by Monroe, Evie
“I used to be the apple of his eye. I always trusted him, believed in him, knew that when he touched me, it’d be out of love. Yes, once I did hear him accusing my mother of having me to trap him, not that he ever acted trapped, because I’d seen how many women he had. But he never acted like I was a trap. He was gentle with me, even as he was beating up my mom,” I said, thinking back to those early days of how we’d always believed that if we acted a certain way or just said the right words, things would get better. “When I was thirteen or so, I decided I was big enough to step in and take my mother’s beatings. I stood up to him.”
“You did?”
I scoffed. “Yeah. My mom didn’t like it at all. She begged me to stop. But I learned that when I got in his face and told him he was being an asshole, it got through to him a little. He’d get pissed as hell, but it hit home with him. The beatings didn’t last that long. And I’d rather him beat up on me than my mom.”
“Motherfucker. I can’t believe he’d hit you.”
“Yeah, that’s how it was. Me protecting my mom. I think my dad actually respected me for being the only one to stand up to him. He liked me and my fresh mouth, told me he thought my sticking up for my mom was ‘building character’.” I shivered as I thought of that first night when he’d learned I crossed the line from his little girl to worthless whore.
“That all changed when I turned fifteen. I started seeing a guy from the Fury. He was a lot older than me. Most of the guys knew to stay away from me but this guy was young or suicidal. I was restless, being kept in my ivory tower, so I pursued him relentlessly. I kind of made it impossible for him to say no to me.” I smiled at the thought of how ridiculous I’d been, chasing him around the clubhouse when my father was away, wearing tight clothes and short shorts so he’d have no choice but to notice me. “He was a nice guy. Really nice. Sweet. He tried to take care of me.”
“Anyway,” I said, wiping my eyes as my sob turned into a bitter laugh. “I think he’s dead. I think my father killed him. Because of me. Because he touched me, and I’m off-limits to everyone, even the good guys. Whatever happened to him, it’s not good, and it’s my fault.”
“Jesus, Cait,” Drake said tugging on a handful of his long hair as he recoiled in shock.
“So since then, I’ve been careful. On the rare occasion, like last night, when I can go out, I leave North Aveline Bay. I stick to one-night-stands. Men my father can’t possibly find out about. Men I can’t get attached to.”
He spread his legs out and crossed his arms. “Me.”
I nodded, then realized that what I said was kind of offensive. “I mean. Because of proximity. I’m sure I could get attached, if I let myself. But I don’t. I don’t want to hurt anyone again.”
“I get it,” he said, but I wasn’t sure he did. Because of my father, I was keenly attuned to notice the signs of a man’s anger, and Drake had that look now. I forced myself to breathe in through my mouth, out through my nose, to calm down.
I had to physically stop myself from flinching. I wished I wasn’t so conditioned to believe that a man being angry meant flying fists would soon follow. Drake was not my father. Most men were not my father. I was safe here.
Drake took a sip of coffee. “What I don’t get is why you and your mom don’t just leave.”
I snorted. It sounded so easy. Just leave. But there were a thousand intricate threads binding us together, tying us to my father. “My dad has always been our sole provider. He made sure my mom never worked. First, he said it was because we were his princesses, but now I look back and see that he wanted to keep us helpless and dependent on him. We have no money, no family, no means to survive without him.”
“But there are shelters for abused women.”
“You know my father’s insane, right?” I said to him, the words coming out harsher than I’d wanted them to. “If we went to one of those places, he’d probably burn it down, just out of spite. He’d find us and make us pay. Those places can only keep us safe for so long.”
“All right,” he said, sucking in his lips.
“So you understand why I have to go back, right?”
He jerked his head up and narrowed his eyes. “No, I don’t. You go back there now, and your father will kill you. Is that what you want?”
“But my mom—”
“No. Jesus, Cait. I know you want to take care of her, but you’ve got to think of yourself, too. Your mom have a cell phone?”
I nodded.
“Call and check on her. If she doesn’t answer, we’ll call the police and ask them to check on her. You sure as hell shouldn’t be going there. After what I saw. Fuck no. I’m not letting you.”
He didn’t need to convince me. When I thought of going back, a stone settled in my stomach, rolling around in there, making me queasy at the thought of what I’d find. What he’d do to me. What my mother would say. She never blamed me, but whatever happened to my mother today? It was all my fault.
I forced that thought away, reached into my purse and pulled out my phone. I pressed the button for my mom and listened to the voicemail message to click on before ending the call. “She’s not answering.”
After that, Drake called the police and gave them the address, saying he was a concerned neighbor and that he’d heard sounds coming from the house earlier that day and wanted to make sure everything was all right. When he ended the call, he looked at me. “Feel better now?”
I hugged myself, tamping down the goosebumps on my bare arms. “I’ll feel better when I know my mom is all right.”
“All right. Just hang tight, okay?” she said to me, touching my knee again, but not releasing his finger this time. He kept it there, drawing soothing circles on my skin.
That was all it took to make my pussy clench. And I still didn’t have any fucking panties on.
I shifted away from him, and he must’ve interpreted that as me being upset with him, because he said, “It’ll be all right. But there’s nothing you can do right now. The best you can do is keep away from him.”
I wiped the last of the tears from my eyes and nodded. “Okay. Whatever you say. But I feel useless.”
He stood up. “You tired? Want to take a nap? You can have the bed.”
I looked down at myself. I was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. After being in the bar, and all that sex last night, I still hadn’t taken a shower. My skin felt slick with sweat and my hair felt like a grease puddle. “Would you mind if I take a shower?”
He shook his head and motioned to the bathroom. “Help yourself. Towels in the closet.”
I looked at the door. I scraped my top teeth over my bottom lip, thinking. Yes, I did need a shower. But right now, what I needed most was to not be alone.
No, what I needed most was a little more of that magic touch of his.
All over my body.
I said, very timidly, “Uhm. Would you take one with me?”
His eyes flashed to mine. The speed with which he came to my side was almost Olympic-worthy. He started to usher me down the hall, but we didn’t get that far, because before I could reach the doorknob, his hands were on me, gripping me possessively. He whirled me to him in the narrow hallway, clamped his hands around me, and slammed his hard body against mine. His mouth settled on mine, and I surrendered myself to him. Right at that moment, I knew I would stay there and let him do whatever he pleased. I’d let him kiss, suck, fuck, lick, claim whatever he wanted, and I’d fucking love it.
He kissed me again like the badass he was, fucking my mouth with his tongue, his big hand engulfing my throat, then sliding down over my breasts. He reached the hem of my camisole and slid his hand underneath, cupping my breast and running his fingers on my nipple as I desperately pushed my tongue into his mouth. His other hand came around my neck, pulling the tie from my ponytail. My hair spilled down my shoulders as I pressed myself up against him.
Lifting my ass and pressing me against the wall, he broke the kiss and dragged his mouth, rough and we
t, over my chin, down my throat to my breastbone. His teeth caught the fabric of the camisole and he lifted it down over my nipple, then sucked one into his mouth.
I growled. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew we were treading dangerous territory. I’d gone past the comfortable one-night-stand, something I’d been careful not to do. It felt like this was my whole universe, like I had nothing else on earth to look forward to or care about, and I clung to it. I tried to remain still, in breathless anticipation of what he’d do, where his mouth and hands would move next, because I wanted to remember this, wanted to remember the path his fingers and tongue trailed over every single part of my hot flesh.
But I was already close to losing my mind and forgetting myself completely. One more suck and I lost all reason and damn near cried, it was so good.
“Please,” I moaned as he freed both my tits from my camisole and continued to lavish his attention on them. He carried me into the bathroom. I wound my hands around the nape of his neck as he maneuvered to open the door to the shower and twist the shower knob. He began to kick off his boots, staring intently into my eyes, his forehead pressed against mine.
He felt the water, never letting me go. That was just how strong and big and amazing he was; he kept me cradled in his arms like he didn’t want to lose one minute of his skin against mine. “You like it hot?”
I nodded.
His eyebrows rose. “It’s about to get a lot hotter for you, baby.”
We tore at each other’s clothes until we were, for the most part, naked, and as he lowered me inside the shower stall, my legs wobbled. He lowered his pants and his boxer briefs together, leaving me gazing with hunger at his beautiful, hard, muscled body. In one swift move, he joined me. The steam filled the room, casting us in a dreamlike haze as he caged me within his impressively muscular frame and his mouth descended on mine in a ravishing kiss. Desire flickered through me as he swept down, covering my breast with his mouth to suck it.
“I love your tits,” he murmured, nipping one with his teeth until I cried out. “They’re so fucking pretty and goddamn responsive.”
I arched my back as he squeezed and sucked it to a hardened point. He licked his way up the hollow of my throat, to the tip of my chin. He nibbled and bit at my lips, one hand grabbing my hair as the other slipped between my legs. He rubbed the pad of his finger over my aching clit and I squirmed against him. The sensations lit up my body, and I raked my hands down his strong back, feeling the coiled tension in his shoulders as he rubbed me, slow and maddeningly with his fingers.
“Fuck me,” I whispered against his damp skin, smelling him, wanting all of my senses to drown in him. “Just take me now, right here.”
“It’s the plan. But not now, or here.”
I pouted. “Why?”
“No condom,” he said, dipping his head and kissing the shell of my ear, as I realized how I’d very nearly forgotten. I was a protection girl. How fucking mindless could this guy make me. “Just take this for now.”
The pleasure was mind-boggling. Once again, he primed me so easily that I was almost embarrassed at how fast I came. He didn’t do anything more than brush against my cunt, alternating firm pressure and feather light touches as I whimpered. I ran my hands down the smooth contours of his chest, my insides clenching, tightening, exploding with so much pressure that I gasped, falling against him. The orgasm was electric, bolts of lightning zapping straight to my toes.
“Drake . . . oh fuck.” I could barely stand. I slumped into him, wobbly. Why did he make my orgasms so deliciously intense like that? Like heaven and earth were moving around us?
He put a finger on my lip, quieting me. I was shuddering, my muscles slowly relaxing, turning me into melted butter.
As I came down, he guided me under the stream of warm water. He became comforting, running his big hands through my hair, spilling sweet-smelling shampoo into his palm and lathering my hair. I let the water rinse away the suds as he went for a bar of soap. I closed my eyes as I felt his hands rubbing everywhere, stealing my breath away.
He spread my arms and slid the soap up into my armpits, between my legs, into the crack of my ass, working methodically, clinically, like a doctor. His body bulged in all the right places. His torso glistening and wet, his nipples erect with excitement, his beautiful cock hard and ready. He excited me so much I felt my mouth salivating for it, but when I tried to touch him, he nudged my hands away. He lathered himself quickly, half-out of the stream of the shower, and continued to keep the attention on me, being careful not to miss a spot.
I wasn’t sure of this feeling, because I’d never felt it before.
But it felt like he was worshiping me. Taking care of me.
Or maybe he was just assessing all my bruises and welts, like a good doctor would.
“What are you doing?” I asked timidly, my pulse going a thousand miles a minute as I looked up at him.
“Gazing at perfection,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile. He reached out to cradle my cheek in his big hand, cupping it gently, despite all the calluses.
I almost leaned into it. Almost believed. But then I remembered who he was, who I was, and that fantasy burst in my head. He probably said that to all the women he fucked.
“If I was perfect, I wouldn’t have all these bruises,” I said, my voice a feathery whisper.
Powerful emotion crossed his face and his body tightened. Rivulets of water slid down his square jaw, clinging to his eyelashes as he stared at me, tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear. “Some people want to fuck with perfection, because it’s so rare they don’t know what to do with it,” he rasped. “No one will fuck with you on my watch. Not even Slade. Your daddy comes after you or your mom again, and he’ll pay for every goddamn bruise he gives either of you with one from each of my brothers. I’ll make sure of it. You got it?”
I nodded, even though I knew his promise was empty. No one could watch me twenty-four-seven. The only person who’d come closest to doing that was also the one responsible for breaking me apart.
Chapter Fifteen
Drake
I’d used up every last bit of my restraint in the shower. Gazing at Cait’s beautiful body, watching her as she trembled and came against my hand, it was all I could do not to hold her against the shower wall and take her. My cock was hard as a steel rod and ready for her as I wrapped a towel around my waist. I put another one around her, then lifted and carried her to my bed. Setting her down in the center, I dried her arms, her tits. I lifted her legs to dry them, and she let out a little gasp when I moved the towel between them.
“Lift your head,” I said, sitting down next to her.
She did, and I wrapped the towel around her hair, soaking up the excess water. She asked, “How did you get so good at doing this?”
I shrugged. “When I worked for Doctors Without Borders after I left my residency, I was in Africa. We had a minimal staff and had to be our patients’ everything; orderly, nurse, doctor. I had to do it all.”
“You worked in Africa?”
I nodded, dragging my thumb along her jaw. “Only a year. It was when the Ebola crisis was out of control there and they needed doctors, so I went.”
“You are very good at what you do,” she said, lifting up onto her elbows to be closer to me. She leaned in and ran a finger down my collarbone, then kissed my shoulder, licking up the drops of water there. She dipped her head and licked at my chest, and I smelled the scent of soap and shampoo. My cock was throbbing by the time she pulled the towel from my hips, lust thick in her eyes. “But now I just want you to fuck me.”
I reached into the night table and pulled out a condom, slipping a hand under her and rolling her onto her stomach. “Like this,” I commanded in her ear, setting my forehead at the back of her head and kissing her shoulder, rubbing my cock along the crack of her ass. She let out a gasp that said she agreed.
I rolled on the condom and pushed inside, pulling her to the edge of the bed by
her hips, holding her on my cock for a good, long time so I could just feel her warm, tight pussy. Her hair fell down the sides of her face in wet ropes, covering her cheeks. I gathered it together so I could see her. See her eyes closed, her face flushed and full of smoky arousal that turned me on all the more.
I pulled on her hair, urging her head up so I could bite on her neck, her shoulders. She let out a gasp of disapproval as I pulled out, running my cock along the crack of her ass before sinking in deeper. This time, she met my thrusts, showing me how much she wanted this. How much she wanted me.
That did it. I grabbed her hair with my fist, turning her head, slamming my mouth onto hers as I felt my orgasm fast approaching. She rocked her hips back against me, and I rammed into her and came, a roar erupting from my throat as her body jerked underneath me. I clenched my hands around her hips, holding her still against me as she came, her pussy clenching around me.
I pumped her, again and again, as long as she continued to come, the tremors seizing her perfect body.
I slipped out of her and she rolled over, a cautious look on her face. “Why did you want to see my tattoo again?”
I pulled the condom off of my dick, tossed it in the bathroom trash, and climbed in the bed beside her. I said, “Because I want you to know that I don’t care. You might have that tattoo, but it isn’t you.”
A small smile appeared on her lips. “My dad made me get that, when I was sixteen. He wanted to brand me. I screamed the whole time. Which is why I never got another one.”
I lifted the pillow against the headboard, slipped next to her and pulled her warm body up to my chest. “Brand you? Jesus. He’s fuckin’ wacko.”
She nodded and traced the tattoo on my left hip. “I didn’t notice the cobra here,” she said. “You don’t have a million tattoos, like most guys.”
“Just one. In a moment of drunken madness and solidarity with my boys,” I said, leaning my head back against the headboard. “I grew up seeing some pretty fucked up shit with my dad. It made me appreciate the perfection of the unblemished human form.”