King pulled back and his eyes swept from head to toe, looking for damage. “You OK?”
She nodded and he relaxed a bit.
“Come on. Sit down.” He led her to the sofa, lowered her to it gently. He knelt in front of her and took her hands. “What happened?”
“I – I…” She averted her gaze, the shame and humiliation rising now. “I bought some wine.”
“You what?” He looked over his shoulder, and saw the full glass on the kitchen counter. He turned back to her again, his hands cradling her face now. “Did you drink any?”
She didn’t seem to hear him. “He came to the center tonight and said we should go for a drink. He said he’d sleep in the other room… he said I’d be safe. But he – he…” She fell silent for a few seconds. “All this time, I thought he just saw an opportunity and took advantage of it. But tonight he told me that he didn’t.”
“Baby, you’re not making any sense.” He tried to get her to look at him, but her eyes skittered away. “Tell me what happened, OK?”
“He – he raped me.”
King stared at her, frozen. “He – what? Tonight?”
She blinked. “Tonight what?”
“He raped you tonight?”
“No. Tonight he tried to strangle me."
"What?"
She had changed in to a thick, heavy turtleneck that concealed her entire throat. Gently, King rolled it down and his eyes went as hard as flint when he saw the purple fingermarks on her creamy skin.
"Who the fuck did this to you? Tell me right now."
She gazed at him tiredly. "Patrick."
"Patrick who?"
"Doyle." She rubbed her eyes.
"And he didn't rape you tonight?" King stroked her neck, soothing the burning, sore flesh.
"No. He raped me that night. That night he planned.”
“Naomi.” King kept his voice low and calm. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Nothing.”
“You didn’t drink anything at all?”
“No. I poured that glass of wine about five hours ago, and I’ve been staring at it from across the room ever since.”
He heaved a huge sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“I – I just couldn’t drink it… but I also couldn’t go over and pour it out. I was terrified to get too close to it. I couldn’t bring myself to touch it, or even smell it. So I’ve been sitting here on the sofa, trying to find the fucking courage to pour it down the drain. But I just couldn’t, so I didn’t.”
“Did you call Mirrie?”
“She’s away this week, and I have another woman to call, but I don’t know her. And I thought about calling her, but I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to call someone I don’t trust, so I didn’t call her because I don’t know her. I called you. I know you.”
King didn’t like the barely-coherent rambling; it was too much like shock. He forced her to meet his eyes, saw her blank stare.
“Hey,” he said. “Hey, you here with me?”
“He was already fucking me before I woke up, and when I finally figured out what was going on, it was halfway over.” She was mechanical and numb, her voice colorless. “It hurt so much and I told him to stop, but he covered my mouth and nose and I couldn’t breathe. I bit him, and he hit me until I stopped fighting. I just – I closed my eyes and waited for it to be over. Then I passed out.”
King swallowed hard.
“I was drunk and I was in his bed – but I didn’t ask for that to happen. I told him to stop… I didn’t want what happened, no matter what he says.”
“I know,” King said quietly. “Did you call the cops?”
“I didn’t tell anyone. Not until I told Mirrie a few months ago.”
“Why not?”
“Because back then I was a falling-down drunk who went home with any man who’d have me. Nobody would have believed a word I said back then. And that night? The whole bar saw me all over him, saw me leave with him, and yeah, I fully intended to sleep with him. I changed my mind at his place, and I told him that.” Naomi started to shake again, hard. “He said he’d sleep on the sofa, he told me to take his bed. I thought he was a nice guy. I thought I could trust him…”
“You made a mistake.”
“I lost all judgment and made myself vulnerable, Matt. I fucked up constantly, and every single time I did, I was drunk.”
“You were in a bad place.” King saw her focus on him now. “But you’re doing better now, right? You’re figuring out how to cope with shit without diving in to a bottle.”
“I guess.”
“You are. You didn’t drink a drop of that wine just ten feet away from where we’re sitting, did you?”
“No.”
“Well, there you go.” He took a deep breath. “You could have downed that whole bottle to escape from seeing him again tonight, to escape what he did to you, but you didn’t. You stared it down, you called for help. You survived it, you got through. You’re a survivor.”
“I’m not.” Her voice broke. “I was the perfect victim – I created this whole life where I could be raped and nobody would believe me if I told them what happened. And he knew it – he knew it.”
“I believe you.”
She paused. “You do?”
“Of course I do.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Honey, I’m always going to believe you.” He stroked her hair, and she wondered yet again how his huge hands could be so tender. “Always. All I care about is being on your side.”
“Oh.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his closeness – both physical and emotional – she tried to move away on both levels. “Listen, I’m sorry to have called you in the middle of the night like this. You can go if you want to. I’m fine now.”
“God, Naomi, don’t do that. Come here.” He pulled her against him again. “No need to pretend with me, alright? I know you’re not fine, so don’t put up your walls again and shut me out. Let me be here for you, all the way.”
“I’m trying.” Her voice was quiet, broken. “I’ve let you see more of me than anyone before, ever.”
“I know.” His hands cupped her face and his stare burned right through her, all the way to the darkest, dirtiest corners of her soul. “But you need to know this: you can be out of control and totally vulnerable with me, and still be safe.”
She looked away and he turned her to face him again.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Naomi. I’m not going to cheat on you, or lie to you, or leave you. I’m not going to look at the dark parts of you and think they’re ugly. I’m not running from you. I’m here, baby. I’m right here, and I’m knocking on the door. Let me in. Let me in.”
“I – I –” She closed her eyes. “I want to. I’m just – I’m scared to.”
“I know you are.” He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. “What can I do to make it easier?”
“Stay. Stay tonight.”
King stopped breathing. “What?”
“Stay with me in my bed and don’t hurt me.” Her eyes were full of tears and he hated to see them. “Don’t force me to do anything. Don’t take advantage of the situation. Just – just stay.”
“Are you sure? Totally sure?”
“Yes.”
“OK.” King felt like he was falling, or maybe flying. “I’ll stay.”
“Thank you,” she said again.
He stood up and tugged her to her feet. She hesitated, and he looked down at her.
“What is it?” he said.
“I want to pour out the wine.”
“OK,” he said calmly. “Let’s go do that.”
She nodded and he followed her in to the kitchen. She picked up the full glass, dumped its contents down the drain, then she washed it with lots of soap and water
and set it on the draining board. Naomi reached for the bottle and turned it over, and that’s when King saw the cork bobbing around inside.
“Naomi?”
“Hmmmm?” She was watching the liquid disappear down the sink, and feeling better with every passing second.
“Why is the cork in the bottle?”
“Oh.” She laughed, a real laugh. “Yeah, well. I got all the way home and then remembered that I don’t own a corkscrew anymore.”
He laughed too. “So what’d you do?”
“My old standby trick. I got a knife – a regular dinner knife – and wrapped it in a dishtowel. Sat down, held the bottle between my legs, and shoved the cork in using the end of the knife.” She set the empty bottle on the counter and started to rinse out the sink. “It just pops right down and in.”
“Huh,” he said. “Good to know.”
She grinned at him. “I’m a walking almanac of useless skills like that.”
“Oh, I’ll bet that not all your skills are so useless, honey.”
Their eyes met and Naomi’s breath caught in her chest. She suddenly realized that Matt was actually going to sleep with her, in her bed. That body was going to be right there, next to her, touching her. He’d be there all night and he’d be there in the morning – and as much as that fucking terrified her, it also made her feel something else.
Safe. I feel safe.
**
King was holding a sleeping Naomi in his arms and watching the snow fall. It was after three o’clock but he was wide awake, and he fully expected to stay that way for a while.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t awake because he was fighting a raging hard-on or overwhelming desire. Well, OK, yes – he did have a rock-hard cock, and yes, he did want to flip Naomi under him and take her until she screamed. That was all a given, seeing as he was finally in bed with the hottest, sweetest woman he’d ever held. This was his dirtiest, sexiest fantasy come to life… or at least this was how it kind of started. In his fantasy, she wasn’t anything close to asleep.
No, he was wide awake because he finally had the time to fully process what Naomi had told him about that fucker who had raped her. At the time that she’d told him, King had heard it, but he hadn’t let himself really think about what that meant. He did so now, and the rage was slow and steady and all-encompassing.
King had been around lots of drunk women, and he knew just how vulnerable they could be. If a guy got it in mind to ply a woman with booze and then take advantage of her, he could do it pretty fucking easy. Having superior strength, being sober and in control, laying the trap in a public place – all these things worked in a determined guy’s favor. It made King sick that she’d fallen victim to a predator, and that nothing he did or said could ever change that. He had the same fear for Janine, though she was vulnerable for different reasons.
He looked down at Naomi’s face and his heart jumped. After it all, despite it all, she was here with him. Two hours earlier, she’d curled right up at his side, sighed, and closed her eyes. She’d been shattered by that point, and had looked pale and shaky again. He’d held her against his body, and she had let him. She didn’t fully trust him, he knew – not yet – but she wasn’t afraid of him. Considering everything, that was a tiny miracle in itself.
Another miracle to be grateful for: Naomi had been all alone and mere feet from a bottle of self-medication, and she’d made the awe-inspiring decision to not drink it. King tried to imagine what had been going through her head for the five hours that she’d sat there, trembling and staring at that glass of wine, and he failed miserably. The internal struggle must have been epic, and he knew that in his arms he held the strongest and most fragile woman that he’d ever known.
She tensed suddenly and he glanced down at Naomi again. Her face wasn’t calm and relaxed anymore, and he tightened his grasp on her automatically. All he wanted was for her to feel safe, and he was prepared to do anything at all to make that happen. That was why – despite the fact that Naomi had agreed to file a police report the next day – King had already called a few of his team members and given them Patrick Doyle's name. Quinn and Jackson would be doing their own investigation in to the twisted prick and King was very much looking forward to following it up. Maybe even in person.
Naomi felt hands on her body now, and the thought that Patrick was touching her again made her skin crawl. She jerked back, but suddenly huge arms were around her, pinning her in place, preventing escape. She twisted, a moan bursting from her throat.
“No… no. Stop. Stop!” She pushed against something hard, her whole body fighting to get away.
“Shhhh. Baby, it’s me. It’s Matt.”
Matt?
Fingers were stroking her hair now, caressing her cheek, tracing the curve of her lips. Gentle, tender, slow. Matt’s hands, for damn sure. No man had ever touched her the way that he did and she’d know his touch anywhere now. She knew it in the dark. She knew it by heart.
Her eyes opened just a crack and she saw him gazing down at her. His handsome face was troubled and she smiled at him. Still mostly asleep, she reached out to him, rested her hand on his cheek. He inhaled, pressed her hand tighter with his own, turned his face. He mouthed a tiny kiss on her palm and closed his eyes.
Right away, she settled again, slowly sinking back in to sleep. She was safe with him and she sighed deeply, letting herself burrow in to his huge body.
In response, he held her closer, and she felt his heat envelop her. He was like a gigantic cocoon, surrounding her and protecting her. Matt wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, not ever, and he wasn’t going to be the one to hurt her, either. She fell in to the peaceful blackness, knowing that no more bad dreams would come that night. Matt was there.
King stared down at her. She was completely out again, and he was staggered by her trust in him. Even half-conscious after a nightmare, she had smiled at him and touched him; she had accepted his kiss and then slipped on back in to sleep.
That was when he knew that this was it, for him. She was it. She was everything.
My sun and moon and stars.
Chapter Twelve
King woke up the next morning to see a pair of beautiful brown eyes watching him. He smiled and reached for her. She came to him right away, no hesitation or holding back, and he tucked her head on his chest.
“Good morning,” Naomi said.
“You were watching me sleep?”
“Can you blame me? You’re drop-dead gorgeous.”
“Keep talking like that and I’ll drag my ass out of bed to make you coffee.”
She propped herself up on one hand. “You know what?”
“Hmmm?”
“When we first met at Curves? I wondered just how sexy your voice would be in the morning.”
He grinned. “You did?”
“Yep.”
“And?”
“Ummm.” Her small purr hit him smack in the chest. “It’s even hotter than I imagined. All rough and gravelly.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, hell, yeah.”
“OK. I will definitely bring the lady coffee in bed.”
“Oh, good. Flattery works beautifully with you, I see.”
They looked at each other, heating up the air between them. King touched her face, carefully ran his fingertips over the bruises on her throat.
“You OK today?” he said.
“Yeah.” She paused, reconsidered. “Well, maybe still a bit shaky.”
“You want to go to a meeting after we go to the police station?”
“Oh, for sure. There’s one at four o’clock and I’ll be there. But right now, I want to do one thing.”
“Have a drop-dead gorgeous man bring you coffee in bed?”
“Have a drop-dead gorgeous man kiss me in bed.”
He stopped cold, all joking and humor gone from his fac
e now. “Naomi. You specifically asked me to not take advantage of this situation. Of you.”
“You’re not.” She ran her hands over his tense upper arm muscles. “I’m asking you to please kiss me.”
“You just said you’re still shaky. You had a bad shock last night – two bad shocks, really.” His gray eyes were holding her whole. “I’m not going to do a single goddamn thing when you’re not feeling strong and sure.”
She was quiet for a few seconds too long and he touched her hair. “Honey? What is it?”
“I haven’t been in bed sober with a guy for over ten years.”
“What?” he said.
“I’ve always been so scared and untrusting of men, and totally unable to feel safe with them, so I’d get drunk to relax enough to have sex.”
“Naomi…”
“The first time I had sex was at college and I was drunk.” She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. “The next morning, he snuck out. And that was the pattern that was set and which stuck, for years. Drink, pick up, have bad drunk sex, pretend to be asleep the next morning. Or sometimes I was the one to sneak out, my head pounding with a hangover and my sense of balance all fucked up, and on those mornings, he’d pretend to be asleep.” She sighed. “Even with boyfriends, it was always about drinking and then having sex. I’d wake up and stay, but we’d both be hungover and sick as dogs.”
“You’ve really never slept sober in bed with a man? Never woken up clearheaded?”
“No.” Her eyes were steady. “Not until last night, and not until right now. Not until you.”
“Goddamn,” he said softly.
“So you see, I am feeling strong and sure, Matt. I feel that way because I got in to bed with you sober, and I slept with you sober, and I’m waking up with you sober.” Naomi traced his lips with her fingers, loving their sensual shape. “I’m asking you to kiss me and I’m asking you sober.”
Unable to stop himself, he opened his mouth just a bit and gently trapped her finger between his teeth. She gasped and the sound had an immediate effect on King: his cock hardened mercilessly. Watching her face, he flicked his tongue, then sucked on her fingertip.
Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) Page 13
