Page 48 of The Last Call
Her crazed eyes widen. Not at all expecting that response. A chink in her armor. “You made things on your terms—your way. That’s exactly how to fucking handle things. You’re in charge. You’re the boss. Nobody fucks with you.”
Chink. Chink. Chink. With every word I say she softens. Lowering the shield. Letting me see the vulnerability underneath.
“No.” She slowly shakes her head. Almost dazed from the reprieve I give. “He can’t fuck with me anymore.”
No because I’ll get his name, and he’ll be dead by morning. “You fucking owned him.”
She sways. Grasping at the sofa table for balance.
“You fucking own all of us.”
One step. Small feet sliding over the carpet.
“Including me.”
Another step. Sleek brown boots pushing into the plush strands. I hold out my hand. She makes the decision. She calls the shots. But I have to offer the absolution she so desperately needs.
“I do?”
“Yeah, piccolo leone, you do.” Closer and closer until shaking fingers finally touch mine. “You always have and always will.”
Fat tears stream down her flushed cheeks. The most emotion I’ve ever seen her allow. One shuddering breath and then another until a huge sob finally breaks free. I scoop her up. Coiling her slight body to my chest. She doesn’t resist yet doesn’t cuddle in either. My girl’s too tough to permit herself that kind of weakness.
I carry her out of the room and up the stairs to our bedroom. Kissing her forehead before I lay her gently on the silk sheets in my massive bed. My body curving around the ball she’s made herself into. Sheathing my chest to her shivering back. Nothing else I can say. Nothing else she wants to hear. So all I do is hold her as she cries.
Sunshine greets me when my eyes blink open. Unaware I’d fallen asleep after soothing her for hours. An even better surprise, she’s tucked against me. Curled into the crook of my arm, with her hand wrapped around my waist and her leg draped over mine.
“Hi.”
My usually damn jaded heart and always eager dick spring to life from her welcoming inflection. Confirming she cuddled with me of her own volition. She’s finally letting me in. “Hi.”
“Thank you.”
Her gorgeous eyes filled with gratitude as she stares up at me. “For what?”
“For not being completely repulsed by me.”
Never. “Like you are of yourself?”
A deep sigh blows across my chest as she nods. Her silky hair tickling my bicep. “Yes. I’m a horrible person.”
I shrug against her assertion. Not bothered or believing her in the least. Especially compared to me. “So am I.”
She doesn’t argue. Unwilling to try and convince me otherwise. Which is what I fucking love about her. She accepts me for my faults and demons. Just like I do her. “No fucking judgment here lion. I love you exactly the way you are.”
“I know, and I’m grateful.”
I’m fucking grateful when her fingers slide over my bobbing cock desperate to be released from the confines of my pants. I can’t remember the last time I slept in my clothes. Or with a woman still wearing hers.
Allowing me to roll her on her back, I prop up on my elbow and stare down at her mascara smeared cheeks and puffy eyes. Still so damn beautiful it hurts me not to be buried inside of her. Thankful she doesn’t resist me wanting to fuck her face to face. A solemn tenderness between us that neither of us are used to. Proof once again that we’re more than just fucking. Attestation that we’re genuine and permanent and indestructible.
Her luscious mouth opens willingly when I dip down and kiss her. Slow and soft while her slender fingers cup my face. Ensuring the connection between us. And trying to control the pace. Ironic since she always accuses me of being stubborn and bossy. I smile against her lips, and she presses back against the pillow. Studying my face. Always damn skeptical too.
“What?”
“Just my lion being a lion.”
She feigns irritation but her grin gives her away. “What that hell does that mean?”
