Penance (Long Slow Tease, #2)

by Mayburn, Ann

  By the time she reached the door she’d managed to strap some steel to her spine, but when she heard Wyatt talking through the open windows she paused.

  “Don’t worry, Daniella, I’ll see you soon enough when I get back to Chicago.” He laughed and she looked through the window, seeing him leaning against the counter with his back to her. “Yeah, we need to finish it.”

  Her heart slammed against her ribs and she felt lightheaded as he paused and listened to what had to be the woman Wyatt promised he hadn’t fucked talking to him on the phone. The thought that he ran from a fight with her to call Daniella killed her and she bit her hand to stifle a wounded moan, at once not wanting to hear another word and needing to know everything she could before Wyatt figured out she was standing here.

  “Yep, I’ll take care of you and you take care of me.” He paused again and shifted against the counter. “No, she doesn’t know about us and I want to keep it that way. I’ll tell her, but not yet. She’s not ready.”

  His betrayal hurt so damn bad. She was scarcely aware of moving before she’d thrown the door open hard enough that it banged against the wall. Wyatt leapt away from the counter and gave her a confused look and said into his phone, “Hey, I need to call you back.”

  “Why, Wyatt? Why are you leaving me for her?” She tried to keep her tears back, but she just couldn’t. The pain was too great. “I’ve tried my hardest for you, what did I do wrong?”

  “Oh, baby.” He grabbed her in a hug and she tried to pull away, but he wasn’t letting her go. “I’m not leaving you for Daniella. Why would you even think that?”

  “I heard you. You’re going to Chicago to see her.” Though it broke her heart, she had to force the words out. “I want you to be ha-happy, Wyatt. Please don’t stay with me out of guilt.”

  “I should spank your ass into next week for even suggesting that.” He gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “I am going to Chicago to see her, but not because I want her as my woman. Jesus, Michelle, have a little faith in yourself, in me. I’m trying real hard to be patient with you, but damn, you make it hard sometimes.”

  He released her abruptly and she slumped against the wall and looked at him through bleary eyes.

  Shaking his head, he turned his back to her. “This isn’t how I wanted to show you, but you need to know what I’ve been doing with Daniella. I’ve spent a lot of time with her in Chicago, her and her fiancé, but not in the way you think.”

  He abruptly pulled his shirt off and her world froze in place as she stared at his back, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

  Taking a hesitant step forward, she blinked and wiped her eyes so she could see the new, giant tattoo that covered his back. Where the faded and battered rose and other random tattoos had once been there was now an enormous back piece of a very masculine angel done in shades of blue ranging from a navy so dark it was almost black to the palest of ice blues with his wings outspread, covering Wyatt’s muscular back from the top rise of his ass all the way to each shoulder blade. A halo done in shades of orange, red, and gold flared around the angel’s head, giving the tattoo life. She took a deep breath as she studied the incredible detail in each feather of the outspread wings. A portion of the tattoo near the bottom was still just black lines waiting to be colored in and she realized that finishing the tattoo was what Wyatt had been speaking with Daniella about. The angel’s eyes were the same tones as the halo and it was, by far, one of the most magnificent pieces of art she’d ever seen.

  Her voice came out hushed as she said, “It’s beautiful.”

  “I got it for you, Michelle. Whether you like it or not, I’m your guardian angel and I’m never going to leave you, never let you get hurt. I’ll battle all your demons and fight through Hell for you, if you’ll let me.”

  She took another step closer, tracing her fingertips over the figure, feeling the warmth of Wyatt’s skin beneath the ink, the flex of his muscles as he looked over his shoulder at her. When their eyes met the frustration and love she saw in his gaze swept away all her doubts, all her bullshit, leaving her with a remarkably clear head. She moved around to face him, drinking in his solid muscles, his magnificently broad shoulders, and the piercings in his nipples. With a feeling of almost reverence filling her she leaned forward and kissed each piercing, the first public marking he’d done to show that he belonged to her.

  Then she looked up at him again, overwhelmed by how much she loved him and how much he loved her. “I’m not going to ask you to forgive me, because you’re right, that’s just bullshit at this point. Sometimes I feel like you know more about me than I know about myself and I’m constantly humbled, not just by your strength, but by your ability to love me. No matter how poorly I think of myself, how undeserving I feel, you never lose faith in me. You’re always there for me, no matter how much I try to push you away, always guarding me, always protecting me, even if it’s from myself. So I’m not going to say I’m sorry, even though I am, but instead, I’m going to really try to be worthy of you.”

  “Baby, I love you so much but I’m the one who needs to be worthy of you.” He cupped her face and gave her a gentle kiss. “I’m not bullshitting when I say you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, inside and out.”

  “You make me strong, Wyatt. You, your love, your presence, everything about you makes me feel like I’m on solid ground, like I have…someone to hold me up when I need it. Someone to brace me when things get rough.” She let out a shuddering breath and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her face against his warmth. “I just wish I could do the same for you.”

  He gave a soft laugh. “You have no idea how much you’ve helped me, do you? Michelle, if you hadn’t picked me up that day from jail, you and I know I probably wouldn’t be here right now. You saved me. Your love, your compassion, your kindness, and your unwavering determination kept me alive when no one else could, including myself. I’ve never had someone fight so hard for me. Never had someone love me as much as you do.”

  A tiny sense of pride burned away some of her guilt and she smiled against his skin, placing another kiss on the soft fur covering his chest. “So where do we go from here?”

  “Let’s take it one day at a time, for now. We both need to focus on getting on solid ground first.” He tensed against her, then blew out a harsh breath. “My therapist told me if I wanted you to be honest with me I needed to be honest with you, so here it goes. Earlier, on the beach? I almost lost it and hit you.”

  She leaned back in his arms and looked up, seeing the shame twisting his features. “But you didn’t.”

  “That’s only because I was holding on by the skin of my teeth. When I was in Chicago I got into several fights over stupid bullshit. Petrov finally threatened to lock me up in his dungeon if I didn’t get ahold of my anger issues. I don’t know what it is, though my therapist thinks it’s PTSD related, but I get so fucking pissed, and it’s like I just lose my mind. I mean I literally can’t think rationally about something, only letting my anger overwhelm me.” His grip on her tightened and his anxiety rolled off of him in almost visible waves. “If I ever hurt you I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, so if I ask you to give me space, you gotta listen to me, okay?”

  “Oh, Wyatt.” She caressed his face then ran her hands through his hair, loving how he calmed beneath her touch. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

  He sighed and gave her a brief kiss before releasing her. “I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking beat.”

  “Wyatt?”

  “Yeah?”

  She almost reached out to him, but kept her hands at her side. “When will you make love to me?”

  The devilish gleam in his eyes was nothing but trouble. “Why, baby? You feeling needy?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.” The urge to dominate him was strong, but she knew she hadn’t earned that right yet.

  “Good. I want you to be needy, I want you to get wet every time you look at me. I want that
beautiful pussy of yours sore and throbbing.” He took a step closer and the heat of his body washed over her like a caress. “Now you know how I felt when you wouldn’t make love to me. Sucks, doesn’t it?”

  She frowned up at him. “So this is payback?”

  “Yep.” He brushed his hands over her breasts, then began to lightly toy with her hard nipples beneath her shirt. “And paybacks are a bitch.”

  Chapter 16

  The next day, Michelle’s cell phone rang and she was surprised to see her mother’s name. She’d kept in touch with her dad and heard second hand about her mom’s progress in rehab, but she hadn’t been able to talk to her mom yet. A shiver of apprehension stiffened her spine, and it took her a couple rings to find the courage to answer the phone.

  “Hello, mother.”

  “Hello, Michelle.”

  Despite the fact that this was the first time they’d talked in well over a month, she found herself strangely at a loss for words. Part of her was still so very angry at her mother for all the bullshit she’d put Michelle through, but no matter how pissed she was still worried and it eased something inside of her to hear her mother’s voice. And it made her happy to hear the relaxation, the strength in her mother’s voice. One of the most fucked up things about the human condition was that no matter how terribly a parent might treat their child, there is always some small, tiny part of that kid’s soul that aches for love.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Good, very good. Better than I’ve been in a long, long time. Michelle, I owe you an enormous apology.”

  “What?”

  Her mother sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve been so cruel to you all these years, that I’ve expected you to live up to impossible standards, that I’ve been mentally abusive with you. I’ve been diagnosed with a mental illness, a personality disorder that I’ve had my whole life. I’m on medication for it now and it’s really helping me see the world for what it is, not what my mind tells me is reality.”

  She sagged against the countertop. “Mom, what are you talking about?”

  “I have Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder; it makes me seek perfection in everything I do, and I’m afraid I’ve projected it on you as well. You see, my…” Michelle’s mom cleared her throat but her words still came out thick as she said, “my mother was physically abusive with me. If I did anything wrong, if I didn’t do exactly what she wanted she would beat me. My father was a traveling salesman so he didn’t see the abuse, or he didn’t want to see it, but it was bad. I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel sorry for me, or to excuse my behavior, but so that hopefully you’ll understand part of what made me the way I am.”

  Tears burned Michelle’s eyes as her mother’s voice broke on the last word. “I had no idea.”

  “No one did. I hid it from everyone, including your father. I thought if I could pretend it didn’t happen that I would forget about it, that it would go away. Unfortunately, that need for perfection turned into an illness with me, a need for control that warped my view of the world. I believe that I was especially hard with you because you look so much like me, Michelle. I would see you and the need to protect you from the punishment for being imperfect would twist my thoughts. Like I was somehow saving you from my mother by making sure you never did anything wrong.” She gave a watery laugh. “I was trying to protect you from a ghost, and in doing so, I was hurting you just as bad as if I used my fists. I’m so, so sorry for how horrible I was to you and I’m so very sorry that I made my love for you seem conditional. It never was. I love you no matter what.”

  “Mom…that’s just…I had no idea.”

  A woman’s voice sounded in the background over the phone and her mother said, “I have to go now. It’s time for my evening group therapy. What I mostly wanted to tell you is that I was wrong about Wyatt. He loves you and he’s a good man. He didn’t deserve the terrible things I said to him, and for what it’s worth, you both have my blessings. He’s very, very lucky to have such a wonderful woman to love. I’m so proud of you, Michelle and all that you’ve accomplished. You’re an amazing woman and you deserve to be loved. I have to go. I love you, darling, and I’m so proud of you.”

  Her throat closed up as she whispered, “I love you too.”

  She stood against the counter for a long time, staring with unseeing eyes out the small window above the sink at the grassy dunes below. Her entire history with her mother had been rewritten with that conversation, and as she went through various moments in her past with a new understanding, she began to slowly change her view of herself. Maybe she wasn’t as damaged as she thought. Maybe she was worthy of Wyatt’s love. Her tense muscles slowly began to relax and she felt something loosening inside of her heart, a darkness lifting from her as she realized that Wyatt loved her, warts and all, that she wasn’t doomed to disappoint him because she wasn’t perfect.

  Wyatt walked into the kitchen and stopped as soon as he saw her face. “You okay, baby?”

  She held her arms open and he immediately stepped into them, cuddling her close. “I’m okay. I just got off the phone with my mom.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Good. I think she’s good.”

  “Then why are you so upset? Did she say something to hurt you?”

  “No, no it wasn’t like that.”

  Still holding him, she told him about her conversation with her mother, and by the end she was crying. “I feel so bad, Wyatt. All these years I’ve hated her and she was sick.”

  “Sweetheart, you have nothing to feel bad about. What she did to you was fucked up, but you know what? It didn’t break you. No matter what bullshit she threw at you, no matter how much she screwed with your mind, you still managed to grow up into the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

  She rubbed her face against his shirt, drying her tears. “I don’t deserve you.”

  To her surprise he took her by the shoulders, hard. “Don’t say that bullshit, Michelle. You do deserve me and I deserve you. I love you, all of you, the bad and the good. I don’t love you because you’re perfect, or pretend to be, I love you because of who you are, warts and all.”

  A surprised giggle escaped her. “Warts and all?”

  “Yep.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Now, go throw some clothes on, I’m taking my girl out for some ice cream therapy.”

  Shaking her head, she grinned up at him. “Ice cream therapy?”

  “Yep. Whenever my sister was bummed out when we were younger I’d take her to the local ice cream parlor where she’d get the biggest hot fudge sundae they had. Even if she was having a stressful day by the time she loaded up on hot fudge sauce she was in a better mood.”

  Leaning up on her tiptoes she brushed her lips over his, a warm current of desire washing the last of the sadness from her. “How about we get some hot fudge and eat it off each other?”

  “Bad girl,” Wyatt whispered against her lips with a soft laugh in his voice.

  Rubbing herself against him like a shameless hussy, she ran her hands over his hard shoulders. “I would love to show you how bad I can be.”

  For a moment she thought he would give in, but then he sighed and stepped away. “Go get dressed, you temptress.”

  She wanted to grab him, throw him to the floor, then tie him up and fuck him until he couldn’t get hard anymore and it took everything she had to not do just that. “When, Wyatt? When do I get to fuck you?”

  “When you earn it, sweetheart.”

  “Is there even a chance of earning it? Ever? Or are you just going to keep me in a state of perpetual sexual frustration?”

  He licked his lips slowly and she swore she had a mini-orgasm at the sensual heat pouring from him. “It all depends on you, Michelle.”

  “What kind of vague, messed up answer is that?”

  “Like I said, it’s all up to you.”

  Frustrated, she stomped up the stairs, swearing that when she’d finally earned his forgiveness she was going to lock him up
in her dungeon for a week and screw him into a coma.

  Six days later, Michelle was pretty sure she was either going to rape Wyatt or kill him in his sleep. Both were equally possible as she was reaching the end of her patience with her sexy-as-hell temporary Dom. Their time together had settled into a comfortable rhythm for them, exercise in the morning, the afternoon spent either with the therapist or at the Front Line center, then the evening at home doing normal, boring yet fun couple shit. In a way they were making up for all the small steps in a relationship they’d missed out on when they went from nothing to everything right out of the gate. They played board games, watched movies, played cards, read books, went on dates, and did everything except have sex.

  Oh, Wyatt got his nightly blow job, but he still hadn’t allowed her any release and she was just about out of her mind with the need to come. It was to the point where she was tempted to touch herself whenever she had a moment alone, but Wyatt said he would know and she had a feeling he would. He was remarkably adept at reading her, much to her enjoyment and disappointment.

  They’d both had their rough moments, times when they’d ended up screaming at each other and storming off, but the difference between their fights now and their earlier disagreements was she wasn’t worried that he would leave her. Somehow he’d managed to convince her screwed up mind that he wasn’t going to take off at the first hint of adversity and she was more grateful than she could put into words that she could depend on him. Yesterday, after a particularly intense session with her therapist where she discussed her dad cheating on her mom she’d been extremely edgy and spoiling for a fight. Wyatt gave it to her, but not in the way she expected. Instead of letting her snap and snarl at him, he’d challenged her to a wrestling match, best two out of three, winner gets an orgasm.

  While she knew she didn’t have a hope in hell at pinning him, it felt really fucking good to unleash her anger on him, knowing that no matter how rough she was with him he could take it and keep her from hurting him. By the time he’d pinned her the third time, after toying with her, she’d been both emotionally and mentally exhausted, but somehow felt cleansed. She could understand now why guys seemed to find fighting to be a way to let off tension, because it sure as hell worked with her.