Parole

by Kathy Coopmans

  She’s more exquisite than I dreamed she would be. This is the first time we’ve seen what the other person looks like. The one time she said she sent me photos of herself, the prison had taken them before they gave me the letter. At the time I was pissed, threw a motherfucking fit. But now, as I see her peering up at me, I’m thankful they did, because as I stare down at her tiny frame, her full lips, her gorgeous smile, I would have gone even more out of my mind with regret in knowing she was out there while I couldn’t do a damn thing to help her.

  “Oh, my God, Trent, it’s really you.” Fuck me. Her voice is sweet and sexy. It calls out to me in all kinds of ways. For help. For love. For safety. Eternally. And the way she says my name has me closing my eyes, clenching my fist until I feel pain ricochet up my arms not to reach out and touch her flowery-scented flesh. My skin scorches from the powerful passion bouncing back and forth between us. My veins start a blistering blaze inside of me, and I ignite everywhere. I open my eyes wide. I need answers.

  “Where have you been, Tara?” I bite out a little more than she deserves. I can’t fucking help it. She was excited to be a part of this. Of us. She quit returning my letters when I told her all about the house and how truly perfect it was for her.

  I’ve been waiting here with dying hopes for her to get her ass to me. Every part of me wants to reach out and haul her sexy little frame into my arms. Carry her inside and taste every inch of her. Sink inside of the only woman my fucked-up self has honestly ever wanted. The only woman besides my mom who made me feel I’m worthy of happiness. Knowing that from the first letter I received from her that she was meant to be mine and not made for someone else.

  She sighs, dropping her loving gaze from mine. The blood flows from the tips of my fingers and up my arm to guide my stiff hand out and tip her chin up to look at me, but I’m not allowing myself the pleasure of touching her anywhere else yet. Not until I know she’s here to stay and this isn’t a game to her.

  I would die if this wasn’t as real to her as it is for me. I would honest to God take my last breath if the things we intimately shared on paper weren’t brought to life and meant as much to her as they do to me. That’s how much I love her.

  “Tara, you need to look at me. I’ve only begun to get my fill of those eyes I’ve dreamed what they would look like as they dug deep into my soul, seeing my nakedness and accepting me for the man I really am. Don’t look away from me, and don’t ever look down. I’m not him. You don’t need to submit to me or look at me only when I tell you to. I want to see you as much as you want to see me. Look at me, please?” Motherfucking shit. He’s treated her so poorly that she can’t even look up. What in the ever-loving fuck? My body shakes.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers. Hell to the motherfucking no, she did not just apologize for him. I swallow down the anger I want to bark out and slice him open on her behalf; only it’s not her who needs to hear it. It’s him.

  He’s done something to her. That’s the only reason she wouldn’t have contacted me. He forced her to do something she didn’t want to. Took away the few privileges he thinks he’s so graciously given her, like he’s done before.

  “Don’t do this. Don’t bring him to my doorstep. Our doorstep. There is nothing for you to be sorry about. Nothing. You’re here. We're together. Do you have any idea what that means, Tara? It means everything. Where is that woman who would tell me her deepest sexual fantasies? Where is the girl who told me she wanted to ride my cock and fuck my face? I need to see her. The brave woman who left a man who doesn’t deserve her. Any woman who walks away from a man who takes a woman as kind as you for granted is strong. Don’t you dare take those steps backward when you’ve fought hard to put one foot in front of the other and walk away, do you hear me? Be strong. Show me that woman.”

  Right now, I would give just about anything to be the man I used to be, so I could fuck him up before I left him somewhere to rot. I would have him on his knees begging me to take his life. I would cut every single one of his fingers off. Feed them to some wild animal that was caged in, waiting with a hungry look in its eyes to tear every limb from that piece of scum’s body.

  I relax when she finally lifts her head and looks at me. Tears are ready to burst free, but whether it’s from my words or the strength I know she possesses, not one single tear falls from her green eyes. “Lucian’s been traveling all across the country for work. He forced me to go with him, Trent. Locked me up in a fancy suite with his bodyguard while he was out working and doing God knows what. I’ve been going out of my mind trying to figure out how to escape. I had to wait until we returned home to make a plan. I wanted to surprise you, so I called Adrian to help me get here instead of you. I’m so sorry to have made you worry. I just couldn’t compromise us any more than we were already doing. I had to make sure we were going to be safe until we figured out how to permanently free myself from him.” Motherfucker. He’s a dead man.

  “Are you telling me you’ve been locked in a room for months?” I keep my tone calm. The last thing she needs right now is for me to be harsh. Memories flood my head. They drown my thoughts and scrape my insides until they are damn near choking me to death. I did the same thing to Clove and her daughter. Locked them away, kept her from her family. How in the fuck I am able to be standing here with a woman as incredible as her right now and not have her hating me for being no different than him beats the hell out of me. I’m no better than he is, and Tara knows it. Except, I’ve changed. I’ve repented for every single one of my sins, and I vowed never to hurt a woman again, or anyone else who doesn’t justly deserve it.

  “Well, no, not all the time. He let me out when he needed me by his side or thought it was wise for me to make an appearance in public. Shopping or getting my hair done. It was all for show. The same way it’s always been.” For show? Fuck. He’s a hundred times worse than I imagined him to be.

  I can remember every single letter she wrote to me telling me if she didn’t play her role right, he would beat the living hell out of her. Threaten to mark her face for life. He is sick and twisted and incredibly fucked in his head. He doesn’t deserve to be breathing right now.

  I stand there for I don’t know how long, making myself take in what she said. Watching those tears slip loose and drip down her face. My God, even though I know to the depths of my soul that she is better off with me, I can’t seem to escape the hell I feel I continue to bring into people’s lives. Is this my punishment for what I’ve done? To stand here and witness the woman I’ve fallen in love with sob hysterically in front of me? To not be able to absorb the hell she must have gone through just to get to me? He would have killed her if he’d caught her leaving him. Fuck, we may never be rid of him unless he’s dead.

  “Tara. Come here, baby.” The need to hold her overpowers my tormented emotions. She stands a foot away from me. Her chest heaving up and down. I need her in my arms as much as I need to breathe her in. Slowly, I spread my arms wide. All I have to give her is a broken man who will remain that way until the day I die. No matter what kind of hell my head is enduring, I’ll die making sure she lives the life she was meant to live. She doesn’t deserve this. My past doesn’t have a thing to do with her and me, and yet it seems as if it’s raining its wrath down on her. She folds her frame into mine. Her body starts to stroke the kindling, my craving to touch her. Every horrible thought escapes my head the minute her body crashes into me. It floats in the air. Disappears with the wind. And I’m standing here drowning in her instead of the guilt that has tormented me for years.

  It will take the rest of my life to fill the pages explaining how she feels in my arms. Her body instantly stops shaking, her arms wrap around my neck, and she dissolves against me. Melts into my skin and soaks right into my bones. I’m overwhelmed. Elated and so happy that she’s here. This moment is everything. I haven’t felt anyone in my arms who has made me feel the way she does. She touches every sensation I can think of. Drums up new ones I can barely comprehend.


  “You have no idea how happy I am right now, Trent. I’m right where I was meant to be. I’ve wanted this for so long. No matter how screwed up our circumstances are, everything about this was meant to be. I’m okay. You're okay. I would go through hell all over again just to be with you. I’ve tried to imagine what you look like. When you said you resembled a lumberjack, you weren’t kidding.” She pulls away from me. Her hands start skimming down my chest. Her skin is serving its purpose by branding itself through my shirt to heat my flesh. I didn’t think my cock could get any harder than he was. But he is. He’s throbbing. I need to have her. To fuck her and love her at the same time. To watch her come undone. Give her more pleasure than she can handle. Every delicious curve of her body is calling out to me. She belongs here. With me.

  “I haven’t ever held a woman in my arms who loved me. Not one damn time have I loved a woman in return. Not the true kind of love. The kind that consumes your soul and steals your mind away from you that she’s the only thing that gives life a whole new meaning. Nothing can come close to this. Not a damn thing. You mean more to me than the air I breathe. And I know how happy you are. I’m right there with you. Are you sure about this, Tara? Positive you’re fine? We can talk about everything now, or I can take you to bed. Make good on the promises we made each other. Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it. You just need to remember what I said in my letters; that once I have you, I’m not letting you go. We’ll figure this out. He isn’t going to show up here, Tara. If he does, he’ll regret it. You're safe. I love you too damn much to let him or anyone hurt you again.” I'll die to keep it that way. Her husband is a stupid fuck when it comes to the woman he married. A callous man with a black heart full of poisonous daggers. I’m not an idiot. I know how a sick, obsessed, tormented mind works. He’ll find a way to track her down, and I’ll gladly be waiting. Until that day comes, I’m not wasting any more time.

  Every pore on my skin opens up when her next words tumble out of her mouth. “I love you, too. So much. I’ve never been more positive about anything before in my life. I’ll never walk away from you. Never betray you. All that matters to me is you, our promises, and healing one another.”

  That’s all I need to hear. I lift her in my arms, grabbing a handful of her ass. My palms itch like crazy to feel her bare skin under them. I carry her into the house, kicking the door shut behind me. I move like a blinding strike of lightning down the hall to my bedroom. My dick is getting harder with every step I take. I haven’t been inside a woman for years. The desire to have anyone but Tara since I was released has never entered my mind. It never will. She’s all I want.

  “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this? My God, Tara, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I will never let anyone hurt you again. Tell me he hasn’t ever touched you like this?” I grip her face in my hands as gently as I can. My tongue is finally sweeping out to capture the first taste of her. I’ll cherish this moment for the rest of my life. A man like me won’t take a woman like her for granted ever again.

  Tara might be legally married, but that’s all there has ever been to her marriage. A piece of paper that can easily be shredded.

  She is as needy as I am when her tongue darts out to weave with mine. I suck it into my mouth as I turn the corner to my room and fall into the bed with her on top of me. My hands are now shifting to take hold of her bare ass. I slide them inside of her skin-tight shorts. Not giving a fuck that I hear them rip somewhere. I’ve always loved a woman’s ass, and Tara’s fits perfectly in my hands. Her skin is so Goddamn soft. Her lips warm and her tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. I can’t break away from her.

  She grinds into my cock, moans, and lifts away from me too soon. My breath loses itself somewhere deep in my balls when she lifts her shirt over her head, showing me she’s not wearing a bra. Just a pair of perfect breasts meets my darkened gaze, round nipples and hardened peaks that are begging for my mouth.

  I hike her up, one hand to a breast, mouth hovering over the other, and I fuck her nipple with tiny flicks of my tongue while pinching the other with my fingers. She cries out. Her head flying back and her eyelids flickering closed. Fuck me. I’m nearly dying here. A starved man who has gone years wanting to fuck this woman. To hold her when we are done. To take her when I want. To die a Goddamn happy man and drain both our pasts clear out of our minds. To simply start over.

  “Trent.” My dick jumps. Tara knows that’s the only thing I want to hear her say. Fantasized about it so many times. My name. She says it over and over as I lick up her neck in the direction of her plump little mouth. I want that mouth around my cock. But first, I need to taste her pussy and fuck her until she is crying out my name and begging me to stop. I want to erase his memory. Replace it with me. The rest of our needs will fall naturally.

  “When was the last time he—”

  “No,” she silences me with a hand over my mouth. “It’s been months. Almost a year. I told you in my last letter I wrote that he doesn’t want me that way anymore. I’m all about the show and tell for him. He’d rather have a woman of convenience than sleep with his wife.”

  She shivers in my arms. I can only hope it's from having to think about that son of a bitch touching her and not from me. I know it makes me sick to know he’s touched her in multiple ways. Hurt her beyond my wildest comprehension. I hate that bastard.

  I rest my head in the crook of her neck. The urge to have her overpowers everything else. I need one minute. One fucking minute to examine my own head, to wrap myself around her and feel her breathe. Wondering how any man would not want a woman like her. How he could manipulate her mind into believing she is nothing but a piece of eye candy to wear on his arm and then to abuse the fuck out of her.

  I can’t wait for the day to come when I can show her off simply because I’m lucky she’s mine.

  “I love you, Tara.” I tell her what my heart is screaming at me to say over and over. Tara is kind, compassionate, and so full of love that she makes it impossible not to love her back. I love her so much; it’s bleeding out of me. Flowing in all different directions that it’s driving me crazy to think he’s hurt her. I need to quit thinking about him. He does not need to be here right now. Not when I’m about to make her mine and show her that I’m hers, too.

  “I love you, Trent, but if you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to scream, and it won’t be your name,” she rasps out, breathless and eyes blazing like a sizzling sun cresting into the sea.

  I chuckle and flip us over; my shaky hands go to the buttons on her shorts. Unsnapping and pulling them down right along with her lace panties. “Fuck,” I say, inhaling the sweet smell of her pussy. Admiring the way her legs spread open for me. Her wetness, her clit, her trimmed dark hair. All of it a Goddamn fantasy. Her fucking pussy is gravity to my aching dick. It smells so fucking good that my face will be buried there for hours.

  “You're going to ride my fingers, then fuck my face and then my cock, Tara. You get me?” She knows I’m a dirty talker. She knows everything there is to know about me. I don’t have to pretend with her. I knew it then, and I know it now.

  She deserves to be loved. Deserves to be free. And I’ll die before I let any man hurt her again.

  Chapter 3

  TARA

  I’ve been staring at the man I fell in love with before I ever saw him. Trent Calloway, a man I’m lucky enough to call mine. My mind is having a hell of a time believing I’m here.

  I’ve always dreamed of being that girl who finds that guy who sets my soul on fire. This dark man is that guy.

  Our relationship started out innocent. Until one day it simply wasn’t. I fell for a man behind bars. The man I accept for who he is, in spite of the things he has done. I love him, and no one can take that away from me. Not anyone. Not ever.

  The urge to not blink, not look away out of fear he’ll disappear has me fighting back the tears of joy that are blurring my vision as Trent’s deep, dark, and masculine voice trembles t
hrough my skin and glues itself in every dark crevice it can find. It’s already sunk into my soul.

  He didn’t put a stipulation at the end when he demanded me to get out of the car. Didn’t raise his tone in a way that frightened me. And it surely wasn’t one of those demands I’ve grown accustomed to. One to dominate and control my every move, my every breath, and to scare me into submission. No, he wants me for me. The woman who is coming into this relationship with secrets I should reveal before we do anything, and yet I’m unable to because for the first time in my life, I feel cherished.

  When the dark desire of his eyes blazed across my skin and touched my flesh in a heated, heavy desire that rattled my insides, I moved as quickly as I could to get to him, and it still wasn’t fast enough. I’ve waited way too long, and the sound of his voice was more intoxicating than I’ve imagined. Deeply seductive. Dark and dangerous. But no danger was directed at me.

  His looks, though, they are nothing like I imagined. My knees went weak, and my core pulsated to a rhythm I never knew about. I can still feel it simmering as it begins to boil, and he’s only beginning to touch me. His beard is thick; his hair is dark and long; and his eyes are shining brightly.

  With every mile that Simon and I marked off in the car on our long drive here, I became more nervous. I had been waiting years to meet this man in the flesh. The man who thought so little of himself that there were times when I would receive his letters and say to hell with the consequences I knew would be bestowed upon me and leave. Fly to see him in prison just so he could see the truth behind my eyes when I told him I was as real as every word I wrote, we were real, and together we would work on destroying the demons from both our pasts.

  I knew I couldn’t. You would think one man wouldn’t be able to stop me, and yet with the life I’ve led, the demons I carry, and the insecurities I hold within the confines of my heart, if I’d run without thinking this through, my husband would have found a way to track me down and kill us both. That’s why I turned him down every time he said to go to his mother. Luciano would have destroyed her, and Trent would have never forgiven me. He’s having a hard time forgiving himself as it is. If I were to have been added to that mix, Lord only knows where I would be right now. It sure wouldn’t be here looking at him.