by Susan Stoker
“Move, Nathan,” she ordered in a croak.
He did. Pulling out almost all the way, then pushing back in until he couldn’t get inside her any farther. He did it again and again, feeling her inner muscles flutter against his cock as he moved in and out.
She moved her free hand up to her chest and pulled at her nipple, hard. Again, making a mental note, Nathan lost his control for the first time. Seeing her under him, giving herself pleasure as he took her, was more than he could take. He shoved inside her roughly, grunting as his balls bounced off her ass. He did it again. Not pulling out all the way now, but keeping a constant friction against the sensitive head of his cock.
Every time he bottomed out inside her, she thrust her hips into him, forcing him to hit harder inside her than he’d planned. He wondered for a moment if he was hitting her G-spot with every thrust, but before he could experiment, she lost it.
“Nathan. God, yes!” she said as she squeezed the ever-loving shit out of his cock.
He managed four more thrusts, pushing through her muscles, which were strangling his dick, before he shoved inside her as far as he could go and let himself go.
The orgasm was longer, stronger, and more devastating than any he’d ever had in his life. His come seemed to erupt from his balls forever, filling the condom until he thought it’d either break or overflow. But throughout it all he kept his eyes open and on Bailey’s face.
Knowing he’d actually given her pleasure made his orgasm that much better.
He pulled the pillow out from under her ass, then eased down next to her, putting most of his weight on his side, and turning her so he stayed inside her as they both came down from their orgasms.
“Holy crap,” Bailey whispered when she finally caught her breath. “Are you even real?”
Nathan chuckled. “Have you ever seen the movie Revenge of the Nerds?”
At that, her head came up, and she looked at him as if he were insane.
“Uh, yeah . . . who hasn’t? And what does that have to do with anything?”
“Betty asks Lewis if all nerds are as good in bed as he is. And he says, ‘Yes, because all jocks ever think about is sports, and all nerds ever think about is sex.’”
Bailey burst into giggles before she said, “If you tell me you have a Darth Vader costume and you want to have sex while you’re wearing it, I’m gonna have to pass.”
Nathan smiled down at the woman in his arms. His heart hurt with how much he loved her. “I don’t have a Darth helmet, but I’m happy to get one if you wanna play.”
She giggled again and nuzzled her face into his chest, throwing her leg around his hip. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Nathan asked, genuinely curious.
“For caring. For making that so wonderful. For not treating me as a hole to stick your dick into.”
Nathan stiffened, but forced himself to relax. “I love you, Bailey. You and Joel mean the world to me. And anyone who does or says anything to hurt you will have to deal with me.”
She picked her head up and kissed the underside of his jaw. “And I’ll be there to deal with anyone who calls you a nerd or says shit about you, since I know you won’t do it yourself.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” he reassured her.
“I know, but it bothers me,” Bailey mumbled.
Smiling, loving that she cared enough about him to give a shit if someone called him white trash, or a geek, or any other name. Nathan sighed. She hadn’t said she loved him, but it was a start.
As he’d sighed, his now-soft cock slowly slid out of Bailey’s body, and she giggled. Nathan mock-glared at her. “Not funny.”
She rolled onto her back and reached for the sheet crumpled under her. “Go take care of that condom. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Nathan sat up, kissed her on the nose, and said, “You better be.”
When he returned from the bathroom, he carried a warm, wet washcloth. He sat on the side of the bed next to Bailey and held it out, a little unsure. “I brought this for you . . . it’s warm. I didn’t know if you wanted to clean up.”
She stared up at him, not saying anything.
“You don’t have to use it,” he mumbled and went to stand back up.
“Yes, please. I’m sorry, you surprised me. No one has ever done that for me before.” She held out her hand, and Nathan put the cloth in her hand. It disappeared under the covers, and he held eye contact with her as she cleaned herself. She blushed and brought her hand back up and out from under the sheet.
He took the quickly cooling washcloth from her and dropped it on the floor without a thought. He pulled back the sheet and settled in next to her. He groaned in contentment when Bailey immediately snuggled up into him. Her head resting on his shoulder, her arm around his belly, and her leg hooked with his.
“Sleep well, Bailey,” Nathan murmured.
“You too,” she said back, already sounding half-asleep.
Memorizing the moment, Nathan lay awake for a long time, listening to Bailey’s soft exhales as she lay boneless and trusting in his arms.
Finally, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, happier than he’d been in his entire life.
Chapter Twenty-One
With every day that went by, Nathan got more and more tense. It had been more than two weeks since he’d spoken with his brothers about Donovan, and they’d made a preliminary plan. The fact that they couldn’t find the gang leader was putting them all on edge.
The man was out there. Somewhere. And breathing down Bailey’s neck. He knew it. She knew it. They’d had a long discussion the other night about what Donovan was capable of and what he was likely to do when he showed up.
As much as Nathan wanted to reassure Bailey that her ex wouldn’t get his hands on her, he couldn’t. They both knew it was simply a matter of time. They’d argued about what Joel should do when Donovan finally made his move. Bailey didn’t want to talk to him about Donovan at all, while Nathan argued that he should have some idea of what might happen.
“He’s not strong enough,” Bailey huffed. “He’s still having nightmares, and the psychologist says that he’s still working through the shit Donovan exposed him to.”
“I realize that, but do you really want the asshole to show up and not have Joel prepared? I think if we let him know what we’re planning and give him a role, it’ll give him a sense of empowerment. It’ll make him feel less helpless. The last thing we want is for Donovan to surprise him.”
Bailey had hemmed and hawed and finally given in. They’d sat the boy down and told him that they thought Donovan would be showing up soon and what they thought he wanted—namely, to use Joel to hurt Bailey.
The little boy had seemed okay with everything they’d said, but the next day around lunchtime, Nathan received a phone call from him.
“Hello?”
“Nathan?”
“Hey, Joel. Are you okay?” Nathan asked urgently.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Should you be using your phone right now?”
“It’s lunch. I’m allowed,” Joel reassured him.
“Okay. What’s up, buddy?”
He paused for a moment, then said quickly, “I don’t wanna go with Donovan.”
Nathan closed his eyes and silently sighed. He prayed he would say the right thing to make Joel feel better. “I don’t want you to either. No way in hell. But, buddy, we should be smart. I can probably overpower him in the short term, but he won’t fight fair.”
“I’m scared,” Joel whispered.
“I’m not all that thrilled myself,” Nathan told him honestly. “But here’s the thing. Between the three of us, I’m sure we can come up with a plan. I’ve already been talking to my brothers, and we have some ideas. One of them could work, but it depends on you to make it work.”
“Me? Really?”
Nathan heard the interest in the little boy’s voice and was glad to know he’d banished some of his fear for now. “Really. But i
t’s tricky, and a little dangerous. Not to mention if Donovan figures out what we’re doing, it could backfire.”
“We can do it. He’s not that smart. You’re way smarter than he is,” Joel said without an ounce of doubt in his voice.
The confidence Joel had in him made Nathan feel ten feet tall. He couldn’t let him down. “Good boy. Okay, I’ll talk to your sister in a bit when we have lunch.” He paused, then asked, “You gonna be all right for the rest of the day?”
“Yeah, Nathan. I’m good.”
“Okay then. I’ll be there to pick you up in a few hours. Try not to worry. We got this.”
“Yeah. We got this. ’Bye.”
“’Bye.”
Nathan had hung up the phone and clenched his teeth. He hated that Joel was scared of Donovan. Hated that he felt the tension in the air. But he really hated that he had to involve the boy in the plan to take down Donovan at all. But as much as he hated it, he knew using Joel was most likely to work.
Nathan knew something had to give with Bailey. She was at the end of her rope. He’d called Clayson and asked if Bailey could have the afternoon off, and he’d agreed, obviously knowing Bailey needed a break.
But when Nathan strolled into the auto body shop, calling out greetings to the guys, and told Bailey that he was taking her home for the rest of the afternoon, she wasn’t happy, to say the least.
“I’ve got shit to do. I can’t just leave,” she told Nathan.
“You can. I already asked Clayson, and he agreed,” he told her calmly.
“No fucking way. Rent is coming up next week, and I need to go to the store. Joel needs a new pair of jeans because he’s growing like a weed, and frankly, I don’t want to go.”
Nathan walked right up to her, clasped his hand behind her neck, leaned his forehead on hers, and said quietly, “You need a break, pixie. You’ve been going a hundred miles an hour for over a week. Spend the afternoon with me. Just the two of us. We’ll eat lunch, then we need to talk. After that we can spend the rest of the time we have until we need to pick up Joel in bed . . . and you don’t have to worry about being quiet . . . yeah?”
As if his touch and words were magic, she melted into him, her arms going around his waist. Her eyes closed and she murmured, “I’m so tired.”
“I know you are. Let me help. Lean on me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Nathan immediately turned them, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and led her out of the large bay doors and into the Colorado sunshine. With a wave to Clayson, who was watching from his office door, he led Bailey to his car.
Nathan knew Bailey was irritable. She was irritable because she was stressed. And she was stressed because she was on edge. She was on edge because she knew Donovan wanted to get his hands on her. And because she was worried about her brother.
He wanted to give them both this time together. To talk about Joel and Donovan, but also just to relax for a couple of hours.
Nathan drove to her house since it was closer and got her settled on the couch with a glass of lemonade while he made a quick lunch of turkey-and-cheese sandwiches.
After they ate, Nathan pulled Bailey into his arms in their customary slouch position, and he got to it.
“Tonight we need to talk to Joel about what to do when Donovan shows up.”
Bailey stiffened and sat up. “No, I don’t want to—”
“He called me today,” Nathan interrupted. “Scared out of his mind that Donovan was going to force him to go with him back up to Denver. If we could keep him out of this, I would do it in a heartbeat. I’d send him to live with Logan or Blake, but we both know that won’t stop Donovan. He’s out there. Watching us. I can feel it, and I think you can too. He’s biding his time. He wants to torture you. Make you regret leaving him. He knows we’re together, and I think that’s why he’s been holding off. He’s trying to figure me out and make a plan. But we’re running out of time, and the last thing I want is for Joel to freak when Donovan makes his move.”
Bailey sank back into his arms and pressed her face into his neck. “I hate this,” she said fervently. “I hate him.”
“I know.”
They were both silent for a moment before Bailey tentatively asked, “Do you have a plan?”
“I do,” Nathan said immediately. “Logan and Blake helped me work out the kinks. I won’t lie. It’s dangerous, but in light of what Donovan wants—namely, Joel, and to torture you, I think it can work. But most of it is going to rest on Joel’s shoulders. And before you protest, he can handle it. I know it.”
Bailey was silent so long, Nathan wasn’t sure she was going to respond. Finally, she said in a soft, pained voice, “This is all my fault.”
“No,” Nathan barked immediately, making Bailey jump. “Don’t do that. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for Donovan to rape you. To mark you without your permission. To treat you like shit and try to corrupt your brother.”
“But if I—”
“Bailey, no.”
She sat up and tried to pull out of Nathan’s arms, but he wouldn’t let her.
“Let me talk! I—”
“I said no,” Nathan interrupted once more. “You’re gonna spout some bullshit about how you were his girlfriend and should’ve known better. Should’ve kept Joel away from him. Blah, blah, blah. But it is bullshit. He took advantage of you just like he takes advantage of everyone around him. He’s an asshole. Not a good man. You were young and dealing with hormones, then later, the loss of your pa and trying to raise a little boy. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault.”
Bailey tore out of his arms and stood. Without another word, she tore off her shirt and turned her back to Nathan. “Yeah? Then how’s this. I was his whore, Nathan. An Inca Boyz slut. I let them use me. I let them fuck me any way they wanted, whenever they wanted. And I liked it . . . at least at first. But that doesn’t matter. I was and always will be Donovan’s fucking whore.”
Nathan stared at the obscene words on Bailey’s lower back.
PROPERTY OF INCA BOYZ
D’S WHORE
He wished Donovan was in front of him right now. He’d kill him. Slowly. The man was evil. Pure evil.
He had no idea what the right words were. No idea what to say to get through to her. To let her know that her past didn’t matter to him, except that it made her the person she was today. The woman he loved with all his heart and soul. Nathan dropped to his knees and shuffled over to Bailey. She was breathing hard and had her arms wrapped around her waist defensively.
“This is what you’ve been hiding from me.” It wasn’t a question, and Nathan went on. “You are nobody’s property, pixie. And you are certainly no whore. I have never met anyone who has impressed me with their strength more than you.”
“I’m contaminated,” Bailey said sadly. “I shouldn’t have let you touch me.”
“The last week or so has been the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life,” he told her honestly. “And it’s not just because we’ve made love. What truly has filled my heart with contentment is you and Joel. Spending time with you. Laughing. Helping Joel with his homework and seeing his eyes light up when he understands a math problem for the first time. Seeing you sitting on the couch doing nothing but reading. Sleeping next to you. Feeling your heat against me, hearing you breathing as you trust me enough to fall asleep next to me. I’ve never had that. Not once in my life, Bailey.” He leaned forward and kissed the skin on her lower back, not caring about the words inked there.
“I won’t lie. I want to fucking kill that bastard. The thought of what you went through at his hands makes me want to hunt him down and kill him slowly and painfully. But that won’t take away your memories. Won’t take back what happened to you. But what he did makes him the asshole. Not you.”
He paused, letting his words sink in, resting his forehead against the warm skin of Bailey’s back.
She shivered. Maybe in revulsion. Maybe in response to his warm breath against her sens
itive skin. He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to let her leave until they’d hashed this out. Until she understood to the marrow of her bones that he didn’t care about what her asshole ex tattooed on her skin.
“I’m afraid you’re going to see it down the line and regret hooking up with a gang whore.” Her words were barely audible, and filled with pain.
Staying on his knees, Nathan turned Bailey until she was facing him. He put his hands on her waist, his thumbs against her belly, and looked up. “There’s nothing about you I regret. Not one single thing. Bailey, we are a product of our pasts. We can’t go back and change that. My mom killed my dad. I’m the son of a murderer. Does that make you want to run?”
She shook her head. “Of course not.”
“My mom used to beat me. Do you think because of that I’m going to start hitting Joel?”
“Nathan, no, but it’s not the same.”
“Our past is just that. The past. Our future is what we make of it. We can be bitter and pissed off . . . or we can move forward. I want to move forward with you, pixie. The only thing this tattoo on your back makes me feel is more anger toward the asshole who put it there. You are no whore, Bailey. Not even close.”
“I didn’t want him to do it, but he didn’t give me a choice. He held me down and laughed when I cried. It’s ugly. I hate it.”
Nathan tensed, not wanting to hear the details, but at the same time needing to know exactly what happened so he could make Donovan pay for every tear, every mark on Bailey’s body, but he held on to his temper.
“Bailey,” Nathan said with all the feeling he could put into his words, “I love you. The good, the bad, and the ugly—not that you have much bad or ugly. I know you’re not perfect, but this”—he moved his hands until they were pressed against her lower back—“isn’t either. It’s skin-deep. That’s it.”
“I want to get it covered,” she said immediately. “Felicity said she’d take me to a guy she knows and trusts. I don’t know what I want, but it should be something that represents my new life. Away from Denver. Away from the Inca Boyz.” She took a deep breath, then said, “With you.”
