Page 28 of A Brother At My Back

“But I’m not a good person to get involved with, like, at all,” I told him.

I’d looked away, fixing my eyes on a crack in the wall, down by the baseboards. His thick fingers found my chin in a light, gentle touch that brought my eyes back to his.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that, eh?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” I said truthfully.

His mouth was coming closer to mine and he whispered just above my lips, “I’m a big boy, I can take it.”

“You sure?” I murmured and almost hated how faint my voice was, how much I wanted his lips to touch mine. It’d been so long since anyone who had wanted to kiss me saw me for more than just tits and ass. I knew it down to my very soul that Nik did. That this wasn’t the same as the men from the club. There was something far more to this than that, and I was especially surprised to feel that I wanted it, and then his lips touched mine, warm and sensual, and I lost myself for just a moment.

I kissed him back, Pretty Woman Art of Hooking Handbook be damned. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t a hooker. I wasn’t a sex worker. I was a woman and I felt like a real one at that. It was amazing, breathtaking, and so beautiful. I hadn’t realized how starved I was for it and at the same time, it frightened me so completely to have that strong of a reaction to him, to any man again after what Silas had done.

I pulled away abruptly, my chest heaving, and turned away, pressing my hands to my mouth as much to hold onto the lingering sensation of his kiss as to keep myself from spilling over into heavy sobs. I was so torn between so many emotions. Want, need, and longing warring with the safety, independence and yes, even loneliness. I was lonely, and I hated that about myself, but it was something that I just had to do.

“Hey, hey, none of that,” he whispered soothingly, stepping up to my back and wrapping his arms around me. He rested his lips against my shoulder and he swayed gently; soothingly.

I closed my eyes and breathed deep and slowly relaxed, lowering my hands and murmuring, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, eh… It was nice.”

I scoffed, nearly choking on the bitter, mocking sound. He smiled and gave me a gentle squeeze before letting me go.

“Well, it was for me,” he said softly, and I immediately felt bad.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, tone grave. “It was nice for me, too.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

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