Page 79 of My Salvation
“I’m not sure I deserve this dinner,” Shaw murmurs as he takes his first bite. Groaning, he takes another. “I know I don’t deserve it now, but it’s damn good.”
“You don’t deserve it. This is one of my comfort foods, and after everything this weekend, I needed it.” Taking a bite, I close my eyes and savor the taste. “You’re just lucky I invited you over.”
“I am lucky. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up and tell Thayer to just fuck off.” His hand runs through his hair. “To be honest, though, I’m not sure I would. For years I was our unit’s leader, and I used their expertise to help guide our missions. Even when they disagreed with each other, I always listened to each of them when they felt it was critical.”
Tilting my head, I listen to his explanation. “A relationship is not a ‘unit’ or a democracy. It’s built on trust and support. You didn’t exhibit either in my case. I felt backed into a corner.”
“I get it. I do. I’m sorry. My fears overrode my natural instinct to protect. I let Thayer corner you so I could hear what you were hiding.” Frowning, he looks down at his plate. “When Vanessa left, she told us our unique relationship had never been in her plans for her future. It was always a temporary situation for her. It was devastating. She never gave us any clue she felt that way.” He looks up at me as he shakes his head in disbelief. “When I confronted her, she said, ‘You never asked me.’ A simple fact in her eyes that ruined us. We didn’t realize until that moment that we had never delved deeper with her. We didn’t know her past. We didn’t share our hopes and dreams. So, when we could all see you were hiding something, it ate at our insecurities. It’s no excuse, I know.”
Rolling my shoulders, I take a sip of my beer as I think about what he just said. “The past has a way of influencing the present. I understand. It’s something I fight against all the time. Unfortunately, the past won the other day for both of us. I couldn’t control my reaction to the wheelchair, and Thayer pounced. You couldn’t support me in the way I needed because of your past with Vanessa.”
“I wished that wasn’t true. Fuck, it broke my heart to hear what you went through. It broke all of our hearts, including Thayer’s. He knows what he did was wrong.” Shaw goes on to explain the type of person Thayer is when he’s not being an asshole. “If it’s any consolation, your story is salt into an old wound. His mother was abused, by his own father, and if there’s one thing in this world Thayer can’t stand, it’s the abuse of a woman or child.”
“I’m sorry to hear about his mother, but I have to say, I’m glad he’s suffering, even a little bit.” My voice cracks with hurt and anger.
Standing, he helps me up and heads over to the couch. Sitting down, he takes my hand and pulls me into his lap. “Thayer is like a brother to me. Just like Lev and Lowell. We wouldn’t be so close if he had different values than we do. I hope you can give him another chance to redeem himself. He could use someone like you in his life.”
Playing with his fingers, my own tremble a bit. “I’m not sure. Between his hatefulness, the wheelchair, and the similarity to Collin, it’s tough.”
“I understand. Maybe it will help to focus on the professional instead of the personal relationship. Thayer needs to start taking over his practice. He feels he could start with one-two hours a day for the next few weeks. While he has a lot of rehab and recovery, this will give him something to work towards until he can fully take it over again. Why don’t you treat him as a colleague and focus solely on the day-to-day needs of the practice?”
I gasp. I’m angry at the thought of having him near me for a couple hours every day. How much hate and bullshit will he vomit?
Breathing deeply, I wrangle my thoughts to something less emotional. At some point, I need to figure out my future with these men, and I can’t do that until Thayer and I have either resolved our differences or agreed to ignore each other.
“Fine. If he spews one itty bitty piece of hate or bullshit, I’m done.”
Kissing my fingers, he murmurs his agreement. “Agreed. Enough about Thayer. Can you forgive me? I’m so sorry, Angel. I let my own past cloud my judgment. If it’s any consolation, your story crushed me. I can’t get your words out of my head.”
Staring into his dark brown eyes, my voice is serious as I tell him, “I prefer honesty and transparency, and I want our relationship to include those traits. I forgive you. All of you. But I need men who will stand up for me, not let others influence them. Don’t do it again.”
His lips swoop down and capture mine in relief. Slow, but thorough, his kiss shows me his love. It burns through me, incinerating my anger and hurt, leaving only love behind. My arms wrap around him as I pull him in tight. I kiss him back deeply, showing him my need for him and his love. His mouth devours me as his need rises to meet mine.
My fingers find the buttons on his shirt and work to unbutton them. Tearing my mouth from his, I pull his shirt off him. My hands glide over his shoulders, my fingers trace the scars on his soldier’s body. Kissing a few of the most serious ones, I close my eyes with gratitude that he made it out alive. I sculpt every delicious inch of him before grasping his head in mine to give him a thorough kiss, filled with desire.
Feeling his hands at the hem of my shirt, I raise my arms so he can pull it off. I’m not wearing a bra, so I hear his sharp intake as my breasts come into view, bouncing slightly after being freed from the confines of the shirt. One hand wraps around to my back to pull me in tight so he can capture my nipple with his mouth. His lips clamp down tight, and he sucks hard.
Moaning, I arch my back in an effort to get as close as possible. I tunnel my fingers into his thick, brown hair. Tugging, I move his mouth from one nipple to the other. “This one is more sensitive.” His mouth latches onto the second nipple and licks and sucks. My hands grip his hair as I hold him to me. “Shaw, that feels so good.” Pulling up his head, I lean over and capture his lips with mine again. My tongue slips in and out, playing with his as I mimic the dance to come.
His hands grip my waist and pull me off his lap to lay me down on the couch. Turning around to face me, he hooks his fingers in my shorts and pulls them off, leaving me in my lacy thong. Throwing the shorts over his shoulder, he slides down between my legs and stares up at me.
“You’re so beautiful, Angel. The things I want to do to you are going to take a lifetime. Tonight, though, I want to taste you. Burn you into my soul until you can’t escape.”
His hand reaches out and pulls my underwear up tight so he can see the outline of my pussy. Groaning, his lips glide over the lace, leaving feathery kisses over every inch.
I raise my hips, trying to get him to place more pressure, but he resists. His mouth moves to the inside of my thighs before trailing up to my stomach. Hissing, I twitch as his mouth tickles.
“It’s too light.”
He continues with his feather light touch, except his tongue now joins the journey. His mouth travels all over my body, delving into crevasses, hollows, sometimes tickling, other times striking gold when he hits a “hot spot.”
Rising, he pulls off my thong. Spreading my legs, he stares down at every inch of me, just like he did the night with Lowell. His finger strokes through my wetness from top to bottom.
“You’re so wet. For me.”
He pulls back and takes off his jeans and briefs. His cock, released from its confines, stands at attention, hard and veiny.
Licking my lips, I plead, “I want to taste you.”
