by Sam Crescent
“You made this for me?”
“Who else would I cook for? I wanted you to have something to look forward to, and yet you’re acting like I did something wrong. I just wanted to do something nice for you.” She stopped talking to suck in her lips. Her emotions were running away with her. “Forget about it. I won’t invade your kitchen again.”
He cursed. “I mess up all the time. I don’t care about you using my kitchen. What you’re cooking, it smells amazing. Your ribs are not better, and I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”
“I’m feeling better.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to go back a step. The reason you’re here is because of me.”
She frowned. “No, it’s not. I’m here because some asshole used me as a punching bag. It’s not your fault.” Over the last couple of days she’d come to realize that Henry wasn’t like how she thought he was. There was so much more to him than being a crude man who was gun happy.
He tilted her head back, stroking his thumb across the fading lines of her bruise. The pain in his eyes was so clear to see that he took her breath away. “Every time I look at you and I see these I’m reminded that those bastards are still out there.”
Lydia gripped his hand. “Don’t do that, Henry. You’ll get them when it’s time. You don’t need to rush to find them for me.”
“I promised you I’d kill them.”
She’d been surprised when she hadn’t developed nightmares the first night she was here. Any time she got scared she would wake and think about Henry and all of her problems would fade away.
“I believe you.”
“You’re not afraid?”
“Of you? No, I’m not afraid.” She licked her lips then glanced down to stare at his lips. What would it feel like for him to kiss her?
“You’ve changed since last time?”
“A lot more is going on now. I wasn’t afraid of you last time. I didn’t know you. I don’t know you now, but what I do know is you won’t hurt me.” She reached out to touch his scarred cheek. He didn’t pull away from her, and she traced the outline of the mark on his skin. “This tells me a story. It’s not a nice story or an easy one, but there’s more to you than meets the eye, Henry.”
“What are you doing to me?” he asked.
She released his cheek and covered his hand that held her face. “The exact same thing you’re doing to me.” Lydia dropped his hand down to her breast. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t stop what she wanted. She wanted to have his hands all over her body, to feel what he was doing to her. He cupped her breast, and she released a breath. “This is what you do to me every time we’re together. I can’t stop thinking about you.” This was the first time she’d ever put herself out there with a man. She never allowed herself to get too close. Most of the men she’d been with had used her for sex and money. Darren had only used her because she’d been convenient as she had a place to stay. God, when was she going to stop falling for losers who only wanted her for what she could give them?
Stepping back, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
With her humiliation complete she wanted to do nothing more than go and hide underneath a rock.
“No.” He caught her hand and eased her back against him. She stared up into his eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“What I’ve been imagining for so damn long. I can’t go another second until I know exactly how you taste.” He dropped his head toward hers, and before she could stop him, his lips were on hers.
She moaned at the harsh feel of his thin lips against hers. There was nothing gentle in his kiss, yet it was something she craved. Sinking her fingers into his hair, she ignored the pain and wrapped both of her arms around his neck. This lust struck her hard whenever she was with him.
When she first saw him she’d been dancing with Darren. Henry had been in the VIP section of Ecstasy, but she’d seen him. Even from the distance, he’d pulled her attention. The man she’d been with was nothing like the scarred man sitting in the VIP section.
Even as he shot Darren, he’d not scared her. The situation scared her, not Henry.
His hands moved down to her waist, picking her up and placing her on the cleanest counter in his kitchen. She opened her legs wide so he’d have somewhere to sit between.
“Fuck, I can’t get you out of my head.” He broke the kiss only to press his lips down to her neck. “You always smell like lavender. I can’t get the scent out of my head.” She heard him inhale then exhale. “I could become addicted to your smell. So fucking addicted.”
“You want me?”
“I’ve been trying not to want you for so damn long. I don’t know what’s real anymore.” He drew back to stare back at her. She lost herself, cupping his cheeks as he stayed still. “What’s this?”
“I want you, Henry. I just never knew how to tell you.”
His hands moved up her ribs, and she couldn’t help but wince from the pressure.
“Fuck, I completely forgot that you’re hurt.” He stepped back, stopping touching her instantly.
“I liked what we did.” She hated the moment he stopped touching her. “I want to do it again.”
“No, not until you’re better. I can’t—I’ve never been gentle, Lydia. I can’t be what you want right now.”
She nodded, licking her lips. He didn’t realize how gentle he could be.
“I want to be something more to you. Could you get me down?”
His hands went under her ass, gripping her flesh as she lowered her back to the floor. The feel of his hands on her ass sent her pulse racing further.
“You’re going to be a hell of a lot more to me.” He tilted her head back. “You need to think about this long and hard, Lydia. Once I take you, you’re mine. There’s no backing down or pulling away. You’ll be mine.”
The ownership in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine. There was a hell of a lot more to Henry than he let anyone see.
“I want that, Henry.” She’d never belonged to anyone in her life, and she wanted to belong to him.
He cupped the back of her neck. “You’ll be mine. No hotel, no boys that are friends. You’ll be mine.”
She smiled. “It doesn’t matter how many times you say it, Henry. I want to be yours. Truly, believe me when I say I want to be yours.” She pressed a hand to his chest.
Henry stroked the back of her neck. The touch sent tingles throughout her body.
“Now, can I serve you some food, or are you going to keep being pissed at me? It’ll be good. I promise.”
“Feed me, woman.”
Chapter Seven
Two weeks later
The last two weeks had been out of this world for Henry. He couldn’t believe how happy he was and yet he’d not sexually touched Lydia, but that could all change within the next couple of hours. The doctor was scheduled to see her while he was out of the apartment. He stood in Elijah’s warehouse with Caleb as they waited for Drake to spill the details of where the men were that Henry wanted.
They were leaving Elijah to torture the information out of him, but so far the bastard wasn’t talking. He was either high or had a seriously high pain threshold.
“Donna wants you to come around to dinner,” Caleb said.
“Not tonight. Lydia’s seeing the doctor and I want to be alone with her.”
“It’s true then, you’re going steady with a woman?”
Henry turned to look at his friend.
“The women at Ecstasy are talking. It has been over three weeks since you were last there, and every time you’re at the club you never go near the back. I take it Lydia’s taking care of your needs.”
He smiled. “She’s not. She’s not taking care of anything.” He still found his release in the shower by his own hand. She’d offered to help him out when she caught him fucking his fist. Henry refused. He didn’t want her to touch him when he couldn’t touch her.
“Wow, this mus
t be a nice new change for you,” Caleb said.
“It is.”
“You look different. Donna mentioned it to me the other day.”
“What do you mean?” Henry asked, glancing over at his friend.
The sound of Drake crying out filled the air¸ but it didn’t stop either of them talking. Drake wasn’t going to leave the warehouse alive. He’d been sloppy in his security. Usually Drake was surrounded by several large men carrying guns even when he was dealing with his women. For once Elijah’s people had caught him alone, without anyone to help him.
“You’re smiling. I’ve got to agree with her. This is how you used to be before the fighting and we got into this business. You know, before you were taken.”
Henry folded his arms. Thinking about the time when he was taken wasn’t the best for him. It was around the same time that he stopped going back to his apartment. The scarred face made it impossible for him to get away from the past. When he was around Lydia, he wasn’t aware of the scars on his face.
“It’s nothing.”
“But Lydia’s different. I see the man you once were. There’s no way you can deny that.”
Drake screamed as Elijah pulled out a nail. They were going back to historical torture methods. Henry had to respect the man.
“I’m not denying anything, Caleb. She makes me feel, and I like that.”
“What about the other women?”
“They’re done.”
“Donna’s worried.”
“Have you turned into a pussy that answers to your woman, Caleb? Funny, you didn’t strike me as the kind of man who took orders from a woman.” Henry hated feeling like he was being observed under a microscope, and so far, Caleb and Donna were leaving him feel like a bug.
He turned to look at Caleb seeing the anger in his eyes.
“Shit, sorry, look, I don’t want to argue or fight. You’re my friend, and I appreciate your concern even though you don’t need to. I’m not going to hurt Lydia. Tell Donna to stop worrying and to leave us to get it done.”
Caleb nodded. “Fair enough.”
Henry turned back to the action as Drake dropped his head sobbing.
“You may as well tell us where they are,” Elijah said.
“Fuck off.” Drake’s voice no longer held the conviction that he was in control. He looked on the edge of death.
Elijah grabbed his hair, pulling the man’s head back. Henry pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to see if Lydia had sent him a message. The screen was clear, and he quickly checked the time.
“You’re going to put up a fight for no reason?”
“It’s not for no reason,” Drake said. Drool was pouring out of his mouth. His hands were a bloody mess.
“No?”
“We all know I’m not leaving this warehouse alive. Why should I give you anything? I’m dead anyway. It’ll give me pleasure even in death to know you’re going to suffer.” Drake looked past Elijah’s face to stare at him. “I heard Bill took a liking to your woman. It’s going to be hard letting her out on her own with him waiting around to take her.”
Henry tensed up, and Drake saw it.
“I knew there was more to her than a simple whore. Henry doesn’t do whores. He fucks them at his club and never gets personal.” Drake laughed. His teeth were decorated with blood, and there were several teeth that had been pulled. Elijah was one sick bastard. The art that he displayed with torture sickened Henry. He liked to pummel men and do the occasional torture, but there were limits even for him. Elijah was showing his sinister side. Henry wouldn’t touch the mouth in any of his victims.
“Where are they?” Henry asked.
“You’re going to have to wait to find them.”
“This makes no sense. You don’t get anything out of it. You’re in pain.”
“So, it’s going to end soon. It makes no difference to me. I’m not giving you their location.” Drake laughed, tilting his head back and coughing. “Why would I help you fuckers? We’re enemies.”
Elijah stood, and the chair he’d been sat on clattered to the ground echoing around the whole warehouse. He removed his jacket, then his crisp white shirt that he hadn’t gotten any blood on. How many men had this fucker tortured?
“You two can leave. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Glancing at Drake, Henry almost felt sorry for him. He remembered Lydia’s bruised cheek, and that took any kind of pity he felt for the bastard and knocked it dead.
“Call if he gives us anything,” Caleb said.
“Will do. He’s not going to be seeing death for some time.”
They exited the warehouse and headed toward the car. Henry had picked Caleb up at the beginning of the day.
“Well, that was enlightening,” Caleb said.
“I don’t think it was enlightening, more like fucking frightening.” Henry shuddered. “What the fuck do we know about Elijah?”
“That we shouldn’t fuck with him. I tell you, I don’t want to ever be in one of his chairs in that warehouse. Fuck that.” Caleb pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. “You can drop me off at my house. I’ve got the rest of the night planned with Donna.”
“Who’s having Luke?” Henry asked.
Caleb groaned. “Okay, I’m going to spend the rest of the night with my woman and my son. When he’s asleep I’ll fuck my woman just the way she likes.”
Henry chuckled. This was another reason why he didn’t want kids. He was a selfish bastard and didn’t want to share Lydia with anyone.
“Stop gloating. It doesn’t look good on you.”
“Actually, it does look good on me.” Henry glanced over at his friend.
“Have you started painting again?” Caleb asked.
“No.” Henry faced the road. No one but Caleb knew about his need to paint. This was insane for him to even be thinking about.
“Are you going to open up to Lydia?”
“I don’t know, man. Shit, it’s still in the early stages.” And he’d not even looked at his paintings. They were stored away in the room that he kept locked.
Lydia hadn’t asked about the room yet, which he was thankful for. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“Yeah, you did.” Henry ran a hand down his face keeping the other on the steering wheel. The past was still there, in the past. He didn’t want to bring it into his future.
“Forget I mentioned anything. Send me a text or something to let me know if Lydia’s okay. Donna will go out of her mind with worrying.”
Nodding, he waited for his friend to be inside his home before steering out of the gated entrance. Glancing in the rearview mirror he saw the gates were closed before he even got a few feet. Caleb never risked his woman or his son’s life. Could he do that? Keep Lydia and a child safe even in his world. The whole idea felt foreign to him. Why was he thinking about kids? He didn’t want kids. The problem was Lydia. If she wanted kids, then so did he.
Their lives were dangerous, and Caleb employed two bodyguards to assist Donna when she wanted to go out. Henry didn’t employ anyone as he could handle himself. They were getting deeper and deeper into this world, and it would only be a matter of time before he had to consider guards. Should he put a guard on Lydia?
Driving toward the center of the city took time. The roads were busy, and all he wanted to do was find out how Lydia was healing up.
He wondered what she’d have ready for dinner. Lydia could cook and not those packet mixes either. She cooked everything from scratch, and the food was to die for. He loved walking into the apartment with her cooking.
When he’d gone back to her apartment, he’d started packing it all away, bringing more of her stuff to his space. He hoped by the time she was fully healed she’d be all but moved into his apartment. In the trunk of the car he held another three boxes of her stuff. The landlord wanted rent payment by the end of the month. He hoped to have her apartment empty by that time and
anything they didn’t need put in to storage for her to decide on what to keep and what not to.
By the time he pulled up into the parking lot, it was dark, and he checked his cell phone to see no missed calls or texts. He didn’t like this. The doctor should have given her the all clear.
Going to the trunk, he piled the three boxes onto each other. They were light, and it didn’t take much strength to hold. He’d brought her cookbooks to the apartment earlier. Her collection wasn’t large, and he intended to rectify that by buying her plenty of books. She could cook, and he’d never been interested in the kitchen.
Locking the car, he made his way over to the building, resting the boxes against the wall as he got into the building. He made his way over to the elevator, nodding at the man on the reception.
The ride up to his apartment was slow. He wanted to see Lydia to make sure everything was fine. Henry knew he should have stayed with her instead of going to the warehouse. He’d fucked up, and he wasn’t happy.
The elevator opened, and he walked to his room. Fitting the key into the lock, typing in the number, the door opened and he walked into the apartment. He placed the boxes on the floor then closed the door.
“Lydia, I’m back.”
He turned around and froze. She stood in a sheer white gown. No, there was no way white would reveal all that creamy flesh.
“Hey, Henry,” she said. Her hands were rested at her chest. The robe went down to the floor.
What did he do with his hands?
“Hey,” he said. His mouth was completely dry.
****
Should she have done this? Lydia saw him standing there, frozen. The doctor had come and gone, and she’d wanted to do something special for Henry.
Licking her lips, she glanced down at the floor feeling her confidence deflate. Is this what he wanted? On the same night where he warned her she’d be his, he’d taken her to his bed. Was this different?
“Hey,” she said, back.
