Page 2 of Claim Me

I stare up at Indigo and wish he wasn’t such a drama llama.People hurt his feelings. Life doesn’t go the way he wants. He feels wrong in his skin.

Or maybe his current irritation is as simple as he doesn’t like the current song.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask like my mom does when a foster boy gets stuck in his messed-up head. “Did one of the guys hassle you tonight?”

“I need you to see me.”

“Idosee you.”

Indigo studies me before his face clenches, leaving him appearing stuck between confusion and anger. “No.”

I rest my cleaning cloth on the counter and wipe my hands on my jeans before reaching for his face. I cup his bearded jaw and stare into his eyes.

“I see you, Indigo,” I say and then add when he only stares at me, “Tell me who is hassling you and I’ll turn them into mashed potatoes.”

Indigo’s gaze loses its angry vibe. Now, he just seems sad. I stroke his jaw and wonder who got him riled up tonight. I’m ready to blame our foster brother, Golden, when Indigo pushes my hands away and steps back.

Anyone would find Indigo’s current expression intimidating. He’s a large, powerful man with the ability to hurt me, yet I know he’s a big softie inside.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, hoping he can settle himself down.

Indigo frowns harder, seeming confused again. I remain very still, allowing him the space to figure out what he needs. I learned how to deal with rowdy men from watching my mom. Winifred—known as Aunt Fred by most people—grew up with a chaotic mess of a family in the lawless hills. My grandfather was a stone-cold mentally ill wild man who built a redneck empire in a place where most people floundered. Early on, Winifred learned to dodge crazy without getting flustered.

For so many young men, she’s been the only softness they’ve known in a hard world. Winifred remains quiet when the noise won’t end. She stands strong against a storm.

Though I dream of being like her, I tend to get overly emotional and lose control.I’m never quiet in a noisy world. Storms always send me running.

Yet, tonight with Indigo, I remain patient and unguarded, even when he looks ready to punch me.

“I need you to see me,” he says again as his hands cup my jaw like mine had done his. “You never see me.”

I open my mouth to disagree. I’m not blind to Indigo.What the hell is his problem anyway?

Before I can stand up for myself, Indigo’s lips collide with mine. I feel under attack. I nearly push him off.

My brain clicks on, revealing dozens of memories of Indigo with me. How he interfered with my attempts to date. How he would often walk up to me as if ready to say something, only to walk away and seem angry with himself.

Holy hell, Indigo wants me! That’s why he’s been acting so weird!

Loneliness and lust swing into gear, shoving aside my common sense. I throw my arms around his neck and tug him down so I can deepen the kiss.

Indigo freezes. I feel him pulling away. My fingers grip his shirt. I don’t want the kiss to end. Indigo tastes like beer mixed with lust and a hint of mint. His skin feels hot against my fingertips.I need more!

His hands release my jaw. His stance moves away before he suddenly tugs me up onto his hips.

My tongue brushes across his teeth, insisting on more. I tighten my legs around his hips. He presses me against the wall. Our kiss deepens. His tongue slides across mine, stirring up heat between my legs.

As soon as Indigo meets my passion with his own, I stop thinking. Not once do I consider using words to discuss what’s happening.

My body aches for affection, and Indigo feels so damn sexy against me. His lips pop free of mine and nuzzle my throat. I bring his hand to my right breast as I slide my fingers through his thick brown hair. His short ponytail breaks apart, leaving his hair wild and soft against my touch.

“Indigo,” I moan as his fingers taunt my hard nipple.

I simply lose myself in the lust. Indigo smells so good. My sister buys our foster brothers new colognes for their birthdays each year. Right now, Indigo smells of patchouli and cinnamon. I doubt anyone’s ever smelled better.

I drop my legs from his hips and stand on my own. Tugging him with me, I don’t dare think. I’m running solely on instinct right now as I kiss him while walking backward toward the bedrooms.

As we near the last room, I pop the button on my jeans and do the same to his. Indigo drags his lips away, hesitating until his gaze meets mine. Whatever he sees in my eyes erases his worries. He returns to kissing me as we disappear into the bedroom.

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