by ML Nystrom
“All right then, prove it. Come party with us in the library. You know you want to.”
“No, I don’t.”
He smirked at me. “Like I said, little girl playing dress up. Wanna go get your dolls?”
“I’m not a little girl, and I never played with dolls.”
“Then come hang with the college crowd. With the men and not the boys. Just one drink.” He turned to look at my brother as if making a challenge. “Magnus, you care if she drinks with us?”
Magnus snorted. “I don’t give a shit about her or what she does.”
Robert grinned. “See? Big brother is cool. Come on, Melanie. Show us you’re not a little high school girl.”
The look in his eyes should have warned me. His teasing bugged me as much as Magnus’s indifference. Little girl? Immature? Nope, not me. I was all grown up now and as sophisticated as any of the girls in college.
He opened the heavy door to my father’s study. I seldom came in this dark room with the heavy furniture. Magnus closed the door, and the volume of the music cut in half.
“Let’s get this party started, shall we? Archie, go make Melanie a drink.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh, make it a little one.”
Robert laughed, and the sound filled me with unease. I glanced at the door and thought about leaving, but it would take a big chunk out of my pride to have to retreat.
“Come on, little girl. Little princess. Prove how mature you are.”
Archie held out a chunky glass half full of amber liquid. I took it and, without thinking, took a big swallow.
Fuck! The burn of the liquor slid down my throat, leaving a trail of lava in its wake. I choked back the tears and struggled not to cough out the fire that erupted in my gut. I didn’t know what type of alcohol he gave me, and I didn’t care. That shit tasted nasty, and I never wanted to drink it again.
Robert threw back his head and laughed at my suffering. “Ha-ha-ha-ha! That’s it, baby. You’re drinking like a pro. I’m impressed.”
I glanced at Magnus. He curled his lip at me and turned his head away in a deliberate snub. I may have been drinking like a pro, but my brother considered me beneath him. I should be used to it by now, but it still hurt. Robert’s words of admiration actually meant something to me, and I smiled at him. He looked at me with glazed eyes and took a big sip of his own drink.
“That’s it, baby. Drink up. Show me just how old you are.”
I tipped the glass back with a flourish, showing off my new talent. The liquor didn’t burn quite as bad. I giggled and flipped my hair. Robert’s attention had me thinking he might not be so bad, or maybe he was sorry about the way he treated me growing up. He was so handsome even when he was being an asshole to me. Now he saw me as a mature woman, and his equal. Someone who at last, believed I had value as a person.
“Finish it up, Mel, and Archie’ll ged choo anudder won.”
My head got swimmy, and Robert’s voice sounded like a record on slow speed. Something was happening to me. The glass slipped from my hand, but I blacked out before I heard it hit the floor.
The next memory I wish I could forget.
I had no control or choice. My consciousness faded in and out, but I knew what Robert did to me. The pain he inflicted on me while Archie and Magnus watched. Decent people stepped in to help strangers every day, but no one was there to rescue me. My parents were gone, and so was Bee-Dee. My friends were too busy at the party tearing up my house. I had no idea where Vincent had gone, or if he would have helped me. My own brother let it happen. How could he? He really didn’t care. No love lived in his heart for me. No sense of protection. Robert hurt my body. Magnus hurt me worse in my heart.
When Robert finished, he got off my prone body. “Toldja that shit works fast. Arch, you want a turn?”
“No thanks, man.” Archie couldn’t look at me. He seemed nervous and a little grossed out, like he couldn’t believe what he just saw.
Robert peeled off the condom and knotted it. “I hope you’re not plannin’ on runnin’ off to Daddy. This was payback for getting me in trouble with Coach that one time. You tell anyone, I’ll come back and do it again. This time in your ass.”
I believed him. I was alone. Nobody had my back. Nobody would stop him if he chose to follow through with his threat.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I could barely get the words out.
Magnus looked down at me, his eyes cold. “You were born.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Melanie, wake up. Wake up!”
I fought. I clawed. I slapped and punched the body that loomed over me.
“Melanie, it’s me. It’s Owen. Wake up.”
I didn’t know how long I struggled until I recognized the concerned face above mine. I gasped for breath, and my chest jerked with each hard pound of my heart.
“Owen?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Where are we?”
“Guest room at Bevvie and Connor’s house.”
“I’m… I’m… safe?”
His face turned to granite. “Yes, you’re safe. Always.”
“I had a bad dream.”
“I could tell.”
“A nightmare.”
“Yes.”
“Did I wake you?”
“You were screaming.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. It sounded pretty real. You sure it was just a dream?”
I couldn’t lie to him. I couldn’t tell him the truth. The adrenaline rush hit me, and I started to shake. “D-d-did I wake Garrett?”
“Garrett can sleep through an earthquake. He’s fine where he is.”
My teeth clicked together, and I clenched every muscle I had to try to bring myself under control. It didn’t work. Owen made a noise and settled himself to spoon me from behind, molding the shape of his body to fit. His legs crooked into my knees, his hips and torso tucked against mine so I felt every shift. His heavy arms went one under my head and one over my chest and shoulders, locking me in place. Not an inch of space remained between him and me. My shaking subsided, and my cramping muscles slowly unlocked.
“Who was it?”
God, he knows. Somehow, he knows. What the fuck did I scream? “Wh-who was what?”
“Who did this to you?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to beat the shit out of him. Then I’m going to let Garrett beat the shit out of him. Then Connor. Then Bevvie. Then I’m going to start it all over again.”
Big neon flashing sign! He spoke in whole sentences, which told me his mind was back with me. That, or his anger was focused to a razor-sharp edge. “It happened a long time ago.”
“It doesn’t matter if it happened yesterday or twenty years ago. I’m still going to beat the shit out of him.”
“Owen.”
“No. You… Fuck, Mel, I heard your scream before I could get you awake. You said stop. You said no. You said it hurts. You said I’m bleeding. You begged for help. You fought me when I woke you to stop the nightmare. I don’t have a college degree, but I’m not stupid.”
No, Owen was not stupid. He was actually one of the smartest people I knew and had a depth not many people understood. This new knowledge of me, I couldn’t walk back, nor hide from him. “It happened a long time ago, and I never told anyone. It was my intention to take it to the grave, but I guess that’s impossible now. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself. I don’t want anyone else to know.”
His whispered breath brushed across my cheek and his voice rumbled with emotion in my ear. “Christ, Melanie. You’ve carried that shit with you for fucking years. There are people in your life who love you that are more than willing to help you heal.”
I had the impulse to deny, deny, deny. It was on the tip of my tongue to say I was over it. That I had already healed myself and didn’t need anyone. It didn’t matter anymore. Hiding behind false bravado and a smart-ass attitude had taken me
this far and if needed, I could fake it for a lifetime, right?
Heat flushed through me and I took a big breath to calm my nerves. “That’s too much to ask of anyone. I know Bevvie and Connor and the kids care about me, but I can’t dump my problems on them."
Owen tightened his arm, and his heat burned into me. “What about me? I care about you too. A lot. More than you think.”
Oh, shit! Dangerous waters ahead. His words thrilled me and scared me at the same time. It was easier to make confessions at night where faces could stay hidden in a layer of protection. In the daylight, all thoughts and feelings became visible. Then it got complicated. Here in the dark, hearts can be laid open and words said that cannot be spoken when face-to-face. “I know you care about me, Owen. I don’t want my shit to fuck things up between us.”
“I love you.”
Those three words hit me like pointed shards of ice. In my favorite romance stories, when the man made his love confession, the woman melted into a big pile of emotional goo. Then they had the best sex of their lives, full of descriptive adjectives for several pages. Owen’s declaration didn’t fill me with fluffy feelings and thoughts. I was totally and completely scared out of my ever-lovin’ mind.
The truth was harder to face and there it was, standing right in front of me. Even in the dark I saw it with a clarity that left me as one big, raw, open wound. How many fucking times in my life had I sought one-night stands just to feel something? Anything. How many times had I let someone touch me and not known his last name? How many times did I mistake lust for love? Was I worthy of it? Would I ever be good enough for someone’s love? How could I even recognize it?
“I don’t know how you can love me.”
“Yes, I can.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t deserve it. I’m so fucked-up, I don’t deserve anyone’s love.”
Owen’s voice growled in my ear as he proceeded to gut me completely. “No one deserves to be loved. It’s not something you have to work for either. You don’t buy it like you do milk in a grocery store. It’s not about clothes or looks or money. I know your family thinks that way, and I’ve seen firsthand that being rich doesn’t mean shit when it comes to loving someone.”
Owen’s lips pressed into the spot just under my earlobe. “Listen well, Melanie. You know I don’t bullshit. Ever. There’s nothing you can do to make me love you. Nothing you can say, nothing you can buy. Not sex or the promise of it. Not a house or car. You do not and cannot make me love you. I just do. Something else you should figure out. You can’t make me love you, and you can’t stop me from loving you either.”
I couldn’t contain it. I let the torrent free and totally flooded the shoulder underneath my cheek. My fingers dug into his skin as I clung to his strong arm. I didn’t know how long it took for me to empty. It might have been a few minutes. It might have been an hour. He stayed there throughout the entire deluge, holding me, breathing into my hair, kissing my skin, and murmuring I love you over and over. The shakes subsided at last. I should have been exhausted from the roller coaster emotions of the day. I wasn’t. I felt alive. I felt lighter. Freer. More open. I felt… I felt… I felt pure need.
“Owend?” Shit, my nose was plugged up.
He knew exactly what I asked and offered. “If I touch you now, I’m not going back to friends only. I’m committed and I’m not leaving. Are you ready for that? If you’re not, I can wait.”
“Yez, I’b ready. I’b zo ready, I’b scared shidless. Whad if I fuck this up? I don’t thinck I can take it.”
He chuckled as he shifted and moved me to my back. “You heard me, but you didn’t understand. You can’t force me to love you. You can’t make me stop loving you. No way can you fuck this up.”
He kissed me. Smooth lips rounded over mine, coaxing them apart, and I let him in. His tongue, slightly rough, stroked my mouth. “Is this safe? Won’t hurt the baby?”
“No. The doctor said I could have sex right up until labor if I wanted to, as long as it’s comfortable.”
He kept kissing me as he pulled up the T-shirt I wore, baring my chest. “Tell me when you want to stop. It won’t hurt me, and I’ll never hurt you.”
I’d done a lot of straight-up fucking. Hard, fast, animal fucking. The kind where bodies pounded so brutally against each other that I was sore for days. I’d had some experimental sex. Blindfolds, bondage, some spanking and flogging. I did anal a few times with one of my short-term boyfriends.
That was the first time I’d truly made love. Glowing coals smoldered in my belly as he moved over my breasts. They had grown more sensitive and my nipples larger. He circled each one gently before drawing a tight peak into his mouth. Ah, God, that tongue! Thrills shot through my body with each stroke. I arched into him, and he answered by cupping my other breast and playing with that nipple with his thumb. I heard a low, keening moan and realized it came from my own throat. Just before the pleasure became too much, he switched sides and treated both my breasts equally.
I was one big mass of finely tuned nerves. I felt everything ten times more than I normally did. His hands on my body, fingers on my skin, mouth on my breasts, neck, lips—there wasn’t a place he didn’t touch or explore as he learned the intricacies of my body. At last he lowered his head between my legs, stripped my panties, and spread me open. He didn’t play, tease, or tickle. He went right for the gold with a long, hard swipe across my clit that nearly sent me through the roof.
“Oh, fuck! O-man!”
I swear he smiled against my sex. Nibbles, strokes, hard sucks, light flicks; he played with me, sending me up the steep climb of a roller coaster and letting me slide back down before cresting the top. If he went any slower, I thought I would have a heart attack.
“Please, Owen. Please let me come!”
One long finger pressed around my entrance.
“Ahh!”
The digit pushed inside and pressed upward. His lips fastened over my clit, sucking it inside his mouth. His tongue rapidly flicked over the tip. Just as I thought I’d lose my mind, he pulled his finger out of me and reached lower to press it against my anus. I gasped at the unexpected intrusion. He only got the first knuckle in before I gave it up.
I fell over the edge in one long, continued wave of pleasure. He kept playing me, driving me through those coaster curves until I came a second time. Maybe it was a single nonstop orgasm. Whatever it was, it was good, and I wanted more.
He finally released me and moved to stretch out at my side. “Good?”
My laugh was breathy. “You couldn’t tell? Incredible, O-man. You have some serious talent, baby. Your turn.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m fine with waiting.”
God, this man! “And waste that hard-on? No way.”
The backs of two of his fingers stroked my shoulders. “It’d be awkward for you.”
“Not if I’m on top.”
Those fingers stilled. “Are you sure?”
Was I sure? Not of much in my chaotic life, but in this moment, right here, right now, I was sure I loved Owen MacAteer, and I wanted him inside me with a fierceness I’d never had before. I rolled up, pushed his shoulders to the bed, and straddled his hips. My hand snaked down between his legs and mine to find the big beautiful dick I’d seen and held once before. Big indeed. I grasped him and stroked the head across my pussy, coating him in wet. “This is mine. You made it for me, and I’m claiming it.”
His hands came to my hips as I eased myself down. The broad head breached my opening, and he slid inside. His eyes stayed on mine as I took him all the way. Sensation flooded my body, and words flooded my mind. Tight fit. Full. Stretched. Wonderful. Home.
This connection went much deeper than physical contact. He moved, flexing and making me gasp at the intensity of his touch.
“Owen.” I had no other words. I didn’t need them. He held my hips as I rocked on top of him. He let me set the pace, easi
ng in and out of my channel. God, he felt good! So fucking good. I leaned back as he slipped a hand between my legs and his thumb slowly circled my clit.
“Mel, I can’t hold back much longer.” His growling tone vibrated in the room. I felt his quivering body as he tried to slow down. “Come with me.”
He flexed inside me, pressing on my magic spot. My breath rushed out of me as I came. Half a second later, I felt his final push, and he came with powerful pulses, buried deep, filling me with everything he had.
In the aftermath, Owen got up and went into the bathroom, leaving me in the bed with a tender kiss to my forehead. The light from the bathroom and the noise of the faucet running made my brain kick in, and I started to think.
Oh my God, I just fucked Owen MacAteer. Not fucked. Made love. Owen MacAteer made love to me. This is the real deal. I can’t go back, can I? Do I want to?
Owen came back in the room, his naked form outlined for a moment before he turned off the bathroom light. He walked over to me and gently eased my legs apart to clean me with a warm cloth. His ministrations made me feel loved, respected, treasured—all the feels I could ever want from a man. I reached a hand up to stroke his bearded cheek. The faint moonlight made his eyes glitter as he looked into mine. I pulled his face to me for a kiss and whispered against his lips. “I love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bevvie was right when she told me I’d never find another man to have my back like a MacAteer man. They should come with warning labels. No thirty-day trial period, no try it before you buy it. No returns or exchanges for a different size. Once Owen decided he was my man and I was his woman, he committed one hundred percent. We became a real couple who spent every waking minute together outside of work. He came to my house every night to paint rooms, hang blinds, and install a new water heater. I unpacked, hung pictures, and watched my stomach grow bigger. We went grocery shopping together—or rather, I went grocery shopping with him, since he did almost all the cooking. We hung out at Bevvie and Connor’s house. He took Bevvie’s place at the birthing classes, coaching me to breathe and pant. He went with me to pick out Beatrix Potter themed baby bedding with Peter Rabbit, Mrs. Tiggy Winkle, Benjamin Bunny, and other characters from those classic children’s books. He built me a bunny lamp and bookshelves for the nursery and painted them to match the theme. He installed himself in my life so thoroughly, it was hard to think of a time when he wasn’t there.
