Bab 20: Chapter 20
"Olivia, what are we doing?"
Despite better judgment, he did what she asked and nearly swallowed his tongue when she straddled his thighs. A hand on his shoulder, she pushed, encouraging him to lay back. She was maybe a hundred and twenty pounds, leaving him to wonder how she became the dominant one between them. Then again, if she requested he bark at the moon, he probably would.
Settling his bent arm behind his head, he hissed at the cool planks against his back. She leaned over him, her wet strands a curtain, and he stopped breathing altogether. The rain had stopped, but droplets fell from the canopy of leaves. Between that and the darkness, she looked like a sexy version of a sprite.
"You taught me something about memory replacement when we were in the barn. I'm going to return the favor." She kissed his jaw and he closed his eyes, confused and fascinated. "Why did you work for people who sold cocaine?"
His eyes flew open. "Olivia. We're not"
"Answer me and I'll reward you."
He froze, tempted. "Reward me how?" Why the actual hell was he considering this?
She offered a sly smile and splayed her fingers on his chest. Unimaginable heat spread from her palms and he groaned. "Should I keep going?"
Fire licked his skin and he blurted a response, seeking more from her. A necessity. "I had no choice. I'd joined a gang called The Disciples two years prior for protection. Chicago's south side was not friendly."
Just like that, she dipped her head and her hot, wet tongue swirled around his nipple. He choked and jerked toward her mouth. He shoved the fingers of his free hand in her hair and held her to him.
The new, riotous sensation made scrambled eggs of his brain and whatever good intentions he'd arrived with. He'd never been the focus of sexual ministrations before and he shook with uncoiled need. With previous partners, he'd been the one in control, and he hadn't let them...play. This was...she was...
Shit. He was dying.
"Did you like being in the gang?" This time, she asked without lifting her face.
Chest heaving, he stared at the leaves overhead. "At first, but that changed fast. I'd finally belonged to something, but everything came with a price. My time wasn't my own and they stole what little humanity I had left." Knife fights and turf wars. Women were things to be owned and whored into submission. Constantly, he battled to keep a straight face when his stomach rioted at beating after
She sucked his nipple and sunk her teeth around it, flicking her tongue. Broken bottles and graffiti disappeared. The blood and fear and screams dissolved into nothing but Olivia's sweet mouth and the way she made his heart pound for a different reason. Glancing down his nose at her, he massaged her scalp to encourage her, wondering what was happening to him.
Moving to his other nipple, she paused. "What would've happened if you said no? If you walked away?"
"There was no out once you were in. They would've killed me." Painfully. He'd witnessed it more than a few times. Torture. Stabbings. Carving their symbol on flesh. Boys begging for death
She ran her hands up his sides while she licked the flat disc of his nipple into a hard peak. Lightning shot through his system and short-circuited everything except her. He ached. Christ, did he ache. For her to keep going, to stop, to quit making him...feel.
"But you're alive. You escaped."
Damn, it was impossible to focus. Cool raindrops leftover from the storm hit their hot skin and he was shocked there wasn't steam. "Once I was thrown in juvie, I became disposable until release. But I joined the Army and never went back."
She kissed her way up his chest and under his jaw. A semblance of reality trickled through his haze. Tilting his head, he threaded the fingers of both hands in her hair and forced her to look at him.
"I did terrible things, Olivia. Stuff I can't erase."
Her somber gaze studied him. "If you could go back and do it over again, would you join the gang?"
"No."
"And do you regret the things you've done?"
"Yes." Every second of every minute of every day.
She swept her fingers over his face as if wiping the past away. "You were just a boy. A scared, helpless boy. The fact that you feel guilty, that it's eating you up even now, should tell you what's in here." She pressed her hand over his heart. "Good people do bad things for all kinds of reasons. Fear, desperation, but that doesn't make you a terrible person."
He shook his head, powerless against her.
"When your mind goes back there, think of this instead." She kissed him, soft and slow and with such aching reverence, he had to close his eyes. "And remember this." She sat up and placed her hands on his pecs. Gaze holding his, she skimmed her fingers over the ridges of his abs. "Allow yourself to feel good, Nate. That's what you do to me."
Christ Jesus. She washe didn't know.
Gritting his teeth, he gave her a little shake. "You should run, baby. Where I go, pain follows."
She set both her hands on the floor by his shoulders and leaned over him, blocking out everything but her. "You call me baby when frustrated or aroused or scared. Are you aware of that? You don't seem to be."
He stilled, frowning. No, he had no clue he'd been doing that. Pet names weren't his bag. Then again, of all the terms he could've inadvertently used, baby was more of a signal for...possession. A claim she was his as much as an endearment she meant something profound.
"I..." What? He wasn't exactly sorry and, though the path she was dragging him down could only end badly, he couldn't stop desiring her. Christ knew, he'd tried. "Do you want me to stop?" He'd find a way, somehow, to accomplish it.
"No." She leaned in and spoke against his lips. "I like it."
He groaned and, holding the back of her head, pulled her to him the rest of the way. She opened for him immediately as if anticipating what he needed and wanting nothing more than to provide. He'd noticed that in their few interactions before, as well. Her kiss was the mirror of her character. Kind. Giving. Observant. Clever. Sexy. Or, when at her emotional breaking point, fierce.
And she always seemed to be telling him something. Like right now, as she held his jaw and offered slight teases with the tip of her tongue on the top of his, she was in nurture mode. I've-got-you meets it's-safe-for-you-to-fall. It was enough to make a grown man weep.
With an arousing little hum in her throat, she pulled away. "Why do you shave your head?"
He blinked at the abrupt topic change and scratched his jaw. "I got in a fight in juvie. A kid grabbed my hair and one-upped me. Shaved it ever since."
"Interesting. I thought you were going to say something like you were hiding male pattern baldness or a receding hairline."
One second she had him on the brink of madness and the next huffing a laugh. "No. Or, well, that may be the case now. I wouldn't know." He stared at her, wondering if she didn't like the look or something. "Why?"
She shrugged. "Just curious." Again with the hands on his head. Stroking. "It's hot."
"Hot," he repeated, not computing.
"Sexy, attractive"
"I know what hot means." Damn, but he grinned. She was adorable. "I'm just not seeing how you'd think so." Not for the first time, he wondered what the draw was for her. He wasn't a cowboy or anything all-American, and that was the kind of man he pictured her with.
"Good thing they're my eyes, then."
He gave up. Understanding women, especially this one, was like trying to learn molecular fusion while drinking Jack Daniels. Pointless.
Drawing a cleansing breath, he set his hands on her thighs and rubbed his thumbs over her wet jeans. "If we're done with this torture session, we should head back inside before you get sick."
She rolled her lips over her teeth, fighting a grin.
Yeah, fine. Let her poke the bear for being protective. But she was drenched and the temperature was dropping.
"I don't know what to mock you for firstthe torture comment or the fraternal one." Her cornflower eyes lit with humor and settled the last of unease in his chest.
He gave her ass a firm slap and she yelped. "Home, Olivia, or I'll carry you."
Hadiah
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