My fingers work her clit, circling around, and rubbing as her hips rock faster, driving us both closer and closer to release.
My hips thrust up to meet her downward motions, my free hand caresses up her spine before sliding in her hair to clutch the base of her head. When I tug on her hair, pulling her head back she gasps.
“Do you like that? You like a little pain, angel?” I ask. I love the way she reacts to my touch.
“Yes.” Her voice is husky. Her eyes are lazy, passion filled half slits.
I tug on her clit, pinching and pulling it between my thumb and index finger. She moans.
“I know what you need.” My hand releases her head and slips along her neck to wrap around her shoulder. I pull her down as I thrust upward as hard as I can. “Come for me, angel. I want to watch you come all over my cock.”
Her fingernails dig into my chest as her pussy clenches. Her mouth falls open.
“Zack,” she moans.
“Look at me,” I order, needing to see her eyes. Blue.
I thrust as deep as I can, releasing inside her tight pussy.
* * *
The orange juice is sweet on my taste buds, but not as sweet as the girl sitting across from me. Nothing tastes as sweet as her pussy does. I smirk and set my glass down on the table six inches to the left of my plate. It’s a habit from when I was a kid. I can remember spilling my drink at dinner and my father beating my ass because of it. I finally figured out if I kept my drink far enough away from my plate I wouldn’t knock it over anymore.
“What are you so smiley about?” Lana asks.
I reach across the table and take her hand in mine. “I’m just happy you’re here with me and you’re giving us a shot.”
The waitress interrupts, placing our plates down in front of us.
“Thank you,” Lana murmurs and then takes a bite of her eggs.
“How’s your work going?” I ask.
“I love working at K.D. Investigations. Kyle and Derek are both great guys and easy to work for.”
“What’s your favorite thing about what you do?” I spear some pancake on my fork and drag it through the maple syrup.
“The best thing I’ve worked on so far was helping a long-lost brother and sister reunite. They hadn’t seen each other in fifteen years. It was really emotional and touching.”
“I’ve never done anything really amazing like that. My work wasn’t satisfying on a personal level. It was satisfying on a monetary level. Someday, I’d like to know what it feels like to do something selfless.” I run my hand through my hair. “I just don’t know if I’ll ever be that kind of guy.” I glance at Lana and find her watching me. “I want to be though.”
That’s as close to baring my soul as I’ve ever gotten. I hope she sees it for what it is.
“I think you’re in a great place in your life. You can do whatever you want, and you don’t have to settle on one thing right now,” she reassures me. “Tell me about your family,” she says taking me by surprise.
I don’t want to talk about my family, but I know I can’t avoid it forever.
“My father wasn’t a good man. He was abusive to my mother and me. My mom got the brunt of it. I don’t remember a time when he wasn’t mean.” My eyes flick to Lana’s. She’s listening, no judgement on her face. “I use to get woken up at night by the sounds of him hitting her. He would say horrible things. Call her a whore.” I grimace. “Tell her he might as well sell her to strangers for some money because then at least she’d be earning her keep.” I push my fingers through my hair. “I’ve never told anyone this before.” My voice wavers. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
She places her hand over mine. One simple touch from her gives me the courage to continue.
“I used to lie in my bed, listening to the sounds of them fighting and just pray over and over he would stop. And then I would pray he wouldn’t come in my room and start in on me.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’d feel so guilty for hiding in my room when I should have been defending my mother.” Just thinking about my father has me breaking out in a cold sweat. I swipe my forearm over my forehead. “He didn’t hit me until I was older. He used to do other things to punish me.” My eyes lower to our hands. Her skin is so fair next to mine, unmarred and delicate. She’s the opposite of me in every way.
“He would burn me with a cigar.” I rake my teeth over my bottom lip and slide my free hand into the waistband of my jeans. I trace my index finger around the numerous uneven circular shapes spread out over my lower back and hips. I have them on the other side too. “He would press so hard the nerve endings were burned away. He always put them somewhere no one would notice.”
Glancing up at Lana I notice the sheen of tears in her eyes. She remains silent, squeezing my hand in encouragement.
“When I would go to the doctor for my yearly physical, I would wait in fear that he would discover them, but he never did.” I shake my head. “And the scar count continued to rise.” My voice breaks on the last word. I pull my hand away from the reminders of my father. I hate him for marking my body and my soul. I grab the orange juice from the table. The liquid sloshes around inside the glass as my hand shakes. I gulp the drink, swallowing the remainder, before placing the empty glass down.
Clearing my throat, I then continue. “I can remember being torn between wanting him to find the scars so someone would stop the abuse and being scared if they did, my sister and I would be taken from our mother.”
“Oh, Zack,” Lana whispers. I can feel her eyes on me, but I can’t look at her. If I do, I’ll crack like the pavement after a harsh Boston winter. I’m barely holding it together. Years of unshed tears and buried emotions are clawing to the surface like an ice dam, ready to bust through. I can’t let them out. Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply and push back all the darkness. It’s part of me and always will be.
Opening my eyes, I turn to Lana and smile. “Everything that happened led me to you.”
We both settle into a comfortable silence, enjoying our meal. Watching her is quickly becoming my favorite pastime. The way she uses her napkin to carefully wipe her mouth after every bite is an adorable quirk of hers. I noticed it the night we went to dinner, but I thought it was because she was so nervous.
“We’re not going to run out on this tab, are we?” she asks dryly.
I chuckle. “No, that was a one-time thing. Were you worried when you accepted my invitation to breakfast?”
She pushes her almost empty plate away from her and folds her hands on the table. “The thought did cross my mind.” She arches an eyebrow at me.
“You don’t ever have to worry about that again, angel,” I reassure her. I pick up the bill the waitress left at the edge of the table. “I’m going to take care of this right now.” I wink, pulling my wallet out of my back pocket. I remove two twenties and throw them down on the table. “Are you all set?” I gesture to her plate.
“Yeah, I can’t believe how much I ate,” she giggles.
“This is one of my favorite places for breakfast. We’ll come back soon.” We can make it one of our regular places, like couples who have been together for a long time. I smile at the thought of forming habits with her. I hope we get the opportunity.
I rise from my chair, pulling on my jacket. She does the same, tugging on the same white hat she wore when we went to the tree farm. We’ve come so far since then and it’s only been a month.
She puts on matching mittens and I gesture for her to precede me down the narrow aisle between the tables and booths. Larry’s, the greasy spoon we came to is jammed with people. Every available seat occupied.
Once we’re outside, I stop her with my hand on her arm. She smiles up at me as I pull her hat down over her ears. “There, better.” My fingers caress her cheek. “You’re beautiful,” I say, in awe of her alluring face. She flushes pink and it’s not from the cold air.
She ducks her chin and lowers her eyes. “Thank you,” she softly replies.
&n
bsp; I lift her chin with my finger. “You are, you know. You need to get used to me telling you. You’re going to be hearing it a lot.” I softly brush her lips with mine. “Let’s head back home, unless there’s someplace else you want to go.”
“I can’t think of anything else I’d like to do except relax on my couch.”
We continue down the sidewalk side by side. I take her hand, once again. “Do you like football?”
“I don’t really know anything about it. Sports have never been my thing.”
“What?” I put my hand on my chest and stagger like she stabbed me in the heart. She giggles and covers her mouth with her mitten.
“How can you not like football? That’s un American.”
“I guess you’ll have to teach me about it,” she replies.
“I’m going to teach you all kinds of things.”
* * *
“Why did you and Christopher break up?” I ask once we’re seated on her couch. I want to know. I’ve waited long enough.
Her head snaps in my direction and her eyes go wide. I know she doesn’t want to talk about him, but he’s like the elephant in our relationship. It’s past time to address it.
“We didn’t break up,” she answers softly. They didn’t break up?
“What do you mean?” I ask, scowl on my face as I imagine her still involved with this dude.
“He committed suicide,” she whispers. Her shoulders roll forward and her body shrinks when her arms hug her middle.
I pick her up, pulling her into my arms. Fuck. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”
She shakes her head and crawls onto me, her arms wrap around my shoulders. Her forehead pressed to my neck, she straddles my lap and lets the tears flow.
“I want to tell you,” she sniffs. “It’s still difficult for me to talk about. I don’t think it will ever be easy no matter how much time passes.”
I cup her tear stained cheeks in my hands, tilting her face up. “It’s up to you. I’m not going to force you to talk about something that causes you pain.”
She blinks, and takes a deep breath. “He took a whole bottle of antidepressants and went to sleep with me in my bed.” She chews on her bottom lip as the tears start to trail down her cheeks. “I woke up the next morning and found him. He was so cold.” She closes her eyes and shudders before looking up at me. “I could tell he had been gone for hours. His lips were blue.” A tear falls down her cheek and I wipe it away with my thumb. “He must have waited until I was asleep to take the pills.” Her eyes lower. “I felt guilty for so long for not waking up sooner. If I had maybe he could have been saved.”
“Look at me,” I urge, my hands still on her cheeks. “That’s not your fault. None of what happened is your fault.”
“I know that now. He suffered from depression for most of his life and he never told me. He never showed signs of anything being wrong until the month before he died.” She grips my wrists with her hands. “He wasn’t acting like himself. I kept asking what was wrong and he made me think I was crazy for thinking something was off.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through all that.” She lets go of my wrists and my hands fall from her face to her shoulders. “You’re amazing,” I tell her, squeezing her shoulders.
Her eyebrows dip together. “How do you figure?”
“You’ve been through so much and you haven’t let it change you. You haven’t let it stop you from living.”
At my words, she begins to sob uncontrollably. My arms tighten around her and I softly caress over the back of her hair with one hand. In this moment, I despise myself because I can’t find the strength to walk away from her, even though I know I’m the worst thing for her.
Chapter Eighteen
Zack
Lying here on my couch with Lana in my arms, I feel more at peace than I ever have. We’ve been spending as much time together as possible over the past two weeks. She’s changing me in ways I never thought I would. My need for revenge has been replaced with my need for her. My hate filled heart is now overflowing with the love I feel for her.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at me. “You look so serious.”
I gaze down at her. “I was just thinking about how much I’ve changed since I met you. I wasn’t a good man before.”
She turns over to her back, her brow furrowed. “I hate when you say things like that. You’re a wonderful person, Zack. You show me all the time with your actions.”
“Someday soon I need to tell you about my past and you’re not going to feel the same about me after I do. Until then I want you to know I’ve never been so happy before.” I caress her cheek with the back of my fingers and stare into the bottomless pools of blue green staring up at me. “I love you, Lana.” Her eyes open wide. “I just want you to know.”
She bites her lip and nods. I know she’s not ready to say those words back to me. Maybe she never will be.
Wrapping her hands around the back of my neck she pulls me down until our lips are an inch apart and we lock gazes. Her eyes tell me what she’s not able to and for now it’s good enough.
I capture her lips with mine, dropping my chest down as I stretch out on top of her. Our kisses are long and slow. She’s my addiction. I can never get enough of her.
I slowly remove each article of our clothing until I can sink between her thighs. My strokes are slow, as I take my time, drawing it out. This is the first time I’ve ever made love.
* * *
“I want you to meet my friends soon.” Lana informs me as we dine in one of the sandwich shops in our neighborhood.
I almost inhale the bite of burger in my mouth. I catch it right before it goes down the wrong pipe. Calm down. I caution myself. I knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. Stick with the plan.
“Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe we can get together with them in a few weeks. Right now, I want to keep you all to myself,” I answer stalling. I need more time with her before I can confess all my sins. I need her to be so in love with me she can forgive me. Fuck. Sweat trickles down the middle of my back. I’m calm on the outside, but on the inside, I’m a fucking wreck. I can see everything we have being obliterated by what I need to confess. Coming clean with her should be a priority, before she figures it out on her own.
“You have me to yourself all the time.” She smiles.
“I know, but I’m greedy. I’m not ready to share you yet.” I wink.
We continue eating our meal in comfortable silence and my heart’s finally beating at a normal rate again.
“Shoot.” She shakes her hand and then sucks on her finger.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I just reopened a cut. I think I have a band aid in my purse.” She places the small black leather bag on the table and rifles through it. She removes items one at a time placing them on the table. Chap stick, gum, her wallet and a folded up piece of paper. “I know I have one in here somewhere,” she mutters.
My eyes move to the piece of paper she pulled out. It looks old; like it’s been opened and refolded hundreds of times. My curiosity is piqued now.
“Got it,” she says with a triumphant smile as she holds the bandage up for me to see.
I watch her while she meticulously wraps it around her finger. Everything Lana does, she does with purpose.
“What’s that?” I ask, jerking my chin toward where the paper sits on the table in front of her.
She looks panicked for a moment. “This?” She points to the very thing that has me so curious. I don’t know why I need to know what secrets it contains, but I just have a gut feeling it’s important.
“It’s Christopher’s suicide letter.” Her hands drop to her lap as she folds in on herself. She’s getting smaller and smaller in her seat as I watch her.
“Lana, it’s okay, angel. Tell me about it.” I lay my hand down on the table palm up and wait for her to place hers down. My fingers gently close a
round hers while I wait for her to begin.
“I found this letter after they took Christopher away. He said he’d suffered from depression his whole life. He never told me because he looked at it as a weakness and he didn’t want me to think of him as damaged.” She takes a sip of her water. “He was tired of dealing with it and he didn’t want to put me through it.” I nod my head in encouragement. “He’d been acting strange for a while and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. I thought he was unhappy with us and didn’t want to marry me anymore.”
She stops speaking and closes her eyes. She takes a deep, slow breath and when her eyes open they’re shining with unshed tears. “He said...he said he wanted to leave this world holding me in his arms.” She sniffs and wipes her eyes with her free hand.
I squeeze the one still in my grasp.
Our gazes lock, hers filled with so much pain. “He said he couldn’t think of a more perfect way to pass on into the unknown than having me, the person he loved most there with him.”
I let go of her hand and move to sit next to her on the bench seat of our booth. Pulling her into my arms, I caress her hair as she quietly cries. She’s been through so much and she keeps pushing on. I’m a bastard for selfishly pursuing and wanting to be with her. My secrets could be the thing to break her for good.
* * *
“Are you staying here tonight?”
Her head lifts from her kindle, turning to look at me seated beside her on the couch. “Do you want me to stay?” she questions.
“How is that even a question at this point? If I had my way, you’d stay here with me twenty-four-seven and never leave.”
She giggles and then squeals when I scoop her up in my arms. I carry her to my bedroom and throw her down on the bed.
“I have a present for you.” I smirk when her eyes light up. “I know how much you’ve liked my surprises so far.” The over the door restraints were a big hit. I think she’ll like this too.
The Complete Quake Series Page 48
