Tough Enough (Tough Love Book 3)

by Trixie More

  “You have to answer this, Doug,” she said, putting a hand on his chest, which turned out to be a mistake because he took that as permission to reach down and grab her by the backs of her thighs and lift her up. She squeaked, unbalanced, clutching at his shoulders, locking her legs around his waist. She was looking down at him. He had his face tipped up toward her as he walked her back against the wall. She landed with a thud, but nothing fell from the walls.

  “Finally found something this place is designed for,” he said, grunting just a bit, a sheen of moisture on his temple. Sophia wasn’t a small woman, but then, he wasn’t a weak man.

  Doug arched his neck up, and she felt the pull like a magnet, leaning down so he could kiss her. The warmth of his mouth opening over hers was like a crack in their argument, a flaw in their thinking, opening up the world to new possibilities. She was going to finish her line of questioning if it killed her. His biceps flexed beneath her fingers, and he lowered her a fraction, before pushing himself deeply between her legs.

  “Feel that?” he asked. How could she not?

  “How can I be sure?” she insisted, trying to keep to the topic.

  Doug licked at her neck, grinding into her center. Between her legs urgency started to build. He pushed her roughly against the wall. Her heart sang. This man, he treated her like an equal, like she wasn’t fragile or beautiful or delicate. He just expected her to be able to take what he gave. She should feel violated or frightened, but she wasn’t scared of him at all. A corner of her mind was working on this puzzle; the rest of the few thoughts she had were trying to keep the specter of Marley raised, front and center.

  “Think, Sophia,” he said. “Look how hard it’s been for you to get me to sleep with you.” He laughed—rat that he was. He made up for it by pulling her legs farther apart, her heels locking tighter around him while he ground into her just there. She bent her elbows and dug her nails into his scalp. The groan she got out of him was deeply gratifying. Still...

  “Put me down.”

  He pressed his face tighter into her neck.

  “Now.”

  Reluctantly, he let her slide down until her feet were on the floor.

  As soon as she was standing, he reclaimed her. Pressing her back against the wall, keeping his forearms flat on either side of her face.

  “Don’t send me away,” he said quietly. He put a small kiss on Sophia’s cheek. “Don’t say you don’t want me.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t shut me out.” A kiss behind her ear. “Hate me, hit me, yell at me, anything. Just don’t walk away.” He was kissing her faster now, leaning into her with force. “I never slept with her, never wanted to.” He was grabbing at her hair, pushing it up and out of his way, her cheek was turned to the wall with the force of his kisses, and he began to work on the back of her neck, then down along her collarbone, his mouth warm, wet, his tongue leaving exquisite trails of sensation. Between her legs, the wonderful aching, the insistent urge almost unbearable.

  “But you...” He grunted and shoved his leg between hers, grinding himself against her hip, the top of his thigh working into her, his chest pressed against hers. She had her palms flat to the wall, and she was writhing now. Oh, O.

  “You, she defends you. Why?” Sophia whispered it to the wall, to the two closed windows, to the pale carpeting.

  Chest expanding with a vast intake of air, Doug wrapped his arms around her and began to walk backward down the hall, taking her with him, kissing her mouth now, eating at her. He broke away enough to pant, “I must have been feeling good, maybe high, maybe drunk...”

  Sophia’s heart clenched. No. She shoved at Doug, and he released her.

  Red blotches marked the top of his pale cheeks. The intensity of his gaze captured her. His chest rose and fell with the force of his breathing, but then again, so did hers. She felt like every nerve ending had a high voltage charge just sparkling at the tip, waiting to ignite the minute he came closer. She stepped back.

  “And she was pregnant,” he said. The word was poisonous to Sophia’s ears, reminding her of everything she was supposed to be and wasn’t. “I gave her some huge check to cover the medical costs and a card that I’d signed, I don’t know. I don’t remember. She told me it made a big difference for her.”

  “You paid for her pregnancy?”

  “Maybe?”

  “Why?”

  He stared at her, his mouth rolling shut, folding over whatever words were pushing themselves forward. He took a step closer.

  She shoved him backward.

  “Tell me.”

  He shook his head. “Who knows. I was high.”

  “Are you high now?”

  His eyes widened. “Are you crazy? I’m fuckin’ blind.”

  “You’re lethal, even blind. I should know.”

  He grimaced and shook his head. “I haven’t been high since...”

  “Since when?”

  “Since...” He lunged at her again, and she side-stepped.

  “Since when?”

  “Fuck!” He made a gesture with his arms and turned away from her. Panic sprung up in her breast. Was he giving up this easily?

  “I wasn’t high when I gave her the money.” His voice was low and grim.

  “You weren’t?”

  He turned his head a fraction, not really looking at her, but Sophia could see his ear, the side of his nose, a narrow glint of an eye.

  “I haven’t been high since the day I...met...Ed Walker.”

  She was tired of waiting for him, tired of dancing around all of it. She said the words.

  “Raped him, you mean?”

  She could see his scowl.

  “Is this where you want to go, Sophia?” His voice was menacing, the tendon on the side of his neck standing out.

  She wasn’t sure when it happened, when she’d gone from fascinated to obsessed, but she wanted to unearth the real man who was Doug Lloyd.

  “I want to go where you are.”

  She wanted to go where he was. What the fuck did that mean? Every muscle in his body was flooded with blood, tight, ready to move, including the one between his legs. He twisted his neck, feeling the tension abate, but the stress rolled right back in. He couldn’t look at her, wouldn’t look at her.

  If he admitted this to her, she would have to report it. That’s who she was. That’s who he loved. What kind of relationship could he ever have with her if this stayed between them to raise the same festering boil it had built in his own soul?

  “So, I still haven’t suffered enough?” Doug threw her own words back at her, but she didn’t cave at the verbal punch.

  “Perhaps not,” Sophia said. Her voice was haughty, and he didn’t suppress a cynical smile. He loved her, and it wasn’t going to be easy. The reality of her, of his feelings, was so much larger than he’d expected. Love was what he felt for Alice, but this feeling? Towered above that.

  “If I tell you no, will you believe me?” He didn’t turn to her, held his breath.

  “No,” she said. He loved her still.

  “If I tell you yes, you will turn me in,” he said.

  Behind him, she sucked in a breath.

  “I could ask you again if you want to do this now,” he said. “But I’m not going to. I’m making this decision.”

  “I asked you a direct question,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction now. Doug turned.

  “I’ll tell you what you want to know, but I won’t do it tonight,” he said. “There’s no good outcome for me.” He stepped close enough that he could see into her eyes.

  “We can’t go forward until you answer me,” she said.

  He shook his head. “No, once I answer, then we can’t go forward.” She started to protest, but he overrode her. “Sophia. If you believe I’m lying to you, if you don’t trust me, then there is nothing more we can do. If you know I’ve committed a crime, you have to turn me in. If you are the only person who knows what happened, you won’t be able to live with it, you’ll have to t
urn me in.”

  “Those can’t be the only two choices,” Sophia said. Her magnificent mind kicked into high gear. She was stunning. “What if we were married?”

  Shock rushed through him, rekindling his anger. “What?”

  She flinched from his roar, making him step back.

  “You don’t...?” she stammered. “I thought...”

  “Sophia!” He was beside himself. “Don’t you dare twist this or manipulate me. There is no world where I marry you before you know the truth. I don’t give a flying fuck about spousal exceptions. I don’t give a flying fuck about the law. I thought you knew that about me. There’s one law. One law. Protect yours. That’s it.”

  “And where do I fit into that?”

  “You’re mine. Don’t you get it? I would never marry you and bring you into...” He didn’t know how to finish that. “There’s no forgiveness for me now, how much worse would it be if I...” Emotion welled inside him, surprising the fuck out of him. There was no way in hell he was going to cry, ever. “No. Absolutely not. What part of protecting mine, protecting us, would include me lying to you?” He advanced on her now, had to get close enough to see her clearly. “Family is loyalty, full stop.”

  Color washed over her cheeks, and she wet her lip. She never broke eye contact, he could tell even if he couldn’t see her clearly. He moved closer to her. He needed to be able to see every nuance of her expression. “I gave Marley a fuckin’ wad of cash because I’m a man apart. I have very few people close to me.” He stared at her, keeping his voice challenging, making sure she knew he was a hard case, not a case for pity. “I make money. It’s what I do. I make lots and lots of money, and I give it to my family.”

  She startled at that.

  “What? Did you think I’d sprung fully formed from a lump of clay? Did you think God was my father?”

  “Don’t say that!”

  “Ah, there, I’ve finally reached blasphemy? Only now? Killing a man wasn’t enough to get me there?” He felt his mouth scowling, his jaw tight. He was so angry and so afraid of losing her.

  “I didn’t ask you to kill him!”

  “Didn’t you? Didn’t you? The minute you went to my lawyer and gave me an alibi, you tied me to you as surely as if you’d summoned me.”

  Her eyes widened. Doug grabbed her by the back of the neck, gently, gently. It wouldn’t do to hurt her, but his fingers were shaking.

  “You don’t owe me for that,” she said, turning her head away, a tear sliding down her face.

  He kissed the trail it made, but he was careful to let it fall. He kissed the soft corner of Sophia’s mouth. Another tear rolled; he felt its wetness on his own cheek. He pressed his face to hers.

  “No, I don’t.” He kissed her again, just closed lips, pressing to her face. “The day you did that, you bound me to you. I can never leave you.” The ice water of reality lapped at the shores of his heart. The relentless tide whispered the truth; he would lose her. He was going to have tonight, but he would lose her. It made prison look like child’s play.

  Her face started to crumple, more tears flowing.

  He wanted to tell her he’d never hurt her, but the lie stuck in his throat.

  “Why did you pay for Karito’s birth?”

  “Because I’m wealthy enough that I can. Because not many people are real with me, and Marley was. Because I can afford to help the very few people that I trust. She was my waitress. My waitress. She needed my help. I gave it.”

  “And me?”

  “You?”

  “What am I?”

  The uncertainty in her voice undid him. He ran his hands up her arms, pulling her closer yet.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “You have a terrible burden.” He nuzzled her neck, working his arms around her, coaxing this goddess, his goddess against him. “Athena.”

  “What?”

  “You’re Athena. You’re wisdom and war, courage and math. You went into battle for me.” There, her body relaxed just a fraction. He pressed his mouth below her ear, trailing up to the delicate lobe, whispering, “I’m loyal to my damn waitress, what do you think I feel for a fellow warrior?” He pressed his aching cock against her softness, he couldn’t resist it, although the physical sensation was nothing compared to the fearsome commitment he’d already formed for her. His words meant something; she turned her face to his and brought her mouth to his, the ferocious woman from the alley simmering there. He knew it, could feel it. This was his opportunity to take her hand and lead her down the hall. He turned his back to her, but he could feel her hand in his. Not looking at her, he could tell her what she meant to him. He reached around the doorjamb, shutting the light. “Again and again, you are willing to face my enemies.”

  He pulled her to the bed and turned to face her, the darkened room making it hard to see her expression. That was fine. His words wouldn’t change, his feelings wouldn’t change. “Tomorrow, I’ll give you my confession, Athena. I would give you my life.”

  She stiffened. “I don’t want that.”

  Doug heard himself say, “Anything I can give is yours.”

  “Don’t,” she said.

  “Don’t what?” he asked. “Don’t love you?”

  “Don’t make me precious, don’t make me needy.”

  Surprise rippled through him. His brain trembled over the sound of her saying needy; it took a moment for him to catch his breath. He ran his hands up to her shoulders. He knew she didn’t mean it that way.

  “You misunderstand,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve found a woman to take care of.”

  “Don’t you?” Sophia sounded bitter.

  “You’re something much better,” he said. “I’ll protect you if I need to,” he put his hand over the beautiful mouth to stop Sophia’s protest. “I haven’t found a woman to put on a pedestal. I’ve found a woman who stands back to back with me.” She let him tug her forward onto the bed with him. “I’ve found a woman of ferocious principles.” He rolled her beneath him. “I’ve found a woman who fights.”

  #IAmToast.

  His words echoed in Sophia’s thoughts. A woman who fights.

  Doug was rolling on top of her, his vitality and conviction daring her to live into his words, to do battle to the little death here on a mattress lying flat on the floor in an empty room and he was everything she shouldn’t want and as perfect as if he’d been molded by fate into exactly her match. Sophia reached up, sliding her arms over his shoulders until her elbows were passed the broad belt of muscle spreading from his neck to his arm, and she folded her forearms up, curving her fingers over the top of his head, sliding them through the soft and prickly hair. In her arms, Doug Lloyd groaned and began exploring her in earnest. She arched her neck, offering it to him, flexing the muscles in her ass, pressing up into him, legs restless. She didn’t try to impress him, didn’t try to give back, instead she luxuriated in his attention.

  “I love when you do that,” he said, although she wasn’t sure just what he meant. She could smell soap on him. The puzzle of his words slipped away from her, and she let it.

  “Mmm,” was all she had to reply with and she arched her back, tightening her arms, holding him to her neck, allowing her hips and legs to slide and writhe in a slow, slow burn.

  His hands slid down her sides; her sweater needed to go but she couldn’t think of how it could happen. Releasing him wasn’t an option. He settled his hands on her ribs and rolled them again, putting her on top, her legs folded back of their own accord, as if it was she who’d been created fully formed, riding this man. His cock was a thick wedge, captured, folded against his belly, his jeans containing the erection. She spread her legs, her athletic tights allowing a delicious and frustrating friction. She flexed against him, slowly, so slowly, her eyelids heavy, watching him through her lashes. In the darkness, light from the hall fell across his cheek, his eyes open, searching for her own.

  As she watched, he closed them, a deep furrow forming between his brows and his upper
lip lifted in a snarl. He was #magnificent and #dangerous and #mine. She petted his face as she continued her slow sliding back and forth. As she ran a finger over his lip, he bit it. Backward, her hips pressed—a long, sliding grind. He sucked the finger into his mouth, warm, wet, letting his teeth be felt, sharp. Forward she slid, curling her back, feeling everything. He slid his hands up her sides and just like that, the sweater was gone, pulled over her head, cool air flowing across her belly. Sitting up straight, she grabbed his soft T-shirt in both hands and tugged. His torso curled, his biceps round and hard as he lifted his arms, gripping the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head. His abdomen, his whole body was hard. She could see a patch of short, ginger hair on the flat plane of his pectorals which were high and tight. His nipples rode small and low on the muscle there, his sides were a lesson in anatomy. His head reappeared, the shirt sailed away behind her, she could see the trim red furring in the deep hollow of an armpit, a vein twisted across his temple, standing out in bias relief.

  She shifted left and right, rubbing herself as Doug splayed his warm hands on her stomach. His good eye squinted, followed the slide of his hands as they slipped over her breasts. He gave a long low moan and rolled her back beneath him, sliding down her body until his mouth waited just above her right nipple. Sophia held her breath and pressed her legs together.

  “Uh, no, no,” he said gently, languidly as he eased a leg between hers. “We go together.”

  She brought her hands to her breasts and unclipped her bra. Doug’s pulse beat in his neck. She could see it highlighted by the yellow light from the far away hall. Everything but Doug was far away now. She eased the sides of the cloth apart, reveled in the feeling of the underwire lifting from her skin, dropping the fabric beside her torso, hardly another thought in her brain. He entwined their fingers and raised her arms up and away, as he lowered, drawing her nipple momentarily into his mouth and releasing it, moving farther down with wet swipes of his tongue tracing the bottoms of her breasts, soothing the chafed area where underwire had been, nuzzling her chest and then returning to suck, the sensation acute, making her gasp. She marshaled the strength to raise up and watch. The sight of his harsh face, the shorn hair, the sheer masculinity of him as he tongued her, flipping the small point back and forth as she watched.