by K. C. Lynn
At home we decide to watch a movie together before bed. Not surprisingly, she chooses Brave. She even goes so far as wearing the Merida nightie she owns and jumps around the living room with her bow and arrow, acting out all the scenes. It amuses the hell out of me, especially since she’s holding the plastic weapon completely wrong.
“Come here,” I say, calling her over.
She hops from the loveseat onto the floor and walks over to me. I pull her in-between my legs and lift her arms, showing her how to hold it properly. Next, I turn her to face a bare wall.
“Pull back and make sure your elbow is in line with your shoulder.” I help her since her arm shakes as she tries to keep it straight. “Now pick a spot on the wall you want to hit.”
Remaining silent, she does as I say.
“Do you see your target?” I ask.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now don’t take your eyes off that spot. I want you to watch it closely. Concentrate. Keep your breathing slow and even. You’ll know when the time is right to release.”
Silence fills the air as she does exactly what I say, and I see the moment she finds her concentration. Her arm stops shaking and her shoulders barely move with her breaths. When she releases, the rubber dart sails straight through the air and sticks to the wall.
“I hit it!” she squeals. “I really hit it!” She turns to face me, beaming with pride, but it doesn’t even come close to matching the feeling in my chest.
The kid is a damn natural.
“I want to do it again.” She runs over and rips the dart off the wall before coming back to stand in front of me.
Instead of watching the rest of the movie, we practice shooting, and for the first time, I feel like I am able to be apart of a vital moment in her life. I’ve missed so many firsts in her life but this one I was lucky enough to teach her. I vow to be a part of every other first she ever has.
When it’s past her bedtime we move upstairs into her room and sort through all her stuffed animals. It ends up taking us an hour by the time we have all the little fuckers lined up exactly how she wants them.
When I pull back her blankets for her to crawl in she hesitates, peering up at me. “Will you lay with me for a while? I don’t want to say good night to you yet.”
I’m thankful for the request because, truthfully, I’m not ready to leave her either. “Yeah. I’ll stay.” Carefully, I climb on top of the covers while she slides under them. The bed squeaks beneath my weight and I pray like hell we both don’t plummet to the floor.
It takes a minute to get situated but eventually I find a position that works, and thankfully the bed remains on its rails.
She moves in closer to me, draping her small arm over my waist and resting her head on my chest. It’s easy, natural even, and the best feeling in the whole world.
This is what I want. To hold her every night until she falls asleep, protecting her the way I’m meant to. I stare down at the top of her head, the scent of her shampoo and innocence filling my chest, seeping right into my black heart.
“Thanks for showing me how to shoot my arrow,” she says, letting out a yawn.
“You’re welcome. One day we’ll use a real one but we will have to ease your mom into it.” I’m unable to hide my smirk, knowing damn well Ryanne will have a fit about that.
“We definitely have to ease Mama into it. She doesn’t like any kind of violence. She even thinks Brave has too much of it.”
I grunt, not the least bit surprised to hear that. “People fear the things they don’t understand.”
“Are you saying Mama is afraid?”
“No. I’m just saying she doesn’t understand. She looks at it differently than I do but that’s because of my job.”
“Do you like shooting guns?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly.
“Why?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I like the power I hold, the control I feel when I’m behind one. There’s no being reckless. You have to be precise and confident.”
“Kind of like how I was with my bow and arrow?”
“Exactly like that, but my job isn’t just about shooting guns.”
“What else is it about?” she asks, intrigued.
“It’s about eliminating threats and keeping the world safe.”
She’s quiet for a long moment and I start to think I bored her to sleep until she speaks again, her voice quiet. “Mama was right.”
“About what?”
“You really are a hero.”
Something shifts within to know Ryanne said that about me. “Nah. There are a lot of people out there who do what I do.”
Not as good as my brothers and I, but I keep that to myself.
“You’re my hero.” My chest expands as I inhale, her whispered words reaching places that have never been touched before. One day I can only hope to be worthy of them because until my very last breath, I will fight for her.
She tilts her head to look up at me. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything,” I say then clear my throat when I hear how gruff I sound.
“Promise you won’t tell Mama?”
I nod, my curiosity piquing.
“I’m glad you’re here. Not only for me but for Mama, too. She acts brave but I hear her when she cries at night. When she thinks she’s alone and I’m asleep. I don’t want her to be lonely and cry anymore.” The sight of tears welling in her eyes along with the information guts me from the inside out.
Reaching up, I brush a strand of hair from her small face. “Things are going to be different now, Hannah. I’ll make it better for all of us. I promise.”
Nodding, she lies back down and snuggles into my chest again, her small fingers clutching my shirt. “I love you, Daddy.”
The words rock me to my fucking core. Words that only a very few people have ever said to me but they never meant more than they did in this moment.
“I love you, too, Hannah. Always and forever.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ryanne
It’s close to two in the morning by the time I make it home. The house is dark and quiet as I toe off my cowgirl boots and wiggle my aching toes. Keeping my steps light, I walk around the main floor looking for Justice. When I see no sign of him, I climb the stairs and come to a stop just outside Hannah’s open bedroom door.
My heart falters, exploding with love seeing the two of them sleeping soundly together. Justice’s big body hangs off the bed while Hannah sleeps on top of him, clinging to his chest. His strong arms hold her close, a place I’ve often longed to feel again.
All of her Beanie Boos surround them, a bright pink one covering half of Justice’s head. Never in my life did I think I’d see Justice Creed surrounded by stuffed animals but it’s the most precious moment I’ve ever witnessed.
Tiptoeing inside, I grab another blanket from her closet and drape it over them both, pressing a kiss to Hannah’s cheek. I refrain from pressing one to Justice’s, even though the urge to is strong. I’d love nothing more than to spend every second watching them like this but a hot shower desperately calls my name.
Ever so quietly, I let myself out and walk into my bedroom, heading straight to the bathroom. After removing my clothes, I step under the hot spray and let out a soft sigh. I spend long moments with my face turned up to the water, letting it wash the day away.
If only it could wash away my problems as easily. How different my life would be. The man next door would be waiting for me in our bed. To hold me like he holds our daughter and give me a safe place. It’s a dream I’ve foolishly had for a very long time.
Once the water turns cold, I climb out and wrap the towel around me. Stepping into my room, I find a dark figure standing just inside my doorway. A scream lodges in my throat as I stumble back into the wall before realizing who it is.
“Jesus, Justice,” I breathe, my hand covering my frantic heart. “What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”
; Silence consumes the air, his intense eyes drifting down my half naked body, creating an illusion of his hands. I know that look, it’s both frightening and exhilarating.
“Justice.” His name falls on a whispered warning.
He ignores it and starts forward, his strides purposeful and gaze hungry. I suddenly feel like a frightened doe. He’s the hunter and I’m his prey, but I’m unable to move, anchored by his determined gaze and demanding presence.
I straighten from the wall, my pulse hammering as I cling to my towel for dear life. “I’m not strong enough to tell you no,” I confess quietly, hating how weak I am when it comes to him.
He cages me in, his hands planting on either side of my head. “Do you want to say no, Ryanne?”
My heart wages a war with my mind, two answers battling for dominance as I think long and hard about that question. Eventually, my fragile heart wins and I shake my head.
“Why?” He demands more than asks, his warm breath skimming across the damp skin of my cheek.
I lick my dry lips, doing my best to speak but it’s hard when he crowds me like this, taunting me with his touch. “Because it’s been six years since I’ve been with anyone.”
More importantly, it’s been six years since I felt his touch and I’ve missed it so much, but I keep that to myself. He has enough of my bleeding heart; I can’t afford to give him any more.
Deep, dark eyes stare into mine. “Are you telling me I’m the only one who has ever touched you?” There’s no denying the hard edge to his voice, a possession lying just beneath the surface.
I find myself answering with a nod, my throat too tight to speak.
He lifts a hand, coasting a lone finger over my collarbone to the swell of my breast, slipping it into the knot of my towel. “Do you know why?”
“Because I’ve been raising our daughter.”
He smirks at my gruff voice, enjoying every second of my torment. “As much as I appreciate the way you have taken care of Hannah, we both know that’s not the reason.” He rips the towel away, exposing my naked body.
A sharp breath moves swiftly into my lungs, trailing into a moan as the cool air whispers across my heated skin. It takes everything in me to remain upright and not melt into a puddle of need at his feet.
In the gentlest grip, he wraps his hand around my slender throat, my pulse point hammering against his fingertips as he tilts my head back to look me in the eyes. “No one has touched you, Ryanne, because you belong to me. You always have and you always will.”
Before I can even comprehend his words, his mouth slams down on mine, crashing through the last barrier I had in place. A cry of longing pours from my lips, his kiss possessing me right down to my very soul.
There’s no fighting it. This need, the magnetic pull between us is stronger than us both and I succumb to it, letting it drown me in my own desire.
His hard body covers mine, my back kissing the cool wall as his hot lips descend down my neck. When his mouth curls around one throbbing nipple, I jerk against him, another cry ripping from my throat.
He blows on the stiff peak, soothing the sting before taking the other one into his mouth and inflicting the same exquisite pleasure.
My head drops back, fingers gliding through his hair, every tug and sharp bite of his teeth making my pussy clench and ache for more. His mouth continues its tormented path, leaving its mark until he’s kneeling at my feet, his warm breath fanning over my hot center.
“Justice,” I moan, thrusting my hips toward his face. The need burning inside of me is combustible, searing me from the inside out.
He spreads me open for his viewing, taking a long, leisurely lick of my most intimate part.
“Oh god!” The heated whimper flees me, my knees buckling as desire floods every part of my body.
“Easy, baby,” he croons, gripping my bottom to keep me from crumbling to the floor. “We’re going to get this sweet, tight cunt nice and ready for me.” Without wasting another second, he buries his mouth between my legs, lapping at my hot flesh.
“Yes!” Pleasure races through my blood, my fingers ruthlessly pulling his hair as I shamelessly fuck his face.
When his tongue pierces my opening, I nearly come unhinged. Just as I think I can’t possibly take any more, he slips not one but two fingers inside, his lips still attached to my clit as he fucks me with his fingers, his digits stroking that hidden spot that is sure to make me fall apart.
My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, strong and sure, submerging me in an undercurrent I never want to swim up from.
It turns out I don’t have to. Before I have any kind of chance to grasp reality, he’s on his feet, shirt off and pants undone. In a swift move, I’m lifted off my feet and pinned against the wall.
“Tell me you want this?” he demands, poising at my entrance with barely controlled restraint.
“I want this. I want you.”
I barely finish the words before he drives up into me in one powerful motion, immersing me further into an underworld where only he and I belong.
“Goddamn, Ryanne,” he groans, as affected by our connection as I am. “Years. For fucking years I’ve thought about this.”
I never forgot. Never forgot what it felt like to be his. On the coldest and loneliest nights, it was the memory of his touch that kept me warm.
His eyes are hard and unforgiving as he hammers into me with no apology. Just like the Justice Creed I’ve always known and loved. In the midst of fiery pleasure, one thought crashes down on me. One vital piece of information I can’t keep from him. Not this time.
“Justice…I’m not on anything.” The admission leaves me on a disappointed moan, panic infiltrating my chest at the thought of him leaving my body.
Instead of pulling out like I expect him to, a possessive growl vibrates his chest and he fucks me harder and faster.
“Oh god, this is so wrong,” I whimper. Deep down I know it is. Deep down I know I should tell him to stop but I can’t. Like always, my common sense is no match for the longing of my heart.
“There’s nothing wrong about us, Ryanne. It’s always been so fucking good and you know it.”
It has, it’s always felt so right. That’s what hurts the most, what we could have had if not for our pasts, especially the bond he shares with his brothers. I shove that thought away before it can ruin the moment. This one moment where nothing else in the world exists but us.
His fierce gaze penetrates mine in the quiet dark, intense and possessive, peeling away all the layers I fight to keep in place as he savagely delivers every frantic thrust.
I feel my orgasm build for a second time but I don’t want to go alone. My hand touches his face as I peer back at him. “Come with me.” I follow up the words by leaning down and sinking my teeth into his corded shoulder, hard enough that I taste blood.
“Fuck!” His growl tears through the air as we drown together in a sea of pleasure. It’s freeing and soul shattering.
I hug him close, words evading me at the storm of emotions sweeping through my body. He pushes away from the wall and walks us over to the bed, depositing me on the mattress. His body follows down next to me, wrapping around mine. I burrow in closer to him, savoring the warmth he offers.
Minutes pass as we lie together in comfortable silence but our thoughts and feelings are deafening.
“Tell me about the last six years,” he murmurs.
I turn to face him, his arm that’s wrapped around my waist bringing me in even closer. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” he says. “What was it like being pregnant? What was Hannah like as a baby? I want to know everything I missed out on.”
Guilt infiltrates my chest at the regret in his voice. I can’t take back what’s been done but I’ll do my best to fill in any holes and tell him everything he wants to know.
“My pregnancy at the beginning was exhausting,” I start quietly. “I was sick a lot, but it eventually passed. Good thing since I was
losing weight when I should have been gaining. I didn’t start showing until around five months. The first time I felt her move inside of me…” I trail off, a smile whispering across my lips. “It was unlike anything I can explain. It felt so surreal to know I had this small human growing inside of my body. I fell in love with her right then.”
“Did you know she was a girl before she was born?”
I nod. “When I went for my first ultrasound I found out. I wanted to know since I was trying to decide on a name.”
“What would you have named her if she had been a boy?” he asks, sincere curiosity in his tone.
“Justice Thatcher Creed,” the answer leaves me without hesitation.
His jaw locks, but I’m not sure if it’s over the resentment he still feels or at the mention of his father. Probably both.
“Why Hannah?” he asks, moving on.
“I’m not really sure. I just always liked that name.”
“It suits her.”
It pleases me to know he approves. I always considered him in every decision I made.
“She was a really good baby,” I continue, answering his second question. “She slept a lot. Ate really well, except when we started baby food. She hated carrots.” Another smile claims my mouth as I remember the face she would make. “She used to spit them right back at me.”
“I don’t blame her. I’ve never liked carrots,” he tells me, “they’re fucking disgusting.”
I chuckle at the offered information. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that, she’s always taken after you.” My words leave a heaviness in the room.
Pain takes over his face, striking my heart deeply.
I frame his jaw in the darkness of my room, doing my best to speak past the regret burning in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I choke out once again. “I know it doesn’t mean anything now but I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe that.”
His breathing turns heavy with whatever emotions he’s feeling. Instead of speaking again, he takes my mouth in a hard kiss, a punishing one. I can taste his anger, bitterness and pain on his tongue and it hurts my heart even more.