by CP Smith
Moore’s attention shot to Nate’s when they’d finished. “Jesus, all that and they still left out findin’ two bodies, watchin’ a woman bleed to death, and almost drownin’ in the middle of a hurricane.”
Nate hadn’t been around for all of it, thank Christ. But he’d heard the details from Devin and Bo. “Like I said, do you even have to ask?”
Moore grinned. “You three should have your heads examined.”
Nate glanced at Poppy and knew he was wrong. That gaping wound he’d had since the day his father died had closed not an hour ago because Poppy had heard the worst about him, and instead of running in the opposite direction like he feared she would once the truth came out, she’d run straight to him. Right at him. Tears streaming down her face as she collided with his body. For him. All for him. She’d buried her head in his neck and cried for him. Didn’t care what happened. Didn’t listen to whatever twisted version of the truth her father had spilled. Just ran to him and buried her face in his neck. Then a tormented, “I’m so, so sorry,” had ripped from the depths of her soul for what he’d endured for sixteen years and because he’d killed his father to protect his mother. The moment she uttered those words, that fucking hole, the one that had burned like fire since his father had died, extinguished and closed as if her simple I’m sorry were made of fucking magic.
Except for his mother and Martine, everyone in his life had disappeared the day he’d snapped and taken his father’s life; scared he’d come unhinged again. He learned quickly that even though he’d served no time, people still saw him as a killer. So he’d spent most of high school taking care of his mother until she adjusted to her wheelchair. The rest of that time he’d focused on football, so he could go to college and earn a degree, determined to take care of his mother and give her the life she deserved after years in hell. That had been his sole focus, and the hell with the rest. Friends would have gotten in the way of his plans anyway, so he didn’t need them. Not if it meant explaining his past then watching them turn from him in fear.
Then he’d met Devin at the University of Georgia and all that changed. Devin had walked right up to Nate and put out his hand, stating, “Know who you are. Know what you did. Just wanted to shake your hand and say I’d have done the same fuckin’ thing.”
Nate had no clue how he found out. His record had been sealed, and after confiding once about his past, then watching fear and anxiety shroud the man’s face, he’d kept his mouth shut once he got to Athens. But Devin had found out, didn’t give a fuck, then bought him a beer. That had gone a long way toward banishing some of Nate’s demons, having a friend he could trust. And now, eight years after they left Athens, they were like brothers. Closer even.
As for women, he never got close because he didn’t trust himself. He worried if he felt something, he might lose his temper like his father did. And that burning hole in his chest was a constant reminder of what had happened, and what he’d never have. Then he’d met Poppy and his vow to keep his distance from women seemed to fade away in her presence. He’d fought it, but that base instinct to claim and to protect, had battled against his defenses and won when she reached out her hand to him for support. Then she’d defended him unconditionally to her father when she had no fucking clue what he’d done. His guard dropped instantly and irrevocably at that moment, and she’d burrowed under his skin further. But the black hole was still a constant reminder, even though he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, he’d kill his father again without remorse; he had no clue how she would react to the truth.
But now he did.
She bled tears of sorrow on his skin for what he’d been forced to do, and those tears had closed that fucking hole. Slammed it shut with resounding calmness within seconds.
Nate lifted his hand and ran the back of his knuckles across Poppy’s cheek. She didn’t move, not an inch. Her trust that he’d protect her was so absolute, she felt safe enough to sleep.
A different kind of burn filled his gut as he watched her sleep. A burn similar to the one he’d felt when he vowed he’d make something of himself, now burned with a need to give Poppy everything. Her acceptance of him without question closed the gaping wound that had plagued him for years, while igniting a drive in him. Whatever she needed to heal so the past stayed firmly shut, he’d give to her. If she needed the world, then he’d figure out a way to hand it to her on a silver fucking platter.
“Kitten,” he whispered, “You need to wake up.” He kept brushing her cheek until her eyelids fluttered open.
Confusion clouded her eyes for a moment, then she smiled and mumbled, “Coffee.”
“You need sleep, not coffee.”
Dazed, she looked around and took in her location. “Are we headed to the bar?”
Folding out of her car, Nate reached back in and pulled her out the driver’s side until she was standing, then shut the door and backed her up until he had her pinned. “We’re goin’ to my place so you can rest. Until the press dies down, I don’t want you out of my sight.”
It took a moment, then her eyes enlarged, and her mouth opened on a silent gasp. He couldn’t wait for the day when the thought of being alone with him only caused her eyes to hood with anticipation.
“Okay.” The word sounded braver than she looked.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.” It was instantaneous, and he realized he needed to hear it as much as he needed the air he breathed. Leaning down the foot it took to reach her lips, Nate brushed them lightly in thanks, then grabbed her hand and pulled her toward his side entrance, unlocked the door, and pushed her through.
His living space behind the bar was just a place to sleep when the bar was closed. He wasn’t sure if he considered it a home as much as an escape from the world. The building used to be part of the old Cotton Exchange, so the space was large and open. He’d kept as much of the building’s structure as he could when he’d remodeled. Brick walls, stainless-steel appliances, and black marble countertops now graced the space. He had the essentials only. What he needed to be comfortable, but that was it. A bed. A leather sectional and matching chair, and big screen TV. It was a man’s space. There wasn’t clutter. There weren’t knickknacks on end tables or entry tables. No family photos to personalize the apartment. The exposed brick and fireplace were all the atmosphere he needed. That and his bull. Fifty pounds of pure, spoiled, American bulldog. But it was clear from the lack of opera music that Gertie wasn’t home. He’d messaged Martine to take his dog with her when she closed the night before. Said he might not be back to take care of her. Since she wasn’t here to welcome him home with her brand of out-of-control singing, and Martine had opened the bar, he knew he needed to call his mother and let her know Gertie needed to be returned. No ifs, ands, or buts. If he didn’t, she’d kidnap her and never return her.
“Where’s Gertie?” Poppy asked, looking around his space. She’d met his bulldog the day before, along with Calla and Sienna, and he hoped like hell she’d forgotten about bedazzling a UGA T-shirt for his pet.
“With my mother. I’ll get her back today. Bathroom’s in the bedroom, through that door. Take a shower then try to get some sleep.”
Her eyes darted to the rooms then back to Nate. “Where are you gonna be?”
She didn’t seem scared, only curious, so he crowded her and looked down. “I’m gonna handle business while you rest.”
She cocked her head and bit her lip. “Um, don’t you think we should, you know, talk.”
“We’ll talk. There’s a lot of shit I let go of because you’d had a rough twenty-four hours, so we’re not done.”
“That sounds ominous,” she mumbled to herself.
“Not ominous, but there’s a lot of shit to work through. And information I need,” he reminded.
“There’s a lot of stuff I won’t talk about.”
“You will.”
“I won’t.”
“Not today.”
“Not ever.”
Nate sighe
d. “Were you born stubborn or do you save it just for me?”
“Born stubborn. I think it’s a biker babe princess trait?”
Christ, but she was cute.
“What exactly do you need to know?”
The way she worried at her bottom lip stole his focus. “For one,” he began caging her in with both arms as she leaned against his bar, “you need to come clean to the Wallflowers about your past.” She stiffened and shook her head, so he cupped her cheeks and made her look at him. “They love you, Kitten, and Sienna is your sister. You have to let them in if you want to get past this, and you know it. You can’t be an island of one. They’re in your life for better or worse, just like you are for them. How would you feel if they kept somethin’ like this from you?” Her bottom lip began to tremble. He wanted to kiss the fear away, but he needed to press her to open up. She’d never find peace until she talked about it with those who meant the most to her.
He watched her struggle with his advice, then she took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right, but I need a few days to come to terms with everything.”
He pulled her into his arms. He’d never met a woman as strong as she was. “Brave as a lion and just as fierce.”
She dropped her head to his chest and he felt a shudder run through her body. “Anything else?” she asked his chest.
“Your father.”
She bristled and pushed back to look up at him. “I’m done with him.”
“You’re not done. You just think you are.”
She seemed to consider that point, then nodded. “That’s true. I need to find out what happened to my mother. But after that, I’m done.”
Nate sighed. He knew her emotions were riding her hard and that she’d be able to think clearer in a few days. He wouldn’t blame her if she never spoke to him again, but he knew it wasn’t what was best for her.
“We’ll give it some time,” he answered, his voice gentle, brushing his knuckles across her cheek again. “For now, go take a shower and rest. We’ll worry about the rest later.”
Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and instead of the uncertainty he’d seen earlier, there was interest. He leaned down and gave her a taste to gauge her reaction. It took all of two seconds for her arms to wrap around his neck, her mouth to open, and for his blood to ignite. He got lost in the feel of her body pressed close to his, and he took the kiss deeper than he meant to. He’d wanted to start slow, work at a pace she was comfortable with, but her scent and the taste of her mouth, short-circuited his reasoning. He turned Poppy and started walking her backward until her back hit the wall. He grabbed her arms from around his neck and placed them behind her. “No hands or I’ll lose control.”
She looked up at him in a daze. Her eyes were finally hooded with lust instead of fear. The jade green was deeper as her pupils dilated. It was the sexiest sight he’d ever seen. “I really like how you kiss,” she whispered.
He released her wrists, and she’d raised a hand to her lips. They were swollen and red, and he immediately wondered what they’d look like wrapped around his cock.
“Shower,” he grunted. “Lock the door.”
She blinked but didn’t move, so he leaned in and bit out, “Now, Kitten.”
“But.”
“Been wantin’ you for two weeks, all while thinkin’ it could never happen because of who I was. So my control is hangin’ by a thread.”
She studied him but still didn’t move. “I feel different,” she rushed out. “Strung tight. My blood is on fire. That’s never happened before.”
His feet moved without his permission, and he placed his hands on the wall above her head, leaning closer until he was all she could see. “You want me,” he explained. “Want my hands on you, makin’ you come alive until I bury my cock so deep inside your sweet heat you won’t be able to breathe.” Her eyes grew wider, and her breath came faster at the thought of him sinking deep inside her, but underneath it all, he could see a shade of fear. “But you’re not ready for that.”
“So this is what truly being turned on feels like?” she asked, swallowing thickly. “This doesn’t feel like ice at all.”
He drew air into his lungs and forced it out, clenching the muscles throughout his body to keep from moving. Her ex must have focused on himself, rather than working to bring her body to a burn if she had no clue what she was feeling. For that alone, the man should pay.
“You’re burnin’ with the need for release. Your body’s reactin’ and preparin’ for my cock.”
Her chest rose and fell, and he swore he saw wonder in her eyes. “I feel an ache between my legs.”
Jesus.
He closed his eyes to block out the look on her face. She was desperate for release and she didn’t even know it.
“Touch yourself,” he mumbled, drawing air in, then cursing his stupidity. That innocent scent she seemed to be saturated in was stronger, and he knew if he buried his face between her legs her essence would be powerful and addictive.
“Touch myself?”
His eyes flew open at the apprehension in her voice, and he saw the heat and desperation in her eyes. “While I’m standin’ here, touch yourself. Touch me. Find your release while your body’s burnin’ for my touch and imagine it’s my hand.”
She swallowed hard then looked down at the erection straining his jeans. “Touch you?”
“Only where you want to,” he explained. “But make a connection with me while you find relief.”
She searched his face for a moment, then raised a shaking hand to his chest. He was tweaked from kissing her, so the heat and pressure from her hand shook him. He clenched his fists to keep from touching her in return.
“Touch yourself, Kitten” he gritted out. She seemed uncertain, so he slowly took her opposite hand and lowered it to her stomach. “I need to know how wet I make you.”
“I think”
“Don’t think, just fuckin’ feel for the both of us.”
Her breath came faster as he waited for her to act, then she closed her eyes and moved her hand down, slipping into the gaping waistband of her shorts. He held his breath when she gasped at her own touch and groaned when her head fell back against the wall, whispering, “I’m soakin’ wet.”
Her hips moved slightly as she drew her fingers through her slick folds. It was then he knew he was in hell, because she moaned deep in her throat at the sensation.
Her free hand tangled in his shirt as she worked her body. He stood like a statue watching her pant as her body responded. His cock ached for similar release, but he ignored his own needs to focus on hers. She took her time, working her body slowly until she was desperate to come. The moment he saw her release hit those jade eyes, he captured her mouth so he could swallow her cries. He kept his hands on the bricks as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, digging the tips of his fingers into the mortar until it almost crumbled beneath them. When she slumped forward into his chest, he crushed her tighter to him. He’d never seen anything that beautiful. The wonder in her expression as she drowned in the sensations of coming for him. He’d watched with satisfaction when the stress bled from her face, turning into relief, and then something far sexier than he’d ever seen: a determination to have more.
“You’re incredible. The sexiest woman I’ve known in my life,” Nate muttered, placing soft kisses against her mouth.
Both of her hands were clutching his shirt, holding him to her body. She began to cry without warning, but he caught a smile on her lips and knew they were tears of relief. “I wanted you to touch me,” she hiccupped. “I actually wanted to feel your body on top of mine.”
“Soon,” he whispered, then took her mouth again until he knew he had to leave or risk the progress she’d made. “Go to the bathroom and lock the door,” he ordered, fighting his own body for control.
She pulled back and looked at him, her brow furrowed. “What?”
“I’m seconds away from throwin’ you over my shoulder. Get to the bathroom and lock the d
oor.”
“But”
“Go, Kitten,” he barked out.
She jumped then took off for the bathroom. Nate turned on his heel and walked to the door that separated his bar from his home. He ripped it open and stalked through without looking back. He’d need a cold shower before he returned. Or a bullet through the brain.
As he passed by tables headed for his office, Martine opened her mouth to say something to him. When she caught the look on his face, Nate glared at her. “One fuckin’ word and you’re fired.”
She threw back her head and laughed instead of heading his threat. “Looks like I’ll be sayin’ a prayer to Saint Raphael before you kill someone,” she cackled in her Scottish brogue.
Nate stopped and narrowed his eyes. “You’re not even Catholic.”
“Aye, but the patron saint of matchmakin’ does not care as long as you believe. I’m thinkin’ by the look on your face, it didn’t go well with your wee lass?”
Nate shook his head, grumbling as he headed for his office, “The lass is fine. I don’t need a matchmaker, I need a fuckin’ deep freeze.”
He closed his office door to the sounds of Martine’s laughter and picked up his phone to call Devin. If he couldn’t touch Poppy yet, he needed to release some pent-up energy on the man who’d ruined her life. He needed to find the monster who stalked her in the dark and make him pay.
_______________
I darted into the bathroom so fast I ended up on the floor. My balance wasn’t where I left it after my world was rocked by Nate, so I landed on my rump with my hair covering my face. Thankfully Lady Luck saw fit to hide my equilibrium-challenged fall from grace. But I was too rattled to care at that point. Heat spread to my cheeks and I buried my face in my hands. I’d just masturbated in front of a man and liked it. And I was happy I liked it. In fact, I was happy. Not happy for an hour after finishing a book happy, just plain old happy. I couldn’t remember ever being happy. Not truly. I’d been happy-ish. But I’d never allowed myself the luxury of opening up enough to be truly happy. What if it didn’t last?
