by Sybil Bartel
I didn’t even have to think about it. “I don’t want you afraid of anything, especially not me.”
“I’m not sure what I’m afraid of anymore.”
Shit, I remembered sex the first time. I was still a kid. Yeah, it was exciting, but it was also nerve-racking as hell. For different reasons than a girl, it was a big deal. It changed a person. It changed me. For Carly, change didn’t begin to cover it. “You’re strong, Hummingbird, stronger than you realize.” I stroked her back.
“I don’t feel strong right now.” She breathed out.
“You have more strength than most men I know.”
“Then why does this happen?” Her eyes beseeching, frustration in her voice, she looked at me and made me wish I had the answer.
“Look, I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through, or all the ways it changed your life. But I do know fear and I know how a single event can change a person. You have to decide on its impact. That’s where you have the power. We’re not in control of everything in our lives but we are in control of how we react to it.” Simple truth, you couldn’t change what was, only yourself.
“Is that why you hit your mother back?”
Taken off guard, I stilled. I had to remind myself she already knew this. I forced my voice to remain calm. “Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I hit her, she told me I was nothing, then I ran.”
Carly’s eyes went wide. “You ran away?”
“Yeah.”
“At twelve?”
“Yeah.”
“Where did you go?”
I could see her disbelief. Most people wouldn’t understand wanting to run at twelve. But I had to. Hitting her had felt so good, it’d scared the shit out of me. If I’d stayed, I’d have done a lot worse than hit her. Then I’d be just like her. “I had a few friends. For a few months I was able to sleep in their garages or on their porches without getting caught. I looked older than I was, so I did a few odd jobs for money for food and stole when I didn’t have enough.” It was what it was but I didn’t like to remember it. I’d gotten the shit beat out of me a few times and for the most part, it was a horrible fucking experience.
“Where was your dad?”
“Home.”
Carly blanched. “He didn’t stop her? Didn’t he know what was going on? Didn’t he look for you?”
“He didn’t want to know. As an adult, I realize now that he was just as much a victim of her bullshit as I was. My friends told me he came looking for me but none of them ratted me out. One kid’s mom finally said something to my dad. I’d shown up at the kid’s house one day after my mother had done a number on me. I was just looking for a place to hide for a while, except my friend wasn’t home. When his mom answered the door and saw the shape I was in, she wouldn’t let me leave till she cleaned me up. She asked what happened and I made up some bullshit excuse but I suspected she knew. When my dad knocked on their door after I ran away, my friend’s mother gave my dad an earful. My dad stopped looking for me after that. But a few weeks later, he told all my friends that if they heard from me, they should tell me to come home. He told them my mother was gone.”
“Did you go home?”
“No.” I rubbed my hand over my face.
“Why not?”
“Shit, Hummingbird, you don’t want to hear this.”
“Yes, I do.”
I rubbed my hand over my face again. She asked for it. “I met some people, a girl specifically. She was living in a house with a bunch of fucked-up kids. One of the kids’ moms owned the house but had moved away. So with the exception of the utilities, it was a free place to live. The kid took a collection every month and as long as you anted up, you stayed. I shared a bedroom with the girl I met so our portion was halved.” The part I left out was the drugs and sex the girl introduced me to. She was seventeen and I thought she was cool.
“That’s it?” Carly asked. “Did you go to school?”
I laughed. “No, I didn’t go to school. I was too busy partying and stealing.”
“So how did you get from that to where you are now?”
“My dad found me.” I barely remembered that day, I was so high.
She waited.
I sighed. “I’d been living with the girl almost a year. I ran into one of my old friends and stupidly tried to sell him drugs. He told my dad. I grew up in a working-class neighborhood where drugs were frowned on not because they were illegal but because anyone stupid enough to waste money like that instead of putting food on the table wasn’t worth shit. My dad found me at the house. I wasn’t the well-fed twelve-year-old who played sports anymore. I was a drugged-out skinny shit too interested in sex and getting high to fight him. He dragged me out of there and read me the riot act. He told me I got one chance to clean my act up or he was calling the cops and me and all my friends could go to juvie.
“He took a week off of work and watched me like a hawk. I was sick as hell at first but came out of it. He spent the week telling me he didn’t kick my mother to the curb so I could throw away my life too. The following week he made me go to work every day with him. He was—is—a mechanic. I spent the next four months going to his shop, working on cars and studying. I’d missed a year of school and he was determined to get me back by the end of summer. We struck a deal that if I got caught up with school and went back in the fall and stayed, he’d buy me a guitar and pay for lessons. My mother had always forbid it.” I took a breath and let it out. “That’s the long and short of it. I fought my way through school, met Myles’s father when I was eighteen, and when I moved to Ocala, my dad helped me set up my shop. I leased the real estate but he bought me most of the tools.”
“I had no idea.”
“Neither do most people. Except Myles, and now you.”
“Thank you for telling me,” she said sincerely.
When I looked at her, I didn’t see any of the things I’d feared. There was no pity, no sympathy, no disgust, there was only her and the way she always looked at me with those big blue eyes. “Welcome.” It came out sounding gruff.
“And now you have Gunnar,” she said quietly.
“And now I have Gunnar.”
“A gift from your mother.”
I snorted. She never intended him as a gift but I didn’t care. She’d brought him to me and in the end that’s what mattered. Next to Carly, Gunnar was the best thing in my life.
Carly frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Do you still hate her?”
I had to admit, a surge of anger hit just from the question. Didn’t I have a right to hate the woman who’d put me through hell? Carly knew the score, did she think I wouldn’t own my feelings? Then just as quickly, the anger left. Carly was asking because she cared. I knew she cared and because of that, she deserved an honest answer.
“I’ll probably always hate her. I can’t pretend to understand why a sociopath beats a child. My dad told me she was abused as a kid and I hate to admit it, but a part of me can logically understand why she was fucked up. Not why she hit me, but more how she became the way she was. Regardless, she robbed me of a childhood. She was an angry, selfish alcoholic. And the fucked-up part? I can relate to the anger. And I hate that. I’ll never forgive what she did. But I’m also not going to let her ruin the rest of my life. I made a decision years ago that I wasn’t going to let my past become who I was. So when she showed up here, not gonna lie, it threw me.” I thought of Gunnar and I smiled ironically. “In more ways than one.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. Telling Hummingbird all this, it wasn’t—bad. I didn’t feel like I was losing a part of myself. In fact, it almost felt cathartic. “I was relieved when she died. Did I feel bad about it? Yeah, but mostly for Gunnar’s sake and only because he was conflicted about it. I’m not going to apologize for who I am. And hopefully, I can teach Gunnar the same. I don’t want him feeling less of a man because of what he came from. He’s a fig
hter and I’m proud of him.”
Big blue eyes full of acceptance looked at me with something close to pride. “Where is he?”
“With my dad in Miami.” And I missed him. I sighed.
“You miss him.” It wasn’t a question. Her fingers trailed across my chest and the barest hint of a smile touched her face.
“Shit, woman, let a man have a few secrets around you.” But I smiled.
“You have more secrets?” Concern touched her voice.
“No, just skeletons and if you don’t mind, I’d like to leave them buried.” I gently pushed her aside and sat up. “Tonight, what’s left of it, I just want to hold you in my arms and fall asleep.” I unlaced my boots and stood. “Okay?”
Watching me, she nodded.
I shed my T-shirt and kicked out of my jeans and socks. I had one knee back on the bed when she sat up and took off her shirt.
One arm trying to cover her rack, she leaned across the bed and reached to the floor by my leg. Jesus fucking Christ, she was wearing thong underwear.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I groaned, barely stopping myself from reaching out to touch the smooth skin of her ass.
Quick as lightning, she sat back up, her cheeks bright red. “I, um...” she held up my T-shirt, “...wanted this.”
Face flushed, her hair everywhere, she looked fucking incredible. I’d never been so turned on. “I’m not thinking about sleeping anymore.” My voice hoarse, I sounded angry.
She pulled my T-shirt over her head. “I like how you smell,” she whispered.
Jesus. Her digging my scent was so fucking sexy, my eyes almost rolled back in my head and I went completely hard. Chest moving, air in, air out, I could barely form words. “You smell fucking amazing but I can’t lie down next to you right now.” I pushed back from the bed. All I could think about was that thong and the swell of her lush, full tits and how fucking possessive I felt.
“Why?”
“Fucking Pandora,” I muttered. “C’mon.” I held my hand out. “Trust me?” I had an idea, a stupid torturous idea, but I couldn’t get in that bed with her, no way. It’d been way too long since I’d had sex.
Hummingbird took my hand and I pulled her to her feet and led her to her bathroom. Still holding her hand, I threw the shower on then bent down to her lips. Careful not to touch her anywhere else, I kissed her for about two seconds then I had to pull away.
She didn’t say anything but her eyes were speaking volumes. I saw her fear but I also saw something else. Yeah, this was going to be good. I ran a finger just inside the neck of my T-shirt. “This?” I smiled. “Stays on.” I picked her up by the waist and lifted her into the shower.
“Graham!” she shrieked when the water hit her face, but I quickly dropped my boxers and stepped in behind her, adjusting the spray.
I turned her to face me and tilted her head under the water. Running my hands down the length of her hair, I made sure I got it wet enough before I grabbed the shampoo and began to wash her hair.
Her eyes closed, my shirt plastered to her chest, her tiny hands holding on to my biceps, she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. With her hair wet, the delicate structure of her face stood out.
“You’re so beautiful.” God, she was beautiful. I carefully rinsed her hair.
Water streaming down her face, she opened her eyes and watched her hands run over my chest then brought her eyes back to mine. “I like your tattoos.”
I’d never cared before if a woman liked my ink. Now? I cared. “I’m glad.”
“Are you going to get any more?”
“Probably.” I reached for the soap.
“I’ve heard it’s addicting.”
And cathartic and a step away from cutting, but I didn’t say that. My ink was mine, every piece a painful transformation. “Depends on my mood,” I said vaguely, turning her back to me. I was acutely aware of nothing between us but that damn thong and a wet T-shirt. I forced myself to go slow and kissed her shoulder, then washed one arm at a time. Her head fell back on my chest. “Does this feel good?” I nipped at her ear and she shivered.
“Yeah.” Her voice was all breathy and sexy.
I ran my tongue along the edge of her ear. “I like to touch you Hummingbird.” I brushed my fingers down her arms and took her hands in mine. “Just like this. I want to touch you, everywhere, and I don’t want you afraid.”
“Okay,” she breathed.
I released one of her hands and trailed my fingers over her thigh then up the inside, her skin smooth and wet. I traced the edge of her thong where it met her hip and she flinched. “I got you, baby, I got you. I’m just touching.” I kissed her neck. “I want to be able to touch you,” I murmured, almost unaware of my words, I was so desperate for her.
I skimmed over the T-shirt, across her flat stomach, over her ribs and cupped her breast. With a sharp intake of breath, she gasped, but I didn’t stop. My thumb glanced across her nipple and it hardened under my touch. I did it again. “Feel good?” I asked in a strained whisper.
“Mmm-hmm.”
She was leaning into me now, letting me touch her, and I wanted to shout in triumph. I let go of her other hand and cupped her breasts, rubbing my thumbs over her hard nipples through the wet material. I kissed her neck and dragged my teeth across her collarbone. I wanted to be inside her so bad, I couldn’t see straight. When she moaned, I moved one hand down and cupped her between her legs. She arched against my hand, and even through her thong, I could feel her heat. “That’s it baby, show me what you like.”
She moaned louder and arched again.
I couldn’t take it, I had to feel her. “These are coming off.” I hooked my thumbs in her thong and slid the material down her legs. Before I lost her, I shamelessly slid up the back of her body, palmed a breast in one hand and cupped her in the other.
“Ahh!” she cried out.
Slick, velvet heat touched my hand and I groaned, biting her neck. “Jesus, Hummingbird, you’re so wet.”
My fingers slid through her and found the spot I needed. I stroked once and she slammed back into me, her ass hitting my throbbing dick. Both of us cried out and I stroked her again.
“So sexy,” I whispered. “That’s it baby, feel me. This is how I wanna touch you. Just me.” I kissed her jaw then slipped my tongue in her ear and she spread her legs wider.
Pushing back into me, rocking her hips, she found her rhythm and I went for it.
“I wanna feel you fall apart in my arms. Come for me, Hummingbird.” Stroking her, cupping her breasts, I sucked her neck and she started to come.
“Graham!”
I let go of her breast, turned her head to mine, and slammed my lips down on hers. When my tongue plunged into her mouth, I pushed two fingers inside her, stoked her with my thumb and she fucking lost it.
Shakes racking her body, groaning into my mouth, she came.
And it almost made me come.
My fingers inside her, her body shuddering, I rode out her orgasm with her. I didn’t tell her that I wanted to taste her. I didn’t tell her that I wanted to bury myself so deep inside her that I couldn’t tell where she stopped and I began. I didn’t tell her that when she came in my arms, it was the best feeling I’d ever had.
I slowed down the kiss and gently released her. “So beautiful,” I whispered. “You’re so beautiful.” I pulled my T-shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. Reaching for a towel, I shut the water off and wrapped her up. She didn’t speak, she didn’t move.
I pulled her into my arms. “You okay?”
Her raspy, sexy voice, fluttered up to me. “I want to do that again.”
I smiled, feeling like a total fucking stud. “Oh, we’re gonna do that again. Now dry off and get in bed, I’ll be there in a minute.”
She went on tiptoe and kissed me so sweetly, I forgot my name. When she pulled back and walked sleepily into the bedroom, she had no idea what she’d just done to me. I turned the shower back on, setting it
all the way on cold, and got in. I was so fucking happy, I didn’t give a shit about my raging hard-on. Hummingbird was mine.
Chapter Forty
Honesty
I woke up and knew something was different. Then I registered the small body curled up on me. Warm, citrus, flowers, it was heaven. I kissed Hummingbird’s head and played with a strand of her hair. She stirred.
“Hey.” I rubbed my hand down her back and over her sweet ass. She’d gone to bed last night in underwear that looked like the tightest shorts you could imagine and a close-fitting T-shirt that left a strip of skin exposed. It was torture and it was my new favorite outfit on her. That and her smile last night.
She made a pretty little sound.
“Wake up, beautiful, and show me those pretty eyes.” I needed to see her smile for me.
Stretching like a cat, she lifted her head. “Hi,” her sexy, throaty voice greeted me as she smiled sleepily.
Oh yeah. I could get used to this. “I might have one more secret.” My lips twitched.
“You got up an hour ago and made me breakfast?” She stretched again.
Her soft, full breasts brushed against my chest, driving me crazy. “No.”
Her little brow furled and she pretended to think. Then she smiled brightly. “You’re tired of the Ducati and you’re selling it to me for a dollar?”
I fought the smile. “No.”
“Hmm.” She dropped her chin to her hand and thought again. Then the smile returned. “You’re closing the shop next week and taking Gunnar and me to the Bahamas!”
Ah—“No.” Wait. “Do you want to go?” I frowned and she dissolved into giggles.
“If I said yes, were you just going to drop everything and take us?” More laughing.
Fuck yeah. “No.” What was wrong with that? I was already having fantasies of her in a bikini.
“You liar.”
I stared at her.
Her face went all serious. “But I really like that you were thinking about it.” Her fingers ran across my unshaven jaw. “Thank you.”
I wove my hands through her hair and clasped the back of her neck. “I like waking up next to you.”