Page 60 of Hell of a Mess
Luther
I was fucked.
Or was I?
No one was forcing me to stay here and watch her. I could leave. Go to a damn strip club. Take on two bitches at a time. I did not have to stand in this goddamn room and watch her sleep like a psycho.
So, why wasn’t I moving? I just had to walk back out the door I shouldn’t have come in. Keep walking until I was in my truck and headed to Jacksonville. Get out of Madison. Hell, I could stay out all night. Wake up with naked women in my hotel room. It was what I did. What I loved.
Lace’s brows drew together in a frown, and she whimpered. My entire body tensed, and I took a step toward her. She shook her head frantically, and another distressed sound came from her lips.
Dammit! I wasn’t going anywhere.
This was why I’d come in here. To make sure she was sleeping soundly.
She’d laughed today. Twice. And I was the one who had made her do it. When she laughed, her eyes fucking sparkled. I wanted to do more of it. Which was why I’d left her with Jayda and Branwen and gone to the gym to beat the hell out of a punching bag.
“No,” she cried softly in her sleep.
My long, purposeful strides had me at her side in seconds, and I forgot all the shit I’d told myself while throwing punches earlier. Because I was here. Protecting her. Like it was my damn job.
“Please, no.” Her voice was louder now, and I wasn’t going to be able to take it anymore. She was starting to flail around on the bed, like she was fighting the demons in her head.
I kicked off my boots and sat down beside her on the bed, stretching my legs out in front of me. Then I reached for her and brought her to me, careful not to hurt her ribs. Cuddling her like she was a child.
“Shh,” I whispered close to her ear and ran my hand down her head in a soothing motion. “I’m here. It’s okay.”
She stilled instantly, and I expected her to wake up and look at me with those damn eyes I struggled to ignore. But she relaxed instead, then buried her nose against my chest and inhaled deeply before letting it out with a sigh. My arms tightened around her, but that shit was a reflex. That was all. She was a kid. Mal’s kid. Sure, she was almost thirty, but she was young enough to be my kid. Hell, my son was only a few years younger than her.
The scent of vanilla and cinnamon clung to her hair, and this time, it was me who was inhaling deeply. Several times. Damn, did she have to smell like a snack too? No strong perfume or body sprays. Just fresh and delicate and too motherfuckinginnocent for me.
I’d been pissed that Mal had taken a swing at me, but I’d deserved it. If he knew I was holding her at night, it would be more than his fist he aimed at me. It would be his Glock. I shouldn’t have said the Daddy thing to him. I’d crossed the line, but that was me. I always did. I didn’t like fucking lines. Or rules.
Which was why Mal didn’t want me near his daughter. He knew I wanted to fuck her. I wasn’t going to though. That was what he didn’t understand. But then I didn’t understand it either. The protective shit I had going on in my head with her wouldn’t let me fuck her. That would hurt her. Not the fucking—that would be mind-blowing. She’d never recover from it. But the after—when I continued to live my life. She’d want more. Expect more. It was likely she’d get addicted to my cock.
I mean, that didn’t sound terrible…no. That was bad. Because I wasn’t a one-woman guy. Never had been. Never would be. Not even for the prettiest ocean eyes I’d ever seen. The new would wear off. I’d get bored. I’d tried that shit once. With Kye’s mother. Thank fuck Chloe was smarter than I was. She knew what I was like and called me on it. Refused to live with me or marry me. I had never been more relieved in my life.
Lace’s breathing slowed, and her grip on my shirt loosened. I should go now. She was over her nightmare. I watched her chest rise and fall. My presence was no longer needed. There was still time to go out for the night. Remind my head what it was I wanted.
I just had to be careful to ease out from under her so that it didn’t move her in a way that hurt her side. Just as I made the smallest move, her hand fisted my shirt again.
Shit.
“Stay,” she mumbled groggily.
Ah hell.
“Nightmare is over, sugar,” I replied and tried to move again.
She tilted her head back to gaze up at me. Her heavy-lidded eyes locked with mine, and breathing became an issue as my throat felt suddenly tight.
“Don’t go.”
This was where leaving would set the ground rules with us. Wean her off me. I stared down at her, and while all the reasons I should leave were hammering off a mile-long list in my head, I realized I wasn’t going to be able to get up. It was like she had a grip on something more than my shirt. One I couldn’t budge. Not even loosen.
“Okay,” I agreed, leaning back on the headboard again and sighing.
She laid her head back against my chest and somehow wedged even closer to me. “Thank you.” Her voice was soft, and the relief in it might as well be a goddamn chain locking me down.
