by Jamie Begley
He sat down on the side of the bed once the lights were on, giving a low moan when he tried to kick his boots off. “I don’t want to get your blanket dirty.”
“I’ll do it.” She squatted down, removing his boots. “Lie down. You’ll feel better in no time.”
“I’m sure I will.” After he was lying down, Zoey lifted his feet to the bed.
“Can I get you a glass of water or juice?”
“No thanks. I don’t want to have to go to the bathroom in the shape I’m in.”
“You can stay the night here, and I can take you to the chiropractor in the morning. Felix is very good.”
“Is he the one who irons his jeans?”
“I don’t know. I can ask him if you want me to.”
“Never mind. My back will be better by morning. I just need to stretch out.”
“Don’t you want me to massage you?”
“Not yet. I need to get my strength back from getting off the couch. Lie down and talk to me. Help me get my mind off the pain.”
He watched as she went to the other side of the bed, making sure not to jiggle the mattress as she lay down on the small bed with him.
“How long have you taken jiu-jitsu?”
“Eight months. I was going to start it back next month, after giving my knee more time to finish healing.”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with your knee when you kicked me in the stomach.”
He felt the mattress shift under him when she rolled to her side. She brought her hand to his chest, rubbing it with soothing motions.
“What else have you learned to do since you became a life coach?”
“All kinds of things. I love being taught new things. So far, I’ve taken cooking lessons, cake decorating—you know about the jiu-jitsu. I also learned how to build a hothouse. It’s in the backyard. Another client taught me how to play the flut—”
“Which lesson did you enjoy the most?” He stretched more comfortably, reaching out to tug her closer, bringing his arm behind her neck.
“Cake decorating.”
“Which was your least favorite?”
“Scrapbooking.”
“That doesn’t seem hard to do.”
“It wasn’t hard. I don’t know why I didn’t like it. I thought I would, but I didn’t.”
“Don’t you have to take pictures for your blogs?”
“I have a ton of those. I post those, but scrapbooking is about memories.”
“You don’t have a lot of good ones, do you, Zoey?” He turned to face her, moving his arm around her waist.
“I have some, but none that I have pictures of. I had a little sister. I don’t even have a picture of her.”
Stump stroke her side, making sure to stop just below her breast. “Aren’t there some other family members you could contact who would have pictures?”
“I tried. My stepmother’s parents took a lot of pictures of Aubrey. And me, too. I called them to ask if I could have a few, and Tracy’s sister said she destroyed them because my father was in them.”
“Baby….” He had never choked up in his life, but after reading her letters and knowing what she lived through, it made him want to cry like a fucking baby. That she had been denied a picture of her baby sister had him wanting to rip her stepmother’s family to shreds.
Zoey had only been a child, and if they spent any time with her, they would have known how loving and sweet she was, and how much she cared for her little sister.
“I can’t blame them,” she continued. “I don’t want any pictures of him either. He wasn’t a nice person. He killed my stepmother and Aubrey.”
Stump pulled her closer, laying his cheek on the top of her head, not wanting her to see the emotion that was tearing him apart. “I’m sorry, baby.” He had to focus on the closet door to remain strong. Zoey needed something she never had before—a loving shoulder to cry on.
“I don’t want children ever.”
The revelation shocked him enough that he pulled back to stare into her face.
Zoey was made to be a mother. She was so nurturing and loving that any child she brought into this world would be the luckiest kid on earth.
“Tracy and Aubrey weren’t the first ones he killed. I think he killed my mother. The authorities tried to find her and couldn’t. Julian tried to help me find her, and we couldn’t. I only have an address.”
“Maybe the authorities didn’t look hard enough. I can help you look for her. Ice will help, too—”
“I don’t want to know anymore. I had to let her go. Dad got mad at me one time when I kept wanting to go back for my dog. I had told him I’d written my mom and she would go get Bandit for me. Dad laughed at me and said she could find him buried under the back porch. I don’t want to find out if he killed my mother, too. I don’t think I could bear it.”
“I don’t think you could either,” he said softly. “Just because he was fucked up doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have children. Monsters are made, not born.”
“I killed him, Stump. I shot him until I ran out of bullets, and I would have shot him more if I hadn’t, and I’m not sorry. I would do it again. I do in my dreams…. How can I have a child when I still feel that way?”
He brought his hand behind her head and started untying the knot that held her headband in place. “Maybe you let go of the wrong person in your life.”
She stilled her little hands that had still been stroking his chest. “What do you mean?”
“It wasn’t your mother you should have let go of. You have to let go of your father.”
“You think so?”
“I do.”
“Is your back better?” she asked, hesitantly resuming her stroking of his chest as she brought one hand to his arm, caressing the length of his bicep.
“Some.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.”
She slid her hand under his arm to gently massage his back. “It would be easier if you took your shirt off.”
“Help me sit up.”
Rising with her help, he then let her pull off his T-shirt, which she threw to the side of the bed.
“Lie back down slowly.”
“Okay.” Lying on his side, he tugged her back down, smoothing her hair back as she began massaging his back.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Baby, no. It feels good.” Her touch was so light it felt as if a dove’s wings were brushing over his skin. “You know what I see when I look at you?”
“What?”
“A beautiful dove that I want to reach out and touch. I’m afraid if I do, you’ll fly away.”
“I’m not going to fly away. I can’t,” Zoey whispered.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think I could leave you behind.”
“You’ll never have to run again. If you want to leave, you’ll be on the back of my bike.”
She massaged up the length of his spine. “I like touching you.”
“I like touching you, too,” he said huskily. “I want to kiss you, Zoey.”
“I want to kiss you, too,” she whispered, scooting closer to him.
“You go first. I don’t want to get any signals crossed.”
“I not very good. I’ve never kissed someone before.” Her lips were a hairsbreadth away from his, uncertainty glittering in her eyes.
“Good. I won’t have to fuck anyone up.”
In a slow movement, she broached the distance separating them. Groaning, he kissed her, which startled her and had her moving her mouth away.
“Did I hurt your back?”
“No, the only thing hurting me was watching you. You’re beautiful.”
“No, I’m an ordinary woman—”
“Baby, you couldn’t be ordinary if you tried. I’m going to prove that to you another time. Right now, though, I want you to kiss me again.”
“Still afraid you’re going to get your signals crossed?” she teased lightly,
brushing her mouth over his.
“A man can’t be too careful these days.” He let the tip of his tongue skim over her bottom lip.
“Stump…” Her tiny tongue sneaked out to stroke his back. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”
“I don’t?”
“I love you. I realized that tonight.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “When you pretended to be hurt. Any man who can swallow his pride just to get in my bed is a man worth me breaking my celibacy for.”
“What gave me away?”
“You forgot I work with men. Any other man would have crawled out of my living room, pretending he wasn’t hurt.”
“Damn, I should have thought of that. I’ll have to remember that for the next time I try to trick you.”
“You should. I’m not as naïve as you think,” she bragged.
“I see that.”
Using his shoulder, her nudged her until she was the one lying back on the bed. Looming over her, he caught her mouth in a kiss, delving deeply within to discover how she tasted on his tongue. Running his alongside hers, he felt her fingers travel over his chest and back, locating every nerve ending that had his cock nearly bursting out of his jeans.
Panting, he fell backward. “Lady, you learn quick.”
“I do… when I enjoy my lessons.” Laughing, she rested her head on his chest so she could stare up at him.
“You’ve gone past the lesson stage. You could teach me a thing or two now.”
Turning her head, she pressed kisses along his skin. Then, licking upward, she hovered over one of his nipples. “May I?”
“I can’t take anymore playing around,” he told her, then groaned when her pink tongue twirled around his nipple. “Give me a minute.”
She ignored him, licking her way back down his chest then pausing over the snap of his jeans. Raising her eyes to meet his, she started unsnapping his jeans.
He jerked out from underneath her to stand beside the bed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Zoey….”
She climbed off the bed to stand in front of him. Reaching down, she pulled her maxi dress up over her head, letting it fall to the floor at her feet.
His eyes fell to her breasts as she reached behind to unsnap her bra, letting it fall to the growing pile of clothes.
Unable to take his eyes off her, he took his wallet out from his back pocket and slipped out a condom before laying it on the nightstand.
“Take off your panties.”
He waited until she did.
“You’re too good for me, Zoey. I’m not the decent, hardworking man that I was before I joined the Predators. I’ve done things that would make you sick if I told you. I can’t make any promises that I won’t do them again. I’m not a Predator only because I belong to the club, but because I am one. If I was decent, I would walk out that door and let you keep your virginity so you could give it to another man. One who deserves you. But I’m not going to do that.” That said, Stump unsnapped his jeans, pulling them down to kick himself out of them. His long cock rose to his bellybutton, free from the confining jeans.
Opening the condom, he rolled it on before he wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her up into the air until she was eye-level. “I’m not going to make any promises to you I can’t keep—”
“I don’t need promises. My dad made promises my whole life, and he never kept one.”
“I keep my promises, always. I’m going to marry you whenever you want to set the date. I’m never going to cheat on you, and I’m never going to give you a reason to cry. I’d give you Hannibal to prove my love to you, but I don’t give anything away that belongs to me. So, baby, before you let me make sweet love to you, know that, if you do, you’re going to belong to me.”
Her lips trembled with laughter. “Do I have to wear a vest like Hannibal has to?”
“No.” He lowered her to the middle of the bed, covering her with his body. He spread her thighs wide with his so his cock could nestle against her pelvis. “You’re so fucking soft,” he moaned.
“It’s called fat.” An embarrassed flush covered her cheeks.
“It’s called heaven.”
Zoey was not fat, but she wasn’t skin and bones either. Her basket case of a father had subjected her to years of mental abuse that made her feel like she would never measure up to the ideal beauty that wasn’t attainable unless they were between the pages of a magazine.
He moved his hand to her thigh, gliding it up toward her pussy. Then he watched himself touch the wet, pink slit. It was like gliding on a piece of satin.
Grinding his teeth, he reminded himself to go slow, when what he wanted to do was bury his cock into the silky depths waiting for him.
Rubbing her clit, he caught her eyes as he raised his hand to his mouth, sucking a finger in. Growling, he then placed his hand back on her pussy.
“Baby, I’m going show you something you didn’t believe possible. I’m going to show you heaven on earth.”
Shifting under him, her expression was a cross between excitement and wariness.
Dipping a finger into her depths, he gently built the heat until she was as ready to combust as he was. His long hair concealed his face as he surrounded one of her nipples with his mouth, twirling his tongue over the tip as he moved his fingers deeper inside her.
He wanted their first time together to be something special, one that she would always remember as they grew old. An experience that she wouldn’t regret when it was over.
Sex had always just been a way to get his rocks off. He could fuck a woman and forget about her before he had time to put his boots back on. Most of the women he had been with the last couple of years considered it foreplay when he unzipped his jeans. Hell, forget the last couple of years; ever since he’d been fourteen, women had been begging him to scratch their itch. Zoey wasn’t the only one making love for the first time. It was his first time, too. He only felt pure lust when he fucked the others. With her, it was different. Lust had been over in a second. What he felt for Zoey had built into a fever pitch of desire that had him shaking to the point of embarrassing himself.
Releasing her peaked nipple, he laved the other breast that was begging for his attention. When she arched into his mouth, he teased her by sliding upward to her neck. She twisted her hands into his hair, wanting him to return to her breast.
Giving her what she wanted, he slid his mouth back to her breasts as he levered his cock at her opening. Tenderly, he stroked inside her with short thrusts. Raising his head, he then closed his mouth over hers as he shifted his weight over her, burying her into the soft mattress.
Each of his thrusts had Zoey clutching his shoulders in a death grip.
“Are you okay?” he gritted out between his teeth.
“I think so.”
“Do you want me to stop?” It would kill him if she said yes, but he would.
“No!”
Her movements awkward and inexperienced, Stump gripped her hips, showing her the rhythm that would give her the most pleasure.
Instead of driving her toward orgasm, he slowed his movements, gently leading her into a whirlpool that she wouldn’t be able to escape. He didn’t want her to experience ecstasy; he intended her to find a Nirvana that would keep Zoey chained to his side with golden links that couldn’t be broken.
You couldn’t keep a dove tethered to the ground. You had to give them a reason to want to stay. If his love wasn’t strong enough to keep her tethered to him, he had to use his body as a lure. There was more than one way to clip a dove’s wings.
22
Zoey felt as if she were a puddle under Stump. Each stroke had her quivering under his touch. The friction his penis was creating inside heated her to a boiling point that had her feeling as if she would evaporate and never be seen again.
He held her in place as he thrust in and out of her, the burning sensation becoming more and more painful. She had to bite back a pain-filled gasp as his thrusts inc
reased the urgency that had her thighs gripping his buttocks to press him down on her.
“Am I hurting you?” He licked the corner of her lips. Parting them, she tried to catch his with hers.
“No.” She released a puff of air at the strength of his plunging penis.
“Then, why did you say ow?”
Staring up into his penetrating gaze, she was afraid he would stop if she admitted the truth.
“I didn’t. I said wow, because that feels good.” Despite herself, she tried to burrow her bottom into the mattress, clenching against the invasion that felt as if it was tearing her apart.
“I know the difference between ow and wow.” Chuckling, he buried his face in her neck. “Relax, Zoey. You’re tensing, and it’s making it more painful for you.”
“I don’t mean to,” she panted out as he plunged again. “Are we done yet?”
“Baby, if you have to ask me that question, then no, we aren’t.”
“Is it in yet?”
“Almost.” Another thrust and she felt as if she was being torn in two.
“The worst is over.” He moved his hands between them as he rocked back and forth inside her, each glide of his penis moving easier within her until the burning sensation stopped, and then she began moving feverishly against him.
“More….” Twining her hands through his hair, she moved his mouth back to hers, needing another intimate connection to him.
She kissed him viciously, just as he pounded into her, both battling to outdo the other.
“You feeling better?”
She nodded, moaning into his mouth.
The battle between them was one she had no ability to win. She was too inexperienced to be the victor, yet she was a fast learner, and she was going to make sure that Crush had spent the last night in Stump’s bed she was ever going to. Zoey would make sure of that.
Jolting spasms began, like a fuse had been ignited inside. It had a scream building.
She tore her mouth away from his to bite down on his shoulder. In a haze, she wanted to break away from him, afraid that, if she didn’t, there would be no part of her left. She felt like she needed to keep a small part of her soul intact. What if Stump decided he wanted someone else? What if he grew tired of her?
