Page 29 of Pound

“No one got it, not even me. I thought for years that the relationship had broken me beyond repair.”

Pound hadn’t voiced that to anyone, hell, not even himself until recently.

“It wasn’t until after you were taken that I realized it wasn’t the relationship that had done that, it was what the relationship wasn’t that had.”

Meri raised her head slightly and looked into his eyes. No judgment, no pity, just compassion. And dare I dream, a little love?

“How did my being taken change that?”

“When I heard your voice, the fear…” Pound swallowed hard. “A broken man wasn’t what you needed. I knew if I lost you, lost a chance with you, I’d really know what it meant to be truly broken. No one ever looked at me the way you did. Even when you thought I didn’t notice, I did.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of her forehead and continued. “You saw me, Meri. You’ve always seen me. I can’t explain it, I just know it to be true. No one does that—looks at me like they can read the tattoos that life has inked on my soul. And you never judged me for it or looked away. But it goes both ways, I see you too. That’s what it wasn’t. It wasn’t knowing… it wasn’t you.”

Now that the words were out there, he couldn’t take them back. He didn’t want to exactly, but he couldn’t stop the fear of the unknown.

Before he could dig himself into a hole trying to backpedal or explain, Meri asked. “And what is it you see when you look at me?” She cocked a brow and sounded skeptical; Pound smiled.

“First, I see you challenging me to see if it was all lip service or if I really have answers.” That was so Meri, at least the face she presented. “I’m sorry I’m not poetic or—” He didn’t get to finish because she kissed away his words.

Her lips robbed not only his thoughts but the very oxygen from his blood. Pound deepened the kiss and wanted to fall into her and never surface, but Meri pulled back.

“That sounded pretty damn poetic to me, now answer the question.”

“You give the world what it expects. I suspect it’s because the more they put you in a box, the more you pretend to fit. You want them to underestimate you or think they have your number. So, you give them a tough-as-nails single mom who takes no shit. One who’s practical, responsible, and off-limits. But that’s not the full, vibrant picture of you. You’re a hopeless romantic. You want the butterflies, but you’re not willing to take a risk for them because you’ve been burned.”

Pound felt rather than saw her drawn brows in the dim light streaming through the bathroom door, bathing Meri in a glow. Had he gone too far? No, she’d asked and what he said was true.

“You approach everything in life, including love, with your whole being, or at least you did. I suspect Jake had something to do with that change. It’s still there, shimmering beneath the surface though. I see it when you’re with your kids, or your brother. Once I was finally honest with myself, I saw it when you looked at me too. You just rein it in when I look back.”

Meri hadn’t moved. Pound had just gone all in, but he couldn’t let her overthink it. That would be the downfall. “Meri, you’ve let the practical and analytical side of you rise above for so long—"

“Just like you.” It was a truth they shared. They each wore matching masks because they feared being hurt again.

“Like I said, I see you. I always have. And because you see me, you know I’m not the off-putting bastard everyone thinks I am. I used to be a fucking delight.”

They laughed at his attempt at humor. He was rusty, it had been a while, but it felt good.

Natural.

He wanted to kill Jake all over again. Trip had dealt that blow a short while back, but Pound wished he’d inflicted more pain while he’d been alive. When he thought about the plans that bastard had had for Meri and her children, it made him sick to his stomach.

Silence reigned for a while. Neither spoke, but neither slept either. After an extended break in the conversation, Meri broke the silence.

"You don't realize how much an event or series of events changes you until someone points at you at a specific moment in time. Then you see it. It's hard to look back, see what had done it, then accept that you allowed it to do so in the way it did. Even harder still is to realize you need to unfuck yourself instead of continuing to blame that past shitstorm for who you became. One can only be a victim for so long before it becomes their personality."

Her words shot straight to Pound’s heart, true as they were.

“We didn’t get a say in what fractured and shattered us, damn it, but we did have a voice in how we reshaped ourselves afterward. We both chose wrong back then, maybe we can do it right this time?”

Meri kissed his pec before climbing on top of him and laying her body the length of his. He couldn’t resist the call of her lips. He took her mouth fiercely. The kiss turned frantic while she rubbed her curvy body against his.

It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to slip aside the barriers between them and plunge into her waiting pussy until they forgot the rest of the world.

Pound cupped her cheeks and breathlessly ended their kiss. “Sweetheart, you’re hurt.” He pointedly glanced down at the area of her ribs.

“That pain is nothing compared to the ache I have for you. I want this, Pound. I want you. I know it sounds crazy, but when I told Leone I was your ol’ lady, it felt real. I gave in to the fantasy that you’d want me, and—”

The words died on her lips and Pound switched their positions as gently as he could in his current state and kissed her hard. The mention of Leone’s name had his anger rising, but her following words pushed it away. The feel of her underneath him was sublime.

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