Fighting for What's His

by Laura Kaye

  At first she was wary, given how they’d left things earlier in the day. But he looked so different to her. His eyes were bright and sharp and his expression was all masculine determination. He hadn’t done much to clean up the cuts on his face but even they appeared less severe when the rest of his demeanor was so vital.

  He came right up to her, his eyes absolutely burning. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Just a few cuts and bumps.”

  “And a foreign object in your arm?” he asked, in a tone so full of concern.

  She looked down at her bandaged right forearm. It was starting to throb, but still it seemed a minor thing compared to what the people who lived here were going through. Last she’d heard, there were thirty-four injuries and four missing people. “Well, yeah.”

  He peered around at the chaos. “I know you’re working. And I know it’s important. And I know this story is going to be huge for you and I’m so fucking proud. I’ll wait for you here until you’re ready to go, and then I’ll come to the hospital with you.”

  Every bit of what he’d just said hit her right in the chest. The respect. The acknowledgement. The pride. “Billy, you don’t have to do that. Really.”

  “Yes, I do. Because I fucking love you.”

  Shayna’s equilibrium completely checked out.

  It’d happened once or twice before since the blast had knocked her off her feet, but usually just when she got up too fast. Not when she was standing perfectly still. “What?” she managed.

  He gently took her into his arms. “I love you. And I don’t want you to move out. I was a complete asshole because I thought I was too late and I was kicking myself for denying what I felt when I’ve known for a while that I felt it. I’m so damn sorry for all of it, too.”

  Wait. Was Billy Parrish truly telling her he loved her? When she’d thought he didn’t want her around at all? What was even happening?

  Cautiously, she placed the hand of her good arm on his hip and peered into his eyes. “Billy, I hit my head on the street when the building exploded. I’ve got a kinda big knot and maybe a wee concussion, so I’m going to need you to repeat what you just said so I can be sure I heard what I think I heard.”

  He smiled. “If you think you heard me tell you that I love you, then you heard right.”

  Just beyond Billy’s arm, Mo was smiling and nodding. “You heard him, Shayna.”

  She blinked, stunned and completely overwhelmed.

  “Am I too late, Shay? Have I ruined everything by taking the long fucking route to get here? Because if you really want to be just friends, I’ll do that for you, too. Anything for you.” Billy gently tucked a curl behind her ear.

  Finally, Shayna let herself believe. “You really love me?”

  He nodded, and the look on his handsome face was so fucking earnest. Even with the cuts and bruises and three-day growth of scruff he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. “I really do.” And damn if him saying that didn’t make him ever hotter.

  Shayna swallowed around the knot of emotion suddenly in her throat. “God, Billy, I love you, too. I love you so much that it’s been hard to breathe for holding it in.”

  “Aw, Jesus,” he said, pulling her closer, which didn’t quite work because her camera still hung on her neck between them.

  They both laughed as she tried to hang it over her shoulder instead, but he had to help her because of her injury. And then she was in his arms and his mouth was claiming hers and she held and kissed and claimed him right back.

  “You’re shaking,” she said when they pulled back from the kiss.

  Billy leaned his forehead on hers. “I, uh, I really hate fire.” His gaze flicked nervously towards the blaze.

  Shayna held him tighter even though it made her arm ache more. “Yet you still came here for me.”

  He nodded. “It feels like I’ve wanted you to be mine for so long, Shayna. I had to make sure you were okay.”

  She could hardly believe what was happening, but it was everything she’d been wanting, too, so she wasn’t going to waste a minute questioning it. “Well I am yours, Billy. And you’re mine, too.”

  “Better fucking believe it.” He gave her another quick kiss. “Okay, baby. Go kick some more ass and come back to me when you’re done. I’ll be right here waiting for however long it takes.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  They got home at five in the morning.

  Then slept like the dead in Billy’s bed ‘til two in the afternoon.

  And then they’d taken turns washing the past few days off one another’s skin in the shower. Not really talking. Not trying to arouse. Just wanting to take care. Because they were both physically beat up and emotionally drained and needed the TLC. From one another.

  Something about the past twenty-four hours had forged them so that Shayna felt closer to Billy than she’d ever felt to anyone in her life.

  Maybe it was having shared their feelings and realizing she wasn’t the only one in over her head. Or maybe it was how he’d supported her work, waiting at the scene for five hours. Or maybe it had been how he’d ridden in the ambulance with her and held her hand, staying by her side as much as he could as she got stitched up. Or how he’d held her all morning long as they’d slept—how they’d held each other.

  Or maybe it was how Billy had admitted his fears about losing her and his fear of fire.

  Whatever explained it, Shayna was considering—really considering for the first time—telling Billy the thing that she most feared him finding out. Because she wanted what they had to be real, and real meant that he needed to know her. All of her. Even the ugly parts. And that she had to be brave enough to trust him to…she didn’t know. Forgive or accept her, maybe?

  So as they stood in the bathroom in nothing more than towels, Shayna took a deep breath and let the truth fly, “It’s my fault that Dylan died.” The words made her pulse pound like a bass drum, but there was also a kind of freedom for having voiced them.

  “What? No. No, baby, it’s not.” Billy cupped her face in his hands.

  “It is,” she said, meeting his gaze. A shiver shuddered through her. “I was seeing this guy who Dylan had insisted was bad news. We’d only gone out a few times, and I liked the guy. Dylan and I actually fought over him. But I just wouldn’t listen.”

  “Oh, Shay, no.”

  “Please, let me get this out.” When he nodded, she continued, the words coming faster now like they were a poison she needed to purge. “The night of the accident, the guy had…um…”

  This was the part that no one in the whole world knew.

  “He’d tried to force himself on me. And then he’d tried to keep me from leaving his house, but I managed to get out a back door before he could stop me. I zigzagged through people’s yards on foot in case he was following me. And when I finally felt like I was safe, I called Dylan and asked him to pick me up, knowing he’d been right all along. Even though he didn’t gloat about it. Not once.”

  “Jesus,” Billy said, a storm rolling in across his expression, making him look fierce. Lethal. “I’m so sorry, Shayna. But none of that makes the drunk driver who hit you your fault.”

  She gave a fast nod and could no longer hold back her tears. “Don’t you see? If I’d listened to Dylan in the first place, none of that would’ve ever happened. He wouldn’t have been in his car picking me up. The drunk driver never would’ve been anywhere near us. And Dylan would’ve gotten married like he was supposed to. And my parents would have all of their children, and probably some grandkids, too. And Ryan would have his little brother. But because of what I did, all of that was lost. And you…you were right. I did run away. From my whole family. Because I know they blame me and it was easier to be alone than to see it.”

  She couldn’t believe she was saying this, but she also couldn’t deny how much she needed to give voice to it.

  After so long of holding in the guilt and the shame and the overwhelming sorrow.

  �
��Aw, Shayna, you’re not to blame. I promise. Dylan died because someone decided to drink and get behind the wheel of a car. End of story. And I can tell you for a fact that Ryan doesn’t blame you, either.”

  She gasped. “How do you know?”

  “Because he said as much to me when it happened. He was never anything but relieved that you’d survived. He loves you.” Billy kissed her tears away. “And I love you. In case you think this changes a single thing, know that it just makes me love you more.”

  “Why?” she asked, her belly a nervous mess even as his support and acceptance built her up. Still, how could he love her more when her role in this made her feel so damn unlovable.

  “Because I know what it’s like to hate yourself for surviving when people you care about died. I carry that same pain. Maybe…fuck, this sounds stupid…”

  She grasped his hips, needing to touch him, to feel him. “What? Tell me.”

  He twisted his lips. “It’s just that, maybe our souls recognized that we carried that same pain. Maybe that’s why we were so drawn together,” he said.

  Those were some of the sweetest words she’d ever heard, even though she ached to hear that he understood her so well because he carried the same guilt. “I love the idea of that, and if it’s true, maybe we can help heal each other.”

  “Maybe we can, baby.” His kiss was all sweet, caring compassion.

  But Shayna suddenly wanted more. “I want to be yours, Billy.”

  The little bit of smugness in his smile was so damn sexy. “Oh, you’re mine, all right.”

  She grasped his wrists where he still held her face. “I want to be yours in every way. Make love to me, Billy?”

  He didn’t make her ask twice.

  “I want to worship you,” he said, guiding her to the bedroom and laying her out. He settled in alongside her and kissed her deeply, his hand exploring her body as his tongue tasted her mouth. He cupped and massaged her breasts, and then his fingers tormented her nipples with little squeezes and twists that had her moaning into his mouth. “I fucking love the sounds you make,” he rasped around the edge of a kiss.

  “You make me crazy,” she whispered.

  Billy grinned. “That’s my line.”

  Her fingers cupped the side of his face, soft and sweet. “It was a good one.”

  Nodding, he trailed kisses down her jaw to her throat to her clavicle, and then lower, until he sucked her nipples into his mouth and flicked them with his tongue. Shayna’s hands went to his hair, holding him to her as he licked and sucked at one breast and then the other.

  Then he went lower until he got good and settled between her thighs, his big shoulders spreading her wider. It was one of her favorite sights in the world.

  Billy, between her legs, looking like a starving man.

  “God, Shay, you don’t know how many times I’ve thought about getting my mouth on you again.”

  “I do,” she said, “because I’ve thought about it, too. Do it, Billy. Taste me.”

  Holding eye contact, he licked firm and slow right over her clit. On a gasp, her hips came off the bed. Billy slid his arms under her thighs and gripped her tight, holding her right where he wanted her.

  And then he was merciless.

  He alternated between long, hard licks from her opening to her clit to fast flicks that made her hold her breath. His stubble burned so good against her thighs and where his mouth met her skin.

  “Give me your orgasm and I’ll give you my cock.” He arched a challenging brow.

  That was not going to be a problem.

  “So close.” Biting on her lip, she watched him worship her, which was exactly what it felt like, just like he’d said.

  Peering up at her, he sucked her clit into his mouth and penetrated her with two thick fingers. He flicked at her with his tongue and curled his fingers inside her in a way that drove her wild. Shayna cried out and grasped at the sheets and thrust as hard as she could against his mouth. And then she was coming and rasping his name over and over.

  “Holy shit.” Her heart was a jackrabbit in her chest.

  “Fuck, that sounded good,” he said, his face so freaking gorgeous and his expression not a little smug. But Shayna hardly cared when his lips glistened with her orgasm.

  “It was so good, Billy,” she said. “Can I have you now? Please?”

  Kneeling between her thighs, he took the long length of his hard cock in hand and stroked. “You want this?” He looked down to where his hand worked over his erection.

  “So much,” Shayna said, aching for them to come together in every way they could.

  “You can have me every way you want me.” He reached into the nightstand drawer and retrieved a condom, and then his big hand rolled it on, and it was a decadent sight that she couldn’t help but watch. “You keep looking at me like that, Shayna, and this isn’t going to last very long.”

  She grinned. “Well I can guarantee you this isn’t going to be the last time.”

  He chuckled, and the sound was pure masculine satisfaction. “You better fucking believe that, baby. It’s not even going to be the last time today.”

  Shay laughed until he came down on her with all his weight. Then all she could do was moan at the goodness of the sensation.

  Looking into her eyes, Billy drove his cock inside her, once, twice, three times, until he filled her to the hilt.

  “Oh, God, you feel amazing,” she rasped, wrapping her legs around his hips as warmth flooded her chest. She wasn’t alone anymore, and Billy was right here with her. Loving her.

  He pushed up on an elbow and met her gaze as he withdrew and thrust, withdrew and thrust. The position held a firm fiction against her clit and gave her a big shove toward the edge.

  “You’re mine, Shayna,” he said, thrusting hard, burying himself deep.

  “Say it again,” she gasped, wanting and needing to be claimed.

  “You’re fucking mine.” Billy clutched at her shoulder, his body driving hers up the bed.

  “Again,” she whined, her back arching as sensation pooled between her legs.

  He buried his face against her ear. “Mine, baby, all mine. Now come on my cock. Come on my cock and say my name.”

  Her orgasm was like a flash flood barreling down on her out of nowhere. “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come. Billy.”

  His thrusts hit her harder, faster, until he was grinding against her and she was coming and writhing and digging her nails into his ass—just like he’d said.

  “Fuck, Shayna, it’s too good, baby. You’re too good.”

  “Never too good for you, Billy. Give all of yourself to me.”

  He unleashed himself then, bracing on both arms and letting his hips swing until his orgasm had him shouting and clutching to her shoulders and hunching himself around her in the tightest, sweetest, most intimate embrace.

  “I love you, Shayna. And I’m so fucking glad you’re mine.”

  “Love you, too,” she said, hardly believing the way everything had turned out.

  And feeling, at long last, like she deserved this new life—this new love—that she’d finally found.

  That night they lay in Billy’s bed again. Truth be told, they’d only gotten out of it to shower and eat. It’d been his very best day since the ambush had changed his life, and now Shayna was changing it again, for the better.

  “In case it needs to be said, this is your room now, too,” he said, holding her from behind and tucking her in tight all along his body.

  She chuckled. “Is that so?”

  He nodded, his face against her soft curls, his nose breathing in her sweet scent. “Either that or expect me to sleep in whichever room you decide is yours. Because this whole fucking house is yours now, too.”

  Shayna shifted so that she could look up at him. “I want to be right here with you. That’s enough for me.”

  He kissed her. “Good answer.”

  All day, he’d been thinking about how brave she’d been in telling him abo
ut what’d happened to her and Dylan. He hated that she took on the responsibility for someone else’s actions, but he entirely understood why she’d done it since he’d walked a million miles in those same shoes. He hurt for her that she’d cut herself off when she most needed people to lean on, though he got that shit, too. And he loathed knowing that some lowlife scumbag had put his hands on her without her consent.

  Billy half hoped he learned who that motherfucker was some day. And that he found him alone in a dark alley.

  Sonofabitch.

  Billy wanted to be as brave as Shayna had been. It felt like the only way he’d know for sure that he deserved her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Ever his perceptive woman, wasn’t she? But she’d given him the perfect opening.

  Billy took a deep breath and a leap of faith. “Right now? Not a damn thing.” He kissed her again. “But I need you to know something. Not long after I first got home, back when I was still deep into recovery, I overdosed on pain meds.” Her eyes went wide, and Billy pushed on. “I can’t tell you what I was thinking. I honestly don’t remember anything except just needing the pain to stop.”

  “Oh, Billy.” Shay’s hands went into his hair. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you.”

  Careful of her bandaged injury, he brought her hand to his mouth so he could kiss it, and then he laced their fingers together. “The other night, I went to a fight club. A, uh, a real underground one. Like you pictured. I promise I won’t ever go again.”

  “Why did you go?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  “There was so much pressure inside me.” He brought their clasped hands to his chest. “Here.” Then to his temple. “And here. It made me realize that I still have shit to work out and that I need to start talking to someone again.”

  Shayna nodded. “I know that can’t be easy. But you can talk to me any time, if it helps. Or just let me hold you. Or, you know, anything else that might help you feel better.” Heat slid into those pretty blue eyes.

  And just like that, Billy was hard against her ass.