Page 95 of Hale Yes
I lean up on my elbow and squint at the bedside clock over his shoulder. “You really want to discuss labels at 2:37 in the morning?”
His self-deprecating chuckle rumbles his chest beneath my hand. “Sorry, baby. You’re right. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
He pulls me closer, and my leg slips between his. Against my belly, I can feel his cock, which is still sizable though not hard at the moment.
“Good, now shut your sexy pie hole and let me sleep. Some maniac took over my bed and defiled me tonight.”
“What a bastard,” he says, kissing my forehead sweetly. “You want me to kick his ass?”
I’m so content and sleepy right now and nuzzle my nose into his chest. “No, just hold me like this. I miss being hugged.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I’m a man of my word
Helix
I pause at her words. I know she’s tired, but I can’t just let a statement like that go.
“What do you mean you miss hugs? Do you not get hugs a lot?”
She hums, her eyes closed. “Yeah, from my friends sometimes.”
“What about your family?” When we were in New Jersey, I noticed the brief embrace with her dad seemed forced and awkward, and her mom and sister hadn’t hugged her at all. Though I didn’t think too much of it at the time, assuming they just weren’t a very affectionate family.
“No,” she mumbles. “They don’t hug me.”
My hand smooths up her back into her hair, running my fingers through the curls. “Why not?”
“My mother,” Nicolette sighs.
I should really let this go. It’s none of my business, but I can’t. “Your mother?”
“Mmhmm. When I was a kid, I noticed she always hugged Angelica and not me so I told her I wanted hugs too. So she started hugging me, but I noticed her hugs were different from my dad’s. They hurt.”
I have to make an effort not to jolt, and I look down at her closed eyes. I’m not even sure if she’s fully conscious. “What do you mean they hurt?”
Nicolette’s face scrunches up. “Ma hugged me really tight and sometimes she would pinch my side. It just… hurt. I didn’t like it.”
Her voice sounds higher, almost childlike, and my heart is about to beat out of my chest. I thought Nicolette’s mother was just a bitch, someone who clearly favored one child over the other, but it’s more than that. She's fucking evil.
“What about the rest of your family?” I ask.
She hums again. “After I told Ma I didn’t want her to hug me anymore, she told everyone else not to hug me either because I didn’t like it, but I do. Hugs feel good when they don’t hurt.” Nicolette lets out a sigh. “I miss Pop hugging me.”
Now I understand her tattoo a lot better since oxytocin is known as the hugging hormone or the love hormone. Affection was something she was denied as a child, so she had the molecule permanently imprinted on her skin. The tat is on the back of her shoulder and I can’t reach it with my mouth right now, so I kiss my fingertips and rub them against the ink.
Tears well in my eyes and I pull her just a little bit closer, burying my nose in her curls as I whisper, “I’ve got you, baby girl. I’ll be your hug.”
I awaken with a warm, gorgeous body draped over mine, and I’m a little confused at first. I haven’t had a sleepover with a woman in years.
When my mind wakes up enough, I remember last night and smile. It was an amazing night… until what she said in her sleepy confession. Wanting to hold her closer, I haul Nicolette all the way onto my body.
She shifts, and her pussy finds my morning wood like it knows where it belongs. After a couple rocks of her hips, she slowly opens her eyes and smiles down at me, her face all drowsy and beautiful.
“Am I attacking you in your sleep?”
I laugh, the sound dusky in the dimness of pre-dawn. “Yes, and please continue.”
