think there’s room for both of us.”
“That’s not what I had in mind,” I say, leaving my boxers on as I shuck off my jeans. I grab a washcloth off the towel rack and her body wash from the shower caddy.
“Can you use yours instead?”
Her shy voice has me pausing and looking down at her. Savannah shrugs and says, “It smells like you. It’s comforting.”
Geez, right in the feels. Have I mentioned how much I love, love, love this girl?
I put her body wash back and grab mine instead. “Turn around,” I say, waiting until her back is to me before I step into the warm water and sit down on the bathtub’s ledge.
I dunk the washcloth in the water and gently wet her back with it, then her shoulders. Squirting some soap onto the washcloth, I lather it up and start cleaning her.
She makes a satisfied humming sound as I work, closing her eyes as she leans her head forward. When she’s nice and soapy, I set the washcloth aside and use my hands instead, gliding over the soft, creamy skin beneath my fingers.
“I used this sometimes when we weren’t talking. It made me feel close to you, even though we were anything but.” She leans her head back and looks up at me. “Is that weird?”
Kissing her forehead, I run my hands down her arms. “Do you think it’s weird that I used your shampoo? Because I did. I might’ve even jacked off once or twice in the shower while smelling it and thinking of you.”
Her smile widens. “That last part’s a little weird, but also kinda sweet.”
“Weirdly sweet is what I aim for.”
Picking up the washcloth, I finish cleaning her back and arms, even getting up in her armpits. She squeals with laughter, splashing water everywhere as she tries to get away from me. My only response is that I need to be thorough. When her back’s all rinsed off, I tell her to stand up and face me.
My eyes wander over her naked body, glistening with water as it drips down her. She’s put on some muscle since she’s started training with Marcus, and she looks good. Damn good. There’s not a single thing I see that’s less than absolute perfection.
Swallowing, I drop my eyes to the washcloth in my hand.
I want her. After everything I’ve learned tonight, and I still want her. I always will.
Part of me feels like I shouldn’t, like it’s not appropriate to have these thoughts and urges about someone who’s been through what she has. . .
I don’t know. I don’t know what to think right now.
Clearing my throat, I scoot back and tap the sliver of ledge peeking out between my thighs. “Put your foot here.”
I wash her legs one at a time, pausing momentarily when I get to the upper part of her inner thighs. There’s still evidence of our previous activity in small, dried-on patches that haven’t quite come off in the water. Seeing it is like getting shot in the heart. I hate that something so significant happened under what I now consider ugly, tainted circumstances.
“Sorry,” I say, glancing up at her apologetically before gently scrubbing her clean.
She threads her fingers in my hair as I make a careful pass between her legs with the washcloth. “It’s not your fault. I told you not to stop,” she says, lazily playing with my hair. “At the time, I honestly didn’t care whether you came in me or not, so long as you didn’t stop.”
Setting her foot back in the water, I continue washing up her front. “You cared before. Do you care now?”
She shrugs. “My period’s supposed to start within the next day or two, so I shouldn’t be able to get pregnant now. I just didn’t want to take any chances, you know?”
“Do you regret it?” I ask, stealing a quick glance at her face while I wash her stomach. I don’t think I can bear to see her expression if she says yes, so I look back to the stretch of skin in front of me. It’s safer.
Savannah’s hands slip from my hair down to under my chin, tilting it up until I meet her eyes. “Not for a second,” she says. “Do you?”
I shrug and let my hands fall to her hips. “I don’t like the way it happened, but I like that it did.”
She slips her fingers back into my hair, making a little sigh of contentment leave me as I pull her close and touch my head to her stomach. “I’ve never let anyone do that before,” she says softly.
I kiss the spot just above her navel. “I’ve never done that to anyone before.”
“Good.” She twirls a lock of my hair around her finger. “I like that we’re each other’s firsts.”
It doesn’t escape my attention that she can’t seem to stop touching me, but I don’t mind, not in the slightest. Maybe she needs the affection as much as I do right now.

Leaning against Savannah’s doorframe, I watch her slip on a pair of panties. It’s the only article of clothing she has on as she digs through the top drawer of her dresser.
“Are you enjoying the view?” she asks, smiling bashfully as she glances up at me and my unwavering stare.
“Very much so.”
Her face turns the prettiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen. It’s even creeping down her slender neck, and I feel a tad disappointed when it disappears under the collar of the oversized shirt she’s just put on.
It occurs to me then that her reaction could mean something else entirely. Something darker that I never would’ve guessed before tonight. Frowning, I ask, “Does it make you uncomfortable when I say stuff like that? Do you want me to stop?”
Since the beginning, I’ve been very forward with Savannah. I’ve said blunt, crass things and I’ve never been good at keeping my hands off her. If I knew then what I know now. . . Yeah, I would’ve done things differently.
Don’t get me wrong, I still would’ve done them, I just would’ve been more delicate about it.
She looks down and closes the drawer. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”
“It doesn’t?” Doubt laces my tone as she shakes her head and steps closer, taking a deep breath as her eyes flick from my chest to my eyes. It looks like she’s trying to work up the courage to say something, and I instinctively brace myself.
“When you say stuff like that . . . it makes my stomach do funny things and it throws my heart off track. I like that feeling. I think I’m addicted to that feeling.”
Tentatively, she reaches out and grazes my fingers. She’s obviously not completely comfortable initiating affection yet, but it’s also obvious that she’s trying. For me. I twine our fingers together, keeping my gaze on hers as I bring our joined hands up to my mouth.
She smiles as I kiss the back of her hand and says, “You’re the only one who can make me feel that way, so you can’t stop, okay?”
I don’t want to say or do the wrong thing. I don’t want to trigger some horrible memory for her, but how do I keep from doing that when I don’t know where her boundaries lie? She clearly can’t be trusted to tell me until after the fact, but by then the damage has already been done.
“Okay,” I say after a beat. “Just promise me that if I say or do something to . . . set you off, you won’t wait to tell me, because I—” Because I suddenly don’t know how to act around you, and I’m second-guessing everything I ever said or did.“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me.” At least that’s what I think she says as she wraps her arms around me and nuzzles her face against my chest.
Resting my chin atop her head, I stroke her hair. My mind won’t shut off. It’s still going a mile a minute, and it keeps coming back to something I just don’t understand. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop? Why did you let me. . .” My hand falters as the words leave me so quietly, I’m not even sure I said them.
Savannah pulls back and bites her lip. She glances at me quickly before saying, “You wanted to, and I wanted you. I’ll take you any way I can get you, even if at times it reminded me of . . . you know.”
My whole body goes rigid. “What the hell, Savannah? You didn’t have to put yourself through that. I would’ve stopped in a heartbeat if you’d just said the word. I never want to do something that you’re not totally comfortable with.”
Frowning, she crosses her arms. “I might not have been totally comfortable, but I trusted you enough to do it and that’s a big deal for me. Ever since—him—I’ve been on top every time I’ve had sex. I never trusted anyone else to be in control, but I trust you. And yes, I did it because you wanted to, but I also did it because I wanted to—because I wanted to see if I could. I don’t want him to have this power over me. I want to be normal, I want—” She huffs out a frustrated breath as tears shine in her eyes. “I refuse to let this define me.”
I run my hands up and down her arms. “I get that. I totally get that. But a warning would’ve been nice before we went down that road. You wouldn’t even let me touch you afterward, and with all the crying, I thought. . . Jesus, I thought I hurt you.”
She laughs bitterly and wipes away a stray tear. “You didn’t hurt me. I—” Swallowing, she says, “I liked it.” Her face screws tight with disgust. “God, that’s messed up, isn’t it? I shouldn’t like something that was so familiar to. . .” She shakes her head and wipes away more tears. “I never liked it with him, I swear it. But with you. . .” She shrugs.
I pull her back to me and wrap my arms around her shoulders. “It’s not messed up. Nothing we do will ever be dirty or wrong, because there’s love there. That’s why you liked it. It was safe. I’m safe, and you have to know that, otherwise you wouldn’t trust me.”
I hold her for a bit, wondering something, but afraid to ask. If the answer’s yes, I’m afraid what I might do. But I need to know. If there’s a silver lining somewhere in this clusterf*ck, I need to know.
Clamping my eyes shut, I draw in a deep breath, then let it go. “Were you a virgin?”
She shakes her head against me. “No. He didn’t take that from me, too.”
I thought that would make me feel a little better, but it doesn’t. It still feels like I got kneed in the balls.
After another few seconds, she says, “You don’t see me differently now? You don’t think I’m . . . gross?”
Scowling into her hair, I say, “You’re not gross.”
I want to say I don’t see her differently, but it’s not true. I do see her differently, because tonight shed some much needed light on how Savannah became Savannah. There are so many things that make sense now.
Her distrust of men and how she doesn’t think they’re capable of sticking around. Her warped self-image as nothing more than a slut. . .
No wonder she didn’t believe me when I said I wanted more than sex. Every other guy she’s been with only wanted an easy lay. It’s almost like she seeks these kinds of a*sholes out. Whether it’s conscious or not, I don’t know, but it’s kind of like a self-fulfilling prophecy.
That piece of shit drilled it into her head that she was a whore for what he did to her, and now casual sex is all she’s comfortable with because it’s all she knows. She’s scared of anything real and meaningful, and I think it’s because deep down, she doesn’t think she deserves it.
Well, it’s f*cking bullshit. All of it. She’s not damaged goods. She may be cracked, and those fissures may run deeper than I realized, but she’s not broken.
And really, who doesn’t have a few cracks in them? It’s what you do with them that matters. 
Sighing, I say, “I see what we did differently. If I’d known then, I wouldn’t have done it that way.” Pulling back, I wipe her face one last time. Her eyes are starting to get puffy from all her crying, and she looks exhausted. I lean in and kiss her head. “Are you ready to go to bed?”
She nods and moves her hands away from my hips, but I catch them in mine, knotting our fingers together. “Sleep with me tonight?”
Surprise flits across her face, but I lead her back to my room before she actually has a chance to say anything.
I turn off the lights as we walk in, using the light from the bathroom as a guide. Yanking the covers back, I help her climb in, then slide in behind her and pull them over us.
I lie on my back and hold out my arm. She looks at my invitation skeptically at first, then slowly inches her way over to me until she’s resting her head on my chest. There’s still a good half foot of space between our bodies, and that just won’t do. I’m greedy. I want all of her. So I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her flush against me. She’s awkward and stiff beside me for a second before she melts into my side.
My fingers dip under the hem of her shirt, grazing the side of her hip as my nose skims her hair. There’s still a trace of her shampoo, but the majority of her scent is mine. I never thought I could be so turned on by someone who smells like Axe body wash, but here we are.
Savannah idly traces patterns on my chest. “This is nice,” she says, tilting her head back to look up at me.
“I know. I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Her brows furrow as she looks away. “I was scared. Of this. Of us. Of you.”
“But you’re not anymore?”
A wry grin tilts the side of her mouth. “No, I’m still scared shitless.” She shrugs and says, “I was scared of letting you in. Now that you are, I’m terrified of losing you.”
The hand that’s not wrapped around her lifts her chin, until her eyes are on mine again. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right? Neither are you. I don’t want to hear anything ever again about you moving out. You’re not going anywhere. I’ll block the door and play keep-away with your keys if I have to.”
“That was a dick move tonight, by the way.” She rolls her eyes and playfully punches me in the stomach. It’s still hard enough that the air in my lungs gushes out of me in an oompf.
You know what else is hard? Trying to replenish the air in my lungs while laughing. It’s damn near impossible.
When I can finally breathe, I roll onto my side and face her, propping myself up on my elbow like she is. “I wasn’t trying to be a dick, I was just trying to get you to talk to me for five seconds. I missed you. I was ready to call a truce. Shit, I would’ve gotten down on my hands and knees and begged you if that’s what it took, but then you said—”
Then you said your underwear was for someone else when I jokingly asked if it was for me.
My fingers play with the ends of her hair as I remember her saying that. She only said it to hurt me, and it did. It was f*cking brutal.
At the memory, my chest aches. My heart was like Humpty Dumpty tonight, getting broken and put back together repeatedly.
It’s still missing some pieces, though. Probably always will be.
“I’m sorry I said I’m not your Kitten anymore. I love that nickname. I missed that nickname, and when I heard it tonight. . .” She shrugs, her mouth turning down in remorse. “It hurt.”
She loves it? I didn’t know that. Is there a step between “tolerate” and “like”? Because that’s how I thought she felt about it.
Her eyes flicker before she looks down. “I said some really shitty things tonight and I didn’t mean them.” She places her palm over my heart, making the damn thing speed up. Gray eyes meet mine as she says, “I do want this, I just don’t know how to take care of it. . .”
Leaning in, I kiss along her jaw. “I’ll let you in on a little secret: I don’t know what I’m doing, either.” I pull back, seeing the faintest smile on her face. “This is all just as new to me, but we’ll figure it out together, okay?”
“Are you sure? I’m—” She swallows and inspects the ends of her hair. “I’m really f*cked up. It’ll take a lot of work and patience to be with me, and I won’t blame you if you want out. But if you stay. . .” She sucks in a quick breath and steals a glance up at me. “You have to stay forever. I know I’m asking a lot—”
My mouth is on hers before she can finish that thought. Her lips mold to mine as I absorb her startled sounds, and when our tongues touch, they quiet altogether.
I kiss her softly, slowly at first, just content to explore her mouth with light presses of our lips and gentle sweeps of our tangled tongues. But then our breathing speeds, and slow and soft turns into a desperate, frenzied mix of lips and limbs.
My hand grips her hip as she throws a leg over my waist, aligning and pressing all the best body parts together. I’m about two seconds away from rolling her onto her back and climbing on top of her when her earlier words pierce through my lust-addled brain.
She’s not used to being on bottom.
The reminder is like being doused with ice cold water.
Breathing heavily, I pull back, keeping my forehead pressed to hers. I hadn’t meant this to get so out of control, honestly. I was going somewhere with this.
When I can find my voice, I lean farther back and brush a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “You’re not asking for anything. You’re offering me the greatest gift I could ever imagine, and right now I’m wondering what the hell I did right in this life to deserve it.” My thumb brushes her bottom lip as I cradle her jaw. “But one thing I know for sure? I am hands down the luckiest son of a bitch to ever walk this earth, because I get to do it with you by my side.”
Savannah squeezes her eyes shut and falls onto her back. A smile slowly curls her mouth as she lays her hand over her chest and taps it. “Stomach flip. Crazy heart.”
I swear her eyes f*cking sparkle when she looks at me again. The joy emanating off her is contagious and has me grinning a big, goofy smile.
“Flippin’ crazy, huh?” I wipe away a tear as it slips down the side of her face. “I think I like making you do that.”
She buries herself into my side, nuzzling her face against my neck. “Me, too.”
And then we just lie there for what feels like forever. I stroke every available surface of skin—her arm, her hip, her back—while staring down the length of our entwined bodies. Her arm and leg are both draped over me, as her head slowly rises and falls with my breaths.
Just when I think she’s fallen asleep, she murmurs, “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask, my voice sounding gruff from not being used for a while.
“For not telling me you’re sorry about what happened to me.”
I am, though. I’m so f*cking sorry this happened to her.
Instead of saying that, I hug her closer to me. Sometimes words aren’t enough.
Another few minutes pass before her sleepy, slurred voice says, “Declan?”
“Hmm?”
“I think I love you.”
My whole body freezes, and when Savannah doesn’t say anything else, I lift my head. Her eyes are closed and her breaths are deep and even.
As I wait for my heart to restart, I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I know you do, Kitten.” I just didn’t know whether or not she realized it yet.