You Loved Me At My Ugliest

by Evie Harper

  With a direct and clear tone, I say, “If you don’t want a knee to your dick, I would suggest you move.”

  Matthew swallows roughly and scrunches up his face while he processes my words, I take the opportunity to step around him and head straight for the door, almost running this time.

  I’m reaching out for the handle when Matthew smoothly inserts himself between the front door and me.

  I ball my fists and glare at him with a heated stare while he appears ready to flinch and cover his crotch at any time.

  “Junk punch it is, then?” I warn in a tight voice.

  “Ah, yes, while that would fucking hurt, I can lift three-hundred pounds, easily.” He assesses my body. Instinctively, my arms cross over my body. “And I’d say you're about one-hundred-and-fifty pounds.” I narrow my eyes at his accurate guess. Matthew smiles and continues, “As you can see, subduing you and carrying you up to a room will be quite easy for me, and entertaining. You have no idea how boring this house can get.”

  “I know Joey told you and everyone else not to touch me,” I remind him, hoping those words still mean something after Joey just left me here alone to go off with another woman.

  Matthew cringes and nods. "Yes. I do like the use of all of my fingers, but something tells me I’ll be in more trouble if I let you leave.”

  I look at the ground. “Well, something tells me he doesn’t care what happens to me right now.”

  Oomph. I’m taken off my feet and left hanging over Matthew’s shoulder as he walks away from the front door.

  “Not everything is as it seems, Alexa. Welcome to a world of lies, manipulation, blackmail and more often than not, death.”

  ~~~

  Slowly, I open my eyes, noticing it’s dark, not sure why I’ve woken up. Dried tears left on my face as I fell asleep sit uncomfortably on my skin.

  Matthew had dropped me into an over-the-top every-woman’s-dream bedroom, the theme white and grey with a huge bed in the middle of the large room. Circular mirrors are placed on the walls around the room with intricate patterns framing each glass. On the right side of the room are grey curtains, framing white glass doors that open inwards to a small patio, which looks out over the ocean.

  Sensing movement, I turn over to find Joey in my room, sitting on my bed. His head down, held in his hands, his shoulders are slumped in defeat. This is one posture I’ve seen many times before, usually when he came to me covered in blood after doing his father’s dirty work. Beating men almost to death and sometimes taking their lives, the remnants of dirt would be on his skin, telling me he spent his night digging a shallow grave. I would never be sure who would come home to me: a man still pumped from giving immoral men their just desserts or a broken man staring down at his tainted hands, wondering how he got there, how his, our, lives were still involved with and controlled by his father.

  For a child who grew up with loving parents and in an affectionate home with my aunt, I, at no time, had a problem with Joey’s position in his father’s business. If he didn’t teach those men not to harm The Collection, then who would? I hated that he never stood against his father, but I also understood. He took a stand and his mother received a beating. As an only child who never had anyone to help him, my heart broke when all he ever tried to do was the right thing, and each choice meant hurting his mother or killing a small piece of himself.

  However, sooner or later, one of us was going to crack, and it turned out to be me, lying in my bed, the day after my beating for attempting to help two slave girls escape. I had finally had enough.

  Joey wanted revenge. He was going to kill the man who beat me and, of course, I wanted revenge myself. Being beaten and overpowered was the worst moment of my life. The helplessness, the weight of fear against my chest with every hit, not knowing if I was going to live or die; obviously, I wanted the man to pay, but a bigger part of me was tired. The shameful life had drained me. I had nothing left, and that’s when I decided I had to leave, to run away from a life I had grown to despise.

  Lily’s words ring clear. Love can be many things, but most importantly, it’s about sacrifice, surrendering your faith to the other person, praying they love you enough so that in the end, you both get your happily ever after.

  I sit up in the bed and pull the comforter with me. I’m only wearing my bra and panties since all my belongings are still back at my hotel.

  Joey’s head whips up to focus on me. The pain in his expression breaks my heart. We’re back there, the shattered look in his eyes, the disbelief of how our lives got here.

  My anger dissipates. I don’t want to fight. I just need to know if there’s still something between us worth fighting for, or if I’m leaving here with an even more shredded heart than when I arrived.

  “How many times do you think I’ve said sorry to you, Lexi?” Joey asks, his tone exhausted.

  His question surprises me, and I end up stammering, “I-I don’t know.”

  Joey turns back to face away from me, looking down at his hands on his thighs. “I think if I had to look you in the eyes and apologize again for my fucked-up life, I’d go mad. Just the thought of it makes me want to destroy everything in this room.” Joey fists his hands and his knuckles go white.

  Feeling the waves of disappointment he has for himself, I grab his sleeve, and he turns back to me.

  “You deserve so much more than this life, than me. Part of me wishes I never came out from behind those stairs to talk to you. The selfish part of me thanks God every day that I did.” Joey glances down to the comforter. “I wish I could be a selfless man and let you go.”

  And I thank God that he’s not a selfless man when it comes to me.

  “Joey, what’s going on? That woman, who is she?”

  Joey’s eyes find mine, and he rubs the back of his neck angrily. “Fuck, I completely forgot Gabrielle was coming over when I found you. She means nothing to me, Lexi. She’s a business deal.”

  At Joey’s words, I bring my legs closer to my body, bracing for the words I’m afraid to hear. If he tells me he slept with her and was still coming back to me, I’m going to be sick on this expensive comforter. “Did you sleep with her?” My voice trembles and my heart beats rapidly, waiting for his answer. I’m bracing for the agonizing pain if he says yes, but could I blame him if he did? I’m the one who ended us, and also had a relationship with someone else.

  Joey’s eyes widen in shock, “What? Fuck, no! Baby, I haven’t slept with her or any other woman, and I never will. You were my first and by God, I pray you’ll be my last. I love you, Alexa Kingsley, time and distance will not change that fact, physically or emotionally for me.” Joey’s voice is thick and husky.

  The weight on my chest drifts away, and the tension twisted up through my body releases. However, new sensations take root, guilt and fear. What happens when I tell Joey about Nick? Will he be able to understand why I tried to move on? If he feels even the slightest hurt I did just then, I’m afraid he’ll back away and we may never be the same again. This house, this situation is not the place to tell him, but I will soon and I pray he will be able to understand and move on from it.

  “She’s only a business deal, Lexi, between Michael and her father, the head of the Lucini crime family in New York.

  “I was honest with her from the start and told her there would never be anything between us, and she was relieved. She didn’t want to date me either, but we both know it’s best to keep Michael and her father happy thinking we are. It's easier than being blackmailed or manipulated into it when we both know the other isn’t interested anyway.”

  “I don’t understand. What does Michael get from you dating a mafia princess?”

  “Connections to a very powerful family and an endless amount of drug dealers on the streets of New York City,” Joey explains.

  I’m about to ask another question, but Joey notices and speaks before me.

  “Lexi, there’s a lot to talk about, but that’s the last thing I want to do right now wh
ile we’re alone, on a bed, and I can see you’re wearing nearly nothing under that blanket.” Joey’s voice rumbles, and he licks his lips, staring down at my almost bare chest.

  My eyes shoot up to Joey’s and his meet mine. Desire swirls in his dark-brown eyes, begging me for the okay, for me to say take me, so he can show me how he truly feels, because that’s always been Joey’s way. Words have never been his way to convey how much I mean to him. It’s always been in his actions, in and out of the bedroom. Joey is a man of action, words don’t mean as much to him. When he was nineteen, Joey’s equivalent to ‘I love you’ was throat punching a guy at a bar for standing too close to me. Since then, he’s learned to say the words to me, but he will still hurt a man whom he thinks is a threat, and in Joey’s world, most men are threats.

  My eyes roam his face, and then my eyes fall to his now bulging biceps as he leans on his fists, his upper body moving closer to me. The bed dips, and if I let my body go limp, I would just fall into his arms.

  My eyes meet his again and my tongue darts out to lick my bottom lip and bite down. Joey takes the movement as my consent and lunges. His lips land flush on mine. The kiss is desperate. It's not about love. It’s about obsession, about us both knowing distance and time will never extinguish the passion we feel for one another, the fixation we have for each other never having an ending.

  Without releasing my mouth, Joey places an arm around my waist and yanks the comforter back from my body and throwing it carelessly to the floor.

  Joey can be both a gentle and a rough lover. I adore both, but when he feels on edge or threatened, this is the Joey I get. He’s frantic for our connection, and I’m right there with him as I pull his shirt up off his body, releasing our mouths for only a second before we both smash our mouths back together again, our tongues caressing and sucking each other’s. Joey’s body falls hard onto mine as he wrestles his belt and suit pants off his body and down his legs.

  I undo my bra and take my panties off, not caring where they land, just content that Joey is on me and will soon be inside me. His intoxicating scent is all around me, providing me comfort and increasing the tension between us.

  Licking and sucking both my nipples while one hand cups my left breast, his other circles my clit. My breath whooshes out of me from the intensity. It only feels this good with him, only ever with Joey.

  Joey stops unexpectedly and looks me straight in the eyes. Expelling a heavy breath, he speaks in a thick voice, “I missed your voice, your humor, your feisty comebacks and these”—Joey runs his thumb over my mouth—“lips, your perfect, soft mouth that drives me crazy, but most of all, I missed your smell.” Joey lowers his head to my neck and inhales deeply. “The smell of home.”

  Tears pool in my eyes and I smile. Pure happiness and contentment floods my heart and soul. Who needs an orgasm when I have these words from the man I love?

  Watching my tears as they trail my cheeks, he asks, “Mine?”

  A happy cry explodes from my mouth, and I answer him, “Always, Joey. I’ll never let go.”

  Joey gives me a peaceful, childlike smile, one, which both breaks and puts my heart back together all at the same time.

  I’m blessed. This hard man chooses me to be himself with. Me to release his demons and show me his vulnerable side, something he hides from the rest of the world and something he was taught never to acknowledge, let alone show to others.

  Joey spreads my legs wide and licks his lips when my pussy is on full display for him.

  Joey’s eyes pin me. “Are you wet for me, Lexi?” he growls.

  Lowering his head, his hot breath on my pussy forces me to arch my back in pleasure as I answer Joey in a breathless voice, “God, yes, I am. I’m so ready for you, Joey.”

  His lips touch my clit, and the heat from his mouth sends tremors through my body. Joey licks and sucks, and I writhe so much that he has to clamp my ass down by pushing on my thighs.

  Each of Joey’s deep groans pushes me closer to exploding. Ecstasy swirls around my body and I know I’m close. Too soon, overwhelming warmth pools in my belly and my walls clench over and over, and I beg my body to hold tight to this euphoric sensation. A long, intense moan escapes my lips, and I pray this moment will stretch on forever.

  Joey licks his lips and gives me a cheeky smile. “I know how to please my girl.”

  I take a slow, deep breath, close my eyes and nod, too content to talk or smile.

  After a moment, I open my eyes, and coming out of my post-orgasm haze, I find Joey staring down at me, his eyes burning with need. “Fuck, I love that look.”

  I wrap my legs around his waist and squeeze. “And I love you. I missed you so much, Joey, every day. Breathing, existing, neither meant a thing to me without you.”

  A lone tear escapes and Joey lowers his head and kisses it away. He places his forehead against mine and clenches his eyes closed, and just above a whisper he says, “I don’t deserve you. How did I get so lucky?”

  I don’t have time to reply because Joey enters me. I gasp and arch my back at the delicious feeling of being filled and stretched by him. Joey begins with slow and gentle thrusts at first and then his pace changes to quick, delicious, hard strokes. His arms wrap around my body in a vise-grip, and Joey sucks firmly on my neck, marking me. The action is possessive, making sure I, and everyone else, recognizes I’m his.

  My breasts flatten between our fast moving, desire-driven, sweaty bodies. Warmth begins to build again and I’m pushed further over the edge by Joey’s sexy groans which send tremors through my body.

  I explode again and this time, it’s with Joey’s name on my lips. Two more thrusts and he’s groaning low and deep, my name whispered on his lips as his eyes close tightly, and he rides out his orgasm.

  The sensation of his hard dick inside me, pulsating with each spurt of his hot seed sends extra shivers through me. Skin against skin, I couldn’t imagine not feeling Joey bare inside of me. With Nick, we always had the extra protection, that extra barrier, but with Joey, the IUD was enough. I craved Joey. I had to have all of him.

  Joey rolls off me, but stays close. He fits me under his shoulder with my head resting on his chest and his chin resting on my forehead.

  For a while, we just lie there, content in each other’s arms. When I start feeling myself drift off, I ask, “What now?”

  “I think we should figure out a way for you to go back home, get you away from Michael.” Joey’s voice sounds weak and unsure. I can tell he’s saying what he thinks he should, not what he wants.

  I shake my head, frustrated, and sit up. When will this man realize what’s right in front of him? A woman so in love with him that I’m willing to go through one-hundred bad days as long as Joey is beside me for every one of those days.

  I grasp Joey’s hand in mine tightly. “Wherever you are is my home,” I say with conviction behind my words. “I promise to never let go, but you need to start putting us first. It's you and me against the world. I’m sick of being a spectator while you punish yourself and follow through with this foolhardy plan to destroy any future threats. If you’re going to continue on this path, Joey, then from this day forward, I’m at your back, and you’ll let me help us get a better life, once and for all.”

  Joey sighs, realizing I’m not going anywhere. “I want you here with me, more than anything. To be honest, I was hoping you’d insist on staying. I’m not strong enough to force you away from me again.”

  “I love your weakness for me,” I say with a smile.

  “Weakness not to want you far, but not to protect you,” Joey pledges.

  “Your uncle told me himself that I am his power over you. Is there something he wants you to do that you’ve refused so far?”

  Joey scoffs, “He can try, and no, just drug runs and meetings with high-profile traffickers, so far that’s been it, a walk in the park compared to what my father had me doing. Something tells me my uncle doesn’t see the truth when it comes to me. He’s blinded by the blood t
hat flows through my veins. Right now, he thinks of me more of a son to him than his own. He believes I came to him after my father died out of loyalty to our birth name, to work and carry on the family name. He’s as fucked up as my father was.”

  Joey turns on his side, his chest facing me, and with his fingers, he grips my chin and tips my face up to meet his. “He knows we’re close and after my actions today, he realizes how much I care about you, but let’s keep the rest a secret. Let him think Gabrielle is still who I go to for pleasure. The more secrets we have from Michael, the more leverage we have against him.”

  “Okay,” I say softly, biting my lower lip, worrying how all this will turn out, and praying it won’t end with Joey hurt or worse.

  He must think I’m scared because he says, “I promise I can protect you here. You just have to do as I say. People will die if you're harmed,” he vows.

  I nod, understanding the weight of Joey’s words and the truth behind them. People have already died for touching me, so I’ve no doubt he will do it again. Our passion bound us together, but our love is why I will sin for this man, why I will always be by his side.

  Chapter Seven

  Help

  Alexa

  I wake to soft sheets and warm morning light shining on my face. My eyes open reluctantly, and when they do, my first sight of the day is Joey’s muscular back, glistening with drops of water and a towel sitting low around his waist. He’s leaning with his hip on the balcony railing, looking out at the vast ocean. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking. I bet he’s berating himself for allowing me to stay.

  As if sensing my eyes on him, he turns and finds me awake and watching. His lip's tip up slightly, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

  I sigh. Only being awake for a moment, I can already sense how worried he is for me, feeling as if he’s dooming me somehow.

  “What?” Joey asks as he comes to sit beside me on the bed.

  “You’re still worried about me staying, but I know you aren’t going to let me go. How are you struggling so much now, yet you did it so easily in Minnesota?”