Walk For Me: Club Avalon Book 4

by Kay Elle Parker

  He could almost see his friend rolling her eyes at his response.

  Connie: At least you’re not quite as useless as most men in this situation. Yes to the bath and bottle. Just ask her which she prefers, and I’ll bring some with me. It’s not a catastrophic event, Att.

  In Alicia’s case, he could envision it becoming monumental. One fuck up on his part, and his princess would lose confidence in him. He’d beg, bribe, threaten the big gun—aka Connie—into helping if he had to. Code red, Con. I don’t think she’s had a lot of experience with these things, and I’m not so hot on the subject.

  Instead of a text, she called him, and got straight to the point. “Tell me what the hell is going on, Atticus. Alicia’s twenty-four. Even if she was late hitting puberty, she should be well versed in what happens during her period and how to handle it.”

  He winced. This was where things got twisted. He could divulge the long, sordid truth as he knew it, along with his theory, or he could lie his ass off and shorten the tale. After a brief silence, he went for a mixture of both. “The doctor who treated Alicia at the time of the accident put her on medication. Meds that she took for years, until she went to live with you. I think they suppressed her menstrual cycles—she told me she got her first one when she was at the facility.”

  “Oh God.”

  “Her current physical condition is improving, but I think her body has limited certain functions to protect itself.” He rubbed his cheek against Alicia’s head as she stirred. “I may have neglected to take the female reproductive system into account when I stocked up on supplies.”

  “That’s not like you.”

  “Lived by myself for a long time now,” Atticus reminded her. “Never really made it a habit to buy those kinds of products, and it didn’t occur to me that she’d need them at some point. You’re going to take pity on me, aren’t you, and come save me? No,” he corrected with a smile. “You’re going to come save Lisha from the bumbling asshole who has no clue how to explain this to her.”

  If Connie said no, he’d deal with it. For God’s sake, he’d been shot at, evaded knife attacks, and taken down some of the most ruthless men on the planet—he could see Alicia through some cramps and bleeding. But she needed the voice of experience, a woman’s touch to guide her through the questions.

  “Do your Daddy thing and make her comfortable,” Connie said on a sigh. She muttered something away from the phone, and Atticus heard Thane answer her. “We’ll head to the store, then straight to your place. Do you need me to pick up anything else?”

  “Do I need anything else in this situation?”

  “Jesus, Att, she could have you wrapped around her little finger if she realizes how easily this throws you off your game. I’ll get what you need and see you soon.”

  When the line went dead, he stared at the phone with mock outrage. Off his game? Him? Pffft, not likely. Maybe he was being cautious with the subject, but only because of Alicia’s history and not knowing the full extent of Elliot’s abuse.

  “You called Connie,” Lisha mumbled, turning her face into his chest.

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  Atticus raised his eyebrow, even though she couldn’t see it. “Daddy’s prerogative. Connie can give you answers I might not know. You haven’t told me what you want from this relationship, princess, and I’m not going to force it. Con will teach you how to use tampons or pads, or whatever the hell you choose to use.”

  Slowly, her head lifted, and she stared at him. “I didn’t tell you?”

  “No, we got sidetracked. We’ll worry about it later.”

  “I want you, Daddy. I want all of it, but if I can only have a little bit, I choose you.” She stiffened and moaned, her hand jabbing into her stomach just above her pubic bone. “Why does it feel as though someone is digging around in my insides? If this is normal, it’s cruel.”

  I choose you. Those three words thickened his cock. “I’ll give you all of it, Alicia. All of me, all of us.” He took a testing step over the boundary line he’d held in place since he’d met her, kissing her softly and erasing the pained confusion in her eyes. His hand shifted, covering her breast instead of curling around her waist, drawing a moan from her throat.

  “Are they supposed to be sore?” she whispered against his mouth.

  “Want me to kiss them better?”

  “Maybe later, Daddy.” Alicia’s lips parted for him, welcoming him into a warm, gentle kiss that appeased his darker urges.

  He couldn’t be rough and possessive when she already felt beaten up and uncomfortable. Every step of this journey together had to be carefully measured, potential triggers calculated and removed.

  But fuck, she tasted sweet.

  “All right, princess, time for a bath.” It cost Atticus to pull away, but he could feel both of them slipping into that dangerous ditch where kissing led to hands cruising over skin, seeking out the finer points of pleasure. “Where did you leave your bear?”

  Alicia leaned back, licking her lips as though craving one last taste of him, with her eyes a little unfocused. Perfect. She teased one of the buttons on his shirt. “Mr. Bear was tired after yesterday. He didn’t feel like getting out of bed this morning, so I left him to sleep it off.”

  “Mr. Bear?”

  Her thin shoulders lifted. “I don’t know what to call him. The last thing I named got cut open and stuffed with drugs. Anything I cared about enough to name ended up ruined.”

  Atticus squashed his temper. Abraham was dead and buried, paying for his sins with an eternity in hell. “No one is going to touch this one, Lisha. You call him what you like.” He stood and set her down in the wheelchair, resting his hand on the handle. “We’ll let him sleep while you have a bath, then we’ll wake him up so he can watch movies all afternoon. Connie and Thane would like to meet him.”

  She shot him a glare, which turned into a pout when he silently dared her to argue his decision. “I don’t want Connie to see me like this.”

  Mulling over his reply, Att started pushing her toward the bedrooms. “Things are what they are, pretty girl. Everyone has wants. You don’t want to see Connie just yet, she wants to see you because she’s going insane wondering why you’ve cut her out of your life. I want to see both of you happy and rebuilding the friendship that’s become strained. Something has to bend in order for everyone to get what they want.”

  “I’m beginning to hate that word.”

  He ignored her petulant mutter. “Is it going to hurt her to see you? Yeah. There’s no way around it, Lisha. Just like it’s going to upset you. But getting past that initial hurt means you get something sweeter in return.”

  As they entered her room, Atticus stifled a laugh. The bed was haphazardly made on Alicia’s side, but on the other…Mr. Bear was tucked lovingly against the pillow, the covers drawn up to the furry neck. Alicia had taken some care with her new friend.

  He stopped the chair by the bed, then plucked her out and set her on the mattress to save her from struggling when she wasn’t feeling well. “Stay right here while I set the water running.”

  Her lips quirked. “Can’t really go anywhere.”

  “With you, I wouldn’t be surprised.” He turned to walk into the bathroom, already calculating whether the water should be warmer or cooler to soothe the ache. He figured warmer if Connie approved a hot water bottle.

  “Daddy?”

  Atticus glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, princess?”

  “Please, can I have bubbles?”

  “Yeah, baby, you can have bubbles.” Chuckling to himself, he disappeared into the bathroom, then paused as he heard her talking. Not to him, he realized, but to the damn bear.

  Alicia was lonely, even if she didn’t realize it. All her life she’d been kept confined, held prisoner to her parents. Enough that, when Connie took her under her wing, her social skills were pitifully lacking. Her stint at Handicapable Rehabilitation hadn’t been the awakening she’d been promised in thos
e lying brochures, but another shackle around her ankle.

  Now she was with him, she’d blossomed. One-on-one conversation wasn’t a hardship, once she knew she was safe, but he’d seen her interact with the others at Avalon the couple of times she’d visited last year, and she’d been withdrawn. Kept her head down and her mouth closed, wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, and tried her damnedest to fade into the shadows where she thought she belonged.

  He wanted more for her.

  As he plugged the bath and set the water running, Atticus dared to think of the future. Not tomorrow, not next week, not even six months from now, but the future. Five years, ten years, twenty years ahead.

  Ambitious? Hell, yes.

  Alicia could be whatever she dreamed of being. She was young, she was open to learning, and God knew she had an intelligent brain in that beautiful skull. Regardless of whether she was still in that fucking chair, she could achieve anything she put her mind to once she believed in herself.

  He poured a hefty dollop of bubble bath goop into the water, and made sure there was a clean towel draped over the heating rack, then moved back to the doorway to see what Alicia was up to.

  She’d pulled herself onto the mattress and rolled onto her side, curling around the bear. The slight rock of her body told him she was uncomfortable, which made him wonder if he’d given her enough pain meds to dull whatever discomfort she was suffering.

  When he returned to the bath, it was almost three-quarters full of gently steaming water and froth. He turned the taps off and dunked his hand, satisfied the heat would numb the cramps.

  It was debilitating, not knowing what to do for her.

  “All right,” he said cheerfully as he walked back into the bedroom. “We’ve got one hot bubble bath at the ready, complete with the requested bubbles. Bath duckie is on vacation, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to make do with me.” Wiggling his eyebrows at her, he helped her sit up again, and stripped her of her bottoms while she clutched the bear.

  Her whimper of protest died when his eyes stroked over her bare thighs, and the blood streaking over her pale skin like war paint. Most of it was dry, but some was still sticky and fresh.

  His hand caressed the back of her head, tilting it back so she looked at him. That haunted expression was on her face again, the fearful one that told him she was expecting—at the very least—to be shouted at and degraded. “I should’ve been more prepared, Lisha. But it’s okay. It’s only blood, it washes away.”

  Her hands kneaded the bear until he pried it away. Her lips trembled, trying to firm, as he removed the rest of her clothing. “It’s everywhere.”

  Instead of making it a big deal, Atticus smiled at her. “Blood has a tendency to do that, princess. Come on, you’ll feel better once you’re clean. Connie is being a doting mother hen and bringing you everything you need.” He scooped her into his arms, leaving Mr. Bear on the bed, and carried her into the bathroom. “We’ll have a nice afternoon together, then Connie is going to stay with you for a few hours tonight.”

  “She—what?”

  “Someone called in a favor. A couple of friends, actually. I won’t be gone long.”

  Alicia’s eyes were full of questions and speculation as he laid her in the water. The wheels of her smart brain were smoking, they were spinning so fast. “Are you going to…to the club? The sex club?”

  There was no point in lying to her. From the start, he’d demanded honesty from Alicia, so it stood to reason that he should honor his own rule. Especially when it came to being honest with himself.

  The truth?

  Fuck, the truth was, he was now stuck between a promise to his friends and the growing tide of feelings he felt for Alicia. She gave him everything he’d been missing in his life for years. Already, his house felt more like a home than it ever had, and having her here with him filled the place with a sense of yes, this is how it is meant to be.

  “Avalon. Yes, that’s where we’re meeting.”

  Hurt flickered in the blue, then vanished. An ingrained habit, one he didn’t like. “You’re not going to a sex club for coffee and a chat. Is…is she pretty, the woman you’re going to fuck?”

  Atticus lathered the washcloth he took from the edge of the bath. “Little girls don’t use bad language, Lisha. I’m not going for casual sex. I made a promise to some friends that I would help them with a scene. It’s a one-time-only deal.”

  “That doesn’t answer whether she’s pretty or not.”

  He sighed. “It’s Anarchy.”

  Alicia blinked at him, her mouth dropping open. “She’s cheating on Jasper, with you?”

  Her tone, so rich with accusation, made him physically recoil. Cheating was—and never would be—on his list of sins. Even as the barb that she believed he could do such a thing to one of his best friends lodged under his ribs, his dominance rose to the surface and shimmered hotly. “I have never, will never, cheat. Jasper and Anarchy asked me to be their third in a threesome—a fantasy of Archie’s.”

  “Oh.”

  There was no sense in overloading her with information, he decided. She wouldn’t retain anything he told her, and she would ask the questions to form her own opinion. So he stayed quiet, washing her with the cloth from neck to fingertips. Pampering her as steam misted the room.

  “I don’t think that would feel good. Is it because she’s a markist? Because if it hurts with one man, two…two really doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

  Atticus frowned at her. “A markist? Do you mean masochist, princess?”

  Chapter Eight

  Okay, maybe she was slightly confused. Some of that came down to the fact she couldn’t understand the whole concept of a woman willingly having sex with two men. Two, plural.

  One of her long-hated memories slipped from the vault, and Alicia remembered pushing at Abraham’s chest, digging her ragged nails into his shirt as he rutted into her, hot breath panting over her face and choking her with the nauseating scent of scotch and smoke. Her throat had burned dry with her screams as he pushed inside her, telling her she would earn her fucking keep one way or another.

  “Alicia. Alicia, take a breath.”

  She jolted back to reality, perturbed by the thrash of her arms splashing water everywhere. One long inhale cleared the knot of panic in her throat, a slow exhale brought Atticus’ worried face into focus. “I’m okay. Just had a brain blip.” She cleared her throat, trying to recall the last thing Atticus had said to her before she took a step back in time. “Masochist. That’s what I meant.”

  “You’re afraid of sex.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, aware her voice wasn’t quite as strong as it should be. She tried harder to stop it from wavering at the end. “That isn’t what we’re talking about, anyway. We were talking about how you are going to a sex club tonight to fuck a woman who’s in a committed relationship with another man, because she wants to have sex with two men.”

  His gaze darkened. “Language, Alicia.”

  “Look, I’m fine with it. I dropped into your life and messed everything up for you. It’s been over a week, and you haven’t been to work, you haven’t gone to the sex club—”

  “Avalon,” he corrected.

  “Yes, there. My intrusion has put your life on hold, and I’m sorry for that. So, you should go and fulfil your promise tonight. Go fuck the gorgeous blonde and make her happy. I don’t need Connie to babysit me, so you can tell her not to bother.”

  Funny how things changed in an instant. One moment, she was soaking in hot water and bubbles, enjoying the relief the heat brought to her lower belly. The next, she was being dragged over the side of the bath, the porcelain rim firing a line of cold across her warm skin, with a hand the size of an oar smacking sharply across her wet flesh like the snap and sizzle of a firecracker.

  The first slap stole her breath. She flailed, seeking something to hold onto before she slipped out of the bath completely, then realized Atticus’ thick arm was supporting her up
per body securely. The second slap landed on her other ass cheek, sending a different kind of warmth leeching into her core. Slaps three and four cracked the underside of her buttocks, releasing a guttural moan she hadn’t known she was capable of producing, while five and six almost finished her off.

  Recovering from whatever the hell had just happened, she tried to catch her breath as Atticus lowered her back into the water gently. Now she was all messed up, hot and bothered, and strangely on the verge of tears.

  “From now on,” Atticus said darkly, fishing the cloth from the unsettled water, “when I tell you to watch your language, there won’t be a second warning. Little girls do not use profanity unless they want their bottoms to sting when they sit down.”

  Shit, the tears really wanted to come. “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Anarchy isn’t mine. She’ll never be mine, and that’s a good thing. Her future is tied to Jasper. I know you don’t grasp the concept of trust, Lisha, but it’s an important part of who we are in the club. We are a family. When we need something, we go to our family first.” He started washing her legs, not caring he was soaked from the chest down. “They asked me to be involved in this because they know they can trust me not to hurt Anarchy. Do you understand that?”

  No, she didn’t. Sex equaled pain in her world—she assumed it did for everyone. Alicia was willing to suffer through it if it meant she could be closer to Atticus, if it would make him happy, but she couldn’t understand why anyone would double that pain.

  “Then you should do it.” Alicia wished she had Mr. Bear to hold. Having something soft to cuddle when she was sacrificing her heart for the greater good would lessen the blow of imagining the man she was in love with fucking another woman. “They’ve asked you for a reason, so you need to follow through. That’s what the good guy does, right?”

  “Alicia—”

  “I’d like to be left alone, Atticus.” She couldn’t call him Daddy, not now. “I can, ah, do the rest of this myself. Don’t pull the dominant card on me, I just want a few minutes on my own.”