Reviving Bianca

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Reviving Bianca Page 9

by Becca Jameson


  He reached her ear, flicked his tongue over the lobe, and then whispered, “It’s too bad you’re not interested in me. I’d hate to think what it would be like between us if you actually liked me.”

  She stiffened slightly and attempted to pull away from him, but he held her close, not letting her escape just yet. She tipped her head down and set her forehead against his chest, breathing heavily.

  He ran his hands up and down her slight frame, his chin resting on top of her head. “How many men have you kissed?” he asked, partially because he felt confident of the answer, but he wanted to hear it. Or maybe he wanted to pump his chest out a bit further. It thrilled him to the core to know he was the only man who had ever gotten this close to her.

  Jesus. She was twenty-seven years old. That was a long time to hold men at arm’s length in order to protect herself from being vulnerable. He felt a mixture of sadness and conquest at the same time.

  She didn’t answer him.

  Finally he stroked one hand up her back and threaded his fingers in her hair at her neck. He gently tipped her head back. She didn’t meet his gaze.

  “Honey…”

  Finally, she blew out a breath and looked at him. “None. Happy now?”

  He smiled. “Ecstatic.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get cocky.”

  He leaned closer, kissed the tip of her nose, and shrugged. “Can’t help it. Guys like this sort of thing.”

  “Scarred virgins with enough physical and emotional baggage to fill a truck?” At least she had a small sense of humor.

  He shook his head. “Knowing every little whimper and sigh that comes from your mouth is mine. I did that. No one else. I won’t ever take it for granted.”

  She glanced away. “Don’t get all macho on me.”

  He eased his hand from her neck to her cheek and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I promise I will never intentionally do anything to make you feel like you aren’t one hundred percent in control. You need to know that you’re allowed to say no at any time. Stop me if I go too far.”

  “I already don’t feel in control,” she murmured.

  That didn’t help his cock out one bit, considering the obvious innuendo. “Good. I’ve done my job for the day.” He smiled broadly. “Now stop stuffing things in a bag with some nonsense plan to move to another room in the house. I like having you close to me. I wouldn’t be able to sleep one minute if you were in another room.”

  She swallowed, staring hard into his eyes. “I’m not sure how I feel right now, Gray. It’s more than I can process.”

  Oh, how he loved it when she called him Gray. She always did it in a soft tone that indicated she was his at that moment. “That’s okay. Take all the time in the world to think about it. But know that I’m right here with you. I will earn your trust. And I swear on my life I will not ever raise a hand to you.”

  “I don’t know if I can give you what you’re asking for, Gray.”

  He kissed her lips gently again. “And that’s not a deal breaker either. I’m not asking for a lifetime right now. I’m asking for a chance. Baby steps. We kissed. It was wonderful. We’ll do it again whenever you want. I’m not asking for more right now.”

  She swallowed, her eyes still wide, her lips parted.

  He ran his thumb along the bottom one again to remind her how it felt.

  She sighed, leaning closer to him. Blessed angels.

  “The emotional damage you’ve experienced has scared you. But I want you to think about something. Whoever hit you still has power over you. Don’t you see that?”

  “Of course he doesn’t. Don’t be ridiculous. I left my home when I was eighteen and never looked back. I’ve stayed under the radar for nine years—nineteen by his calendar—to ensure he never finds me. I’d do anything to make sure he never touches me again.”

  Grayson startled at her words. So much information at once. For one thing, now he knew her abuse happened before she was an adult. Her father? But more importantly, she wasn’t rid of him. She lived in fear that he could come after her again. Jesus.

  He wanted information, but he didn’t want to drive her away by requesting it. Too much too soon would alienate her. So, instead, he stuck to the original issue. Power. “Honey, listen to yourself. He’s controlling you every day for as long as you don’t allow yourself to move on. Whoever this man is, would he want you to be happy and well-adjusted?”

  Her face scrunched. “No. He’d want me to be sad and alone and pitiful and useless and submissive and uneducated and demure. Because he’s an asshole.”

  “Well, you aren’t uneducated, demure, or submissive, so you’ve beaten him in those areas. But you are alone. You haven’t permitted yourself to live. He’s still controlling you from wherever he is.” Apparently not dead or in jail if she’s still worried about him. Though anything was possible after ten years.

  She blinked at him. “Maybe you’re right. You left off sad and pitiful, though. And I don’t see how it matters. It changes nothing.”

  “I left off sad and pitiful because I don’t see you that way. You do in your mind, but no one else does. And it matters a great deal because you’re letting this man keep you from enjoying life. Honey, he’s keeping you from having a healthy relationship, or fuck, any relationship at all. Why do you give him that power?”

  She stared at Grayson for a long time, her eyes watering slightly. Her bottom lip trembled, so he slid his thumb over to stroke the flesh yet again, swollen from his kisses. She shuddered. “What you’re saying makes sense. I never thought of it that way. Give me some time to wrap my head around it.”

  “Of course.” He kissed her lips gently once more. “Have I not made it clear that I would give you anything?”

  She slowly smiled. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

  “Can I ask you to do one thing for me?”

  She winced. “Depends.”

  “Admit out loud that you’re attracted to me. Admit to me and to yourself that we are not just friends. Give me that one thing.”

  She swallowed, her expression serious as he watched her face. Her eyes darted back and forth between his and then she slid her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  He lifted a brow. Please God.

  “We’re not just friends,” she murmured.

  He blew out a breath, let his eyes slide closed, and hauled her against his chest, his hand cupping the back of her head as he pressed her cheek to his pecs. He kissed the top of her head and then released her, stepping back but still gripping her shoulders. “Does my sister know anything I don’t about you?”

  Bianca thought for a moment. “Cindy shared a lot of things with me. She was concerned about us.”

  “That’s a big deal, by the way. Cindy tends to keep her past locked up tight. The fact that she shared with you is huge. But did you share with her?” Not that he was mad about it. Naturally, he wanted Bianca to be able to open up to him instead of his sister, but if she was able to open up to anyone at all, it would be a step in the right direction.

  He continued. “Don’t get me wrong. I want you to be able to talk about your past with someone. Anyone. I’m not mad. It would be perfectly natural for you to find a way to share with someone who’s had a similar experience. I get that. I would never want you to feel like you couldn’t befriend my sister. I’m only asking so that I can tell Cindy to keep her conversations with you private. She should know if you’re not ready to say the same things to me.”

  Bianca shook her head. “No. That would be asking too much of both of you. I wouldn’t want you walking around your sister on eggshells because I don’t have the balls to tell you my secrets. Besides, I didn’t say much. Mostly she was talking. She had no idea about my past. I’m sure I shocked her. She wouldn’t have stood there spilling so many details about abuse if she’d known how close to home she was hitting.”

  Grayson listened closely to every word, wa
tching her expression as she slowly gave him a piece of herself. A little at a time.

  She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you everything. Not today. But one day. I need some time. But I did tell Cindy it was my uncle who abused me. I never knew my father. When my mother got pregnant, she had nowhere to turn, so she went to her brother. I was raised under his thumb, and it wasn’t a kind one.”

  Grayson nodded, and then he pulled her in for another hug. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 9

  For the next week, Bianca settled into a more comfortable routine, no longer walking on eggshells all the time. It was scary to admit she wanted something more with Grayson. It freaked her out completely actually, but it also cleared the air.

  Grayson was more relaxed. He didn’t pressure her, nor had he said a single word about their huge confrontation. He stopped looking nervous all the time, though, which drew her attention to just how stressed he had been about her.

  The truth was she hadn’t known him well enough to realize the anxiety she often witnessed wasn’t inherent in his personality. It was out of concern for her. She stopped flinching so often. She craved his contact more every day.

  While they used to graze each other in passing in an almost believably friendly gesture, now they intentionally held hands. If they were on the couch, he put his arm possessively around her. If they were at the table, he set a hand on her thigh. If they were standing on the front porch staring at the bright sky, he cupped her face and kissed her lips. Not with the same passion as the one afternoon a week ago, but with enough emotion to let her know he was there, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  She grew comfortable in the knowledge that he cared enough to wait for her to work through the shit in her mind. It was becoming increasingly clear that he wasn’t going to suddenly lash out at her. And damn, but she’d spent a lot of time thinking about his words. He was right; she let her uncle have power over her he did not deserve. She still didn’t have a single idea how to cut that power off, but she was working on it.

  A few days after her breakthrough, she’d summoned the courage to speak to Cindy again. After apologizing, she’d gotten another gentle lecture from Cindy. That conversation played over and over in Bianca’s mind too.

  Cindy had a good point. Bianca was a strong woman. She’d learned and grown from her past. She would never permit herself to exist in an abusive relationship again. She was an adult now, with options. She had an education and a mind of her own. She would not be trapped by age or finances. She needed to trust herself on that front and live in the knowledge that although she couldn’t control the possibility that someone might hit her, she had the power to walk away.

  After speaking with Cindy, she intellectually understood that Jorge Gonzales had still been controlling her nine years after she last saw him. That was fucked up. On the other hand, he’d left his mark on her, and she hated the physical reminder that lay in stripes down her back and butt. The scars kept her from every fully forgetting.

  Which brought up a new concern. How would Grayson react to the scars? After he’d seen her naked, would he ever look at her through the same eyes again? On the flip side, did she have a choice? Not at all. She was so deeply involved with Grayson that not taking a risk was no longer an option.

  The edge of fear was all that continued to hold her back because it certainly wasn’t lack of sparks. She was currently curled up on the couch in the basement with her head on Grayson’s lap. The lights were out, and he was flipping through the channels on the television with one hand while absentmindedly stroking through her hair with his other hand.

  She didn’t care what channel he chose, nor was she paying attention. All her concentration was on how good it felt for him to hold her like this, touching her so gently. He took such care with her.

  Every day she felt the pull to move this relationship further. Her body lit up every time he touched her in a way she’d never experienced. And she knew he felt the same way because she often caught him squirming to get more comfortable. She could easily glance at the front of his jeans to know he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. At night when he held her, she could feel his erection against her thigh or her butt or her belly.

  He never said a word. He never pushed her. He also never kissed her quite like he had a week ago. He kissed her, and he did it often, but he never did it in bed, and he never did it with the same intensity of that first time.

  Had she imagined the energy of that first kiss? She was certain she had not. She questioned his reasoning in her mind every day and had decided he’d used that kiss to show her how things could be between them. Now he was giving her the space to make the next move.

  He might have been in the process of applying for sainthood.

  No matter how many ways she twisted their new relationship status—dating but not intimate?—she knew the next step was up to her. It seemed he would wait for an eternity.

  Half the time she figured it would be so much easier if he brought it up and pressured her, both physically and emotionally. She understood that kind of move—manipulation. A insecure part of her kept waiting for him to do something to make her feel small as if her thoughts and feelings didn’t matter. But it never happened.

  Meanwhile, she closed her eyes as he settled on a movie she didn’t recognize. Undoubtedly something from the last decade neither of them would be familiar with.

  Instead of paying attention to the screen, she concentrated on her body’s reaction to being near him, his hand on her head, his thigh firm beneath her cheek. Her breasts felt swollen, her nipples tight. She longed for him to cup them in his hands. A craving she barely understood but was clear as day.

  As usual, she wore a simple white T-shirt and jeans. She had more options now that Cindy had selected some things for her from the store in town and also helped her choose a few items online.

  As a result, Bianca now had shirts that were at least cut for a woman, jeans that fit her perfectly, and bra and panty sets that were far sexier than any she’d ever owned before preservation.

  Grayson had kept a running tally of everything his parents and sister spent on either of them so that the moment they had their own steady incomes, they could pay his family back.

  Right now, her feet were bare and she was squeezing her legs together. The downside of tight, fitted jeans was that they hugged against her sex also, often making her far too aware of her newfound desire to be touched there.

  So, these days she had an ongoing war in her head between wanting to take the plunge and have sex with Grayson or ignore her body’s reaction, revert into herself, and stop the madness.

  Her desire was winning. Every day she got closer to giving in to temptation. He obviously cared about her. She should be able to trust him.

  She couldn’t seem to lie still. No position alleviated the fact that her sex was literally pulsing and her nipples demanded attention. One thing was clear, she didn’t need a sex education class to know what to do in that department. Her body knew. It was instinctive. And apparently when the right person came along, it happened whether she invited it or not.

  For her, it was basic human instinct to have sex. All the parts were on board except her brain.

  While she was warring with herself to say something and move this thing forward, Grayson’s phone vibrated on the end table. She lifted her head to set her chin on his thigh as he reached for it.

  “Hello?” The phone was a burner. Few people had the number. No one was programmed in. And there was no way of knowing where a call might come from. A few seconds passed and then, “Dade, what’s up?” Grayson put the phone on speaker and held it between them so Bianca could hear too.

  “I think we have a problem. You’re with Bianca, right?” Dade’s voice was serious.

  Bianca pushed off Grayson’s lap to sitting. “I’m right here,” she responded.

  “We have reason to believe someone in your family is trying to find you,” Dade said. “Are you in
touch with any relatives?”

  She jerked in her seat, her body going rigid, hands gripping her knees. He had to be mistaken. Please God. “Me? My family?”

  Grayson turned to more fully face her, setting one large hand over her smaller one and squeezing.

  “Yes,” Dade continued. “Spencer is feeding me information as fast as he can manage to hack into it, but it’s hard to know for sure what’s true and what’s not. There’s always the possibility that Blue Cell will start flooding us with false information out of fear that Spencer is still tracking them from afar. Which he is.”

  “Give us more details, Dade,” Grayson growled.

  Bianca felt the blood leave her face. She thought she might faint. She couldn’t breathe. Dade would not be calling them if he didn’t think his intel was credible.

  Grayson stared at the phone between them, not meeting her gaze but still holding her hand with his free one.

  “After weeks of inactivity, suddenly Blue Cell is pulling every detail they can about every one of us.”

  “Great,” Grayson muttered sarcastically.

  “What Spencer can dig up on all of us is bone-chilling. I’ve seen copies of his reports. His old employers pick someone to target and then go after that person hard.”

  “And you think they’re targeting Bianca right now?”

  “Among others. Yes. Spencer had put together a file on her and tracked down everyone in her family. He’d created such a file on all of us, but it would seem Bianca is on the top of their list.”

  Bianca started shaking her head, half out of disbelief and half because she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to hear this.

  “According to her file, Bianca left home at eighteen and never returned. Is that accurate?” Dade asked.

  Grayson glanced at Bianca and then answered for her. “Yes.”

 

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