by Lynn Cooper
He had died several deaths since she had infiltrated his world. His hand shook when he turned over the Honda’s ignition. He hadn’t driven a car in years. For all he knew, his license had long-since expired. How would he know? It wasn’t like he had a mail box for the DMV to send notices to. Besides, he had not planned on going anywhere but down.
Now, his entire being was flying at a pace so fast he couldn’t keep up. The synapses of his brain were firing in all directions. His heart was slamming from one side of his chest to the other, coming alive, feeling things he thought he would never feel again. The perpetual upward motion of his cock, straining, aching, begging to be inside this woman was pure torture. And all of this mental, emotional and physical chaos was because of the exceedingly beautiful and curvy Lacey Burke. A woman he didn’t deserve. A woman he was afraid to let in. A woman he was certain to disappoint.
Her voice had been soft and sweet and expectant as she gave him directions to her apartment. He knew she was wanting and needing for them to pick up where they had left off. He also knew they couldn’t. All he could do was drive her home. When they arrived, he shut off the car and turned toward her.
“I’ll walk you to your door. But then I’ve got to go. I can’t come inside. I mean, I should get back to the trestle. It’s where I belong.”
She frowned. “No, what you should do is take a shower.”
Her words stung, reminding him of how filthy he was. How far he had fallen.
“Look, Lacey, what happened earlier was a mistake. I’m no good for you. Washing the dirt off won’t make me clean.”
She slammed her delicate hand down on the dashboard, startling him.
“Damn it, Chance! Why won’t you give me one?”
Had she really pulled a double entendre with his name? Clever and cute. It was no damn wonder he couldn’t resist her. But for her sake, he had to.
He reached out and cupped her cheek. “It’s not you who needs one, and I don’t deserve one. Forget about me, Lacey. Forget all about what happened between us.”
“Forget? I don’t want to. I can’t. If you won’t let me in, at least stop pushing me away. We can take it slower. Get to know one another a little more each day when I bring dessert by the trestle. I promise to get my muffler fixed and not cause any more gang wars.”
His eyes darkened. His hand fell from her face. “For God’s sake, Lacey! It’s not safe for you in my world. I keep trying to protect you, and you keep putting yourself in harm’s way. Do you have a fucking death wish? ‘Cause if you do, hanging around me is a sure fire way to get yourself killed.”
His tone was icy, making her shiver.
“I just want to make things better for you and the others, Chance. They really loved the pies,” she said softly. “I don’t see anything wrong with me bringing them in the daytime.”
“Damn it, woman! Do you not understand bad things happen in the daylight, too? My sister was brutally raped in the middle of the afternoon. The sun was shining as bright as you please. Later, I killed her attacker under that same fucking sun. So stop being so fucking naive!”
LACEY SHIVERED AGAIN, WONDERING if she would ever stop. Tears streamed down her face. “I’m so sorry about your sister. What’s her name?”
He shook his head in disbelief. “You truly are an angel. After a confession like I just made, any other woman would have jumped from this car running and screaming in the opposite direction. At the very least, they would have asked me how I killed the bastard.”
Lacey tenderly smoothed back an unruly lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead. “Tell me her name, Chance.”
His eyes misted. “My sister’s name was Charlotte.”
“Was?”
He nodded. “She was killed in a car crash the day I was sentenced.”
Lacey gasped. “Oh no, Chance. How horrible!”
“Yeah. She was so tore up over me going to prison that she ran from the courtroom sobbing. The judge wouldn’t even allow her to hug me before she left. Charlotte was far too upset to be driving, but no one was there to stop her from getting behind the wheel. We only had each other. There was no other family for her to lean on, and she had isolated herself from friends after she was raped.”
Lacey didn’t know anything else to say except, “I’m sorry.” It sounded so inadequate to her own ears. She wanted to take away his hurt, but all she could do was listen and hope somehow that it would help.
He knifed his fingers through his hair. “It’s my fault Charlotte died. If I hadn’t murdered the man who raped her, I wouldn’t have been sent to prison. She wouldn’t have been driving while distraught. She would still be alive.”
“And you wouldn’t be homeless.”
He smiled sadly. “Probably not.”
“How do you know the accident was caused by Charlotte being so upset? Maybe there was another reason.”
“A highway patrolman was behind her when it happened. He saw the whole thing. According to his account, she was speeding and had been weaving on and off the road. He was following close enough behind her to see she kept taking one hand off the wheel and rubbing it across her face.”
“She was wiping away tears.”
“Fucking tears that I made her cry. Tears that blinded her. Tears that sent her through a guard rail. Tears that wrapped her car around a tree and killed her instantly. Tears that took her away from me forever. The judge wouldn’t let me out for even an hour to attend her funeral. I had to pay my lawyer to make all the arrangements. He stood next to her graveside in my place.”
Lacey’s heart swelled with sympathy and compassion and something even stronger than both—love. In that moment, she knew her connection to Chance wasn’t pity over him living under a train trestle or a desire to feed him apple pies. She truly loved the broken man sitting in her Honda. She took his face in her hands and gazed deeply into his eyes.
“You’re a good man, Chance.”
He cast his eyes downward and tried to pull away, but she tightened her grip.
“Look at me,” she demanded. “I love you.”
His whole body shuddered on a tortured breath. “I’m no good, angel. I forbid you to love me. I killed a really bad man and, because of it, a really good woman—my sister—died, too.”
Lacey didn’t know how to reach him, but she had to try. “How did you kill him, Chance?”
She was glad to see the shaken look on his face. If she couldn’t convince him of his worth, perhaps she could shock him into seeing things her way.
“The bastard’s wallet fell from his pocket when he fled the scene of his filthy crime. He had attacked Charlotte in an alley that ran alongside her apartment building. She had the presence of mind to grab his billfold as she dragged herself inside.”
“That’s how you knew where to find him?”
“Yes. She gave it to me, and I got his address from his driver’s license. I only meant to go get him and deliver him to the police. But when I got to his house, showed him the wallet and demanded he come with me to the station, he laughed in my face. He took a great deal of pleasure in taunting me with every sick detail of the rape. He then bragged of other incidences, promising he would rape again and again. He even had the balls to say he was coming back for another round with Charlotte.”
Lacey placed her hand over her heart. “That’s the sickest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I just snapped. Then I snapped his neck like a twig. Poor Charlotte. Like many rape victims do, she had immediately jumped in the shower and tried to scrub away the filthy violation. Unfortunately, she also washed away valuable DNA evidence. Without it, it would have been nearly impossible to prove he was the one who had raped her.”
Chance blew out a hard breath and pushed on. “I knew this asshole would get a slap on the wrist or maybe even walk. I couldn’t let that happen. Not when he was threatening to take another run at my sister. Not when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he would rape other women, too.”
Lacey didn
’t condone killing, but there were instances in which she felt it was a necessary evil. Self-defense against a deadly assault. Protecting one’s home and property against intruders. And what Chance did to the sick bastard who attacked his sister. Lacey was well-read and frequently watched news reports. It was blatantly clear that way too many times justice never came for rape victims. This time it did.
Lacey’s heart wrenched as she watched silent tears trickle down Chance’s face. His big, broad shoulders shook, and his head hung low. Leaning toward him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “I’m glad you killed him, and I still love you. There’s nothing you can say to make me stop.”
He pulled back. This time he held her gaze without looking away. “I don’t want you to love me. I don’t want to love you. I can’t trust myself not to hurt you.”
Lacey furrowed her brows in confusion. “All you’ve done since we met is protect me. First, from Jock and then from flying bullets. You saved my life twice. Now it’s my turn to save yours.”
“That’s the part that scares me most. Once a man knows he is capable of murder—and actually commits it—then what’s to stop him from doing it again? Nothing. If Jock hadn’t let you go, I would have snapped his neck, too. If you had been hit by a bullet, I would have killed those gang members one by one. Each man would have paid for your life with his. I’m a monster who lives on the streets now. You deserve better.”
She placed her hands against his chest. “You deserve better. You didn’t hurt your sister. You loved her and protected her and got justice for her. The rapist set all of the horrible things that happened to you and Charlotte into motion. He’s the one to blame, not you.”
He looked more exhausted than she thought humanly possible.
“Let me go, Lacey,” he said, looking down at his soiled hands and clothing. “I’m getting you dirty.”
“That’s what water is for.” She reached for the door handle. “Come inside and take a shower with me, Chance. Please.”
SHIT! WHY DID SHE have to say please? He had made up his mind only to walk her to her door. Once she was safely inside, he would walk out of her life for good. He just couldn’t risk hurting her. He’d rather die than bring her a moment of sorrow. Through nothing but sheer will, he had built an impenetrable wall around his heart. He was determined not to fall any deeper in love with her than he already had. He set a steely resolve against it that couldn’t be bent. Well, not until she had said that one little word—please. After that, there was no denying her. No denying himself.
Chance couldn’t remember how long it had been since he last took a shower. Years probably. Having lived under the trestle for the last five, his bathing rituals had consisted of washing his hands and face in public restrooms and the occasional whore’s bath.
Before prison, when he had showered as a free man, he had never taken one with a woman. Damn, he didn’t realize what he had been missing. It wasn’t just sharing an intimate space with her while hot water cascaded over their naked bodies that brought a smile to his face. It was the feel of Lacey’s delicate feminine hands as she gently rubbed a soft, soapy cloth all over his body. She was lovingly washing him from head to toe. The act was sweet and sexual at the same time. With each swipe of his chest, she sighed, and he groaned. She was touching him every place except the one he was dying for her to—his cock. Proudly, it stood straight up in the air, beckoning her. Yet, she ignored it. Even when it bobbed and danced for her, she acted as if it wasn’t there.
His massive erection had reached the point of being painful. He needed the sweet relief only her caress could bring. Grabbing her wrists, he growled. “My chest is plenty clean. Wash my cock. It’s filthy.”
She grinned mischievously. “Somebody’s impatient.”
He countered, “Somebody’s having way too much fun torturing the homeless guy.”
His breath caught when the cloth slipped from her fingers. His stomach muscles jerked when she wiped the suds from his chest and smeared them onto his aching penis. It convulsed in her hand. He died a thousand deaths when Lacey gave it a squeeze and smiled up at him seductively.
His voice was graveled by desire. “You like teasing me and my prick, don’t you?”
She squeezed the sensitive head, pulling a groan from deep inside his chest. Then she ran her fingers up and down his full length before releasing it and cupping his balls. He pressed his palm against the shower wall. Against the pleasurable agony she was inflicting.
“Does that answer your question, big boy?”
God, she was so fucking beautiful. Her full, heavy breasts glistened slick. Her pretty pink nipples pebbled beneath the water and the intensity of his gaze. He would bet all the gold in Fort Knox her pretty little pussy was dripping wet with want. He couldn’t wait a moment longer to find out.
LACEY GASPED WHEN CHANCE spun her around and pulled her backside flush against his front. She could hear him squirt green apple-scented body wash onto his hands and rub them together. Her heart flip-flopped in anticipation.
His pelvis seductively brushed against her bottom as he circled her shoulders with his arms. Her legs turned to jelly when he slowly lathered her breasts. The intense pleasure of foam teasing and torturing her aching nipples was nearly unbearable.
She felt his manhood growing bigger and harder while his hands worshipfully stroked her rounded belly. Lacey was overcome by his physical reaction to her body. She never imagined a man as sexy as Chance being turned on by her abundant curves. But no amount of self-doubt could discount the nudge of his sex against her low back. It was tangible and beyond impressive. She couldn’t suppress a whimper as his touch left a trail of tiny fires in its wake, and Lacey could feel the burn of every single one of them.
His deep voice echoed off the shower walls. “You’re shaking, angel. Don’t you like how I’m washing you?”
“I love it.” She purred her pleasure.
“Good, because I don’t plan on stopping until every part of you is squeaky clean.”
Slowly, his hands trailed their way up her arms to her shoulders. Lacey closed her eyes, savoring the strength in his fingers as he massaged her muscles. Her breath grew shallow with the sensual glide of them as they swept back down her arms to her wrists where he laced their fingers together. Holding hands this way made her feel like a giddy teenager on a first date. But his hot breath on the nape of her neck reminded her she was a full-grown woman in need of a good fucking. In silent invitation, she wiggled her butt against his powerful manhood. He responded by growling, “Patience, Lacey.” Then he shifted his thumbs into her palms, stroking the centers with a suggestive circular motion. The sensation was so naughty and forbidden, she could feel it clear to her clit.
Lacey tingled from head to toe. The electric current of emotion made her dizzy. She reached for the shower wall, pressing her palm against the tiles for support. When he moved around in front of her and knelt down, she thought she would faint for sure. He gave her a smoldering look and smoothed his soap-lathered hands down the length of her shapely legs, lingering at her calves and ankles before sliding his big hands back up them. She cried out when his fingertips gently fluttered across the sensitive, trembling flesh of her inner thighs.
“So damn beautiful,” he muttered. “Your gorgeous legs go all the way up to your hot ass.”
All she could manage was a blush and two words. “Oh, Chance!”
Still on his knees, he ran one hand over her tummy to cup her breast. Both breasts swelled in a silent plea for the encompassing possession of his hands. The tantalizing lash of his tongue against her aching nipples. They tightened into painful little buds of sensation and anticipation, but Chance made no move to stand. Instead, he lifted one of her legs and draped it over his shoulder. The movement effectively splayed open the wet, throbbing folds of her womanhood to his intense gaze. She felt vulnerable and a little embarrassed. No man had ever been eye level with her pussy before.
Her voice had an edge of apprehensio
n. “Chance? What are you doing?”
He looked up at her with an expression of pure admiration and respect. The honesty of emotions reflected in his eyes stole her breath.
“I’m going to wash your sweet little twat.”
“With what? You’re not holding a wash cloth, and the soapsuds have long since rinsed from your fingers.”
“I know. I’m going to clean you with my tongue.”
“But I’m dirty. I haven’t had a shower since last night. And after all the stress sweating I did back at the trestle, I’m far from being fresh as a daisy down there.”
“I don’t care. You pulled me out the muck today. You offered me a shower. You opened up your home and your heart to me, Lacey. I need to lick you clean.”
She sighed and ran her hand over his wet head. “I didn’t do those things so you’d use your tongue to bath me. You don’t owe me anything. Besides, it’s such a naughty, animalistic thing to do. I—I don’t think I feel comfortable, letting you do this.”
“Letting me? Lacey, you can’t stop me.”
And she didn’t. There was no time. His head disappeared between her thighs so quickly she could do nothing but accept the onslaught of his tongue on her most intimate, private part. Every vein in her body was singed with desire. The hot, rhythmic lapping of his tongue roused her senses to a fever pitch, seduced her heart, branded her soul and tantalized her emotions. She had never experienced such a rush of pure pleasure, and it was made all the sweeter by the fact that she loved this man. Her hips rocked, pushing toward release then pulling back from a white-hot heat that threatened to consume her.
She sucked in a sharp breath when Chance tightened his hold on her, anchoring her in place. He kept her steady, never letting her fall while bringing her to one explosive climax after another.
HE HAD FORGOTTEN HOW heavenly it was to lie on a bed—any bed—but especially one with clean sheets and plush covers. To sink down into a soft but firm mattress. To be in a house with a real roof, lying next to a woman who made him feel like an honest-to- God man instead of a no-good ex-con.
