The women’s shelter was on the way to my next meeting. I had more money than I knew what to do with. It killed me to know that there were women out there like Annie’s mom and even kids who had to see and go through what Annie had to from a very young age.
I knocked at the door and a white woman with dark brown hair cut short answered the door, her ready smile slipping at the sight of me. “Can I help you, sir?” Her voice sounded alarmed. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised since these women were hurt by men. That pissed me off. Not all of us were despicable human beings.
I smiled politely at her, unfolding the paper in my hands.
She looked down. “Ah, Eliza. She’s one of our counselors. Do you need to see her?”
I shook my head. “No. I wanted to see about making a donation to the facility.”
Her smile brightened. “Oh, well then. Come in my office and we can talk.” I followed her up the stairs into a room, where she closed the door. When we both sat and I placed the check I had already filled out on her desk, she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her stomach. “Do you have someone who has dealt with domestic abuse?”
I frowned without meaning to. “More of a secondhand smoke type of thing.”
“Ah,” she said, her voice soft, full of understanding. “The kids. Hurt my heart. Here we do lots of things with the kids, if you’re interested in hearing.”
I nodded and she proceeded.
“With the women, the mothers, we do our best to try and be a shoulder for them to lean and cry on. Their days are mostly filled with therapy sessions, group sessions with the other women, finding a hobby, or job searching. With the kids, it’s difficult. Some of the kids are so young that they won’t remember seeing their dad do horrible things to their mom, so for them, we just focus on making them the happiest. With toys and playtime, we pretty much succeed. The middle age kids, ranging from five to twelve years old, it’s tricky. They remember and they remember vividly. Therapy sessions are vital to their recovery. They are at such a vulnerable point in their life. We try to get them into sports or reading or learning. It’s escapism for a little while. With the older kids, the teenagers, it’s both harder and easier. Teenagers are stubborn creatures, so there’s a chance of about twenty percent that they’ll love therapy sessions. With the young men, we have an entire game room downstairs with every game console known to mankind. That keeps them pretty occupied. For the girls, we just had a new volunteer come in and has been an actual blessing. She teaches them self-defense.” She looked down at her watch. “Actually, the first class happens in about twenty minutes.”
She heaved a big breath, taking a sip of water. “A lot of good things happen here and I’m grateful for your donation. Most of what happens here is positive. Of course, we wish there wasn’t a reason women needed to take refuge but we try to make it positive for them while they’re here.”
“From what I could tell, they’re in good hands.”
She smiled at me, dimples in both of her cheeks. “Okay, tour time and then I have to ditch you because I need to oversee that new defense class.”
I rose from my seat and followed her back downstairs. She showed me every room I saw when I walked in. Pointed out all of the areas, the kitchen, and the offices.
“Ooh,” she said, grabbing my arm, clearly excited. “Our volunteer is here right now. I’ll give you a look into the class.” She didn’t let go of my arm as she pulled me down the hall. The room was wide, with mats laid all over the floor, mirrors covering one entire wall. There were about two dozen women in the room. They were all facing the mirror, legs spread shoulder length apart, punching the air. Their form was perfect.
“Okay ladies,” the trainer who I couldn’t see said. “I want to see you partner up. Focus on your swings and on blocking. If anyone somehow gets a black eye, both parties are banned from class.”
That voice was a caress to my heart. This woman. This fucking woman. The women parted, letting me see her. Her eyes widened when she saw me. She walked toward me, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
“Hector.” My name was a breath on her lips.
“Hey, bonita,” I murmured softly.
She smiled, sliding up to my side, wrapping her arms around my back. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, not answering me. Our eyes connected and we were silent, unconcerned about the twenty or so people that were in the room. Her fingers tightened against my t-shirt.
“Hey, Annie.” A girl came into view, breaking our spell. Annie jerked away from me, her eyes focused on the girl in question. She was a white girl, no older than fourteen years old, determination set in her eyes. “I was wondering if you could show me that move again. How to get out of a hold. It’s the one thing I can’t seem to do.”
Annie didn’t smile, she just nodded and followed the girl, not even bothering to say goodbye. I watched after her. The girl took at least twenty attempts of breaking out of Annie’s hold, Annie whispering a comment after each failed try. She tried again, this time succeeding and sending Annie to the floor, flat on her back. Annie smiled then and the look on the teen’s face was pure bliss.
Her eyes found mine from her spot on the ground, a soft laugh escaping her.
From the moment I encountered Annie, I knew I wanted her hardness to fade. I wanted to see her open, see her soft. It hit me in that moment when she was teaching a girl no older than fifteen or sixteen how to escape from a hold, I realized there was softness in being hard. When her eyes connected with mine, I felt my heart stop completely like it had escaped my body and was placed directly in her hands to do with whatever she wanted.
Six months didn’t matter.
Cameron didn’t matter.
Hell, I didn’t even matter.
She was the only one who mattered.
* * *
Hector stuck around until I finished with the class and talked with almost every woman to see how they were feeling. He was leaning up against the passenger door of his car, one foot across the other, hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes glued to the door I just walked out of.
He kicked off the car when he caught sight of me. What I wanted to do was run down the stairs and sidewalk and jump into him with a hope that he would never let me go. I settled for strolling toward him, a small smile I couldn’t help but reveal to him. He opened the door for me without a word and I slid in. He pulled out of the parking spot and before pulling out into traffic, his hand grabbed mine and pulled it and me toward him. I exchanged the passenger seat for the one in the middle, not a single part of my body not feeling the heat of him.
We didn’t talk the entire ride home. The only sound were my unsteady breaths caused by being this close to him and his soft humming along to the radio.
The closer we got to the house, the harder my heart beat, the louder my thoughts seemed to ring inside of my head. I snuck looks at him from my spot against his shoulder. Sometimes he would catch me, either with his eyes or giving himself away with the tilt of his lips. The last traffic light before we left the city hit red and I felt his gaze on me. I lifted my head to see his focus entirely on me.
“Kiss me, bonita,” he whispered, his breath fanning across my cheeks.
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I wanted to ravage him, to show him how desperate I was for him. How needy I was. How needy he made me. But he was looking at me in a way he always did and in a way he had never before. He looked at me like he saw me and he was looking at me like he could never get enough of seeing me. My hand that wasn’t in his reached up to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him toward me. His lips parted on an almost inaudible gasp and I took that has my opening. I kissed his top lip, then his bottom, then both of them. His hand tightened in mine which did not help the ache in my lower belly. Our kisses were soft, softer than they had ever been. My lips on his mine, this time, felt different from all of the other times.
This was me giving him more. More than my touch, more than my mind. This time, my heart was in it, too.
Blaring horns snapped me out of my Hector bubble. I started to pull away but he yanked me back to him, sinking his teeth into my bottom lip. I opened my eyes to see him close.
“Las cosas que me haces,” he whispered. Translation: The things you do to me.
I placed one last ghost of a kiss to his lips before resuming my place against his shoulder. When he started to drive again, I let the smile I had been fighting loose. He did something to me, too. Tonight, I was hoping he would do a lot more.
When we got home, Hector started on dinner while I went into his office and started pouring all of the things out on paper that I was too afraid to admit to the man on the other side of the door. The words rushed out of me. My hands were barely capable of writing them down fast enough. I barely registered Hector when he came into the room. It wasn’t until his knuckles lifted my chin that I set my pencil aside.
“Come eat.” I didn’t even have a chance to look at what I had written before I followed him out to eat. He had already had the table set. I sat down while he got us drinks. “What will it be tonight?” he asked over his shoulder.
I had many answers to that question. Answers that I wasn’t sure he was ready for. Answers that I needed liquid courage for. “I’ll take a beer,” I said flippantly, even though I was feeling anything but.
We ate in comfortable silence until he pushed his plate away, leaned back in his seat, and touched his beer to his lips, and waited for me to talk. So, we weren’t going to wait to talk until we were in bed. I rolled my lips to keep from smiling. He was falling straight into my plan without even knowing it.
I took my last bite of rice on my plate and he never took his eyes off of me. I stood and he lifted an eyebrow in question. I walked around the table toward him, his head following my every move. I took the beer out of his hands and allowed myself to take a long pull until I drained the entire thing. I set it down behind me on the table and he had already figured me out because his hands were spread, waiting to wrap around me when I plopped on his lap. I did just that.
I took his chin between my two fingers to distract myself. “Do you remember when you asked me what I studied in school and I…” I paused, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat. His hands gripped my hips in a reassuring squeeze. “Anyway, the answer to that question is social services. I have a bachelor’s degree in social services. I’m not sure if I would have ever used it.” I chanced a look up at him and his eyes that felt like home felt like a caress the way he was looking at me. “If my plans weren’t thrown off balance.” That was close as to saying “because of him” as I could voice at the moment. “I actually was an intern at the women’s shelter the summer before my junior year and I loved it there. Eliza, the poet we saw together, donated all proceedings from her poetry night to the shelter and so, one day I just swung by. Eliza is one of three workers over there. We talked for a long time and Jessica and Rachel are the two people I knew from my internship. They asked me if I had time to volunteer a couple of hours a day. I jumped at the opportunity and now I’m there for a few hours after my shifts at the shooting range.”
We both were quiet for a moment. He reached up and removed my hands from his chin and wrapped them in his. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my temple, my nose, the corner of my lips. For the first time since I met him, I didn’t fight him to be in control. I let him devour me when his lips turned hard against mine. We were both out of breath a few minutes later but I was needier for him than I had ever been.
I let my head fall, my forehead falling against his shoulder. “I’m gonna go shower,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.
“Go ahead, bonita. I’m going to call Samuel and talk to him. I’ll meet you up there.”
The only reason I didn’t run up the stairs was because I didn’t want him knowledgeable of my plan. The plan that consisted of me and him naked under the sheets. Just thinking that had heat washing through my entire body.
Once in the bedroom, I only grabbed one of Hector’s t-shirts before locking myself in the bathroom. I didn’t take one step into the bathroom; instead, I sagged against the door, my heart beating a million miles a minute.
“I love him,” I whispered into the empty room. Only silence met me. I pushed off the door and began stripping off my clothes. With each piece that dropped, I grew braver in admitting my truth. By the time I faced the mirror above the vanity with no clothing left to shred, I smiled so hard that I had to grip my hurting cheeks. “I love him,” I said to my reflection. “I love him more than I thought I could love anything else.”
I turned on my heel and started running my shower water before facing the mirror again. I took out my ponytail, still obsessing about the man downstairs.
I loved his body that was so goddamn breathtaking. So hard, yet so soft when he was holding me. I loved his mind, his beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful mind. More than anything, I loved his heart. I loved his heart for protecting Nolan when they were just kids. I loved his heart for being such a great father to Samuel. I loved his heart for seeing me, seeing something in me that I couldn’t even begin to explain. I loved his heart for whisking me away, and not saving me, but urging me to save myself.
Nerves hit me then. I didn’t know how to do this. How did I please a man who had an entire twelve years on me? He had enough money, power, and looks combined that he could get any woman he wanted. I was inexperienced in life and in the bedroom. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to get control of my nerves. That wasn’t who I was and that wasn’t who he was either. He didn’t want just anyone and I wasn’t just anyone.
“Annie Miller,” I said to my reflection fiercely. “You are great at throwing knives, shooting a gun, and fighting hand to hand. You are going to be great at this, too.” My pep talk was cut short when the mirror fogged up.
I took the quickest shower of my life, afraid I would lose my nerve. After brushing the knots out of my hair, I pulled it up into a loose bun on the top of my head, threw his shirt over my head, and unlocked the door and went to face the music.
Hector was already upstairs, lying in his usual spot, his hands folded over his stomach, eyes glued to the TV. When some steam entered the room behind me, his eyes snapped to mine. But they didn’t stay there for long. His eyes trailed over my body, having never seen so much of it uncovered.
His eyes eventually found mine again. “Annie,” he groaned loudly, one of his palms snapping up and covering most of his face.
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped my lips. I walked over to him, somehow forgetting my vulnerability at his reaction. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hand covering his own on his face and tried to peel it away. He was stronger than me so it shouldn’t have budged, but he let it go and I saw those brown eyes, fire igniting behind them.
“You’re killing me,” he whispered against our connected hands.
Leaning down, ever so slowly, so he could stop me if he wanted to, I covered his lips with my own. His hand squeezed in mine. Our kisses started soft and sweet, but the more my body descended onto him, the harder his mouth pushed against mine. I gasped when his teeth bit into my lip and Hector wasted no time tangling his tongue with mine.
He dominated my tongue.
He dominated me.
His hand left mine, both of his hands wrapping around the back of my neck, crushing my face to his. I moaned into his mouth and his grip got tighter, his tongue wilder. Placing my hands on each side of his head onto the pillow, I readjusted my body so I was straddling him.
His eyes flew open, his t-shirt the only fabric separating our bodies. His brown eyes flickered from my face to my exposed legs, his hands bunching up the sheets beneath us. I inched the shirt up, revealing more of myself to him. He squirmed from underneath me.
“What are you doing to me, bonita?” he whispered, his voice coming out scratchy.
“Making you mine,�
� I told him truthfully, taking his lips again. This kiss was a kiss we had never shared before. We were past desperate, past hungry.
His hands traded the soft fabric of the sheets for the smooth skin of my thighs. His hands wrapped around my skin, dangerously close to where I needed him. His hands moved from my thighs, grazing my ass until his hands spread across my back sending goosebumps down my spine. “Take this off for me, bonita.”
I leaned up, his hands following my body. My hands found the hem of my shirt and before I could even grow anxious about revealing my body to another person for the first time, I whipped off the shirt, threw it somewhere behind me, and plastered myself to his fully clothed body.
“Uh-uh,” he whispered against my skin before placing a kiss at my temple. “You’ve never hidden from me. Don’t start now.”
His words weren’t a demand and they weren’t quite a request. They were a question. He was asking me to trust him in a way I have since the moment he came into my life.
After a deep breath, I placed my hands on his strong chest and raised my body, baring my body for his eyes.
His gaze was a caress, a touch I felt that started from my eyes down to my breasts. A slow perusal that didn’t stop until his eyes landed to where my legs wrapped around him. Then, his gaze wasn’t the only form of his touch.
His fingers trailed over every naked inch of me. The tips of his fingers caressing my shoulders all the way down to my fingertips, then jumping onto my bare stomach, traveling up and then completely stopping when he reached the underside of my breasts. I thrust them into his palms, giving him silent permission, and his hands cupped them before his thumb swiped over the nipple, making the tip harden to the point of pain. I tried to clench my thighs to relieve some pressure but they were on each side of Hector’s hips so I just clenched against his stomach which had him groaning deep in his throat. When I relaxed after a few seconds, two of his fingers wrapped around my nipple and pinched the bud. I yelped, clenching against his stomach again. My eyes flew open, looking down at him.
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