by Anna Brooks
Embarrassed, I steer the topic away from me. “Your mom was gorgeous.”
His face lights up. “She was.”
“Tell me about her.”
“She was amazing. At the end of the day or when she came home from a trip, she always gave me her undivided attention. Well”—he chuckles—“that is, when my dad wasn’t distracting her.” His fingers stop their movement, and he rolls to his back. “I always thought it was so gross how much they were all over each other, but now I know why my dad was like that with her.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I feel it with you. The need to protect, to love, to possess. The feeling that if I’m not touching you, somebody is going to take you away from me. The desire to be inside you every minute of the day even when I’m asleep. I’m tamping down the rage to kill the fucker who put his hands on you. I’m afraid that you’ll wake up one day and realize you’ve settled for a piece of shit like me. And I feel like the luckiest man in the world when you smile at me.”
“I feel the same, ya know?”
“That’s good, baby, ’cause I’ve never come close to feeling what I do for you.” He glances at the bruise on my face. “I’ve got a lot of resentment and anger built up, but I’ve never thought about taking somebody’s life before, and I swear if I get my hands on that fucker, I don’t think I could stop until he wasn’t breathing.”
“That’s really sweet, and a little scary at the same time, that you want to kill somebody.”
“Someone who was going to hurt my woman. Someone who kicked her so hard he broke a rib. Someone who bruised her beautiful face and caused her skin to split open. Yeah, I’d have no problem ending that someone’s life.”
With each word he speaks, his voice gets tighter, and my fear jumps a notch higher. “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this.”
Lines crease between his brows, and he tilts his head. “Are you afraid of me?” He doesn’t let me answer. “I’d never, ever hurt you, Polly. You have to know that.”
“I do,” I quickly assure him. “I do know that. But it doesn’t change the fact that hearing you so adamant about murder is a little scary.”
“You asked about my mom and what she was like. Well, as much as I loved her and as perfect as she was, I was closer to my father. I wanted to be him when I grew up. In my eyes, he was a step above a superhero. It’s hard to only remember him as that, though, because sometimes I think he’s the biggest coward for ending his own life. But he fucking loved my mother. He lived to make her happy and to protect her. I saw him take out men who tried to come after her and heard the threats he promised them with. He never went anywhere without a hand on her, and when she was working, his eyes were glued to her.”
“I get that, but she was a celebrity.”
His stubble sounds like sandpaper when he rubs his chin. “Doesn’t matter. She was my father’s wife. He loved her because of who she was, not because of her career choice. But I know that no matter how pissed off he was, he’d never hurt her. Just like I would never hurt you.”
“I know.” I yawn and try to cover it up, but he sees and reaches over to shut the lamp off before he plasters himself next to me. “Night, baby.”
Those are the last words I hear until I can’t breathe anymore. I shoot up in bed and suck in a breath so big my lungs feel like they’ll explode, then I wince at the pain in my side.
“Shit, Polls, you okay?”
“Yeah.” I’m practically panting. “I had a bad dream. I never have bad dreams.”
Erik’s hand caresses my back, and I regain my bearings as he transfers his strength to me. “What was it about?”
“It was confusing. I don’t remember details. But I was running and fell in the parking lot, and that’s what woke me up.”
As my breathing slows down, his speeds up. “Dammit.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him, then kiss his cheek. “Let’s go back to sleep.”
He supports my back as I lie down and then settles even closer than before. His lips tickle my neck, and after one final kiss, he rests his head on the pillow next to me. He falls asleep right away, and I stare at the ceiling all night. Now wide awake, I wrestle with my demons and try to keep them away.
Morning comes too fast… or not fast enough, depending on which way you want to look at it. I try to slide out from under Erik’s arm, but the guy’s so damn big it barely budges. When he grinds his morning wood against my thigh, my belly instantly flutters.
“Mornin’, baby.”
I would answer him except his fingers are swirling around my breasts, his thumb grazing over the hardened nipples. Ever so gently, he traces a path down the front of my cami to the hem and then slides his hand beneath the fabric.
My hips flex when he continues going south. So lightly I barely feel it, he runs his talented fingers between my legs, teasing me through the material covering me. He glides the tip of his index finger over and over, applying a little more pressure and then taking it away.
“God, Erik.” I moan and try to press into his hand.
“Shh. Let me play for a bit.” He moves to the end of the bed and instead of spreading my legs, he pushes them together and straddles them. Without another word, he goes back to what he was doing and holy shit, I almost explode with the first touch. The left side of his lips tilts up into a smirk and he watches his finger trace torturous circles.
He uses his other hand to tease me above the waist, tweaking and caressing my nipples. The pressure of my thighs being forced together is driving me insane. I can feel the wetness between my legs soaking my panties. I try to get more from him, but he’s so damn strong I can barely move.
I lose his hand and cry out in protest, but he pinches my nipple, reminding me he’s still there. He leans farther over me then opens a drawer in the nightstand.
When he flicks open a knife, I screech. I know he wouldn’t hurt me, but I still feel a little trepidation. When he resumes his previous position, he removes his fingers from my breast and replaces them with his mouth. A mewl escapes me when he wets the material and then blows on it.
“Jesus, Erik.”
He sits back up and lifts my thong in the front. Slicing it in half with the knife, he exposes my throbbing clit. “That’s what I wanted to see,” he mumbles to himself. A flick of his wrist puts the blade back into the knife then he tosses it on the floor. Still keeping my lower half unmovable, he slides his finger between my folds and gathers some moisture there before he spreads it around on my clit.
“Damn, that’s good.” I fall all the way back on the bed, and as the pressure increases, the buildup that he’s been teasing me with for the past twenty-five minutes finally explodes when he pinches my clit and slides just the tip of his finger inside me.
“Fuck, you’re so hot when you come.” He lifts away from me and tosses my legs apart, ridding me of the scrap of fabric, and then slams two fingers inside as I’m still coming down from that orgasm. “Give me another one.” He puts his mouth over me, and it’s almost too intense. I push his head away, and he looks up. “Too much?”
“Yeah, shit.” I have an arm thrown over my eyes, so I don’t see it when he removes his hand and replaces it with his tongue. “Oh, my God.” I sit up to watch because it’s so damn sexy. The pain in my side is non-existent with his mouth on me like this.
With my butt in his hands, he lifts me and holds my folds open as he fucks me with his tongue. “I want you to come on my mouth, baby. Wanna taste it while my tongue is still inside your pretty pussy.”
I don’t think I fully came down from the first orgasm he gave me, so when he dives back in and works his magic, I’m happy to oblige. He moans louder than I do and presses his mouth against me so hard I’m worried he’s not going to be able to breathe. He finally comes up for air, and when he does, his facial hair is glistening from my juices.
My eyes widen at the sight, and I don’t know if it’s sexy or embarrassing. He licks his lips, and I decide it’s sexy. “What th
e hell was that?” I ask, my body still trembling.
“That’s how I want to wake up every morning.”
He palms his dick, the angry head sticking out from the waistband of his boxer briefs. I motion toward me. “Come here.”
“Nope. You’re still sore. I’m not fucking you yet.”
“Let me.”
“Let you what?”
He’s going to make me say it. “Suck… you.”
“What part of me?” He saunters over, and as he does, he glides his thumb between my folds and then presses it to my mouth. “This part?” He pushes it in, and as I lick off my essence from him, the fire brews in my belly again. It’s like the song of orgasms that doesn’t end. I shake my head and reach out to trace my fingers over his dick. He presses into my hand. “This? You want my cock in your mouth, Polly?”
With a pop, he pulls his thumb out, and I nod. I’m about to sit up, but he tsks me. “Turn your head, baby, and open for me.” I do just that and he slides the tip inside my mouth. Then he pulls out and goes back in a little deeper. He does it again and again until I gag. He slides back and then really fucks my mouth, knowing how much I can take.
I rub my thighs together, and out of nowhere, he gives a little smack to my pussy. I squeak as best as I can with a mouth full of cock. “If you didn’t have enough, I’ll give you more. You just worry about keeping that mouth open for me.”
God, I love how dirty he is. I spread my legs open for him, begging for more. He presses the pad of his hand flat on my mound and teases my opening with the tips of his fingers, rubbing harder and faster as he fucks my mouth the same way.
I moan around him, and he suddenly pulls out. “Stick your tongue out, baby.” Another orgasm rolls through me as he comes on my tongue, half of it dripping onto the floor, the other half I’m able to swallow from the position I’m in. I grab his wrist and flex my hips into his hand and can’t help the shudders rolling through me as I ride the rest of the wave.
He drops to his knees, and I finally release the death grip I have on his arm. After we catch our breaths, he leans over and kisses me before he disappears into the bathroom. A moment later, he returns with a wet cloth. As he’s cleaning me up, I get choked up. The way he makes me feel, both physically and emotionally, and the stresses of the past few days, finally surface. I’ve been trying to avoid it and just pretend it didn’t happen, but I can’t anymore.
When he hears me whimper, he drops the washcloth. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“No. I’m just… just emotional.”
I roll into him when he lies next to me, sore rib be damned, and let him hold me. I need his reassurance right now, and as I listen to him promise me things I never thought could be possible for a girl like me, I believe him.
* * *
“That’s him.” I nod at the man through the glass and turn to Detective Manor.
“Are you positive? You said in your statement that it was dark.”
“I’m positive. It might have been dark, but I recognize him.” The damn recognition is what’s given me a nightmare three times now. Hopefully, knowing he’s locked up will make them go away.
“Very well, then.”
Erik’s arm around me tightens, and he steers me out of the room. “So what’s next?” I ask Detective Manor as we walk down the hallway.
“I’m going to have you sign a statement before you leave, and that should be the end of it for you. With the other charges we have him on, I don’t believe you’re going to have to testify. But if that changes, I’ll be in touch.”
We follow him to his office and sit while he types up something. Erik’s arm around my shoulder is protective and makes me feel safe even though I’m in a police station. It’s only been a week and a half since I left the hospital, but it seems like yesterday. Through the video surveillance, they pieced together that it was, in fact, the man who’d been hanging around downtown for a while now. It wasn’t hard for them to locate him by the river. Case should be pretty open and shut.
After signing the papers, Erik and I walk out to his car where he drives us back to his place. I go right to the bedroom where I change from my UGGs into a pair of more comfortable shoes.
“What are you doing?” he asks me.
“Getting ready for work.”
“You’re not going to work.”
I finish tying my shoe and stand. Of course, when I do it, I straighten my spine too fast and get a pinch in my sore rib. Unsuccessfully, I hide a wince.
“Exactly, babe.”
“Erik. I’m fine. It’s been a week and a half.”
He puts gentle hands on my shoulders and bends at the knees to be eye level with me. “I know you’re not used to this, but when we agreed to do us, that meant that you agreed to let me look out for you.”
“You can look out for me without telling me what to do.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off me. “How are you supposed to carry a tray?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“No, you won’t. The doctor said it’d be three weeks minimum. It’s been half that. Just rest for another week or so, and then you’ll be good as new, okay?”
It’s embarrassing to admit this, but I do anyway. “I’m on a payment plan with my car repairs, and I’m already behind. I need the money. My rent is due in a week and a half, and my electric bill is sitting on my kitchen counter waiting to be paid.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He ushers me to the edge of the bed where we sit down. “I guess I didn’t make myself clear, and for that, I’m sorry. But when I said I would take care of you, that meant financially, too.”
My pride creeps up, but before it fully envelops my body, he puts a finger over my mouth.
“I’m not saying you’re an invalid or that you’re not capable. What I’m saying is, you don’t need to worry about that kind of stuff anymore. I’ve got more than enough money to last us a lifetime.” He rubs his thumb and pointer finger on his chin as he contemplates something. “Do you want to go back to your apartment?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean to live. I’d really like you to stay here with me, but I understand if you want to keep your own space. Granted, you’ll never sleep there alone, but if you want to keep it, I understand. But I’d really rather just have you live here with me.”
I want to say yes. That I should go back just to assert myself as independent, but that would be a lie. It’s not just because I don’t want to be alone, though; it’s because I want to be with him. I know what I’m capable of now. I know that I can support myself. What more do I have to prove?
When I rest my head on his shoulder, he adjusts his arm around my back so I can lean into him more. “No. I really don’t.”
“Where do you want to be?”
“With you.”
“Good.” He kisses the top of my head. “I want that, too.”
Chapter 13
Erik
“Hi, Erik.”
I nod at Rayne as I walk into The Lunchbox and take my seat at the table by the door. It’s been over a month since Polly’s attack, and we’ve been back at Complexity for a couple of weeks now. I’m glad Brad didn’t give me shit for not working while she was recovering because she comes first, always. So I wouldn’t have thought twice about telling him to go fuck himself. I’ve got so much damn money from my parents’ inheritances that I don’t even know what to do with it. Work isn’t something I’d ever have to do if I didn’t want to.
When my bank statement comes every month, I look at all the zeroes and wish I could trade them in for my family. I’d give anything to have them back. The feeling of isolation sucks, and I think that might be part of the reason Polly and I click so well; we understand what it’s like to be truly alone. And we don’t want to be that anymore. We’re not.
When she works at the restaurant, I drop her off, do some work on my laptop and make some calls to The Firm, and then go work out before picking her up. I’ve gotten back into a rou
tine and have been able to manage everything fine. Being busy is good because I haven’t even thought about or craved alcohol. I won’t deny I had an issue with it, but it was a coping mechanism more than an addiction. I knew if I threw back enough of it, I’d eventually become numb. And the hangovers were a reminder that I deserved to be miserable because I stooped so damn low as to get myself in that position in the first place.
Polly’s probably saved my life and doesn’t even realize it.
I love the time we get to spend after her shift at the diner because it’s so… domesticated. It reminds me of how I grew up. We go back home to eat dinner, usually takeout, and relax a bit if we’re going to Complexity. Otherwise, we just hang at the house, which is totally fine by me. I’d spend every waking moment with her if I could.
“Hey.”
Polly walks to me and leans down to kiss me hello. It’s only been about four and a half hours, but I’ve missed her like crazy. I love how when we’re together she wants to be close, too. It’s not just one-sided. She tells me how she feels, but her actions reassure me that her words are true.
I lick my lips as I pull away, wishing I could get more than just a quick taste. “Hey, beautiful.”
“I’m done. You ready?”
“Yep.” Our fingers automatically link together as we say goodbye to Rayne and walk to the parking lot. “How are you feeling?”
“Good, actually. Not sore at all.” I’m glad to hear that, since tonight is going to be busy as hell.
I open the car door for her, and after she gets in, I walk around to my side. I plop my ass in the leather seat and slide the key into the ignition. As soon as I take off, I rest my hand on her thigh.
“You know that I love you for wanting to be my chauffeur, but I can drive, Erik.”
The logical part of me knows that she didn’t even realize what she just said, but the part of me that’s been a fucked-up mess since she came into my life makes me want to have her say it again and again. I want to have those words come out of her mouth when I’m inside her and before I fall asleep. I want to wake up to her whispering them in my ear. And I want to say them to her because I really do love her. So damn much. But I don’t want to freak her out, so I don’t say it, and I don’t acknowledge that she just said I love you so casually.