by Leah Holt
Bijou smiled, her face lighting up with relief. “That's all I need to know.”
Cupping her cheeks, I tugged her down, bringing her nose to mine. “Don't ever doubt me, my word means everything.”
Dancing her eyes around my face, she rolled her lips. “Do you think you'll ever want to share your past with me?”
“It's not that I don't want to share it. I just don't know how to say it and not make you hate me.” Dragging my fingertips up and down her back, I watched her.
“I don't want to push you to tell me, but I can't stop feeling like I need to know why you would take someone's life. I understand Val, I don't question that at all. But why before, what would drive you to do that?” Hanging her head, her hair fell over her face, hiding her from view.
Brushing her hair back, I took in a long breath. “Knowing isn't going to help you, Bijou. I want you to know me, who I really am.”
Slipping off my lap, she traced the long scars on her thigh. “Diablo did this.” Twisting so I could see her back, she pointed her finger over her shoulder. “All these.” Holding out her palm, she spread her fingers wide. “And this.” Dropping her hands against her legs, she angled her head to look at me. “You can see my scars. I can't see yours. Tell me who you killed, Redd, just give me that.”
Flaring my nostrils, I rocked my jaw side to side. I hadn't spoken about it for years. Not with Vicki, not with anyone.
I wanted Bijou to trust me, and telling her what I had done, I wasn't sure that would help either of us.
Give her what she wants, Redd. Let her decide what to do with it.
She was either going to accept it or hate me. But I wouldn't be able to hide it forever. It always had a way of finding me. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get rid of it.
Forcing my tongue to form the words, I let them go.
“I killed my father, Bijou.”
Chapter Sixteen
Bijou
I couldn't breathe when he told me he killed his father. My voice was lost in a rush of hot and cold fear as I looked into the eyes of a murderer.
He killed his own father. . .
My brain twisted into a ball, trying to grasp what he had done. It was impossible.
“You don't really mean that.”
Narrowing his eyes, he held my gaze. “It's not a lie, Bijou. I killed my father, shot him where he stood.”
Every breath I tried to take in felt like needles stabbing my lungs and puncturing my heart. My life had been passed between two evils. From one hand to the next it was all the same, only the face had changed.
Why would he do that?
“Are you alright?” he asked, attempting to reach up and touch my arm.
Backing away, I crossed my legs and cupped my hands in my lap. His eyes surveyed my face, trying to see inside my head.
“Say something, Bijou.”
What was I supposed to say?
He gave me the answer I asked for, and it wasn't what I expected at all.
“Bijou, talk to me. What are you thinking?”
Shaking my head, an uneasy smile manipulated my lips. “What am I thinking. . .” Scoffing, I let out a weak laugh. “I'm wondering how the hell you can sit there and tell me you would never hurt me, and yet you were able to kill your own father.”
“It's not what you think, so please try not to judge me.”
“Judge you?” Snapping my shoulders square, I jerked my head up. “Are you serious?”
Sitting up straight, he pointed towards me. “You wanted to know, you're the one who insisted on hearing it. This is why I didn't want to tell you, because of this right here.” Swirling his finger, he circled my face.
“So it's my fault, the way I feel right now is my fault?” The shock I felt over hearing his answer started to wear off, pushing anger up into its place. “Don't you try and make this about me, this is about you.”
I had put him on a pedestal, allowing myself to look at him like he was a god, a savior who had been sent to rescue me. He wasn't. He was no different than the man I was running from.
What the hell was I thinking? How did I not see it?
All the time I spent conditioning myself to see beneath the surface had been fruitless. I hadn't been able to see what he kept hidden. I missed all the signs.
Where there even any signs at all?
Sitting across from him, I tried to think of an action, a sentence, anything that should have stood out to warn me. I came up empty.
“Okay, I'm sorry, you're right.” Holding up his hands, he waved a white flag. “You're absolutely right. I did something horrible—but I need you to understand, it wasn't something I planned. It happened, I snapped. But I had to do it, I didn't have a choice.”
With fire in my eyes and stones in my gut, my voice turned into razors. “You snapped? That's your excuse?” Jumping to my feet, I paced across the carpet, tearing at my hair. “So what happens the next time you snap, huh? Is that what the other day was, when you pinned me against the wall? Was that you snapping, Redd?”
Long lines crept up his forehead, eyebrows drawing up high. “I controlled it, Bijou, I was able to stop it.”
Throwing my arms up in the air, I couldn't stay still. “Well that's good then, that changes everything! You controlled yourself, bravo!” Clapping my hands together, I gave him a round of applause.
“You should be counting your blessings that I was able control myself. Otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation.”
When I look back on my reaction and think about it as a whole—my brazen confrontation was pretty ballsy. Knowing he was capable of killing anyone, that who it was didn't matter, calling him out wasn't the best idea. But I still didn't feel fear with him and I wasn't sure why.
For all I knew he could have ended me right then. And when he didn't, I used the opportunity to my advantage.
The desire to challenge him fed my voice, it gave me the confidence I needed to not just roll over and let another person take control of me.
I was done being controlled.
“You think you can just say whatever you want and I'll believe it. You killed your father! How the hell am I supposed to feel about that?”
“You have no fucking clue! I thought you'd understand!” Lurching out of the bed, Redd stormed across the room to stand in front of me. “You don't need to worry, because I can control my anger. I promise you I'm never going to hurt you. Let me explain it first.” Brushing his fingers over my arm, my body went up in flames.
Fuck no!
Is my body serious right now?
The feel of his skin on mine forced my stomach to clench and my heart to pound inside my chest. I didn't want to like it, but the pulse in my sex told me I did. And that confused the fuck out of me.
Am I really supposed to just believe him?
Jerking my arm away, I took a step back. “No, don't touch me.” Using my hand, I drew a line between us. “You stay right there, I can't take you touching me right now.”
“Why? Because it doesn't hurt like you think it will? Because you can't deny what's happening between us and that scares you?”
“No, that's not it.” I lied. The fact that I still wanted his hands on me after hearing he had killed the man who gave him life scared the piss out of me.
How was I supposed to balance my thoughts so they made sense?
I didn't know what happened. Maybe it was an accident, maybe there was some other circumstance that forced his hand.
My heart was crashing against my ribs, two beats of lust for every one beat of anxiety. I couldn't deny what flowed through my body when he was near me, and I couldn't erase what I had heard him say.
Taking a long step in, Redd brought us toe to toe. “Yes it is, Bijou. I can see it written all over your body.”
Glancing down, I realized I was still naked. I had forgotten that my clothes were in a pile on the floor, that I was open and bare for him to observe my nipples turn stiff and my thighs glisten from the onslaught of
arousal that was clearly building between my legs.
Wrapping my arms around my breasts, I tipped my head up, jaw jetting out hard. “Don't be so full of yourself, Redd. You're reading me wrong.”
“Am I?” His broad shoulders shadowed my body, face leaning in so I could feel his breath on my skin. “Tell me I'm wrong, Bijou.” His soft lips frosted my cheek in cool air, tongue flicking my lobe.
Shivering, I felt my sex begin to drip down my thighs as my clit swelled and throbbed, aching to be touched.
His cock was hard, almost touching my belly as our bodies tangoed with the air between us. He was so close, but he wasn't reaching out to touch me. Flexed hands were by his sides, fingers wriggling and tapping against his hips.
“This isn't fair,” I said, taking another step back and hitting the wall. “You're screwing with my head.”
“I'm not trying to screw with your head. Everything I've said, I meant, and everything I've done wasn't done in vain. You can feel it too, I know you can.” Closing in on me, Redd's eyes licked my body, grazing each and every delicate part.
I could feel them ghostly stroking my skin. My chest constricted, nipples pebbling as his deep brown stare sucked me in. His eyes rolled down my stomach, and my belly tightened, causing my muscles to tremble with need. Hovering over my mound, he dragged his tongue over his teeth, and my sex beat harder, milking the air between my thighs.
Why? Why am I still feeling this way?
I shouldn't want him, not now, not after what I learned about him. But I couldn't ignore it, the sexual tension was living and breathing, and I couldn't shut it off.
“I don't care what you think, you're wrong.”
Trapping me against the wall, his eyes lit up, cock bouncing high as he left mere inches between us. I was confined by muscle, held hostage by a wall of glistening man I wanted to feel inside me.
This is insane, I don't want him. Not now, not anymore.
Stepping to the right, he sidestepped to block me, moving to the left, he mimicked my motion and refused to let me squeeze through.
“Get out of my way.”
“And if I don't?” His arms stretched out beside my head, boxing me in.
“If you don't, you're going to have a pair of swollen balls tomorrow.” Raising my knee up, I pressed it into his thigh. “So I suggest you get the fuck out of my way.”
His eyes switched back and forth between mine, trying to figure out how serious I was. Crooking his jaw, he closed the last few inches between us, forcing his thigh between my legs. “I'm not moving, Bijou, not until you hear me out on this.”
“You already said all I needed to hear.” My lids lowered, lips drawing taut.
“I haven't said enough, that's the problem.” Shifting his knee, my thighs parted wider, making room for him to wedge his cock against my belly. “But we don't have to talk anymore right now, not if you don't want to. Just tell me what you want from me.”
My heart raced a million miles a minute as my body grew hotter and my brain switched from emotional to greedy. I wanted him; I wanted him to touch me, to caress me, to make me feel all the tingles and chills.
It felt like an addiction I couldn't control. All I wanted was one more hit, I could stop at any time. But that wasn't the truth. I'd want more and more until the cravings hurt and I couldn't function without him.
A tiny voice chirped in my ear, reminding me of what he had done for me. Bad men, truly evil men—even they wouldn't kill their own blood unless they were forced to, and they certainly didn't rescue wounded birds.
I was that wounded bird. Dropped from the branch and left for the predators to feed on, only to be scooped up and coddled into flight by a wolf with a conscience.
Redd wasn't a monster. And it didn't matter how much I might try to convince myself he was. . . Because my heart knew better.
'Did you kill her father too?' I had asked him that, I had tempted the beast to come out and play and didn't even know it. I wasn't blaming myself for him pinning me to the wall, but it was my hand that twisted his arm.
His strong fingers cupped my cheek, head tilting to stare deep into my eyes. “You want to hate me for what I did, but you don't. Because you already know that I'm not the man you're imagining. I'm not saying I don't feel it in some way, he was still my father. But I don't regret it.”
Parting my lips, I tried to regain my voice, attempting to turn my feelings into words. The hard curve of his knee scrapped my sex, sending a rush of sexual adrenaline through my system.
Leaning in, he placed his lips against the shell of my ear and whispered. “You're so fucking wet right now, I think I have your answer.”
Curling his fingers around my neck, he flipped me against the wall, holding my cheek against the cool paneling. Gasping, I moaned as he slipped his finger up the center of my pussy and spread my juice.
I didn't fight him, and I didn't want to. I wanted him to take me. Rational or not, the feelings I had for this man were stronger than anything I had ever felt before.
Moaning, I arched my back, pushing my ass against his lower belly and grinding into his muscles. “I don't want to know.” My voice was faint, built on air and desire.
“Yes you do.” The tips of his fingers dug into my skin, holding me firmly in place. Gliding his index finger up and down, he flicked my clit over and over. “And I'll tell you everything.”
“No, I don't need to know. It doesn't matter.” Closing my eyes, I groaned again as his touch grew heavier over my sensitive button.
Nothing he had done mattered. He saved me, that was all I cared about. Whatever he had been in the past and the man I could see, they weren't the same.
Redd's hard length slipped between my ass cheeks, hips rocking back and forth. “Tell me why,” he said, his tone husky and full. “I need to know why it doesn't matter.”
Twisting to look at him over my shoulder, I splayed open palms on the wall and pushed back into his chest. His hand fell off my neck, tracing my ribs and coming around to squeeze my breast.
“Tell me, Bijou.” Pinching my nipple, he plucked the tender bead, coaxing another moan from deep within my lungs.
“Because I already know who you are.” Removing a hand off the wall, I curled it back over his neck and clenched my ass cheeks around his cock. “You're my wolf.”
Growling, Redd sunk his teeth into my shoulder and fucked the slit of my ass as his finger drove into my pussy up to the knuckle. Smooth and slick, my juice coated his hand. I felt him spread the arousal up my ass, spinning his finger around my puckered hole.
Is he going to. . . He is.
Inserting his finger, he went in a little, then pulled it out. “I want every part of you, Bijou.” His finger went in again, slow and easy. “But you need to tell me if you can't take this. I don't want to hurt you, I never want to hurt you.”
Rolling my head against his chest, I nodded. I wanted to feel him in me so bad, it didn't matter where. My ass, my pussy, it was all his to take.
Seeping liquid, my hips rocked, pussy begging to be touched. “Touch me, Redd, touch my pussy.”
Pulling my hand off his neck, he guided it down to my sex. It was warm and wet, pulsing and throbbing against the pad of my finger. He moved my finger around, slipping it inside and back up to my clit.
Groaning, I bit the inside of my cheek as he pulled his hand away and left me to stroke my tender folders. Pressing his hand between my shoulder blades, he bent me forward.
Playing with myself, I watched him from the corner of my eye. His chest muscles flexed, glistening in sweat and need. Spreading my ass wide, he let his gaze settle on my hole as he dragged the tip of his cock over the opening.
Sweeping a hand across my pussy, he spread the hot, silky liquid around my asshole, and the rest over the tip of his cock. His dick was engorged, filled with big veins and decorated at the base with dark black hair.
Redd was sexy as hell. There was this look to him right then. Feral, alluring, fierce and exposed, he was a ma
ssive presence, commanding my body into submission.
Pushing against the entrance, I felt a slight burn, so I clenched my teeth and shut my eyes. Rubbing my clit faster, I made the feeling in my belly turn from a little buzz into a grand symphony of vibrations.
Stopping as the tip of his crown popped inside, he gripped my hips. His length throbbed as his eyes rolled back into his head and he moaned. “Fuck that's tight.” Rubbing his thumbs over the dip in my spine, he caressed my back. “Are you alright? Does that hurt?”
“It burns a little, but I'm alright.” My ass gripped his member, squeezing around the hard muscle. “Keep going.”
Stretching me open, Redd slipped in further as I stroked myself harder, drowning out the uncomfortable twinge of pain around my asshole.
Stopping again, he was inside completely, and I heard him moan. “Fuck, Bijou, that feels incredible.” Shifting his hips back slowly, he drove in again at a gentle speed. “Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”
“I'm okay, don't stop, please don't stop.” Flicking my sex, I rubbed with vigor, erasing the sensation in my backside.
Redd laid his chest over my shoulders, fucking my ass harder and faster. Thrust after thrust, he split me open, making me scream with pleasure and pain. My ass was on fire, but I liked it.
Pleasure and pain were two things that blended together. They walked side by side, and in order to truly be alive you needed to embrace them both.
I took the pain, but as the orgasm built deep inside, the pleasure swiftly drove it away.
“Aaah,” I moaned, muscles tensing, ready to jump for that rush of ecstasy.
Placing one hand over mine, Redd worked my finger, pushing it in and out of my pussy as his pace quickened behind me.
His hips thrusted, driving in with animalistic need. His hand turned into power, feeding my body with a tremble of delirious sparks. The orgasm shot through my muscles, attempting to drop me to my knees.
Capturing my hips, Redd held me up, bucking his waist one last time. His body stilled, cock pulsing and beating warm come inside me.
Our breathing was heavy, breaths matching each other in loud panting exhales. I didn't have words to give him or a thought to try and make sense of.