by Dee Palmer
She may have recovered physically, but her body has trembled the whole time she’s been talking, and she’s so pale her skin looks almost translucent.
“I’m damaged, Logan, not just emotionally, you know. I don’t know if I can even relax enough to…and, and…” She’s gasping for air, rushing her words in a confused and garbled race to purge herself of this nonsense. “I had to have a hysterectomy. I can never have kids, Logan. There was so much stitching with all the internal injuries. I just don’t want to start something that has no future. You’re worth more than that.” She crumbles in my arms, guttural sobs wrack her body, and I pull her in tight enough so there is just no space between us, and I can feel her bones creak. I press my lips into her soft hair and hum a soothing sound, since she won’t be able to hear me above the tears, and what I have to say, she needs to hear. Several heartbreaking minutes pass, and I don’t think she’s nearly done.
“Shh, baby, shh.” This is killing me. “You have no idea, do you?” I have to stop her torturing herself anyway I can.
“Hmm?”
“And there was me thinking you were smart.” I very gently kiss the tip of her nose when she tilts back to look up at me. “I said you have no idea what you mean to me, but I’m going to take the blame on that one, because I obviously haven’t made myself clear.” I hold her gaze, puffy red eyes filled with pain and lashes soaked with tears. She stares right into me. “I love you, Tia. It really is that simple. If you love someone, it’s the beginning, it’s the end, and it’s the all the in-betweens.”
“Logan, I—”
“Nothing, Tia, there is nothing you can say to make me feel any differently.”
“I hope that’s true.” Her voice catches, and I get a nasty twist in my gut.
“I’m not him, Tia.” I grit out the words since I know that troubled, tortured look in her eyes has little to do with what she’s just told me, and everything to do with that arsehole. “I know I’m more than a little fucked up with my own ‘issues’, but I am not him, and I will never leave you. Couldn’t even if my life depended on it.” I offer a fiendish smile and a light laugh at my attempt at a poor joke. “In our case, Tia, the only person that can leave is you. So you see, angel, it’s my heart on the line here, and it belongs to you.” My declaration makes her suck in a sharp breath and causes the corner of her lips to quirk into a shy smile.
“I love you, Logan. I’m just…I mean, I have…there’s things I—” She struggles to articulate as I interrupt.
“You love me?”
“Yes.” She purses her lips like I’ve asked the dumbest question, and I fucking love that.
“Then that’s all that matters, everything else is just stuff.” I shrug and watch her confusion settle in a cute little frown.
“Stuff?”
“Just stuff. We’re what matters, you and me.” I target my finger directly over her heart and then on mine for emphasis.
“Extremely complicated stuff, Logan.” She wraps her tiny fingers around mine and grips.
“No doubt. It’s nothing we can’t handle together, but you have to tell me everything. You have to keep me in your loop, Tia, and you have to trust me.” Pulling my finger from her grip, I use it to tip her chin high so I am looking into her emerald green eyes, glistening darkly and still holding way too many tears.
“I do trust you.” She holds the gaze for only a second before blinking. I would think that suspicious, breaking the contact so quickly, but I know that’s not her ‘tell’ when she lies. Besides, what she just shared is more than enough to know she does, still…
“Prove it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You can tell me what you’re really up to another time,” I state without judgment or hesitation.
Her eyes widen just a fraction when I hit the mark. She really should know me by now but that’s not important. For me, that just falls under the same heading as ‘stuff’. As long as she doesn’t land that sexy arse back in jail, it’s not relevant. No, what I want for us is the only thing that matters.
“Tell me what I can do to make it better.” She chews on her lip, absorbing my question, a sadness clouds her sparkle, and that’s exactly what I want to take away.
I want to see her shine.
Her words are softly spoken and break my fucking heart.
“I don’t want to remember my first time.”
“I know.” My whispered understanding makes her close her eyes and swallow back a sob. Her body straightens in my arms like she is physically trying to pull herself together. I wrap my arms around her, hoping she can absorb as little or as much of my strength as she needs. It’s hers for the taking.
“I hate that they took that from me, Logan. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, I’d waited, you know, and…” She sucks in a steadying breath, her jaw twitching with checked and righteous rage. “I was raped. I lost my virginity to monsters. My nightmares are filled with images I can’t escape. Every time I feel I maybe want something more, because there have been times when I so wanted us out of the friend zone.” She wipes the back of her hand across her face, flips her palms to roughly dry her cheeks. When her eyes meet mine, I nod and repeat, even if it can only ever be a half-truth.
“I know.”
“But I can’t. The images and feelings flash as high definition as if they are real time, Logan, and I just shut down. It’s the only way I know how to survive. I’m so sorry.” She turns away and drops her head to her chest. Her shoulders shake, and I can feel the devastation tearing her apart all over again.
“Look at me, angel.” I shift slightly to the side, keeping her tight in my hold but making it easier for her to face me.
Her bottom lip is shaking, and it takes everything I have not to crush that pain away with my own lips. I wish it would, if only I could bear her burden. If only.
“Don’t ever apologise, Tia. You did nothing wrong, nothing. You survived, you did.” My hand cups the side of her face. Slow, fat tears trickle over my fingers, and I have to fight to speak. This is killing me. “Angel, you’re unbelievably strong. I know…I know fuck all about what you went through, how that changed you, or how the hell you managed to piece yourself together. Only you know that, but what I do know is that you want something I want to give you.” My other hand joins to frame her fragile looking face. Her pain continues to dampen her skin as she takes in each and every word like it’s gospel. “The choice that was taken from you when you were raped is now yours to make again. You died that day, literally, your medical records state that your heart stopped for twenty-two seconds. Like it or not, the moment your heart began to beat again, you became who you are today. I happen to love who you are right now. I can’t imagine you being any more perfect, but my point is that what happened to you, happened to the old you. The new you is this incredible woman with courage, sass, and the sexiest arse this side of Nirvana. This might be our first time, but the choice is yours if you want it to be your first time, too.”
“Logan,” Her voice is whispered awe, and a tender smile splits her face. “I want you to be my first time.”
“I know.” I can’t help mirror her smile and wonder if her chest also feels fit to burst.
“I’m still scared.” She might express the sentiment with her words, but her whole body has shed its tension, and I feel like I could leap tall buildings that I did that.
“I know.”
“You’re a bit of a know-it-all, aren’t you?” She snickers, a laugh that’s light and easy, and the first splash of colour pinkens her cheeks.
“Want to know what else I know?” I crane my neck so I can breathe the words low and deep in her ear.
“What?”
“I know how I’m going to make you come six ways to Sunday.”
She shudders and swipes her tongue over her perfectly soft lips. Her pupils are so large, I could dive sideways into their depths, and her breathing is laboured as I hold myself millimetres from her. Our lips are just about
to touch; the charge of electricity firing between the non-existent gap when she pulls back, a deep frown darkens her features.
“I don’t have much time. Atticus only gave me two hours.” Her tone is seriously pissed, and that eases some of the anger that instantly fills me at the mere mention of his name.
“Then we better not waste another second.” It’s not ideal, and not what I want for our first time. Still, the courage needed to tell me her tale means this is more than the right time. I’m not being dramatic when I say that it could be the only time. I know too well that tomorrow is a gift not a guarantee.
If I don’t take it, when she knows how I feel, what would she think? I can’t take the risk she might take me wanting a better time as a rejection. Like I could deny her anything, especially something I’ve wanted since the day I caught her hiding in my basement. If we wait, who’s to say it might just be another three years before she feels ready and needs me. Which wouldn’t be a problem if she wasn’t spending the next twelve months with her fucking ‘first love’.
No pressure, but this has to be the performance of my lifetime. I need to make her mine in every possible way. At this moment, I believe my need matches hers, just for different reasons.
I lift her to my side, smoothly lying her on her back with me on my side facing her. I place my hand on her chest over my blood-spattered sweatshirt and smile when I feel the strength of her pounding heartbeat beneath my fingertips, just like mine.
“How’s your nose?”
“My nose?”
“The swelling doesn’t look so bad. Does it still hurt?” Her puzzled expression is adorable, and I chuckle when I clarify.
“Last thing on my mind, funnily enough, Logan. Unless you plan on head-butting me, I think it’s fine.”
“Not my idea of foreplay, angel.” Even I can hear the lust coating my words with a deeper gravelly undertone.
“So what is your idea of foreplay?” She wriggles a little closer, and I have to say I love the way her body just moulds to mine. Even with the barrier of her clothing, I know she’s a perfect fit. One eyebrow rises high, and the teasing lilt to her playful question does things to my cock that the most seasoned professional would struggle to achieve, and I should know.
“Well, for one, we need to lose these.” I tug her sweater up her body, and she lifts herself to help. I quickly hook the t-shirt over my head and dump the bundle of clothes unceremoniously on the floor. Then I peel her leggings from her hips and pull them down her long legs; all the time, I keep my eyes fixed in her. I had removed her shoes when she very briefly passed out before, and once I take her socks off, I stand at the side of the bed and lose the rest of my clothes, and my boxers. I squeeze the ache in my balls, because as impatient as they may be, I’m in no rush. I want to savour every moment of this, even if, thanks to that motherfucker, Atticus, we are on the clock.
I climb back onto the bed, and kneel at her feet. I lift them and place them in my lap. She props herself on her elbows and is about to speak, when I shake my head to silence her.
“Trust me?”
“Yes.” She nods, letting the word escape with a burst of her held breath. Her cheeks are flushed rosy red, and her eyes are a wild green colour I’ve only ever seen in my dreams. She’s absolutely perfect and all mine.
“Good.” I start to massage and stroke, varying the pressure and hitting the points that I know will make her moan with pleasure. I smile each time I hit the jackpot. Her eyes close, and she releases a heavenly sigh as my thumb works the tension from her muscles the length of her leg to her hip.
I lightly trace my fingers along the outline of her white cotton panties. Her skin prickles with bumps in the wake of my touch. I move to her tummy, sliding my hands to her hips. Gripping tight, I kiss a path from her belly button back to the top of her panties. Pulling them slowly down her legs I exhale a heavy hot breath, and she shudders. I peek briefly to see her curious expression levelled directly at me.
“Something wrong, angel?”
“God, no… Just…” She hesitates, and her tone is almost apologetic. “You’re so tender. I wasn’t expecting…I mean…after that kiss, I assumed—” I chuckle my interruption.
“Oh, trust me. I want to tear into you and bury myself so deep we’d need the emergency services to extract me, but that’s not what you need, even if it is what I want.” I drag my bottom lip between my teeth, savouring the very faint taste of her skin. Her tongue swipes her own lips before she breathlessly pleads.
“I want you, Logan, the real you. I don’t want special treatment.”
“Why the fuck not?” I reel back onto my haunches for just a moment and fix my most serious glare at her. My voice drops, and I crawl back up her body, placing my hands either side of her head, hovering so we are nose-to-nose, and I am staring into her soul when I speak. “You are special. You’re amazing and incredible and mine. Why the fuck wouldn’t I want to make you feel every inch as perfect as you are.”
“I didn’t mean… I just want you to be happy.” Her words are whispered, and I can hear the uncertainty as her breath washes sweetly over my mouth. My lips brush against hers, smiling as they do.
“I couldn’t be more happy, Tia, trust me. This is what I want.” I pepper kisses over her mouth, top, bottom, and at the corners of her lips until her wide smile forces me to reluctantly stop. I pull back so I can see her face completely, her eyes more specifically. Those emerald pools I have very much lost myself in a million times and now is no different. “Angel, your first time should be everything you ever dreamed. I consider it my honour and duty to deliver that dream. But believe me, most of the time when I look at you, I want to feral fuck the shit out of you, so enjoy this, Tia. It may be the only time I do take it slow.” She lets out a dirty laugh at my softly spoken, coarsely delivered honesty.
“Oh, all right then, please continue. I like your kisses.” She grins sheepishly.
“Wait till you feel my tongue.” I pitch myself so I am hovering above her, my legs either side of hers, and I stroke my tongue from her collarbone to just below her ear. I clamp my lips around the lobe and suck. When I release the soft flesh and she stretches her neck in open invitation, I strike. I move my lips to grasp the skin on her neck, my teeth graze, and I bite down, sucking and drawing her blood to the surface. He may have placed some sort of collar around her neck but I’m making my mark on her skin. She cries out and arches against me, like she feels the connection in her soul. Fucking perfect.
“Are you marking me?” Her words come out in a breathless pant, and I reply without hesitation or remorse.
“Yes.”
“Good.” She smiles so brightly, the light strikes me clean through my chest, knocking the wind from my lungs. My mouth crashes to hers, and I fear my earlier assurances of taking it slow may, in fact, be moot. Her hands fly to my hair, fingers spearing in and grabbing thick handfuls. She’s matching my passion with a fire I fucking love. We writhe against each other, pawing, clawing to get closer when she takes me completely by surprise, rolling me onto my back and climbing on top. Her lithe legs are straddling my waist, while her hot little core grinds against my rock-solid erection. She breaks the kiss and sits up and unclasps her bra, which falls to the side as she cups her breasts, something my fingers are just twitching to do. She rocks back and forth, all the time staring into my eyes with a scorching heat I really wasn’t expecting. Not the first time.
“Something wrong, Logan?” She repeats my earlier question with a wry smile that makes me release a deep throaty laugh.
“Not a damn thing, angel, not a damn thing. You got this.” I wink, but she takes my statement as a question when she answers.
“No, not really, but being with you, I feel all kinds of confident and sexy. I know you’d never hurt me, and that is…empowering.” She gives a slow sensual roll of her hips, and I nearly come right there. I let out a deep groan, filled with pent-up desire. She’s killing me all over again, and this time I would be happy to m
eet my end just like this.
“God, you’re amazing, but if you keep doing that, angel, I’m going to shoot my load before we really get started.”
“I was thinking the same thing, that I could come so easily with you just staring at me like you are right now, all hot and hungry.”
“Oh, yeah?” I buck my hips nudging my painful erection along her heat, and she moans before clamping her lips tight. Her thighs begin to tremble, and she rests both hands flat on my chest, easing herself up and back, greedily repeating the movement I just made on her.
“Maybe not just by looking at you, then.” She drops her head and peeks her sparkling eyes up at me through long, thick lashes.
“Good, because my cock does not like the sound of that.” I swallow thickly, my voice dry and rough with need.
“No? What does your cock like the sound of?” She squeals and bursts out in a fit of giggles when, in one swift move, I flip us both and pin her to the bed, my frame securing hers. Her arms are stretched above her head, and my cock lies heavily against the apex of her thighs.
“Think I mentioned being buried so deep inside, we need a team of miners to dig him out?” I dip my eyes to where we are so very nearly joined.
“Team of miners, hmm?”
“Figure of speech.” I hold her gaze for long seconds as the playful banter sizzles under the incendiary glare firing between us. “Tia, just in case you thought this was a negotiation, I need to clarify: I don’t play well with others, and I won’t share.”
“I’ve seen you play with others.” Her tone holds no accusation, and in part, it’s the truth. Only this is more than a little different, and she needs to know that.
“You’ve seen me with people I don’t give a fuck about, not the same. Not even in the same ball park, Tia. Scratching an itch and making love with the woman I love? Not the same. Understand?” My tone brooks no discussion, and I couldn’t make myself clearer if I had the words tattooed across my chest.
