by Frost, Sosie
And I accepted it all. Every part of him. The light and the dark. The good and the bad.
The darkness he wanted to forget.
The life he never believed he’d have.
I came for him.
Beautiful, crushing, mind-rending pleasure stole my breath. That amazed crest thundered through me again and again, wrenching my body in near agony against him. Tidus held me close, letting me bury my face in his neck as I battled tears and frustration, relief and unimagined pleasure.
Tidus kissed me. “Fuck it. Honey, I’m yours. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”
I wished for only one gift.
“Come for me,” I whispered.
His satisfaction nearly destroyed him. He gripped my hips and slammed completely inside of me. He tensed. Groaned. Filled me with a blisteringly hot jet of desire.
It wasn’t enough.
Tidus thrust again and again, and I wrapped my legs around his waist to accept every part him that he so hated to give. Not just his excitement and seed. His failures and his fears. His dark past and his lost potential.
But I gave him so much more.
A future.
A chance.
A single hope that he would look in the mirror and see the same man I saw, staring at me in the darkness.
But I was too afraid to let him go. I pulled him onto my chest and held him tight as his movements slowed and breathing steadied.
We both went still, more terrified about what the night would whisper than what thoughts raced through our minds.
And so he didn’t roll away. Didn’t let go. Didn’t release me.
He thrust once more, his cock still hard and fierce. His strokes buried in me slow and savored the mess, the heat, and the desire that bound us together.
“You’re mine tonight, Honey.” His words burned through me. “You’re mine tonight.”
It was the first time he’d lied to me.
Because I was his forever.
11
Tidus
Never had a woman stay in my bed after a week of fucking.
And I never had a woman waiting for me to return home at night.
Sure as hell never had a woman get pissed at me because I took off without telling her.
I’d left for Ironfield without informing Honey. It’d been so long since anyone gave a damn about me, figured no one would miss me if I left.
Fuck me. I was wrong.
I returned to the garage at seven in the morning. Unfortunately, Honey had been making brisket since midnight. She leapt out of her truck as soon as she saw me.
“Tidus!” She pocketed her phone and dove into my arms. “Where have you been? I was worried sick!”
Worried.
I was good at making people worry. Even better at pissing them off. Hated that I’d done both to her.
But she seemed to do fine without me.
Her truck had vomited equipment, food, and catering carafes, strewing the mess from the parking lot and through a once empty bay. Her smoker puffed clean, nearly transparent smoke across the property. She’d set a chair out to monitor the cooking, but I’d doubted she’d sat that sweet ass down long enough to enjoy it.
Honey had two modes—fucking and working.
I could add worrying to the list now.
“Don’t tell me you waited for me to come home for dinner,” I said.
“Dinner, bed, and breakfast.” She crossed her arms. “You didn’t call me. Didn’t answer your phone. I’ve been up all night wondering where the hell you went.”
Christ. “I’m…not used to telling anyone where I’m going.”
It was a piss-poor excuse. I knew it. Honey knew it.
“Well, get used to it.” She poked my chest. “You’ll be lucky if I let you eat scraps this afternoon.”
I hadn’t slept all night, and Honey often talked too fast. It took me a long minute before I realized what the hell she meant.
“Shit,” I said. “You have a catering gig.”
“You said you’d tow the truck out to the party.” She sighed. “What happened to you last night? Where did you go?”
The exhaustion set in. So did the hunger. Hadn’t had anything to eat for hours, and I hadn’t tasted this woman for far too long. I pulled her close and silenced her questions with a kiss.
The things this woman did to me.
The things this woman could make me do.
Fuck. I’d thought my old lifestyle would kill me. All it really took was a single touch from a perfect woman.
“Did you go to bed?” I asked.
Honey shrugged. “Felt weird in your bed without you.”
I knew why. It’d taken forever to get her between the sheets, and, once I’d succeeded, it wasn’t like we’d done much sleeping. A couple had to rest before they picked a preferred side. Hitting the mattress exhausted us.
“Feel free next time,” I said. “Bed is yours.”
“Hopefully there won’t be a next time.” Honey gently threaded her fingers into my shirt. “Decided I don’t like sleeping alone.”
“Not sure I’m any help there.”
“Even the baddest of the bad boys needs to rest.”
I smirked. “That a challenge?”
“Would’ve been last night. I had to keep checking the fire in the smoker every couple hours. Wished I had someone to entertain me.”
Fuck. I always had rotten luck. “What did you do to keep yourself amused?”
“Oh…I know how to have fun without you.”
My cock hardened at the thought. “How much fun are we talking here?”
“Well…I didn’t miss you that much…but I am relieved you’re back.” She pouted. “Tell me you weren’t off getting into trouble.”
“You’re the only reason I’m staying out of it.” I kissed her, letting my lips nibble down her neck. “You’re the reason I get into more.”
“Don’t blame it all on me.”
“I’m gonna blame it on these lips.” I kissed her. “And this body.” My hands tickled over her sides. “Blame it on that tight little slit you’ve been keeping wet for me…”
“You’re awfully presumptuous,” she said.
Only when I was right. “Don’t think I can turn you off now that I switched you on, good girl.”
She giggled and squirmed in my arms, but I wasn’t laughing. My cock throbbed, punishing me for every goddamned second I wasted away from her, beyond her touch, separated from her heat.
I’d never came home to a smile before. Never had a beautiful, uncomplicated woman so eager to hug, snuggle, tease me either. A man would be a fool not to take advantage of it.
Of her.
I took her hand, tugging her into the garage’s office. The door slammed behind us, but Honey wagged a sassy finger.
“You were out all night,” she said.
I grinned. “Did you miss me?”
“I didn’t know what happened to you.”
Guilt kicked me right in the balls. Wasn’t a great aphrodisiac.
I brought her hand to my lips, kissing her fingers. Honey was better off finding someone who could give her stability, dependability, and every comfort she’d ever desired. Someone who fit in her truck and could tell the difference between a shoulder and chuck roast.
But I was a selfish man. A desperate man.
A man hopelessly addicted to her touch.
“So, you were thinking about me all night,” I said.
Honey was too sweet for her own good. “Wanna know a secret?”
“Hit me.”
“I’m always thinking about you.”
Christ, she’d end me. “Good thoughts?”
She shook her head with a sly smile. “Very bad thoughts.”
“I’m a terrible influence on you.”
“On me. In me. Behind me.”
And here I thought her food was spicy. The sauces had nothing on the firecracker doing the cooking. The woman was insatiable, couldn’t get enough of me. Every t
ime I fucked her, she’d rolled over only to beg for more. And I gave it to her. Over the past week, I’d hardly recovered before getting lost in her tightness once more.
Honey was pure warmth. Soft and comforting. Sweet and so eager to please.
And I’d fucked her until everything that wasn’t our sweaty, messy, perfect sex faded away. The dirtier, the better. The rougher, the more she liked it. The harder I took her, the easier it was to forget that the world could be so cruel as to tease me with the promise of a woman like her.
No one would ever claim I was a respectable, responsible man, but at least I could embrace my instincts while buried inside of her. It was better for me to be a rutting, ravenous animal than to pretend to be worth her kindness.
I had no idea what she expected or why she’d fallen for me, but I planned on keeping her close.
Hell, I wasn’t strong enough to push her away.
I kissed her, loving her desperate whimper. Her hands tangled in mine as we both struggled with the button of her pants. The girl was always ready to go, always eager for me to taste, tease, and tempt. My cock throbbed against the rough denim of my jeans. I wrenched it free, ripping at her pants with a growl. I’d been away from her for too long, and the lust clawed my last shred of patience.
No addiction had ever been so cruel as the torment of those few precious seconds of separation before I could plunge into this woman.
I didn’t get the chance.
A piercing, eye-twitching alarm blared from the garage. Honey hopped off the desk in a panic.
“Just the smoke detector…” I reached for her again. Screw the jeans. I’d rip the denim off with my teeth. “Get on that desk—”
Honey bolted for the door, slamming through me so fast I nearly landed on my ass.
“Oh God! Do you smell that? My food!”
Shit.
Honey sprinted through the garage and into the parking lot. I followed, checking the corner for an old fire extinguisher buried under five years of cobwebs and grease. Probably didn’t need it. No flames leapt out of the garage, but a thick, black smoke billowed from Honey’s equipment.
Honey coughed, rushing headfirst into the plume.
I didn’t have to follow her outside. I’d already guessed what the fuck had happened.
Didn’t know where he came from or how long he’d been hiding in the garage, but Spencer raced around me and sputtered frantic apologies. Hard to take the kid seriously when he had a piece of plywood in one hand and a container of lighter fluid in the other.
Christ. He was lucky he hadn’t blown his damned head off.
“It was an accident!” Spencer shouted. “I swear! I don’t know what went wrong!”
“Back away…” I pointed towards Honey. “You too. Get away from it.”
The smoker belched a thick, greasy cloud of acrid bitterness. I lifted the lid and leapt away as the angry blackness billowed towards the ceiling. Honey rushed behind me, struggling to close the ventilation to her equipment, but the damage was done.
With a trembling lip, she crumpled to the gravel in front of the smoker.
Utterly demoralized.
Spencer and I both panicked. His voice shrilled, and he grabbed my arm, yanking to get my attention as my eyes trained solely on the beautiful woman brought to tears by ruined food.
“Uncle Tidus! I didn’t mean to do it! Something went wrong!”
“Yeah…” I ripped the lighter fluid out of his hand. “You almost caused an explosion. You’re gonna kill someone. Where the hell did you get that wood?”
Spencer pointed to the corner of the garage. “I found it over there. The flames were dying. I just wanted…I wanted…”
Honey covered her eyes. I hoped it was to keep the irritating smoke from bothering her, but those tears weren’t from the dirty fire.
“Spence, Honey’s gotta use a specific wood in her smoker. Cherry or hickory or whatever. It’s important she only uses her wood.” I turned the scrap wood over in my hand. “And not anything coated in paint or varnish.”
Honey stared at the smoker. I’d never seen a woman go through such extremes so quick. One minute, she was a little minx, begging for attention. Now? She’d gone limp. Pulled apart easier than her pork.
She tried not to cry. Failed. But Spencer and I were smart enough to stay quiet.
“It’s all ruined…” Honey suppressed a hiccup. “I only have three hours before the catering gig. I can’t make anything else…”
I asked a stupid question. “Can you save any of it?”
“…No. Not with the lighter fluid and whatever was on the wood.” She swallowed, hard. “It’s gone. I’ll have to cancel. Forfeit the deposit. God, this was going to pay for a lot of the truck’s repairs. And now…?”
Honey’s shoulders shook with a silent sob. That set Spencer off. With a frustrated shout, the boy braced to run.
Jesus Christ.
What the fuck was I supposed to do?
I had no idea how to fix this. How to comfort her. Hell, I was usually the cause of everyone’s stress, not the one people depended on to help.
Now I had two people freaking out, and not a goddamned clue how to fix either of them.
But it was easier to deal with the little shit than with Honey.
I caught Spencer before he made it past the truck. Good thing too. The kid had a knack for getting into trouble, especially when he’d already fucked everything up.
It felt like looking into a mirror that showed me twenty years younger. Spencer was a boy who overcame remorse with his fists and used pain to deal with misery. The last thing I needed was Honey panicking over her ruined food and Spencer getting into a fight with the first person he saw—kid or adult.
Or hurting himself.
But he was better than I was at his age. More noble. Still had a chance.
I spun his ass around and pushed him deeper into the garage, away from Honey or anyone else who might have spotted the tears on his cheek. Not that I’d ever rat him out. He rubbed his eyes and nose on his sleeve and glared at me, as if daring me to call out the sniffling.
Not that it mattered. Within seconds he bawled.
Tears streamed down his face. He forced himself free from me only to kick a paint can. A full paint can. A bright crimson stain splattered over my concrete floor. That only pissed him off more. Spencer kicked it again and again, ruining his shoes, jeans, and half of my garage.
With a frustrated screech, he pitched it into a wall.
“You done?” I asked.
“I just wanted to help!” Spencer’s words caught in his throat, that prepubescent squeal of rage that sounded as helpless as he must’ve felt. “Now I’ve ruined everything. Honey hates me. You hate me.”
“Never heard anything so stupid in my life.” I pointed to a nearby folding chair. “Sit down before you hurt yourself.”
“I deserve to hurt!”
Christ. “No. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Calm the fuck down. It’s gonna be fine.”
Spencer didn’t know what to do with his hands. He tugged at a shirt. Something old. Looked like a hand-me-down he’d found on the farm. Made sense. Wasn’t like his mom ever sent money.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Tidus. I didn’t mean to ruin it. I didn’t know. The fire was low…and…and you were in the office...I thought I could help and surprise you. You know. Get the flames going.”
“It’s called a smoker, kid. Fire is bad. You only want smoke.”
More tears. Great. I knew I was bad at this shit. I didn’t need to traumatize a boy to prove it.
Spencer slapped his own face, holding it between his hands. “I told you. I’m so stupid. I just wanted to show her I was sorry for what happened at the church picnic. She was so sad, and I screwed it all up!”
The poor kid. “It’s fine. If you wanna help, you can help. You just gotta ask first.”
He shook his head so hard his teeth clattered. “No. I’m never gonna do anything to help again. Ever
.”
“Never?”
“Why should I?” His voice hardened—too dark and miserable for an eleven-year-old. “Everyone is right. I’m a fuck-up.”
“Shut up,” I said. “And don’t use that language.”
“Why not? I know I am.”
I ran a hand through my hair. This wasn’t going well. Why was I the only one who could see the truth through all this bullshit?
“Spencer, for Christ’s sake,” I said. “You said you were trying to help.”
He sniffled. “Yeah.”
“When I was your age, I never thought about helping people. It never even crossed my mind that I might want to do something for someone else.”
“So?”
Did I have to spell it out? “So, that means you’re not a bad kid. Stop thinking it.”
But his blue eyes still filled with thick tears. “It’s not true. I screw everything up. All the time.”
“Everyone does. Hell, I’ve never done anything right in my life.” I sighed, pulling a chair next to his. “Look, when I was your age, I did everything wrong, even when I was trying to do good by people. Maybe I wanted to give my mom a gift—but I stole it from the store. Maybe my little brother had a rough time at school—so I beat up the bastards getting them in trouble. Anytime I tried to help my old man on the farm, I ended up breaking something or losing a tool or making such a mess I’d get my ass beat. Everything I did, I made worse.”
Spencer quieted. “So, what did you do?”
The worst possible thing. “I stopped trying. And that is something you should never do.”
“Why?”
“Because if you want to help someone, your heart is in the right place, no matter how it turns out. Don’t let a mistake ever scare you away from being the man you want to be. You got plenty of time to make mistakes, but you got even more time to make them right. You hear me?”
Spencer nodded, but his voice lowered. “Even you couldn’t be as bad as me.”
“No. I was worse.”
Was still worse.
“What’s the worst thing you’ve done?”
I rubbed my face, wishing I hadn’t glanced outside. Honey worked over the smoker, retrieving the ruined food from within. She moved quick, tossing the remnants into a garbage can without looking. Probably couldn’t handle counting the money she’d lost today.
