Walk Of Shame(84)

I’m sitting on the couch wrapped up in Hemy’s shirt when he walks out from the bathroom and runs his hand through his hair. It reminds me of how good it felt to run my hands through it and I can’t help the butterflies in my stomach that are fluttering freely. “Hey,” he says in a low, flat tone.

“Hey,” I say back in the same voice level, not really sure what to do next. This feels so strange. Being with him again brings me back to the past, making me feel as if we were never apart.

“Come here.” He reaches above him and grips the molding above him on the door. I can’t help but to notice all of his muscles flex as his grip tightens. It’s so damn sexy. “Take my shirt off. I need to see all of you. Never cover up around me.”

He always did hate it when I wore clothes after sex. He said he couldn’t sleep afterwards unless he had my naked body pressed against his. I learned very quickly to stop getting dressed after sex, because it was pointless. If I did he would just remove them himself. Sometimes when he was out at night, I would even lie in bed naked hoping it would help me sleep better. It never did.

Standing up, I grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it over my head. I stand here in place, watching his eyes scan over my body, before walking over to stand in front of him. I want him now that I’ve had another taste and I hate myself for feeling this way. I’m only going to get hurt. I was devastated for far too long, and I’m finally in control of my emotions, or I was.

Biting his bottom lip, he reaches out and cups my face in his hands. His eyes meet mine, causing my heart to speed up. They look clear again. A spark of hope shoots through my body, making me want to believe it’s not a coincidence that he’s been clean the last few times I have seen him. I want to believe he is telling me the truth.

He must notice me focusing on his eyes, because his lips turn up into a slight smile before he tilts my chin up and looks directly into my eyes. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was clean. I will never lie to you. That’s a promise I made ten years ago and I’ll never break it.”

“Hemy . . . I-”

“I know,” he breathes, cutting me off before I can finish. “It’s not that simple. If you just give me the chance I will show you.” He swallows hard while tracing my bottom lip with his thumb. “I will never hurt you again. That is a fucking promise, baby. The day you walked away changed my perspective dramatically.”

Before I can respond, Hemy scoops me up in his arms and carries me into the bathroom. He steps into the huge bathtub filled with bubbles and sits down, pulling me into his lap. I instantly rest my head back on his shoulder and sigh in contentment. He’s never done this with me before. I’m going to soak this feeling up while I can, before I have to put my guard back up.

I should be keeping my distance, but maybe letting him in for one night won’t be so bad. I mean, how much can really happen? It’s just one night.

I close my eyes as I feel Hemy wrap his arms around me, underneath my breasts. His touch is so gentle, yet possessive; as if he’s telling me I am his and his alone. The thought causes my heart to pound in my chest. The thought of being his gives me a feeling of warmth and safety, even though being with him in the past was anything but that.

“I’ll take care of you if you let me,” he breathes into my ear. “I may have only been rough in the past, but I promise you I can be gentle with you too. Things are different . . . I’m different. If you give me another chance to love you, I promise I will make you the happiest woman in the world. I don’t need other women, Onyx. None of them are you. None of them took care of me when I was a broken boy, scared, and alone in the world. None of them took me in and held me at night after my parents left me and I lost Sage. That was the most devastating time in my life. Only you were there. Not even my foster parents cared for me. They let me do as I pleased and never gave a shit, but you did.”

He takes a deep breath and squeezes me tighter, resting his chin on my shoulder. His hair brushes over my neck, causing me to shiver in his strong arms. I want to give into him, but I can’t. Damn, this feels so good; too good. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you like you were for me. I just . . . I had to numb myself from the world. I had a constant storm of fucked up memories in my head that consumed me. I can’t change the past, but I can promise you better for the future.”

I can’t help the tear that runs down my face. I still remember Hemy as the broken boy I met ten years ago. He was roaming down the alley behind my house with a group of older boys – all troublemakers. He stopped when he saw me and I couldn’t help but to smile at him. He was the cutest boy I had ever seen and when he smiled back, a warm feeling enveloped me. After that day, I sat behind my house for at least a week waiting for him to walk by again. When he did, he walked over to me and I instantly wrapped him in a hug, surprising him. There was something about him that made me feel like he needed some tender care. I was right. He needed that and much more. After that, we were inseparable.