by J. L. Perry
“No, of course not,” she says, taking a step closer to me. “I really like you, Ryan. I like living here. The last few months have been the happiest of my life.”
With the tip of my thumb, I reach up to catch the lone tear that falls from her eye. I may be hurting, but seeing her upset hurts me more. “But?” I say, because there’s always a but.
“I got a text message today.”
“From who?”
“From Wade. Well, at least I think it’s from him.”
“How’s that even possible? He’s locked up.”
“He must’ve gotten out,” she says, shrugging.
My mind starts to race. He’s not even eligible for parole yet. I requested to be notified if and when that happens. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of going back to him.”
“What? No!” she screeches, as her hands come to rest on my waist. “Never.”
“Then why are you thinking about leaving?”
“The text said he’s coming for me. I don’t want to go, but I also don’t want anything to happen to you or Claire. You both mean too much to me.”
“Oh, babe,” I say, pulling her into my arms. I’m confused when I hear her muffled giggle against my chest. “What?”
She tilts her face back and smiles up at me. “You called me babe.”
I hadn’t even realised I’d said it. “And there’s a problem with that?”
“Not at all,” she says as a smile bursts onto her face.
Fuck, I love her smile. Well, there’s actually so much I love about her. These feelings I have are real—stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before, which is crazy. I haven’t even kissed her yet. I’ve wanted to—fuck, how I’ve I wanted to—but I don’t want to rush her. She’s been through so much lately, and the last thing I want to do is scare her off or put her in a position that makes her feel uncomfortable.
Reaching up, I brush some of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. “Please don’t leave.” My plea sounds desperate, but in this moment I don’t care. I don’t want her to go.
Her eyes lock with mine briefly, before her gaze flickers down to my lips. When her pretty green eyes meet mine again, there’s a look of wanting within them. Kissing her is something I want so badly in this moment—so fucking bad—but again I chicken out, deciding to place my lips on her forehead instead.
I hear her sigh, and I know exactly how she’s feeling. We’ve been teetering on the edge for weeks now. I’ve always been the type of guy who goes after what he wants, but with Morgan it’s different. I need to tread lightly. Although she’s come so far, I’m still not sure if she’s ready for a physical relationship.
My mother never moved on after my stepfather. She seemed content to focus on bringing me up, and then threw herself into the B&B. I’m not even certain if it was her scars from the past that stopped her from pursuing another relationship. All I know is I haven’t seen her with another man since the day we fled. It’s not like she never had the opportunity. I remember Dave from the butcher shop had a thing for her; any fool could see it. It was the talk of the town for years. He always saved his biggest and best cuts for her, and I’m pretty sure she’s the only one who had her meat delivered to her door. He wasn’t the only man in town who showed an interest in her either, but she just seemed detached from the idea of another relationship. I can’t really blame her, but there’s a part of me that always hoped she’d find someone else, someone who would treat her right. Someone to give her the happiness she deserved.
When I remove my lips from Morgan’s forehead, she drops her face and focusses on the timber slats beneath her feet. “What if he turns up here, Ryan?”
“It will be the biggest mistake of his life.” When I hear her sigh, I tighten my grip on her. “We’ll deal with that if and when it happens. I promised you I wouldn’t let him touch you again, and I meant it.”
“What if he hurts you? Or your mother? I couldn’t bear that.”
“I can handle myself.” I continue to hold her for a little while longer before reluctantly letting go. “Would you mind if I borrowed your phone for a few hours? I want to do a little investigating.”
“Sure.” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Sometimes I wish I knew what she was thinking.
“Tell Mum I said thanks for dinner. I’m going to head to the station and see what I can find out.” Leaning forward, I place a soft kiss on her hair. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out. I need to taste those luscious full lips of hers.
I’m jolted from my sleep just as Wade’s hands reach for my throat. My dream started out so nice. Ryan was just about to kiss me, finally, but things took a turn for the worse as his face suddenly morphed into Wade’s. It’s been weeks since I’ve had a nightmare about him, and it’s safe to say I haven’t missed them.
I take a few deep breaths, trying to get some air into my lungs. I know I’m on the verge of a panic attack, so I rise from the bed, heading to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face.
My hands are still trembling as I turn on the tap. Eyeing my ghostly complexion in the mirror, I notice the hair that frames my face is now glued to my forehead with perspiration. It’s moments like this that remind me just how damaged I’ve become. It’s only been a few months since I fled, but the terror I feel after these dreams brings all the horrors back to the surface.
Last week, two guys were arguing outside the café about a car space. It was nothing major, but the screaming and the possibility of violence almost brought me to my knees. Once upon a time, something like that wouldn’t have affected me in that way, but now it seems any situation that remotely resembles my old life brings all the panic and fear back to the forefront. The scars on the outside only took a few weeks to heal, but it’s the ones on the inside that worry me the most. That thought is very sobering.
Taking a few steps backwards, I sit on the edge of the bathtub, cradling my head in my hands. I fight back the tears as the realisation sinks in. Will I ever be free of him?
I’m not sure how long I sit there, but I eventually pull myself together long enough to leave the bathroom. I walk straight past my bed though, and out into the hall. I’m trying hard to remain strong, but the truth is I’m too scared to go back to sleep. I don’t want to think about Wade, and I certainly don’t want to dream about him.
There’s a tiny bit of light shining through the glass panel on the front door as I tiptoe down the stairs. The last thing I want to do is wake Claire. After helping her clean up from dinner, I went straight to my room. She’s not stupid. She knows something is going on, but until I get some answers from Ryan, about Wade’s incarceration status, I’m not saying anything. The last thing I want to do is worry her unnecessarily.
The old floorboards creak underfoot as I head down the long hall towards the kitchen at the back of the house. I was hoping to have heard something—anything!—from Ryan before I went to bed, but that didn’t happen. I can’t even message him because he has my phone.
I make my way towards the fridge. Maybe a warm glass of milk will help me get back to sleep. It’s times like these when I wish I were a drinker, so I could knock myself out with a bottle of scotch. I’ve had a glass of wine or two on occasion, but I don’t really like how it tastes. Plus, I hate not being in control of myself. Wade was even more vicious than usual once he had a few beers under his belt.
Reaching into the fridge, I grab the milk. Just as I do, the light in the kitchen comes on, scaring the life out of me. My first thought is Wade. He’s here! Dropping the milk carton, I swing around. Although my body has gone numb, I can feel the cold milk as it pools around my feet.
I blink my eyes a few times, trying to adjust them to the bright light.
“Jesus, Morgan!” I remain frozen to the spot as he leans forward and lowers the gun he’s holding, placing it carefully down on the table.
I’m pretty sure by now my mouth is gaped open as I take in the sight of a shirtless Ryan, as he stands in t
he doorway. His body is even more beautiful than I imagined. His perfectly sculpted abs, and that delicious defined ‘V’ protruding from his low-riding sweatpants. I probably should be shaken by the fact that there was a gun trained on me, but I’m not. I’m actually kind of turned on, which probably sounds weird.
Before I even get a chance to react, he’s in front of me, wrapping me in his big strong arms—his big strong bare arms. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were … Never mind. Are you okay?”
My flattened palms splay out against his strong back as the side of my face comes to rest on his muscular chest. His skin is so smooth and warm. God, he feels and smells delicious, which only seems to heighten my raging libido. I inhale a sharp breath, taking in the manly, yet spicy scent of his cologne. I lost all interest in sex when I was with Wade, but over the past few weeks I’ve thought about it a lot. This man has turned me into a sex-crazed nympho. I bet things would be different with Ryan. He’s so caring and gentle towards me.
He lets go of me, cradling my face in his hands. There’s concern visible in his beautiful blue eyes as they scan my face. I almost lie and tell him I’m not okay, just so he’ll hold me again. But I can’t do that. “I’m fine,” I reply. “Honestly.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. When the light went on, I was a little scared, but then I turned around and saw it was only you.”
“But I was aiming a gun at you.”
“So? I knew you weren’t going to shoot me.”
“Never,” he says, wrapping me safely in his arms again. I can’t help but smile as I take another sneaky whiff. God, I could drown in his scent. “I’d never intentionally hurt you, Morgan. I hope you believe that.”
His words make my smile widen. I believe him. I love that despite everything that I’ve been through, I can trust him. It’s something I never thought I’d be able to do again.
Disappointment floods me when he releases me again. I’d stay in the safety of his embrace forever if he’d let me. His face turns serious as he looks down at me. “Why were you sneaking around in the dark?”
“I wasn’t sneaking. I, umm … had a bad dream and came down to get a glass on warm milk.” That reminds me. I look down at my feet. “Shit.” I rush over to the sink, grabbing the roll of paper towel off the benchtop.
“Let me help you with that,” he says, taking it out of my hand. He makes quick work of the spill, while I pick up the carton and place it in the sink. “Your feet.”
Look down, I see the small puddles of milk that my feet have left on the floor.
Standing to full height, he grabs some more paper towel, then makes his way towards me. “Lift your feet?”
“Thank you,” I say as he crouches down in front of me, gently wiping the bottom of each foot. “Ryan?”
“Yes,” he answers as his eyes move up to meet mine.
“Did you find out anything about Wade?” I was almost too scared to ask, but I need to know.
“He’s still locked up.”
My brow furrows as I try to make sense of that. “How did he send me that text then?”
“He didn’t.”
“What?” Now I’m really confused.
“We had one of the prison guards search his cell just in case, but they came up with nothing. His reports say he’s been a model prisoner.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. He’s always been a Jekyll and Hyde.”
He lowers his gaze again, focusing on my feet and wiping the milk from between each toe. It tickles. “We’ve put a trace out on the phone the text was sent from, but it could take a few days until we get that information. That’s why I’m here. I thought I’d spend the night on Mum’s couch, just to be on the safe side. I’m not taking any chances where you’re concerned.”
Just being near him makes me feel safer.
Moments later I hear a funny noise come from the back of his throat. It sounds a little like a growl. I see his eyes slowly travel up my legs. The look on his face is hot, and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. However, by the time his gaze meets mine, there’s a frown forming across his forehead.
“What?” I ask.
“You shouldn’t wear such short shorts around the house.”
“Says the half-naked man who doesn’t even live here.”
He chuckles briefly as he stands. “What if Mum had strangers staying here? I don’t want them seeing my girl dressed like that.”
“Your girl?” His words have my cheeks heating up.
I see a smile play on his lips as he tosses the scrunched up paper towel in the sink, before nervously running his fingers through his thick black hair. He clears his throat as his lowers his face. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For being so presumptuous.” His eyes finally meet mine again. “I know technically you’re not my girl, but ….”
My heart starts to beat a little bit faster as I wait for him to finish his sentence, but he doesn’t. “But what?”
“But one day, you know, when you’re ready, I’d like that.”
I’ve never seen this shy side of him before. It’s very endearing. I take a step towards him as the corners of my lips turn up into a smile. I’d love to be his girl. I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for that to happen. “I’d like that too,” I say, sliding my arms around his waist. I get the feeling he’s been holding off because he thinks I’m not ready. Maybe I need to show him that I am.
“Morgan.” He inhales a sharp breath as he speaks.
“Kiss me, Ryan.” His eyes bore into mine, and I can clearly see the uncertainty in them. I’m not usually one to make the first move, but I need him to kiss me. In this moment it feels like my whole life depends on it. I push up on the tip of my toes, inching my mouth closer to his. “Please!”
I can already feel my cock hardening in my pants, and as much as I try to will it down, there’s no use. I feel like I’ve been walking around with a permanent hard-on for weeks now. She’s been all I think about. She’s even been haunting my dreams.
“Morgan,” I whisper, as my hands rise to cup her pretty face. I hear her intake a sharp breath as I tilt her head back slightly before brushing my lips against hers. They’re just as soft as I knew they would be, and one taste isn’t enough.
I brush my lips against hers once more, before trailing tiny kisses across her jawline and down her neck. “Ryan,” she moans softly, making my cock throb. I’ve thought about this moment for so long. I want … no, I need her more than I need my next breath. I’m so lost in the moment I’m not even thinking straight as I effortlessly lift her onto the edge of the kitchen benchtop and stand between her legs.
I sink my hands into her hair, as my mouth moves back to hers, deepening the kiss. This time I’m not so gentle. I’m like a parched man as my mouth ravages hers. God, this woman drives me crazy. I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I want her. I’m consumed.
I’m taken aback when Morgan wraps her legs around my waist, thrusting her heat against my throbbing erection. We’re still clothed, but I’m already on the edge.
Without breaking the kiss, I pick her up off the benchtop and carry her into the main room. I gently place her down on the couch where I’d been lying earlier. She smiles at me as I lie down on top of her and capture her lips once more.
Her legs are still wrapped tightly around my waist, and I’m well aware that there’s only a few thin pieces of fabric separating us. I lift my body slightly before rolling my hips into her, which causes her to moan into my mouth again. I’m so turned on right now I feel like I’m going to come in my pants.
My fingers glide down one side of her lean leg until I’m cupping her arse cheek in my hand. God, it’s so firm, so tight. I give it a squeeze before moving my hand underneath her pyjama top. Our kissing turns wild as our tongues start to wrestle together. Although our bodies are pressed hard against one another, I feel like I can’t get close enough. I roll my hips into her once more as my thumb glides gently ove
r her plump erect nipple. A small whimper falls from her lips, and as hot as fuck as that sound is, reality seeps in. She deserves so much better than this.
“I need you, Ryan,” she whispers into my mouth. I need her too. On any other occasion I wouldn’t hesitate to take this all the way, but this time it’s different. This time it’s with Morgan. I don’t want our first time to be here, on my mother’s couch. She deserves so much more than that, and I promised myself if I ever had the chance to be intimate with her, I’d make it special. She deserves nothing less.
Pulling out of the kiss, I draw back. Her lips are red and a little swollen from our kissing, and it makes me smile. I’d wanted to kiss her for so long, and it was everything I expected and more.
She smiles up at me as her hands thread into my hair. “Kiss me again,” she pleads.
Instead of giving her want she wants, I roll off her. My resolve is slipping by the second, and I need to get my shit together. I nestle in beside her, pulling her body into mine.
There is confusion on her face as I brush her hair from her forehead. “I want this so much,” I say with tenderness in my voice. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. “But not here. You deserve better.”
“We can go up to my room.” I see the hope in her eyes as she speaks, and it tugs at my heart.
“With my mum sleeping down the hall?” I hate the disappointment I see on her face. She’s been let down her entire life and I want to be the one person she can always count on.
“I was hoping for a distraction,” she says, and that just makes me feel shittier.
“This,” I say, gesturing my hand between us, “is going to happen. Just not here. Not now.” Leaning forward, I place a soft kiss on her nose. “I haven’t even taken you out on a date yet.”
“We go out together all the time.”