Hard(51)

“Why?”

“Well…” I grinned, grateful for the conversation change. “She’s a lesbian.”

“That is a relief.”

“Should I be concerned?”

Shay’s playful tone amused me more than her robe slipping over her shoulders. “No, I’ve been very satisfied lately.”

“Just satisfied?”

She hummed. “As much as can be expected.”

“I’ll have to work harder. No one’s ever accused me of being adequate.”

Shay didn’t want to play. She tucked a falling curl behind her ear. I wished she let me do it for her. A brush to her cheek tempted me more than night between the sheets. Every second she allowed me to touch her cocoa skin was a gift, a blessing second only to her smile.

So why did her smile fade?

“You came back early,” I said. “Everything okay?”

She nodded. I didn’t believe her. I took her hand.

She let me hold it.

I’d explode just imagining her lithe, gentle fingers pumping my cock.

“It was a rough night,” she said. “My friends…weren’t acting like my friends.”

“What’d they do?”

“Asked for money.” Her eyes rose to mine, honest and desperate. “And I would have helped, I would have. But…I don’t have the trust. And they got mad...”

Shay was as lovely on the inside as out. She’d spend her last cent trying to make sure everyone was happy. She’d run errands, copy homework, and give money because she mistook gratitude for love. And her asshole friends seemed the type to exploit it.

I tugged her close, surprised when she rested her head on my shoulder. “You don’t owe them anything, baby.”

“But I will help them.”

“I know.”

“I just hoped tonight would let me clear my mind. I needed…to think.”

And I needed to kiss her. Maybe that was her problem. Too much thinking, not enough kissing, touching, and fucking.

“They didn’t even try to help with Professor Sweeten. They asked how I pissed her off and then…bam. And Heaven, I swear, she better not come near me again. Not unless she’s on her knees and I’m on my way out of church.”

“Sounds like a rough night.”

“Why are you the only one who understands?” She swallowed. “Why are you the only one who even tries to understand?”

“Because I know what it’s like to have everything but still lose the one you want.”

Shay quieted. I thought I blew it. It sounded romantic in my head, but what the hell did I know? There was still too much shrapnel, swelling, and half of the desert rattling around my brain for me to make sense of most things.

I should have spelled it out for her. Laid it all out and waited for the rejection.

But I always did like torturing myself. Kicking my own ass meant I was getting stronger. Worked in the weight room, on the battlefield, and in the bedroom.

I didn’t have to say a damn thing. Shay reached for me, her delicate fingers stroking over my cheek. She leaned in, gentle, and kissed me.

Goddamn, those lips. With a single nibble to my bottom lip, Shay might have asked me to burn down the damn estate, and I’d have agreed with the flick of my tongue against hers. My cock throbbed for her. I shifted in my jeans, but that gave it room to get harder.

I wanted this fucking woman.

I wanted everything about her. The pouty lips. Those hidden curves under the robe. Her body. Her heat.

Her dreams. Her secrets. Her every vulnerable thought.

And, in return? I’d be the one there for her. Her douche-bag friends or absent father would never hurt her again. I’d comfort her. Hold her. Kiss her.

Until I shipped back out.

Holy Christ.

I spent two months in the hospital and six in therapy. Every damned second of my recovery was spent forcing myself to take the next step, add the next weight, and meet the next challenge.

I never had a reason to stay that could compete with my desire to go.

Until her.

Shay stood. I curled my fingers in the comforter so I wouldn’t throw her onto the bed. She tickled the knot of her belt.

The silk opened.

Fell away.

And she stood before me in perfect, goddess-like perfection.

Dark. Sensual. Curvy and feminine and absolutely utterly beautiful, from the ebony curls of her hair to the swell of her breasts and the hidden treasure tucked between her thighs. She let the robe drop to the ground and turned. Her firm ass brought a man to his knees quicker than a gun slammed into the back of the head.

She escaped into the bathroom. I stared after her, my heart punching a hole in my chest.

The water started again. Her voice echoed from the tub.

“Zach?” Her words were a light tease. “Are you coming in or not?”