Dropping Gloves (19 page)

And this was the part where I was sure my blood was going to boil over. It was only after she’d started dating Beau that I’d noticed the haunted look coming into her eyes in photos. Before, anytime she’d been caught by one of the paparazzi with a guy, she’d looked like the Katie I had known and loved for years. She’d still had that innocent look, a certain sweetness that her agent had deemed troublesome. When she was with Beau, everything about her had changed.

I picked Blackbeard up and shifted him to my other side so I wouldn’t squash him, and then I slid over close enough I could put my arm around Katie’s shoulders.

She immediately tensed. “What are you doing?”

“Holding you,” I said. “So you’ll know I’m here. And that I love you. And that it won’t change no matter what you tell me next.”

“Don’t you think you should hear it before you make promises like that?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh. Well.” Then she started to tell her story again, but she didn’t relax against me. “Derek convinced me to go out with Beau. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea, because the Brunettis are a lot like the Kardashians. The kids are all famous because they’ve got rich, famous parents, and that usually leads to trouble.”

“You’ve got rich, famous parents and you came out all right,” I argued.

She rolled her eyes. “Dad’s fame and fortune don’t even come close to the Brunettis’ and you know it. But that’s beside the point. The point was, Beau wasn’t into drugs, so I decided it couldn’t hurt anything to go out with him for a little while.”

Except it had hurt, and in ways I knew she had never imagined.

“In the early days, he was great. He spoiled me rotten with extravagant gifts and taking me on romantic vacations when I had time off from filming. I even let myself start to think I could fall in love with him. But then things changed. If I wasn’t dressed right in public, or if I tried to shy away from him when he was groping me for the cameras, he went into rages. He started yelling at me, railing about how I needed to stop flirting with Jesse even though I never flirted with Jesse anymore and hadn’t since we’d broken up. He flipped out any time I talked to another guy in public. He wanted me to do things in front of the cameras that I would never do because I didn’t want my friends and family to see me like that. I didn’t know how to make Beau stop yelling at me. I tried to defuse his anger, and that just made things worse. He would scream awful things at me when we were alone, telling me I was a cheating whore and he would ruin me if I didn’t change. It got so bad that I would do anything to make him stop, and usually the only thing that he wanted was to take me to bed and—”

She choked off for a moment, and I squeezed her shoulder, drawing her closer to me as a reminder of my presence.

“He wanted to take me to bed and essentially screw me into submission. He could be rough at the best of times, but when he was worked up like that, he lost all sense of caring about me. The time I made him stop so I could go buy condoms, he just about threw my purse at me as I ran out the door. He was furious that I would make him stop over something like that. I’m just glad he did eventually stop. I wasn’t sure he would.”

I was having a hard time keeping my breathing even, keeping myself seated on the couch instead of pacing the room or looking for something to hit. But the same as with cancer, hitting something right now wouldn’t do anything to help. This had all happened in the past. I couldn’t go back in time and undo it. I couldn’t erase it from Katie’s memory, or my own now that I knew the extent of it.

“Do I want to know what happened when you came back?” I asked. I really didn’t want to know, because I was fucking positive that once she’d returned with condoms, he’d forced himself on her. And if that was what he’d done…

She shook her head.

“Do I
need
to know?”

“I think you already do. At the very least, I bet you’re close.”

“He raped you,” I said.

She scooted over, easing herself out of my embrace and leaving a void where she’d been. “I don’t know if I’d call it rape,” she said.

“Did you want it? Did you give consent? Did he force you?” I tried not to let my anger come through in my voice because it wasn’t Katie I was mad at. I wanted to follow her to the other end of the couch, to draw her into my arms again. To hold her. But the last thing I would ever do was push her into something she didn’t want. It took a hell of a lot of willpower, but I stayed where I was, my hands itching to caress and comfort her. I grabbed hold of my thighs to make sure I didn’t do anything to cross a line, whether it was one I could see or not.

She shook her head. “It just happened,” she said. Excusing it. Brushing it off. “I let it happen. We were together, and I let it happen. If anything, it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. There was no fucking excuse for what he’d done to her. And based on everything else she’d said about it, I doubted that was the only time he’d raped her.

She shuddered, as if she could shake it off now. Or maybe she was trying to shake off the truth of what I’d said.

“That was after we’d been here at the holidays,” she said. “He said I’d flirted with you, and maybe I’d fucked you while he wasn’t looking—although don’t ask me how he thought that would have happened—and he was pissed off that I’d pushed him into doing the Light the Lamp event for New Year’s. And he took it out on me.”

“Was that the worst?” I asked, my voice cracking on the words. “Please tell me that was the worst he did to you.”

She shook her head. “But it’s bad enough. I don’t think I need to go into detail. Do I?”

If she went into any more detail, I would end up either puking or breaking my hand. Maybe both.

“No. That’s enough as long as you think it is.”

She looked up, her beautiful blue eyes streaked with red and glistening with unshed tears. “So here’s the part where you tell me you were wrong. That you see me differently now, and maybe I’m not good enough for you.” She scoffed. “This is the part where you cut ties and move on. Where you come to your senses.”

“No, it’s not.” I trailed a hand down her arm, seeking her hand. She let me take it. Her skin was warm and soft, and goose bumps pricked up along the path I’d followed. I raised our hands to my mouth and kissed the backs of her knuckles. “This is the part where I finally get to prove that I may not be perfect, but I’m perfect for you.”

Jamie should be
disgusted by the way I’d allowed my agent to manipulate me and then so easily caved in to peer pressure in order to be accepted by Jesse. He should be furious about how I’d been so weak-willed that I had let Beau treat me the way he had. If Jamie had any sense at all, he would be sending me on my way, back to my own house, and telling me he’d had second thoughts about me and I needed to stay out of his life, that he deserved better. Because he did. He deserved to have a woman who was as good and kind and pure as he was. Not someone like me.

But he wasn’t doing any of those things. He was caressing my hand and kissing my knuckles, and I was at a loss as to how he couldn’t see that it was wrong.

“I don’t deserve you,” I said.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to say bullshit things like that anymore.”

“But that was before you knew. God, Jamie. Your deep, dark secret was that you’ve never slept with someone before, but mine—”

“Isn’t a secret any longer.”

I shot my gaze up to meet his. He looked back at me, as steady and sure as ever. There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in his expression or the way he held my hand.

“Now we both know where we’ve been,” he said. “We can move forward with both eyes open. We’re not jumping into anything blind without checking to be sure there’s a safety net in place.”

“I haven’t had a safety net in years.” Not since I’d left Portland. I hadn’t had my parents there to help me find my way. I hadn’t had Luke and Dani around to rely on.

I hadn’t had Jamie.

“Now you do,” he said. “That’s what I can be for you.”

It’s what he’d always been. I’d just been stupid enough to leave him behind.

“You still want to?” I asked. I knew I’d hurt him with the things I’d done. Hell, I’d hurt myself. How could he forgive me so readily when it had been months since I’d gotten up the gumption to leave Beau behind, but I still hadn’t forgiven myself?

“Still,” Jamie said. “Always.” He closed the distance between us, the heat of his body far headier than any drug I’d ever tried. He tipped my chin up, met my gaze. “I’ve never stopped wanting you, Katie. I only want you more now. I want to love you the way I should have been all along.”

“Oh,” I whispered just as his lips pressed to mine and stole my breath.

The kiss started out gentle and indulgent, a luxuriant tease. I put my hands in his hair and held him to me, my tongue slick against his as he leaned over, angling me against the arm of the sofa. But then our pulses went spastic and our breathing became ragged, and everything kicked up a few degrees on the intensity scale.

I tugged on his shirt, dragging it free from his pants so I could splay my hands on his abs. They were muscled, defined, and taut to my touch. I spread my palms up and out, lifting his shirt as I explored his chest and shoulders.

He sat back on his knees, straddling me, and impatiently jerked it the rest of the way over his head. His eyes were dark with lust when he looked down again. I reached for the fly of his pants, my hand brushing against his hardness as I unzipped him. He pulsed against my fingers, heat and straining need.

I finally undid his pants enough that I could lower them some. His dick sprang free.

“Oh God.” He slammed his eyes closed. “Maybe we should slow down. I need— Tell me…tell me what you need. Tell me how to make this good for you.”

That was when I knew there was no chance he was going to last long—not this first time—but that was okay. This time couldn’t be about me. I pushed back on his chest so I could climb out from under him. “Stay right there.”

He fell back onto the couch cushions, a dismayed look in his eye, as I rushed into the kitchen for the bag from the drugstore. I dug through it, found the box of flavored condoms, and came back, ripping a foil wrapper open with my teeth. He reached for it, but I shook my head and kept it away from him. Then I kneeled on the floor between his legs and placed it on the tip. He moved his hand in as if to unroll the condom over his length, but I swatted him away. I took him in my mouth, using the pressure of my lips to properly position the strawberry-flavored thing.

I should have tried the strawberry ones years ago. They were a little sweet and a little tart, and best of all, they didn’t taste like latex. Who knew?

When I pulled back, pointing my tongue to drag along the underside of Jamie’s cock, he let out a ragged breath, his hands fisting in the cushions on either side of him. I drew back and licked my lips, then looked up. His face was red with strain, and his eyes had turned so dark they were almost black.

“Did you like that?”

“So fucking much I can’t even…” The rest of his words fell off into nothingness because I swirled my tongue around his head. “Ahh.”

“Let me know when I do something you like.”

“I like everything you’re doing.”

I grinned, bracing myself with a hand on each of his thighs. “You can put your hands on my head. Direct me where you want me.” Then I bobbed down again, taking as much of his length in as I could.

He didn’t talk to me at all, but after a bit of exploration and gauging his response based on the way his hips nearly jerked up off the couch, I figured out what was working for him so I could do more of it. Every now and then, he let out deep, growly sounds that let me know I was absolutely figuring him out.

I added a hand to the mix, stroking his shaft and gently massaging his balls while I focused on his crown with my lips and tongue.

“Oh. Oh fuck.” He put his hands in my hair, getting a good grip, and I knew he was about to come. “Katie, I—” His sac tightened, and his hands tightened against me as his hips came up almost involuntarily.

I kept doing as I had been, seeing him through his climax, until he relaxed his hands and ran them through my hair instead of holding me by it. I turned my head to the side, resting it on his thigh.

When I opened my eyes, it was to find two gigantic feline eyes, almost solid black and so big they were about to burst out of Blackbeard’s head. He had his front paws on the same thigh and was sniffing like he meant business, too, apparently wide awake after all the activity on the sofa he’d been using as a bed. I burst into laughter.