Rock Kiss 02 Rock Hard(61)

She’d had no intention of going… but then everything had unraveled three weeks before the start of the semester, her parents both gone in a heartbeat. She’d buried them one after the other, found herself lost. University had simply been a place she could go so she didn’t drown in grief.

Two months into the semester and she’d believed she’d begun to heal, had finally started taking a real interest in her studies. Then had come Richard, and she’d learned she did still have jagged fractures in her psyche.

“Jesus, a real woman would’ve gotten it by now.”

“I’m sorry, Charlotte. Sometimes I forget how inexperienced you are—I don’t mean to be impatient with you.”

“You do as I say, Charlotte. No lip.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know no one else will ever want you—if they did, I wouldn’t be your first and only boyfriend.”

Charlotte hadn’t understood it at the time, but Richard had been a predator who’d zeroed in on her grief and her insecurities. A self-confident woman would’ve told him to stick it when he said those ugly things to her after her very first time. Molly probably would’ve punched him.

Charlotte had told herself to get over it. After all, he was so handsome, so smart, not the kind of boy anyone expected to fall for plain, shy Charlotte Baird. But the worst, the absolute worst thing, was how it had all begun. She might’ve been inexperienced and painfully lacking in confidence, but she wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t have been drawn into his orbit if he’d been mean and cruel from the start. No, Richard’s abuse had been slow and insidious, like a spider trapping a helpless insect in its web before the insect ever knew it was in danger.

Jumping at the hard rap of knuckles on her front door, she realized Gabriel had arrived. Shaky all over again at the reminder that she’d promised to tell him everything, she made her way to the door, opened it with hands that trembled. He was wearing jeans, heavy work boots that looked like they’d had a hard life, and a short-sleeved black shirt worn loose over his jeans. The shirt had stud detailing on the pocket flaps and the sleeves, fit perfectly over his wide shoulders.

Sliding off his mirrored sunglasses, he looked her up and down.

Her skin chilled, the memory of Richard’s cold recitation of her flaws a loud hum in the back of her skull.





21

THE NIGHT THE MONSTER WAS REAL…





“I DO LIKE YOU in a dress, Ms. Baird,” said the man on her doorstep, the man who wasn’t Richard. “Gives me all sorts of ideas about easy access.”

Charlotte blushed, all thoughts of Richard forgotten. “I thought since it was so nice and sunny out…” She’d worn a sleeveless white sundress, teaming it with a pretty belt of orange patent leather. Instead of a white cardigan, she’d chosen a lime-green one. The outfit was one of the most colorful in her new wardrobe and it made her feel like spring even in winter.

“I have a new appreciation for the sun.” Reaching out to cup her jaw, he said, “Shall I kiss you, Charlotte? Lick my tongue over yours, suck on the tip until you whimper?” He accompanied each word with a rub of his thumb over her lower lip. “Open.”

Her lips parted almost of their own accord, her heart skittering against her ribcage. Closing her lips over his thumb when he slipped it inside, she sucked… then bit down enough to smart.

Eyes darkening, he drew his thumb out and tapped it against lips that felt kiss swollen already. “Just for that, you have to wait for your kiss.” He tugged her outside. “You have everything?”

Not capable of speech just yet, she nodded and, taking her keys out of her handbag, locked up the town house after setting the alarm. Gabriel slid his hand down her back to rest on the curve of her ass as she put away the keys. It made her jump, but he didn’t remove his hand, circling gently as he nudged her to the car.

“What do you keep in there?” he said, eyes on her handbag. “It’s big enough for not only the kitchen sink but all the appliances.”

“Ha-ha,” she managed to get out past her awareness of his touch. “Don’t ask me next time you need a pen or a piece of sticky tape.”

He stroked her again, his cheeks creasing. The heat of him branded her, the mark pulsing even after she was in the passenger seat.

“Where to?” he asked after he was inside, sunglasses back on.

“Albert Park.” It had taken her time to get comfortable in the university area again, but these days, she deliberately hopped off the bus a couple of stops early and cut through the adjacent park on her way to work. It meant something to her that Richard hadn’t destroyed her pleasure in the beautiful area.