Fury (New Adult Romance) - #1.5 Fierce Series

by Clarissa Wild

  But I stay here, firm, like a rock. She needs to see that I can be more than what she thinks of me. That she can find comfort in me like I can find it in her.

  Tears roll down her cheeks, and she steps back into the shadows of the room. I step closer, gently placing my hand on her arm, tugging her closer. She’s finally letting go of all the fear, the anger, the hurt, and I’m the cushion on which she can let it all out. I know how important it can be to have someone to lean on, because for me that person was taken away from me the moment they put him in jail. And I don’t ever want her to feel that too.

  She buries her face in my chest, and I hold her as close to me as possible. I pet her hair, shushing her, but my body’s quickly heating up from her touch. Having her in my arms like this lights me on fire, making me hyper aware of her body folded into mine, but I can’t let my cock distract me right now. This is not the time.

  My shirt is getting wetter by the second, her tears flooding out like she just opened all the gates to her emotions. I feel like I need to be there for her now, just like she was there for me when I needed her, even though I couldn’t accept her help. We cling to each other in a desperate attempt to feel loved. I’ll be here for her. I won’t let her fall.

  “Shit …” she mutters.

  “What?” She shouldn’t be talking right now, but I don’t want to be blunt.

  “I didn’t want to cry.”

  I chuckle, but slam my mouth shut once I realize I am. It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be laughing about this, but neither should she be worried about crying. It happens. I cried in front of her too. There’s nothing wrong with that. Crying relieves the agony, it numbs the pain. And she really has nothing to fear. Unlike me.

  “Do you?” she asks.

  I can’t believe she’s asking me this question. She saw it happening with her own eyes. I think she’s just trying to make me feel better about crying in front of her, which is sweet but silly. “When things happen, yes. You’ve seen it,” I say.

  Her sigh is dragged out with numerous hiccups in between. She shifts in my arms and rests her head against my chest. It feels nice to hold her like this. It makes me forget everything that’s happening, makes me completely focused on her. Although I’m not exactly sure if that’s a good thing. I don’t want to drag her into my mess, but I don’t ever want to see her being taken advantage of again. She needs to be strong, fit, and powerful. She should fight for her life, for her honor, for the people she loves, just like me. And I think I can show her how.

  “I could help you, you know,” I say.

  “With what?” she says, leaning back while wiping her tears away.

  She looks up at me for a second. Her eyes are all red and swollen, but she still looks fucking beautiful. When she’s not making me rock hard, she’s turning me into a pile of mush.

  One thing’s for sure though: I’m not leaving this room before she says ‘yes’ to me helping her. “Teach you some moves.”

  She stares at me in befuddlement, her lips parting. “What … you mean … You want me to learn how to fight?”

  I gently push her forward, trying to get her to really look me in the eye. To think about what I’m saying. She needs to learn how to be strong. “Do you want to stop those assholes from taking advantage of you again or not? I’m not always going to be there to save you.”

  Well, I’d love to, of course. There’s nothing I’d rather do than protect her and show her I’m capable of doing good. I can’t help but say, “At least … not unless you want me to.” My eyebrows raise as I think about swooping her up into my arms and throwing her onto the bed, kissing her plump pink lips.

  Enough fantasies for today. “Anyway, I know just how.” Now’s the time to bring up my amazing plan. I’ll teach her, if she teaches me. It’s not wrong if we both take advantage of each other, now, is it? “But it’ll cost you something,” I add.

  She freezes, jamming her legs together like she just heard me say the craziest, most outrageous thing. Of course, my eyes swipe over her body, taking in those thighs as that’s where my attention is drawn when she’s acting prudish all of a sudden. Damn, she’s got some nice legs, though. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into her.

  “I’m not some kind of―”

  “Bookworm?” I interrupt her, just in case she was about to say something she’d regret later.

  She lingers on her words for a second. “Excuse me?”

  “That’s what I need,” I say, trying to get it through her head.

  “You. You need me?” She points at herself like she can’t believe what I’m saying. What does she want me to do? Beg her? No way that’s ever going to happen. I don’t plead for anything; I make girls beg for mercy.

  But … I suppose I should ask her a little more nicely. “Help me with studying.”

  Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. Is it really that hard to believe that I could use her help?

  “Well … this is new,” she jests.

  Oh, fuck me, now she’s the one teasing me. Well, I’m not playing around this time. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you, I think it’s important, but there are other … things in my life right now that make it … difficult, to say the least.” I clear my throat. “So, are you in or not?”

  “Uh … Yeah, sure.”

  I glance sideways and pick up a book lying on her bedside table. “If you help me with this, I’ll teach you how to defend yourself.”

  “All right. Deal.” She lurches forward, trying to grab the book, but I’m quicker. It’s already way up in the air, and I’m seeing her jump up and down, her tits swaying in her shirt again. Gotta love that.

  A wicked smile forms on my lips as I realize everything is turning out exactly the way I wanted. “Great. Then let’s get started.”

  I always get what I want.

  Chapter 15

  Trying to Make the Best of It

  She follows me into my room, trailing behind me. I place her book on my desk, while checking out the clock. Jaret will be back in a few, and I don’t want him to know I’m doing this. Not because I care about him seeing me study, but because of what he could tell the gang if he saw me studying with Leafy. It’s her I’m worried about. He can’t know she’s helping me. If he tells the rest of the gang, she’d be in danger. Not to mention the fact that they can’t know I have other things on my mind besides dealing drugs. This needs to stay between the two of us.

  “We’ve got an hour or two. My roommate will be back by then.”

  “What does him coming back have to do with us studying?” she asks, looking around.

  I sit down on my bed, running my fingers through my hair. “Can’t have him see me read a book.” I’m just making it up as I go along really. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass whether he sees me with a book. I care about her safety.

  She squints, and a smile forms on her face that’s just so cheeky. Curious. Sexy. Hmm …

  “What? Are you serious?” she says.

  I’m fucking serious about wanting to take her in my bed, yeah. “I’m dead serious.”

  She leans against the table, her hips swaying, showing me her deliciously curved body. It’s making me hard just watching her defiance. “It’s just a book.”

  Of course it’s just a book, but I have to keep the gang in mind here. They won’t accept me spending time on something other than dealing. “Not to them. They’d kick my ass if they saw me trying too hard. Nah, I gotta fit in.”

  “With who?”

  It frustrates me no end when she’s so persistent. Maybe I should just shut her up with a kiss.

  I sigh. What am I thinking? “No one.”

  I’m not going to talk about it any further. I’m not wasting any more of the little time we have together. I want her to come sit next to me, so I pat the bed and say, “Sit down.” My voice is hard, unrestrained, and I know it’s because of her. The continuous battle with her feelings for me makes me want to lay her under me and settle this once and for all with a good fuck. />
  She pussyfoots her way to me, careful not to touch me as she sits down. Coward.

  “It’s healing quite nicely,” she says, checking out my wounds. Nice way to avoid having to talk about kissing me, which I know she wants badly. I can tell from her hungering eyes she can’t wait to put her lips on me. Too bad she’s not listening to her own desires.

  She pulls up one of the bandages, and I wince. “Yeah, about that, do you think we could take off the bandage? I don’t really want to go out into the world looking like I have a war wound,” I say.

  She laughs. “Sure. I didn’t know you were that insecure.”

  Insecure, my ass. I don’t want the gang to see this. That’s all. “I’m not. I just don’t want them to ask any questions.”

  Her eyes narrow as she starts peeling off the bandages layer by layer. I follow her every movement, taking pleasure in the fact that her tits are yet again right in my face. I can’t help looking at her perky tits. If she keeps flaunting them like this, I might rip off her shirt and lick them. I wonder what shade of pink her nipples are.

  She rasps her throat, and after checking if my wound is okay, her cheeks flush as she moves back to her side of the bed again.

  “Are you afraid they’ll ask you why you were in a fight?” she asks.

  Ha. She doesn’t even know how ridiculous that sounds. Of course they know. She just doesn’t know. “Oh, no. They know already.”

  “Then what? You’re afraid to look weak?”

  Fuck. She’s really digging now. I don’t want to admit it, but it’s true, but it’s not for the reasons she thinks. I hate the way she makes it sound. I’m not afraid to look weak. I just know the gang won’t accept it. I’m driven to climb up in their ranks, and I will sacrifice everything I have to get there, even my pride.

  “What does it matter what they think? You were the one who told me that the only thing that matters is what you think of yourself,” she says calmly.

  Well, she’s got me there. I frown, looking down at the floor. She confronts me with the things I’d rather not think about. “I said that because it’s true, but my situation is a little more complicated than that. I need to be fit and ready, at all times.”

  “For what? Fighting?”

  I ball my hands into fists and let out a huge sigh. I feel like there’s so much resting on my shoulders right now, and I don’t want to dump it all onto her, although I’m dying to let it out. I look at the bruises on my hands, and I’m suddenly aware of the pain in my head. It’s like her questions bring back the pain or something. Or maybe I was just denying it was there before.

  I reach over to my fridge and take out a bottle of water so I can cool my face.

  “I fight because I have to,” I say.

  “Why?”

  Goddammit. Why does she keep bugging me with this? Why can’t she just let it go? Is it that important to her to know what I’m doing? It sounds like she’s worried about me all the time. She shouldn’t be. It’s not her problem to deal with.

  “Stop asking so many questions. I saved your ass. That’s the only thing you need to know.”

  She shifts in her position and leans away. Shit. Maybe that was a little too blunt.

  “Thank you for helping me back there. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be …” She pauses for a moment, and I know exactly why. The word ‘rape’ frightens her, and it should. It’s fucking insane to think they almost did that to her. “How come you were there anyway?” she asks.

  I really don’t want to tell her. I realize it might be my fault they went after her in the first place, and I feel so fucking guilty about it. If only I was paying attention and didn’t answer the phone, I could’ve intercepted them, and this whole thing would never have happened.

  “I was watching them. Still pissed I didn’t spot them leaving the joint. Otherwise I would’ve been there way quicker,” I answer.

  But fuck me, it did happen, and now we have to live with the consequences.

  “You were watching them?” she says, surprised. Shit, maybe I’ve said too much. I don’t want her to know, because I don’t want to give her more reasons to despise me. The best thing to do right now is just shut up and let this be, so I stop talking.

  “Well, your wounds look like they’ve healed quite nicely. Should be no more than a couple of days before the scars are completely gone.”

  She’s changed the topic. Good. Saves me from having to be a dick.

  I try to lighten the mood by making a stupid joke. “Too bad. I kinda liked the idea of looking like a pirate. Yaaargh!” I make a hook with my fingers and wink at her. She blushes and giggles, and the sound makes me lick my lips.

  She opens the books stacked beside her on the bed and picks up a couple of papers and a few pens. She immediately starts outlining all the work that I haven’t finished and how long it will take to get it done. She’s meticulous and organized, and she easily figures out the best route to take for me to catch up on all my classes. It’s amazing to see the way she makes this all so easy. It shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. She really is a big help, and I appreciate it.

  I’m working my way through a book with her help, reading the passages out loud, trying to force my brain to remember. It’s just no use. Each time she quizzes me I fail, and it’s fucking embarrassing.

  I groan and throw the book across the room in frustration. I can never fucking get it right! Dammit. “Enough for today. I’m fucking tired already.”

  “But we haven’t even started yet,” she says.

  She gets up and walks across the room. I sigh and lie down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I’m done trying to make my brain do things it can’t. I thought if I sat down with her it could work, but I’m starting to wonder if it really will. Can she really help me? Or are we just not going about it the right way?

  I get up and see her standing near my bookcase, checking out all my books, her fingers drifting over them like they’re treasures to her. They probably are. To me, they’re just books I used to read, but can’t remember a thing from.

  Her curly hair drops down her shoulders and gently wafts back and forth, and it complements her beautiful body. I like looking at her; the way her feet barely make any sound as they touch the floor, the curves and lines of her body, the way she explores my secrets with great interest. Her luscious, perky ass catches my attention as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Thoughts about grabbing her ass and pinning her to my bookcase shoot through my mind. I can’t stop looking. And I can’t stop licking my lips in anticipation of what could happen if I just took what I wanted. And what I want is her.

  I’m not even thinking about it before stalking toward her. I want her so badly, the wantonness is taking control of my mind. Consuming me. I need to be close to her, need to know what she’s thinking when she sees the real me. I need her to tell me she’ll accept me the way I am.

  Before I know it, I’m up against her back, breathing in and out like the horny motherfucker I am. I’m enthralled by her pinewood scent and inhale it as much as I can. She’s like a drug to me, one that can take away the pain. I need her.

  She’s frozen in place, her breath hitching in her throat. I watch her fingers linger on a book, and I say, “I used to read a lot when I was little.”

  “I can see …” she mumbles.

  “You like books a lot, don’t you?” I lower my head and lean over her shoulder, trying to peer into her vast eyes. She’s shivering in place, her body giving in to temptation by leaning against mine. Hmmm … I love the feel of that. Makes me want to dig my fingers into her hip and grind up against her. It’s hard not to.

  She takes in a sharp breath, but it’s not because of what I thought, which was me. “Oh my God! You’ve read Harry Potter? God, it’s been ages since I last saw that book.”

  I laugh, and she turns around with her eyes wide open and her lips parted in a way that makes me want to push my tongue inside her mouth.

  But the way she talks makes me thin
k she’s surprised by the fact that I actually read. “I told you, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Reading is … difficult. But if I have the patience, I enjoy it.”

  I step closer, towering over her, giving me a sense of power. It’s hard not to take advantage of the situation right now, but I’m holding back as much as I can. I don’t think it’s wise to start this with her. We both might want it, but that doesn’t make it okay.

  I reach for the book she was looking at and take it out. If she likes it so much, she should have it. There’s not much I can do, but if this makes her happy, then why not?

  “You can have it.” I hold out the book in front of her, and she can barely take it from my hands without looking like she’s about to faint. She stutters, and I’m not sure what she wants to say, but I can sure as hell tell she’s just as affected by me as I am by her. She’s all that’s on my mind the moment I’m around her, and I’m going crazy with desire. Adrenaline pumps through my body, my blood thickening my cock, stretching my pants to the limit. She’s here, right now, and I could take her and make her mine.

  I could.

  But somehow it doesn’t feel right. Not after what those fucking assholes did to her back at the Denny’s joint. Not after what I’m doing in the gang. It feels so fucking wrong, I just … can’t.

  I blow out a breath, trying to rid myself of all these hormones. “Well, I guess we should call it a day for now. Let’s continue tomorrow,” I say while taking a step back and opening the door.

  She should leave, before the urge to throw her onto my bed becomes too strong to fight.

  She smiles shortly, caught by surprise, and draws in a deep breath. “Yeah, sure.”

  I hear a hint of disappointment in her voice. I know she wants this as much as I do, but it’s not right and she knows it. She deserves someone who’s nice to her, and all I’ve been is a prick. Well, it’s for her own good. It’s better for her not to like me, if she wants to stay safe.

  “Cool,” I say, trying not to sound affected. “See you tomorrow then?”

  She keeps the book close to her chest as she walks out the door. She nods, and I nod, and it’s some sort of silent agreement not to make more of this than it is. We both know what the deal is.