Page 41 of Piston

I feel his presence behind me before his front touches my back, his left arm wrapping around my waist, and for the first time in a long time, I lean my body against him, giving him some of my weight.

Christy’s eyes instantly take him in, and the look she’s giving him makes my blood run cold. Lust oozes off her as she bites her bottom lip, and just seeing that look makes me feel dirty.

Her eyes zero in on his cut, noticing it hanging up, and she focuses on his patches before she looks his way again, her eyes lighting up, and the feeling that builds consumes me.

The thought of her even looking at him makes me furious.

He’s mine, not hers, mine!

This is the feeling I should have had with Chris when I caught them together, but it wasn’t. He was “safe” because I didn’t want a commitment, and deep down, I knew he wouldn’t commit, proving my theory that relationships suck.

“Keep looking at my husband that way, and I’m going to break your fucking nose, and then send that video to my father, Christy!” I snap. For Christ's sake, her eyes have darkened in greed.

Piston tightens his arm around me while Christy’s eyes shoot to mine. She smirks, thinking she’s got one on me. She clearly thinks my husband would stray, which is the one thing I’m certain he’ll never do despite our situation.

“Stay away from my son, and I’ll stay away from your husband,” she threatens, causing Piston to growl, his chest rumbling against my back.

I gently place my left hand on his arm and raise a brow at Christy. “My husband, Step-monster,” her nostrils flare, “wouldn’t touch you if you were the last person alive. Now, do yourself a favor and leave before I say ‘screw it’ and send the video anyway, and I can guarantee, with the prenup paperwork I found, you’ll lose everything.”

She goes pale, opening her mouth so speak, but Piston beats her to it, stating coldly, “I allowed my wife to handle this her way. Now I’ll handle it mine; get the fuck outta our home before I throw you out.”

She flinches at his coldness before sending me one last glare, then turns and stomps out of my house.

I sigh in relief when I hear her car tires screech, and relax in Piston's hold for a moment.

I feel him kiss my head before he asks, “What video?”

Ah, double crap….

Swallowing hard, I move myself out of his hold, making him scowl, but I just shake my head. My eyes take in his low-riding jeans and bare chest, and now I understand why Christy looked ready to pounce….

Jeez!

Clearing my throat, I admit, “I caught her screwing my high school boyfriend the day I left for college. He was my whole high school experience and my first. You were my second….”

His eyes widen in shock. “That’s why you were okay with a fling,” he confirms.

I admit, “Partially. My birth mother dumping me on a doorstep and my father choosing his wife over his daughter was the other reason.” I sigh. “I was never in love with Chris. I cared for him and thought love might grow, but when I caught them, I wasn’t hurt; I was just angry that I didn’t catch on sooner. I think, deep down, I chose to be with Chris because I knew he wasn’t the commitment type, even though I tried to convince myself otherwise.”

Piston shakes his head. “You didn’t want to think your childhood dictated your relationships.”

I nod. “But they did anyway, otherwise, why else would I have accepted a no-strings fling with you for three years?”

He smiles. “Because I’m perfect.”

I laugh, shake my head, and mumble, “Uh huh….”

Smirking, he checks his watch, and then says, “I’m going to go pick up Cooper. Are you all right with me taking your car?”

I give nod, and he moves past me to the small bowl on the table near the front door, grabbing my keys before walking back to me and pressing a kiss to my head, making my heart flip.

No, no, bad heart, no flipping….

“For what it’s worth,” he whispers, “your childhood hasn’t dictated your relationships Nat, because, yeah, we had a casualfling in college, it didn’t stop you from falling in love with me, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself.”

I suck in a breath at his words, and he kisses my head again before grabbing his cut, putting it on sans shirt, and walking out the front door.

I don’t move, even after hearing him drive off.

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