by T. E. Black
“I missed you too, Rook.”
As the words leave my lips, he pushes so deep inside me I want to cry out in pleasure. He steals my breath when he rocks his hips against me, hitting me deep and rubbing my clit at the same time. The world spins around us, but we stay the same, anchoring each other.
Then everything explodes—me, him, our world. The rest of the universe starts spinning back on its own axis while I lie tired, and emotional.
“You’re amazing,” he says in a husky voice and leans to place a kiss on my lips.
“That was amazing,” I agree.
He flops on the mattress beside me as we both attempt to regulate our breathing. When he turns his head toward me on the pillow, I follow his movement. Soon after, we’re staring into each other’s souls like the past ten years never existed at all—as if we’re still young and in love.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rook
If I could wake up like this every morning for the rest of my life, it’d be complete in more ways than imaginable. I’d never wake up an unhappy man. There’s no way I could, not with her arms wrapped around my midsection.
Her golden hair is sprawled out on the pillow and her smooth, tanned skin begs to be touched by me. The sheet sits covering her breasts above her beautiful nipples, and the sight makes me want her more times than last night.
She is perfection—pure, unfiltered beauty. The rarest, but most rewarding, thing to find in this damned world. And here, I found it.
Her.
She’s been there all along, hiding inside an old dive bar. Men surely gawk over her gorgeous body and features, but if I know my girl the way I did all those years ago, she gives them hell.
Does it make me selfish to be happy she isn’t tied down by someone unworthy of her? Probably, but I won’t lie about it. Let’s just say things would’ve been pretty damn different if I had come home to her on another man’s arm.
Don’t get me wrong, I hoped Leigh was happy while I was in California. But, at the same time, I hoped she missed me a little, the way I missed her. It wasn’t a miserable sadness that took over my life, but it lingered in the back of my mind and somewhere deep and unseen in my heart.
How could I think I could ever replace Leigh? I should have known from the beginning that she was the only woman for me. No one would ever compare to her. Every other woman was a temporary marker for a spot only Ryleigh O’Donnell could fill. It’s only unfortunate that it took the death of someone else to make me realize it.
Running the thin strands of her hair between my fingers, I think back to when we were kids at sixteen. Hearing her say she loved me for the first time changed everything for me. My sole purpose became Leigh. I spent every waking minute of every single day making sure she had a smile on her face.
She stood by my side when I fought in the underground leagues. She nursed my black-and-blue eyes every time my opponent got past my blocks. She believed in me. She smiled at my jokes and never held back. She was my everything.
We had a plan. A simple one, but a plan none the less. We were going to get married, have kids, and win enough money fighting to buy Max’s and name it Leigh’s instead.
The night Luke had approached me after a fight was the last time I saw that smile on Leigh’s face. I hadn’t realized just how much I had missed it until now.
“Rook?”
“Hey.” I look down, giving her a soft smile.
“What time is it?”
“Seven.”
“Fuck me.” She groans and snuggles closer to me. “Seven in the morning? I hate getting up this early.”
Chucking, I place a kiss on the crown of her head. “Well, go back to sleep, babe. You don’t have to open the bar until later on.”
She sits up, and the movement causes the sheet covering her breasts to slip down in a pool of fabric. When she notices, she doesn’t pull it back up to cover herself.
Thank God.
My eyes follow her movements as she turns slightly to see what time it is. With her back turned toward me, I trace the outline of a tattoo on her shoulder blade—a dandelion with small fragments of the flower blowing away in the wind.
I never thought I’d see the day Leigh would have ink on her, but with my brother being a tattoo artist, I should’ve assumed she’d find something eventually.
“I’m not tired. Normally, I never get enough sleep at night, so I can’t wake up. But, I guess you wore me out enough for me to get a legit sleep last night.” She gives me a playful grin.
“I’m a lucky man then,” I retort.
Raising a brow, Leigh gives me a cocky look, which I find down right adorable. “Oh yeah? How so, big guy?”
“Well, it takes a real man to tire a woman out so much she’s almost comatose while she sleeps. And, I might add, that means the other guys you were with before me weren’t doing it as good as me.”
She throws her head back and lets out a loud laugh. “Oh, that’s hysterical, Mr. Wallace.”
Now, it’s my turn to cock a brow in confusion. “Why’s it so funny, Miss O’Donnell?”
“Before last night, there was one guy who didn’t even make it past second base. Then, before him, I was with a woman for years.”
What? A women? This is new and fucking hot.
“A woman, huh? Explain, sweetheart. How the hell did that happen? Was I that bad?” I smirk.
“No, ass. You were anything but bad. It’s just that after you …”
“Left.” I finish her sentence.
Looking uncomfortable at bringing up the subject, she moves around it. “Yeah. After you left, I met a woman who was into chicks. We started off as friends, not lovers. She listened to me talk about you and helped me get over it. Before I knew what was happening, I started feeling things for her—more than friendship.”
“So you switched teams because of me?”
“Don’t give yourself all the credit.” She scrunches her freckled nose.
I toss my hands up in surrender, chuckling at this side of her. I love playful Leigh.
“I’m not taking credit. I’m curious, that’s all. Personally, I think it’s kind of hot.”
Leigh moves like a hunter when she strikes my bare chest with her hand.
“You’re such a guy.” She rolls her eyes.
“All right. All right. So, tell me what else happened once you started seeing this woman.”
The playful side of her disappears as she gets lost in her thoughts. Her once glowing smile slips into a frown at whatever is going on inside her head.
“You might think it was hot for me to be with another woman, but my mother didn’t think the same. She was less than supportive of my choice and made it clear she didn’t approve. Hell, she would tell anyone who would listen. That’s where my head’s at—all the hate she has for me. Her own daughter, and she can’t stand to look at me anymore.”
As if ashamed, she tries to turn her head away from me, but that’s bullshit. I stop her head mid-turn, capturing her chin between my fingers and forcing her to look at me.
“Why would you say that? What did your mom do?”
“The first time she caught me with my ex-girlfriend, Susan, she beat the shit out of me. She slapped me across the face like I was nothing to her. The fact that she hit me hurt worse than the actual act.”
Everything about her posture, her voice, her eyes changes. She shuts down and her eyes get a far away look in them. I can almost see the little men with shovels in her head trying to bury feelings as fast as they pop up. It rips me apart. I grew up with Leigh’s mom, and I can’t believe she would do something so terrible to her own daughter. It makes me lose all respect for Mrs. O’Donnell and replaces it with anger.
“Fuck her. You don’t need negativity in your life. No mother should ever treat her daughter that way. I don’t care what the situation is.”
“I know, but it still gets to me. I may be tough, but she gave me life. She’s still my mom, Rook. And, the few times a year I see her
or talk to her, I can’t see the mom she used to be. She’s different, and she hates me.”
“Leigh, don’t do this to yourself. If you’re into women, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s your choice, not your mother’s. It’s not your fault you loved someone who wasn’t a guy. If anything, she should hate me. I hurt you. I left you alone. If I had stayed, you might’ve never found a woman who you felt things for. You would’ve still felt things for me … or at least I hope you would have.”
She gives me a sad smile. “You know, it’s not all your fault. I tried to find a guy after you left, but none of them measured up to the damn bar you set. None of them were compassionate, caring, strong, tough, and undeniably sexy as you were. That’s not your fault. You’re a good man, Rook Wallace. You always have been and you always will be.”
Leigh reaches out, and her delicate fingers trace the tattoo of a “L” over my heart.
“I love this tattoo. I can’t believe you never covered it up.”
Is she serious?
“I’d never cover it up. It means something to me. You mean something. You always have.”
Placing a kiss on her forehead, I smile. The tattoo is something I’ll never cover because it’s the one thing always linking me to her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ryleigh
“What are you thinking about?”
His voice catches me off guard, bringing on a full panic.
“Jesus Christ, Rook! What are you doing down here?” I snap, watching him peeking from the shadows of the bar. “You shouldn’t be down here. I have to open the doors in a half hour, but your brother tends to show up whenever the hell he wants. What if someone sees you?”
Rook cracks a smile, stopping on the other side of the bar. “Aren’t the windows tinted in this place?”
“Yeah, but still … your brother has a key,” I whisper.
“What’s the worst that can happen, Leigh? He walks in, sees me, and we have to tell him the truth? What’s so nerve-racking about telling the truth?”
“I’ve been here for two weeks, and he hasn’t come barging in with a key. I’d say that’s the least of our worries,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Our worries are consumed by vultures who hate me, Leigh. Paparazzi, reporters, ex-fans, family, friends—all people who will get over it eventually. People who’ve been keeping me locked in the apartment upstairs like I’m a damn prisoner.”
“You’re not a prisoner.”
“I am, and it’s all right. I have to be one. But, if I can’t go out there” he points outside, “can I at least come down here before you open the place? I need a change of scenery.”
His damn puppy-dog eyes and pouty bottom lip damn near do me in. I’m no match for his rehearsed charm at times like this.
Plus, he’s right in a way. I didn’t think about him staring at the same four walls since he got here. If I were him, I’d be going insane by now.
“Okay,” I give in, “but, if anyone comes to the door, you better sprint back upstairs. Clear?”
“Crystal.” He smirks.
“So what’s your plans for the next thirty minutes, Mr. Prisoner?”
“I have a few plans.”
He’s up to no good. The cocky grin on his face and his heat-filled eyes tell me he has plans for me all right—dirty, sexy, hot plans. Fuck me, I want to see what he has in store.
“Oh yeah? How can I find out what’s in store for me?” I purr.
“All you have to do is listen, sweetheart.”
I’ll play along with his game. I’m interested to see what kind of ideas are bouncing around in his head.
“All right. Tell me what you want, Rook.” I take a swig of beer from my glass.
“Well first, I want you to walk that tight little ass of yours around the bar.”
His gaze is burning with desire as I play along, following his command. As I step into his full view, his eyes trace over every inch of my body. I feel the hunger without having to touch him.
“What’s next?” I seduce, turning my voice innocent.
He pushes off the bar with both hands and stalks toward me. Every sense heightens to the extreme as he stops in front of me. A low growl rumbles from his chest while he traces over my breasts under my tank top.
“Take off your shirt.”
I’m worked up beyond anything imaginable. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with a man. Leave it to Rook to keep changing up the game when it comes to sex.
“Slow or fast?” I question.
“Slow.”
I follow his desires, gripping my top at the bottom and slowly dragging it over my head. Tossing my shirt on the bar beside us, I shake out my hair slowly.
“And now?”
“Unbutton your shorts, so I could see your panties,” he whispers huskily.
“What if I’m not wearing any?” I bite on my bottom lip, looking innocent as ever.
Rook closes the distance between us in two steps, threads his fingers through the back of my hair, and smashes his lips against mine. The passion behind his kiss is something I’ve dreamed about for ten years.
“Do you want me to fuck you on this bar, Leigh? While the rest of the world walks past these tinted windows, I’d be inside you?”
His fingers dip into my shorts, and I moan out in ecstasy. My back arches as I push against his circling fingers, begging him to do as he said.
“Fuck, Leigh. You want me so much, don’t you?”
“Ryleigh! Open the door!” a voice calls from outside before the person bangs against the glass.
“Holy shit!” Rook and I both curse as we look toward it.
Standing on the other side is my mother in all her bitchy glory, demanding to be let in.
“Ryleigh! I know you’re in there!” she shouts again.
Panic sets in when I realize the only thing separating him and my mother is a thin, old wooden door. But I don’t stop to think as I button my shorts and then grab my shirt and pull it over my head.
“Get upstairs!” I whisper-shout at him.
“I’m not leaving you alone with her.”
“I appreciate you trying to protect me from her, but if you don’t get your ass upstairs and out of sight, she’s going to blow our shit to smithereens.”
“She’s a bitch, Leigh.”
I place my hands on his chest, staring into his eyes so he knows I mean what I’m about to say. “I’ll be all right. I promise. I can handle my mother. So, go upstairs. Please.”
We stare each other down, silently deciding who’s going to win this fight. Rook caves first by nodding his head in agreement, but he makes sure to stomp his feet like a child as he slips through the bar.
“Ryleigh!” Her voice is followed by more pounding.
“Jesus Christ,” I mumble to myself.
I take a deep breath before moving to the door and unlocking it. When I open it, my mother stands with her hands on her hips, looking pissed as ever.
“What?” I snap at her.
“What took you so long? And, you look like shit.”
She pushes past me, walking into my bar like she owns the place. It pisses me off. I worked hard for this bar. She has nothing to do with my success. She told me it was a stupid dream to own a dive bar, but I said fuck her and did it anyway.
What has she accomplished in her life that gives her the right to put me down? The woman looks as if she hasn’t been to a salon in months. Her roots are down to the tops of her ears, and her once always freshly manicured nails are chipped and dull.
“Where is he?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“I know he’s here, Ryleigh Ann. I’m your mother, not a damn fool. I want to see him. You can either tell me where he is or I’ll go looking.” Her words are full of venom and jealously—something I’m not used to hearing.
It’s in this moment, everything becomes crystal clear. She’s jealous because she
thinks I’ve talked to Rook and she hasn’t.
“Are you kidding me? You’re jealous!” I say in disbelief.
My mother turns up her nose as if I’m nothing but scum on her shoe. “Don’t be preposterous. I’m not jealous of anything.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask sarcastically. “Then tell me, why the hell are you outside my bar thirty minutes before opening, demanding I let you inside?”
Standing tall in all her asshole glory, she shoots me a glare. “Because, I know you’ve talked to Rook. He has nowhere else to go, so I know he’s been here.”
“Jesus Christ! You don’t give up, do you? Why the hell would Rook come to me? I get we were close ten years ago, but things changed. I changed. I’m sick of helping people already. If he did come here, I’d tell him to get the fuck out of my bar. I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate a man being in here.”
“You disgust me.”
My mouth gapes open before I let out a sarcastic laugh. “I disgust you? I’m your daughter for fuck’s sake—your blood!”
“You’re not my daughter. You used to be when you had sane goals and morals in life, but now, I don’t know who you are at all.”
I understand this is my mother standing in front of me, but I can’t help but want to slap her. With the things she’s saying about me, I’d say she’s as far from the mother I once knew.
“And you’re a nasty bitch—not my mother, not the woman who raised me to stand out instead of blend in. Why do you hate me so much? What have I ever done to personally harm you besides my preference to women and men?”
“You disgraced me—our family! That’s what you’ve done, Ryleigh! My friends all look down on me because of your preferences. You were supposed to marry Rook and give me grandkids,” she huffs. “You ruined my life multiple times, the first being when you drove your father to drink. The second time when your antics put too much stress on our family and drove him out the door. And, the third when you started having relationships with other women.”
“Is that what this is about? Me ruining your life?” I turn from her, take two steps, and turn back, throwing my arms into the air. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?”