Undeserving (Undeniable #5)(119)

       
         
       
        

"You can make it up to me," I told him.

His head bobbed in earnest. "Anything, Eva. You name it, it's yours."

"You spent so much time with her-my mother." I lifted the picture, showing him. "Will you tell me about her? I want to know everything about her, Tiny. Every single thing."

A wobbly smile stretched across his sagging jowls. "Is that all? Where do ya wanna start? Shit, I still remember the day you were born like it was yesterday."

He offered me his arm and I looped mine through it. Arm in arm, we headed toward the living room.

"Scariest fuckin' thing that ever happened to me," he said.

I bit back a laugh. "I love you, Tiny," I murmured, shaking my head. "With extra sugar."

• • •

It was nearly four in the morning by the time I dragged myself up to my old room. Pushing open the door, I cringed when it creaked, and then smiled, unable to remember a time when it hadn't creaked.

The television was on, bathing the room in muted, flickering light. I took a moment to look over the familiar space-the posters on the wall, the framed photos, the rows of shelves filled with cassette tapes and CDs. It felt like home and yet …  didn't.

Eventually my gaze landed on Deuce. Lying on his stomach in bed, he wore only a pair of boxer shorts. His lack of snoring told me he wasn't sleeping.

We hadn't spoken since we'd left the hospital and he'd disappeared within minutes of our arrival at the clubhouse.

I sat down beside him, visually tracing the many tattoos covering his broad, muscular back, marveling at his beautiful body. Whereas my father looked ten years older than he should, Deuce looked at least ten years younger than he was. Not that it mattered what age he looked-Deuce would never not be beautiful to me.

"Baby? You awake?"

"Nope."

"Are you ignoring me?"

"I'm fuckin' talkin' to you, ain't I?"

A smile tugged at my lips, and I bent down to press a kiss between his shoulder blades. His warm, smooth skin twitched beneath my mouth, and a shiver shook through Deuce.

"We can talk about it if you want," I whispered. "Don't let it fester."

Deuce sighed heavily, his big body lifting off the mattress. Flipping onto his back, he folded his arms beneath his head-a move that caused his impressive biceps to shift and swell beneath his colorful skin.

"There ain't shit to say," he muttered. "You know I hate this fuckin' city, hate this fuckin' house, hate this motherfuckin' room. But those are my demons, darlin', and you've got bigger shit to be dealin' with." 

I stared at him a moment, hating him for clinging to things that couldn't be changed, while also loving him at least a hundred times more for always being so glaringly, unapologetically him.

"I don't want to deal with my own shit right now," I told him. "Right now I want to pretend that I don't have any shit to deal with at all."

"That still don't mean we should talk about mine."

We fell silent, watching each other in the semi-darkness.

"Are you coming with me tomorrow-back to the hospital?"

"That's a dumbass fuckin' question, Eva."

Again the silence stretched between us, my gaze wandering away with my thoughts.

"He loved her, you know," I said suddenly.

"Babe." Deuce's tone gentled. "He ain't never stopped."

I nodded distractedly. "She loved him, too. I know she did."

When Deuce didn't say anything, only continued to watch me, I bent down and pressed a kiss to his lips. His large hand cupped the back of my head, and his mouth covered mine. Demanding lips, rough strokes of his tongue, he nipped my bottom lip before breaking the kiss.

"That was so fucking hot," I told him breathlessly, eyeing him hungrily. "What gives you the right to be so old and yet so fucking hot?"

He snorted. "You are one crazy bitch."

Straightening, I laughed at him. "That's all you got? I'm a crazy bitch?" Brow lifted, lips twisted, I blew him a kiss. "You are getting soft, aren't you? Old, and soft, and sweet."

Grabbing my wrist, he set my hand on top of the bulge in his boxers. "Yeah? That feel soft to you?"

I shrugged. "Kinda … "

Deuce let out a low growl, and a heartbeat later I was laid out flat on the bed, his big body hovering over mine. His hips dipped and mine arched, and our mouths met in an explosion of need. Clothing was shed, as were any reservations. Frenzied, we touched each other in ways we hadn't touched in years. My staccato breaths joined the fray.