by Lucia Grace
“Fuck, I can’t wait to feast on your sweet pussy, angel. Worship and devour you.”
And as if he didn’t just rock my world or utter those last words, he flips my skirt down that was lifted at my waist to cover me, settles his big body between me and the back of the couch, and wraps me up in his arms tight and secure.
Right where I belong.
Where I fall asleep feeling safe and cherished for the first time…ever.
In Front of Rhett’s Condo
I WATCHED HER WALK THROUGH his door. Her hand in his.
She smiled up at him as if he hung the moon. He kept close, protectively.
Acting as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
While I sit here. Waiting.
Watching.
Alone.
Because of her.
He was supposed to be mine, but she ruined that.
So now, I’m out to ruin her.
THE EARLY MORNING SUN JUST barely filters through the blinds in the windows of my bedroom as I lay in my king-sized bed, Kennedy wrapped up tight to my chest.
I’ve never felt more whole than I do right now. Never felt so content and right.
After she fell asleep in my arms on the couch last night, I watched her sleep for close to an hour. Her face relaxed in sleep, the stress and shame and fear from our talk gone. Then carefully, I stood from the sectional with her in my arms and carried her up the stairs to my bedroom.
She never even stirred, the events of the day wiping her out completely.
As I laid her amongst the dark sheets of my bed, I stared for a good five minutes more, unable to take my eyes off of her sheer beauty, before texting Saylor to let her know Kennedy wouldn’t be making it home—to which she replied inappropriately, as expected. Then I stripped down to my boxers and crawled in behind my angel, her back to my chest. Wanting her in my arms again. Needing to feel her against me, knowing that she’s safe.
Her panic attack at the shop followed by everything she shared with me cycled through my mind on a loop. Unable to sleep or relax or completely enjoy the feel of Kennedy asleep in my arms for the first time because I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about the way she fell apart when my client spoke to her. Or how ashamed and broken she looked when she recounted what happened to her at the hands of a foster father.
The motherfucking prick.
My moods kept shifting from rage-inducing anger with fire lighting up my veins to soul-crushing sorrow and unbelievable pain that the girl I’m falling head-over-fucking-heels for has endured so goddamn much in her life.
It isn’t fair, isn’t right, that someone so good has had to suffer so much. That she’s had to live her life feeling ashamed, feeling unworthy, chasing it all away and trying to find something with fuckers that didn’t realize the absolute perfection they had.
My skin simmers as my blood boils thinking of it all over again.
But then I look down—and not caring that I sound like a damn pussy—my heart skips a beat. And I forget everything except for her, for this moment, holding her in my arms.
Then my thoughts shift to the end of the night, before she fell asleep, when she fell apart at the touch of my fingers alone.
My already morning wood hardens further at remembering how soft, tight, and wet she was. My mouth salivates. Remembering the taste of her that I greedily sucked from my fingers. Already wanting more and more.
Anticipating the day she lets me put my tongue on her. In her. All fucking over her.
Breathing deep through my nose, I try to settle down. My blood pumping for whole new reasons now.
After a few deep breaths, my dick and raging pulse both settle enough so I don’t scare her when she finally wakes up.
Sometime in the night, when I was able to unwind enough to catch a couple hours of sleep, Kennedy shifted and turned to face me, wrapping an arm tight around my waist and tucking her face into my chest. Which meant as soon as I opened my eyes, they were met with the stunning natural beauty that’s all her.
Something I could damn well get used to. Something I hope to God will be a regular occurrence.
As we’re lying cuddled up, I run the hand I had wrapped around her waist to keep her close along her back. Tracing my fingertips along the cotton of her top, wishing I was touching bare skin instead.
Then, before I can move, a small moan pierces the air and she shifts to her back, lifting her arms above her head to stretch. Exposing a sliver of flawless tan skin as her shirt rides up. Making my heart beat harder and causing blood flow to travel south. Then, as if she didn’t just wreck me with that little moan and a peek at her bare skin, she settles back to her side to lay her cheek to my chest once again. The action natural, like she’s done it a million times before.
Damn well feels like she has.
Two heart beats pass before she realizes there’s bare skin beneath her. She freezes. Until she must realize it’s me because she relaxes but still lifts and begins to pull away slowly. Sitting up next to me. Hesitance and grace.
As she moves, I take her in. Her hair is in slight disarray, the long locks a bit tangled and mussed. The clothes I never stripped her from in a bid to be respectful are slightly disheveled and wrinkled. Her cheeks are rosy and flushed from sleep. Her eyes heavy-lidded from just waking up.
But nothing has ever been more gorgeous than her right now. Goddamn.
Her eyes flutter and blink in an attempt to rid the sleep from them, squinting at the small amount of light floating into the room.
I can’t help but smirk at how adorable she is. “Mornin’, angel.”
As soon as her eyes open fully and meet my brown ones she startles. Plump, pale pink lips falling open. “Wh-what…?” Clearing her throat, she tries again. “What am I doing up here?” Her voice holding a bit more rasp and husk than usual due to sleep.
I am not going to survive how goddamn sexy she is.
“You fell asleep on the couch. Wouldn’t have been comfortable all night and I didn’t want to wake you to bring you home. So I made the executive decision to bring you up here so we could both sleep.” I end on a shrug.
And I never want you to fucking leave.
“Oh,” she mutters, shocked. Blinking as she looks around my room. “Thank you…?” Her tone puzzled, making it sound like a question, when her tired eyes make it back to me.
“No thanks needed, angel. Getting to sleep with you wrapped up in my arms is plenty thanks enough.” I offer her an easy smile. Trying to charm and flirt.
Her already-flushed cheeks darken to a deeper shade of pink, driving me wild, as her full bottom lip gets trapped between her teeth.
It’s then I notice her eyes don’t leave my face, and I put two-and-two together.
I’m not wearing a shirt. Or pants for that matter.
“Need me to put a shirt on?” I flex as her gaze instinctively drops to my bare chest.
Caught, she splutters. “What? Nuh-no. Not necessary. Really.” Scrambling to move as if she suddenly realized she was sitting on a bed with a half-naked man.
Her frazzled state has me laughing out loud, and at hearing it, she stops her escape and looks over to me. Smiling sweetly. “I don’t think I’ve ever really heard you laugh before,” she whispers, then pauses before saying, “I like it.”
Fuck, this girl—my girl. I’m never letting her go. Ever.
“I’ll be sure to do it more for you then, angel.”
Her head bobs slightly in a nod, face still flushed. Then she yawns.
“Sleep okay?” I ask, concerned, inching up to lean my back against the headboard. Not taking my eyes off of her. From what I remember, she didn’t stir all night.
A small fist lifts to rub the last bits of sleep from her eyes. Then she’s looking over at me. Sitting cross-legged no more than a foot away, she never made it very far.
As I watch her, I don’t think she’s ever been so comfortable around me. Even on our date and the days since she agreed to give this a go. Even last night when I was maki
ng her scream. There’s always been a bit of carefulness, her guard always up, but this morning it seems to be all gone. At least for now.
She hesitates, thinking over her answer, before she just goes for it. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept better.”
I smile then, a tip of my lips. “Glad to hear it, angel. Couldn’t agree more.”
Silence fills the space between us then. A tender smile now on her face. I can’t keep my eyes off of her. Or my thoughts for that matter. Because as we sit here and my eyes trace every feature from head to toe, my thoughts run wild with memories of last night.
Her moans and breathless gasps.
Her greedy mouth and even greedier pussy.
The lust and chemistry and need.
How she clutched and shattered from my fingers alone.
I don’t know if she can see the heat and want in my eyes or if her thoughts trailed back to last night on her own, but she shifts and I know. I’d bet my fucking life on it.
She’s remembering it all, too.
Her cheeks are flushed pink. Her hands fidgeting in her lap. That damn lip of hers is back between her teeth.
My chest puffs with pride, and my dick hardens with need.
“Can’t stop thinking about making you come, angel.” My voice almost feral it’s so deep. Her head snaps up from watching her fingers, pale green eyes now right on me. “Want more of that. Whenever you’re ready to give it to me. I want to taste you, devour you. Watch you scream and writhe and fucking need me. Want to watch you fall over that ledge over and over again.”
I’m done holding back. Keeping my thoughts and wants to myself. After this last week, especially after last night, I’m barreling forward. Making it more than known that she’s mine and I’m taking it all with her—from her.
“But more than that.” I drop my voice. Soft. Tender. Sitting up and letting the sheet pool at my waist as I reach over to place my hand to her bare thigh. “I just want more of you, angel.”
Her chest heaves, lifting her pert breasts rapidly. I swear I can see her heart beating inside her chest.
“I know this is fast, angel. I understand that and realize that I may sound fucking crazy. But after last night, after knowing what you taste like, what you sound like when you come, and after waking up with you in my arms tucked into my chest, there is no possible fucking way I can let you go now. That I could ever walk away. That I could ever accept being anything less than all fucking in with you. Have been since I walked into In Ruins almost a month ago and saw you standing there. Nothing but beauty and light and fucking goodness radiating off of you. Knowing that every direction and turn in my life led me to that moment. Straight to you. Because you’re mine.”
My heart’s racing, pulse thrumming. My goddamn soul chasing after hers.
“I’m here, right here, angel.” I pound a fist to my chest. “This is legit, one hundred percent real. I may have never done this before, but that’s how I know it’s fucking real. That I won’t flake or bail or abandon you. And we’ll take it as slow or as fast as you want—need. Baby steps. Giant leaps. I don’t fucking care as long as I’m taking them with you.”
Leaning forward on my knees, I grab Kennedy’s hand to pull her up with me. The top of her head to my chin. My hands lift to cup her gorgeous face.
“Put me out of my misery, angel. Be my girl, completely and wholeheartedly. One hundred percent. Mine.”
Silence wraps around us, and my nerves go haywire.
I drop my forehead to hers, silently pleading for her to say yes.
When I can’t take the quiet for a second longer, I utter the only words I can think of to pull her back to the moment.
“Give me a truth, angel.”
She pulls back slightly, trembling hands lifting to grab my wrists. Wide eyes locked on mine. Mouth parted, her breathing escalated.
She hesitates a second longer. Then she fucking obliterates me. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you…us.” Her words are fragile, tender and soft, afraid that if she speaks them too loudly that they’ll shatter.
But there’s no way in hell I’ll let us fall apart.
Not wasting another second, my lips crash down on hers. Taking.
Claiming.
Owning.
Mine.
Sliding my hands down her neck to her shoulders, then dropping my arms to wrap around her waist, I pull her in tightly before falling to my back. Her on top of me. The rumpled blankets surrounding us.
We kiss and take and devour. Frantic to slow to tender. Then she pulls away, out of breath.
“Give me a truth.” Her tone breathless.
My arms tighten around her. Bringing her impossibly closer.
We’re face-to-face, so I run my nose along hers. Not needing to take the time to answer, just wanting to soak her up.
“You’ve just made me happier than I’ve ever been.”
THE PARKING LOT BEHIND IN Ruins doesn’t house a single car but instead holds almost two hundred people mingling, eating, and drinking. A large, white tent covers everyone, protecting them from the stifling late-July sun.
The Blues and Brews charity event has been hosted by In Ruins for an entire decade now. For ten whole years, Gus—with the help of Saylor and Rhett—has hosted this event that raises money and awareness for local charities supporting kids such as the neighborhood Big Brothers branch, after-school programs, and a group home that fosters kids in the system.
It all started when Saylor was sixteen. Rhett was eighteen and had been working for Gus for a handful of years and less than a year prior had moved himself and Saylor into the apartment across from Gus’s. It was then Saylor revealed the bullying she witnessed, that affected even her, all because kids weren’t wearing the latest trends or couldn’t participate in school activities because their families couldn’t afford it.
She wanted to help, so Gus called everyone he knew to get something together. And stopped Rhett from killing everyone who ever hurt his sister.
It’s been a hit ever since.
At hearing that, and knowing it benefited a foster house, I immediately knew that I had to help and participate as much as I could. I couldn’t afford a lot monetarily, but I could volunteer to work that day and do anything else they needed of me. I just knew I was meant to help.
Not long after I moved to Sunvale, talk and chatter started up with the approach of the event, and I was eager to learn more about it. So one day while I was working, Saylor and Gus explained how it’s a huge gathering in town that everyone looks forward to. The music and beer combo being a big hit. It draws in a large crowd and a lot of money. All proceeds from the cover charge and the cost of food and alcohol all being donated and allocated accordingly.
It may be a little unorthodox to have an event set solely around music and beer set up to raise money for kids, but it works. Gus, Saylor, and Rhett—along with Nash—work hard to make it successful. And when the programs and charities receive their checks, they aren’t complaining. They’re just happy to get any help they can.
I make my way through the mass of people, tray in hand, passing out more drinks, picking up the empties as I go.
The live band thrums and beats as the crowd listens and dances on. Nothing but smiling faces, happy to drink and eat the day away all in the name of charity.
I smile as I go, stopping on occasion to talk to the locals I’ve come to know from their frequent stops at the bar.
As I make a stop at the portable bar set up outside for the event, Rhett catches my eye across the tent as he stands there with Nash, chatting with patrons.
Every year since he’s owned Inked Souls he’s closed up shop for the entire day to make himself available to help. Knowing he has a hand in this event, that he has for the last ten years and that he helped choose what the monies benefited, makes me fall even farther for him. Not that I had far to go at this point. I’ve pretty much been fallen since day one, just never wanting to admit it.
As I appreciate
his handsomeness from afar, I can’t help but think of how it felt to wake up in his arms, pressed against his bare, tattooed chest only a few days ago.
At first I was disoriented from sleep, not knowing where I was, startled that I was lying on a hard chest in an unknown bed. Then it hit me, his strong masculine yet clean scent. Rhett. And then I remembered where I was the night before and was startled for a whole new reason.
Because lying there with him felt so good and right, like I belonged. And I wanted more.
And then, he changed my world forever by asking me to be his.
As scared as I was—as I still am—it was the easiest answer I’d ever given.
Because being his comes as easy as breathing.
It’s just meant to be. I can feel it in my bones, down deep in my soul. This man won’t hurt me. He won’t use me or abandon me. Not like the men of my past and everything I’ve ever been used to. I know it, because he’s real and true.
He’s the best choice I ever made.
“I think it’s you drooling this time, girlie,” Saylor jokes, breaking me from my ogling of her brother.
“What?” My tone distracted.
“When I catch Rhett staring at you from the bar, I’m always teasing the big oaf that he’s drooling. But I think it’s you this time, doll.” She winks and sasses.
I can feel the blush take over my cheeks. Not only at being caught, but knowing Rhett gets caught staring at me, too.
“Yeah, well…” I shrug my shoulders, not even knowing what to say. Shaking my head, I quietly laugh at myself. I can’t hide it now. “To be honest, I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”
“Oh, girl.” Saylor joins in, now laughing with me. “Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of. My brother’s a good-lookin’ man. Plus, he’s yours. So ogle away.” She winks as she smiles before sashaying away, tray in hand. Grabbing the eyes of practically every man she struts by, Nash included.
Sighing, I bite my bottom lip. My eyes tracking right back to Rhett yet again.
Mine. He really is.
I never could have imagined that by moving here to get away from my past, to run from all of the bad decisions I made, that I’d find exactly what I said I’d swear off until I could stand on my own two feet. Until I found my worth in myself and not in using men. With moving here, I found my heart and soul, the man I’m trying so desperately to go slowly with because I know I’m going to love him. There’s no way I can’t.