by Vivian Arend
“I know.” She refused to meet his eyes again. “I also wasn’t a very good wife, according to the family. A good wife would have gotten pregnant. I didn’t, not even when he gave me to the other leaders of the family.”
Goddamn bastards. Old men with stupid religious rules that did nothing but hurt the innocent. Becky’s voice had gone monotone, and Trevor’s heart was breaking apart while he burned with fury at mankind’s cruelty and full-out evil.
He’d been so blown away that he’d nearly missed it. “Wait. Gave you to other…?”
A hollow scream echoed in his brain, numbness setting in. He was past fury. Past trying to comprehend. It was too much, and he didn’t want this conversation to continue. Not because he’d heard enough, but because he didn’t want Becky to have to relive any of the indecent things that had been done to her.
Trevor Coleman might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but he knew one thing. Becky deserved far more than what she’d been given. He couldn’t fix it, but he’d be damned if he’d let her ever doubt or worry about her worth again.
Trevor hauled himself off the couch so rapidly it was as if he’d exploded.
Becky had figured what she had to share would upset him, and obviously she’d been right, but the way he stomped across the room away from her, dragging a hand through his hair, spoke of anger and frustration for her, not with her.
He stood with his back to the room, every muscle bunched up tight. Rock solid and granite hard. Out of nowhere, he swung his fist at the wall and smashed it though the drywall, and she shrieked in surprise.
“Trevor. What—?”
He spun on his heels, barely two feet from the couch, breathing hard, eyes gone to ice. “You asked me to get naked for you. I’m going to do it. Right now.”
Becky hauled her jaw back into position. “Um, okay…?”
He stood with legs spread wide, a solid hunk of one hundred percent prime masculinity “I have to say it. You have had one hell of a life, sweetheart. I’m so fucking mad that I can’t change what happened. If I could, I would go back and tear those bastards apart limb from limb, because what they did to you wasn’t right, none of it. For so many reasons.”
His voice was grim. Powerful, begging her to picture him storming into the family hall and causing chaos on her behalf. It was a sweet thought for a few, brief seconds before reality kicked in.
She didn’t want him to get in trouble for her. She didn’t want him anywhere near her past.
Besides, what he’d suggested sounded more interesting and it was here and now. The mere suggestion was amusing. She was tired of crying, and it made more sense to laugh.
Somehow Trevor always said things that made her laugh.
“So instead of ripping people’s arms off, you’re going to strip. I don’t know how your brain works sometimes, Trevor, but I like it.”
He stooped and caught her fingers in his, squeezing them tight. “Yeah, my brain is a special and sparkly unicorn. But what you are is an amazing, gorgeous, unique woman, and any man who couldn’t see that you deserved to be treated with care and respect, they’re fucking not real men.”
“You want to show me what a real man looks like?”
Fire flashed in his eyes. “I guess I do.”
So much emotion churned inside that it threatened to rip her apart as it escaped. Laughter bubbled up, and hope, and an unstoppable thread of rising attraction and passion.
Becky liked the way her day had changed so completely, from bitter memories to something deliciously distracting. She lifted his hand to her mouth, kissing his poor, bruised knuckles. “Don’t let me stop you. I’ve got the best view in the house.”
Trevor stepped back and undid the button on his jeans, lowering the zipper the slightest bit before reaching over his head and grabbing hold of his flannel shirt. He jerked it forward over his head, ripping it from his body.
A harsh move—desperate. As if he were frantic to break free of what he was trapped in as rapidly as possible. He did the same thing to the T-shirt underneath it, staring her in the eyes as he flung the black fabric to one side as if he didn’t care what happened to it.
As if she was the only important thing in the room.
And then he spoke, and her world shuffled three feet to the left, taking a brand new path.
“You’re in charge, Rodeo. Not only today, but I promise you right now that whatever you want, whenever you want, I’m going to give it to you. You want me on my knees next to you planting in the garden? I’m there. You need driving lessons? No problem.”
He didn’t need to offer his truck—she knew that was a given.
“You want me naked? I’m yours. No questions asked.”
It was more than she’d ever dreamed of when this day had begun. “I don’t want you to be anything other than yourself,” she insisted.
His dark eyes flashed again—deep burning fire and tender caring at the same time. “You need to know there’s one man out there who will never take more than you’re willing to give.”
“Oh, Trevor.” She refused to let the tears come. “I’m so glad I met you. I’m so glad I’m free of Paradise and came here to start a new life.”
Becky bolted off the couch and into his arms, throwing herself the final few feet and trusting that he’d catch her.
He was warm and protective and wrapped himself around her as much as she curled herself around him and hung on tight. She had his neck in a chokehold, her legs over his hipbones as he pulled her to him and stood immobile, supporting her like a rock.
Her rock.
Her half-naked rock, with smooth skin that was flaming hot under her fingertips. She took in the scent of him—clean and masculine as she dipped her nose to his shoulder and breathed him in.
He stood there for at least a minute before lowering her feet carefully to the ground. She stayed close, hands stroking the firm muscles of his chest. “I know you said you needed no explanations, but I want to give them.”
“I’m all ears.” His tone wasn’t quite back to normal, but he was trying to lighten up, and she appreciated that.
She planted one hand firmly against his chest, fingers spread wide. The steady thud of his heartbeat connected with her palm, and her own heart skipped a beat. “Whenever they did things to me that weren’t my choice, I shut myself down and pretended it wasn’t real. That I wasn’t really there. That’s how I’ve dealt with life, but it means there’s so much I haven’t gotten to experience. I’ve told you that before, and that’s why this is so amazing.”
She stroked his skin, fingertips trailing gently over his nipple. The flat disk tightened under her touch, his already solid muscles flexing harder.
“Touch me all you want.” He sucked in a gasp as she leaned closer and pressed her lips to his chest. More of his typical amusement had returned to his voice as he continued. “I’ll be your real-life mannequin.”
“You’re my friend,” she corrected in a whisper. “That’s what I need. That’s all I want.”
They were in the eye of the storm. Everything she’d shared in the past moments had turned their relationship upside down and sideways, and they still had more to talk about in the days to come. It wasn’t as if her world had been swept clean in under thirty minutes.
But right now there was only them. Only this intimate, strangely peaceful togetherness.
And like she’d been doing for the past couple months, she ignored the past and looked to the future. Taking life by both hands and riding it as hard as she could.
Although not quite riding it. More like barely containing it. Molding power and strength and iron-will under her fingertips as if she were harnessing a wild stallion.
Trevor stood stock-still while she touched him, and slowly the tension in his body changed. Sliding from fury to raw passion. His eyes no longer held the urge to kill, but desire and arousal.
She stroked her fingertips down the faint trail of hair leading toward the open button on his jeans. Under her care
ss his muscles formed a grid, and she laughed.
It came out rather breathlessly.
“Six-pack, right?”
He curled his hand around the back of her neck and tugged her close again, his hot breath pressing over her cheek. “Kiss me,” he demanded.
She was more than willing to oblige. His mouth settled over hers like a benediction—a blessing for what was about to happen between them. Like her history was scrubbed clean and this was all that remained. Passionate need. Fierce want.
Heat dragged up her spine, melting it rapidly as his tongue stroked into her mouth and he owned her completely.
Trevor had threaded his fingers into the hair at the back of her head, but he cradled her even as they feasted hungrily. Becky’s eyes were closed, hands exploring without the aid of sight.
He twitched as she skimmed her palm lower over his jeans, over the ridge of his thick erection that lay under the taut fabric. He moaned as she scooped farther, both hands going to his butt so she could squeeze the muscle there.
The new position put her up against him, his arousal tight to her belly. It didn’t scare her—the sign of his physical desire. Maybe she was supposed to be more broken, or fearful, but she was tired of being told how she should behave.
She was turned on, and Trevor did that to her. Maybe she’d never been there before because of life and circumstance, but he did it for her. Left her aching, a deep need in her core and a tingling sensation all over her skin that made her want more, not less.
Telling her she was sinful and damned, and whatever the rest of the warnings she’d been threatened with, didn’t make it real. This was real. The heat washing over her as she snuck her hands under his jeans to touch skin.
Trevor jerked them apart—still careful. Still caring.
But even as they dragged in gasps of air, he was ripping off the rest of his clothes until, as promised earlier, he stood fully naked in the evening sunshine streaming into her living room.
She’d seen pictures once of statues without clothes, and the images had never gone away. Yet they weren’t anything nearly as titillating or exciting as the real thing.
Maybe it was terrible, but the first thing curiosity focused her attention on was his erection. It stood upright, dark black hair at the base, and when he wrapped a hand around the thick length and stroked, something inside her went fuzzy with need.
Becky glanced upward to see him smiling. Not cocky and flirtatious, but full-out male pride and pleasure.
“You look like a strutting rooster,” she said, surprised how rough and tight her throat had gone.
“It’s tough to not feel a bit of pride right now. Jeez, Rodeo, you should see your eyes. They’re on fire.”
It made sense—her body was on fire, the rest of her should be too.
All of him was amazing. Lean muscles, firm stomach and backside. She stepped slowly behind him and touched again, unable to resist trailing her fingers over his butt.
“You having fun?” he asked, low and deep. “Anything you—fuck.”
She’d slipped her hand past his hip and over his fingers where he held his erection. “Show me,” she whispered. “Show me how you touch yourself. I want to make you feel good like you did for me the other day.”
It was easier standing behind him, sneaking peeks past his torso as he immediately followed her directions than being out front and having to meet his eyes. At least this time, although she totally expected there to be a second and third go-round in the future, and then she’d see.
Trevor changed the game slightly, letting go and pressing her fingers around him before curling his fingers over hers. Now she was the one stroking skin, heat to her palm, a touch of wetness as he guided her over the top where his seed had gathered.
Becky’s face was pressed to his side, his scent in her head as they stroked together, his breathing picking up in pace.
“Feel that? That’s what you do to me,” he growled. “You touching me, looking at me, kissing me—all of it makes me hard. Beautiful woman. So fucking beautiful.”
She stroked more boldly, his grip surprisingly tight as he taught her, but once he let her take charge she worked him willingly. Bending over so she could watch closer as he brought one hand down to cup his balls. Groaning as she pressed her lips to his side. Her teeth, nipping his hipbone as she eyed what they were doing.
Trevor’s head tilted back and a low moan escaped his lips. A cry of pleasure broke free as he brought his free hand over the top of his shaft, moisture and seed spurting over his fingers, over hers, as she continued to work him.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he gasped, guiding her to move slower. To adjust her grip to let the final pulses escape, his erection still impossibly hard.
A delicious stickiness covered her hand, and an ache pounded between her legs, but she wasn’t in want, she was glad. Satisfied at giving back to this man who’d made her so happy.
Trevor stooped and grabbed his T-shirt. After wiping their hands with it, he kissed her, a wall of male contentment.
His lips curled into a smile and she felt it during the kiss. A moment later a laugh escaped her, sheer joy making her break away to stare at him in amazement.
She shook her head. “You’re beautiful. Thank you for indulging me. Thank you for being so amazing.”
Trevor’s smile shone like a beam of sunshine, or bubbles in a fizzy drink. He stood buck naked in her living room, bold and shameless in all the right ways. “We sparkly unicorns are amazing.”
Quiet hovered—would he turn the conversation back to what she’d shared? In a way, she hoped not. This moment was flawless how it was, and she didn’t need more time spent on bad memories.
Fortunately Trevor was his perfectly wonderful self, stroking her arm slowly as his grin turned wider. “If you want some ice cream for dessert, I should put my clothes back on.”
Becky laughed again then offered his clothes, watching as he pulled on everything but the T-shirt. “Do you mind if we don’t go back to the party?”
“Not at all.” He tucked his fingers under her chin and tilted her head back. “This is a party made for two, and I’m fine sticking around for a while.”
It hadn’t been the day she’d expected—it had ended up so much more. And the reason was very clear.
The man now pacing toward her kitchen to raid her freezer.
Chapter Eighteen
They talked for a long time that night over ice cream. She shared more about Paradise Settlement, and about how her rescuer had taken her home and treated her like a long-lost daughter.
His Uncle Mark—there was no stepping around the connection now—had been the one to help her get the paperwork started to replace her missing ID.
“I didn’t have much,” Becky admitted. “My mom had us girls at home with a midwife, and the church was very insistent it was important to stay off the government records. And with how paranoid they’d become before I left, I don’t plan on ever contacting them.”
Trevor nodded, listening without comment as she shared. He breathed a sigh when she mentioned that during the weeks she’d stayed with him, Mark had found her a doctor to visit—a lady doctor. The woman had not only listened to Becky as she explained her background, her cheeks on fire with shame, the doctor had done all sorts of tests that eventually came back to say Becky was healthy. The doctor also reassured her none of it was her fault, along with suggesting the name of a counselor if Becky ever wanted it.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Trevor agreed vehemently, before praising her rescuer again. “It sounds as if Uncle Mark did everything he could to make a difference.”
“I trusted him, and he saved my life,” Becky said simply. “And he trusted me, I guess, because he wasn’t there the whole time—he was off driving. I think I slept for most of a week. Like my body wanted to restock energy that had been drained away over the years.”
“And he brought you here.”
She heard the question in Trevor’s voice. “He said h
e owned a place he would never use, and that I’d be helping him out by taking care of it. He dropped me off late one night. Barely even stopped in the yard other than to make sure I got into the house safely.”
Trevor shook his head slowly. “You never mentioned him when I was talking about my family.”
“He didn’t want me to talk about him. I felt like I was imposing all over again when I had to bother him again to write a letter to Hope and Matt.”
By the time Trevor left, Becky felt as if a huge weight had been taken off her shoulders, and she fell into bed exhausted, yet relieved. She hadn’t realized how hard it had been on her to keep the secrets she’d been hiding from everyone, including Trevor.
She was glad everything in her past wasn’t common knowledge, but over the coming days as she spent time at work, and with her new friends, it was good to know that whenever Trevor dropped in, he was the one person who knew everything about her and still liked her.
More than liked, she hoped, but she wasn’t going to get ahead of herself. Right now it was enough he was willing to teach her, and while he didn’t make her feel as if she was somehow broken, his care and concern hovered on the right side of a fine line.
She enjoyed having someone looking after her for once in her life.
Hope jabbed her in the arm with an envelope. “You’re daydreaming again,” she teased.
Becky couldn’t stop the heat flushing her cheeks as she accepted the cash. “I’m not the only one,” she said, trying to sound scandalized. “I saw you after that man called earlier today.”
“What man?” Hope pretended innocence. Matt had phoned, and whatever he’d said had left her boss flustered and smiling with secrets.
She replied as deadpan as possible. “The tall, good-looking guy with a beard who forgot I was working here. I’m still blushing from what he said before I could—”