“We went to his house, and I roughed him up. He pushed me into losing my temper and I held a knife to his throat.”
“You didn’t…” She sobbed, grabbing me tightly, like she was afraid I was gonna be dragged away from her. “I wanted to, so fucking badly. It would be over then, and you wouldn’t be afraid anymore. But you’d lose me too, and I couldn’t have that. So I didn’t. We’re gonna get a restraining order, and I’ve warned him what will happen if he comes back. Don’t think he’ll listen, but if he likes being my punching bag, then I’m happy to keep my fist well exercised.”
She closed her eyes, rested her head against my bicep, and sobbed some more.
Grabbing her, I hauled her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her. “Shit, I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry. Sorry for leaving you when you needed me, sorry for not being there in the first place. I didn’t think you’d want me to kill Frank but I can’t have you living in fear. Tell me if I did the wrong thing?” I begged earnestly. She was my fucking compass, and I needed to know what she was thinking. When she finally stopped crying, she wiped away her tears and held my face between her damp hands.
“You’re a good man, O’Connell. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel any different. You did the right thing not killing him. I don’t want that. I don’t care about Frank. I care about you, and I don’t want you to have to live with that. But I don’t want any life that doesn’t have you in it either. One day he’s going to mess up and land himself back in prison. But from now on, we put all this shit behind us. We have an amazing life ahead of us, and I want to start living it. Okay?” she told me.
“Okay, baby. We’ll be careful. I need to make sure you’re protected, but we look forward and not back.”
She gave me a wobbly smile as she turned her back on the last few shit-filled months. Looking at that gorgeous face, her cheeks soft from the tears, I couldn’t help moving in for a kiss. I should have known that once would never be enough. Her lips parted slightly on a gasp and I thrust my tongue into her mouth, her sweet taste making me even harder.
Weeks of not being able to make love to her came crashing over me. I wanted her everywhere. In me, over me, under me. I wanted her so fucking badly I could barely see straight. Running my hands up her silky thighs, I could feel the heat of her core long before my fingers reached their destination. I pulled one leg to wrap around my waist, leaving a gap in her shorts just big enough for me to slide my big fingers through her crease into her core. She cried out, her spine rigid, as she clenched and tightened around me. Needing both my hands I stripped her to expose her fucking gorgeous breasts. Her nipples puckered expectantly, and I lifted one breast to my mouth, sucking at the nub as she twisted and moaned at my touch.
“No, we can’t,” she groaned as she arched her back to bring her body closer to my mouth. “The ban,” she said on an exhale.
“Fuck the ban,” I told her. I focused my attention on her neglected breast while moving my finger up inside her. She struggled to talk, and I knew she wanted to argue with me so I moved it in and out of her slowly. Her body knew what it needed, and her hips moved to ride me. I want to be buried deep inside her so fucking badly but patience and discipline made me wait. After all the shit I’d put her through, I needed to make her feel good before I came.
“No, really. We can’t. You have the biggest fight of your career in a few weeks. I can’t jinx it,” she protested, pulling away from my kiss. I moved my hand away from her again and gripped her hips tightly as I bent to rest my forehead between her breasts. Danny had made her so fucking superstitious about this stupid sex ban. It was all bullshit, of course. She was all the motivation I needed to beat this guy, but if there was one thing I knew about Em, it was how stubborn she was when she made up her mind about something.
“You’re going to fucking kill me. You know that, right?” I told her.
“I’m pretty sure that no one ever died from blue balls,” she giggled.
“They have. It’s just that the victims’ families’ are ashamed of it so they tell people it was a ‘heart attack’ or some shit like that.”
“Well, if you do die of blue balls in the night, I promise I’ll tell people the truth, maybe set up a blue balls support group,” she joked.
“I can show you lots of ways to support my blue balls,” I told her as I nibbled at the corner of her mouth. Working my way down her jaw, I buried my head into the crook of her neck and inhaled, the scent of vanilla making me even harder. A thought occurred to me, and I braced myself up on my forearms to look into her eyes.