Be My Hero(26)

But then she sank her fingers into my hair, and fuck . . . nothing was  going to offend me for a good long while. Jesus, she had nice fingers.  They felt so damn fine on me. Her nails occasionally scraped my scalp,  and each time they did, every nerve ending in my body had a mini-orgasm.  My heartbeat pulsed through my throbbing erection until I had to  concentrate not to roll my hips with her fingers as she tugged on my  hair with these rhythmic pulls, making sure she lathered that foam shit  on every lock. And oh . . . holy baby Jesus, it felt good. So. Damn.  Good.

Then she spoke, and the tone of her voice was like drizzling chocolate  over an already perfect dessert. "You actually want to win," she said,  "and he didn't even want to participate, so . . . yes. That's it  exactly."

What had she said? I think I was little too busy trying not to come in  my damn pants. Christ. She could spiff me up every day of the week. I  reached out my hand and pressed it against the wall to support myself  because all the blood was rushing to my dick and making me dizzy.

"Okay. Look up." Her voice grew huskier.

I lifted my face, sucking in a stuttered breath when our gazes met. Her  pupils looked dilated and full of some of the same heat I was feeling.  My nostrils flared, aching to draw in her lilac scent, but all I could  smell was that fucking mousse.

"You, uh . . . " She cleared her throat and tore her gaze away from mine  to focus on whatever she was doing to my hair. Her fingers slowed as if  she wanted to draw out our time together. God love her, the dirty  tease. "There was actually something else I wanted to discuss with you."

Still refusing to look me in the eye, she sucked her bottom lip in  between her teeth, just as she had when I'd been inside her. It was  hotter than hot.

"'Kay," I slurred. "Shoot."

"Right." She nodded. "So, the last time we talked, I know you came up  with this crazy assumption about me that . . . well . . . " She removed  her fingers from my scalp and looked up, searing me with the very blue  eyes I dreamed about nightly. "You were wrong, okay? Whatever you  thought . . . It was just . . . It's not true. That . . . that never  happened. Not to me." She gave me an encouraging, yet tense smile.  "Okay?"

I watched her throat work as she swallowed. My gaze fell to her hands;  she was wringing them unconsciously at her waist. Lifting my eyes again,  I took in the determination and desperation in her expression and  nodded slowly. "Okay," I said, giving a little shrug as if it were no  big deal.

"Okay," she repeated with a forceful nod, before a scowl line deepened  between her eyes. "Wait. I just stressed over this for two freaking  weeks, unable to stop worrying about what you thought of me and who you  were going to blab to. And all you have to say is okay?" She set her  hands on her hips and scowled.         

     



 

Her miffed temper was so adorable it made me smile. It reminded me of  the Tinker Bell I'd built her up in my mind to be, a sassy soul mate  who'd argue with me even when I was trying to be completely compliant.

Fuck, maybe she wasn't exactly as she'd advertised herself to be on her  Facebook page. Maybe she wasn't quite the rich, entitled spoiled  princess I'd convinced myself she was. Which was bad. Thinking she was  more like what I'd envisioned instead of what I'd feared, made my heart  think I could actually reach her and have her.

But I couldn't.

With my hand still braced against the wall, I leaned in to her, hovering  above her. "What do you want me to say, Tink? That I know you're lying?  That I know it really did happen, and that the very thought of it rips  me in fucking half? That I want to find the monster or monsters that  hurt you and destroy them with my bare hands? Is that what you'd  prefer?"

Her eyes widened and her breath puffed from her parted lips. "I . . . "  She shook her head. "Actually, no. You're right. 'Okay' was a good  answer, after all."

"Yeah. It sure as hell was." Then I grinned, loving that I could finally  smell her lilac scent again. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll keep your  secret. If you promise me one thing in return."

She jerked backward away from me, glowering. "I don't make deals."

"Relax." With a low chuckle, I caught a piece of her hair between my  fingers and nearly whimpered when I felt how soft it was. It was exactly  as I remembered in my visions. "I just want you to tell me you're no  longer in danger. If I know he can't get to you anymore, I'll leave it  alone and pretend like I'm a clueless dumbass. Okay?"

The vulnerability in her expression made every protective instinct in me  kick into gear. I just wanted to scoop her up and carry her away  somewhere safe, where no one could ever bother her again.

"I'm no longer in danger," she dutifully assured me, even as her eyes  flared with shock, as if she couldn't believe she'd just let me know I  hadn't been wrong after all.

I closed my eyes briefly, because I'd still been clinging to the hope  that I might've been wrong. But now that she'd confirmed it, grief  gripped my throat, making my words gritty when I said, "Good." Leaning  down, I pressed my lips to her forehead. "Thank God."

She scurried away from me with a gasp. "You shouldn't do that."

I blinked, bewildered. "Do what?"

"Kiss me!"

Blurting out a laugh, I caught her hand and tugged her closer. I didn't  like her being more than five feet away. "Pressing my mouth to your  forehead isn't-" But my words stalled on my tongue when she looked up at  me. Her blue eyes were big and wide, full of heat and fear. I  swallowed. "Well it wasn't supposed to be anything. Just . . . you know .  . . friendly affection."

God, that sounded lame.

But she nodded as if desperate to buy that. "Good, then." She wiggled  her fingers out of mine and began to stroke them with her other hand as  if my touch had seared her. "I wouldn't want your wife coming after me  with a sawed-off shotgun or anything."

Took me a second to remember who she was talking about. It was still  ingrained in my head that she was the only woman I'd ever marry. For a  moment, I entertained a ridiculous image of her chasing herself around  with a gun. It was an animated vision, like something straight off  Looney Tunes.

I started to smile until I remembered reality. If she was referring to  Tris, Tristy wouldn't care if I went home with a dozen girls every  night. But I liked having this barrier between us. I didn't want Tink to  know what a sham my 'marriage' was. Because for her, I had a bad  feeling I'd want to dissolve all my vows and get an annulment or some  shit, which I definitely couldn't do. Not if I wanted to keep Julian  safe.

"I guess I'll be keeping my mouth off your head, then."

Eva nodded. "Good."

When she turned away and strolled off, I stared after her and gritted my  teeth when I took in her ass. Shit, I almost wished pregnancy had done  to her backside what it'd done to Tristy's-making it twice as  wide-because her taut cheeks looked too good to resist.

She glanced back. "Are you checking out my ass?"

I snorted and shook my head, but confessed, "Of course. And I'm  completely confused. Isn't having a kid supposed to make your butt big?"  I motioned my finger toward her. "Not deliciously juicy like that?"

"Trust me, honey." She winked as she smacked a hand on her ass. "This is huge compared to what it used to look like."

"Dear God in Heaven." I whimpered to myself as she turned away again. A  person wouldn't be able to tell she was carrying a kid at all, because  from the back, she was curved to perfection. When she put an extra,  cocky sway to her hips, most likely knowing I was still gawking, I  grinned.         

     



 

Shit. I think I liked her. Along with her killer body, she had sass and  spunk, along with some softness, and a big ol' heart ready to care for  people. I grinned, remembering how she'd tried to manually help Lowe  drink his water the other week. I had a feeling she didn't even realize  how truly compassionate she was.

Popping into the bathroom before I returned to the bar, I checked out  what she'd done to my hair. I laughed aloud when I saw that she'd given  me a stubby Mohawk.

"Damn," I murmured, carefully touching the gelled spikes. I liked it.



***



"What the fuck!" Ten hissed as soon as I strode into the bar again. "If  you think that hair is going to help you win the auction-"

"It is." I patted his shoulder with a placating smile. "Sorry, sucka, but you're going down tonight."

"Fucker." He scowled after me as I strolled away to check on a table  full of ladies who looked like they had deep pockets and could afford to  win.

Time to start promoting myself.

But I caught sight of Eva at the bar, perched on her stool as she  demolished a bowl of nuts. It was strange enough for a pregnant woman to  enter a bar when it was closed, but for her to stick around after it  opened . . . that did not make me comfortable. If anyone harassed her,  I'd be forced to kill them.