House Of Payne: Scout (14 page)

That surprised her. “You… you did?”

“I could finally please everyone, Scout. If I pleased everyone I was given to—and I worked hard to make sure that I did—that meant they liked me. They wanted me. They gave me everything so they could have more of me. After being hated for so long by my own family, I finally felt loved.”

“That wasn’t love, sweetheart,” she whispered, her heart breaking for the lonely, clearly confused boy he’d once been.

He nodded. “I now recognize that I was just being used. But it took being raped to open my eyes and see reality—to see that I had degraded myself just to be a cash cow for a grandmother who would never accept me.”

“I don’t get what that old bitch’s damage is,” Scout said, knowing she should probably tread lightly on this dangerous ground. But holding back her fury at how horribly he’d been abused just wasn’t happening. “Why does she hate you so much?”

“I ruined her daughter.”

“
You
ruined…?” She shook her head. “Sorry, maybe I’m still half-asleep, but I don’t get it.”

“What is there to get?”

“From what I understood, you weren’t raised by your mother, right? First it was your nanny who thankfully taught you what love was before the Wicked Granny of the West got her claws into you. For all I know, you’ve never even seen your mom other than in old magazines, so I don’t get how you
ruined
her.”

“You’re right, I have never seen her face-to-face,” came the flat reply. “Life has been exceptionally cruel to my mother, Scout, and it has left her a fragile shell of a woman. She abandoned me to the baroness to be raised because my existence was upsetting to her. It still is.”

Wow, his family just brimmed over with winners. “Why?”

“My conception was… not wanted. By anyone.”

“Your conception wasn’t up to you. It’s not like you consciously willed yourself into being just so you could piss them off. Your mother was the one who made a choice when she had you, not you.”

“Abortion is not done in the Fournier family, though according to my grandmother I was almost an exception to that rule.”

“And she just had to make sure you knew about that, did she? What a peach.”

“That is one thing she will never be. The only regret I have is all the time I wasted trying to gain her approval.” His mouth twisted into a bitter facsimile of a smile. “I mean, how sick was I? I
wanted
that twisted hag’s approval.”

“You were a
kid
.” Her heart fractured down the middle at the flash of self-hatred darkening his eyes. “You were a kid who wanted to be loved.”

“I did everything that was expected of me. I dutifully fucked whoever I was given to and ultimately I got fucked in the most soul-destroying way. But everything I gave… it was still not enough to win my own family over. So when I realized acceptance was never going to happen, I was finally done.”

“Shit.” Then she bit her lips together. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she was judging him. As a survivor herself, she could see he’d done whatever he could just to keep his head above water. “Did your grandmother know what your agent was doing to you?”

“Oh, she knew. She approved.”

Dear God. What kind of monster was this woman? “She
approved
?”

“But of course. Once when I visited her on holiday, she ‘praised’ me every chance she got for finally making myself useful. According to her, she saw me as a well-trained fuck-machine that was born to be on the casting couch. Then she would laugh and tell me to ‘keep it up.
Way
up.’ Obviously someone, probably my agent, had told her about me.”

His granny making crass jokes about her grandson’s kegel muscle-mastery was enough to make her want to barf, so she looked for a change of subject. “Um… It never occurred to me that the casting couch was still a thing.”

“Oh, yes.” His blank smile was back. But she could now glimpse the bitterness and rage lurking beneath it, and it was a terrible thing to see. “It might be clichéd, but sex and the power to extract it from beautiful children on the cusp of adulthood is how much of the international fashion world is still run. I have often wondered if everyone who made it to the top of their chosen careers sold themselves to do it. When I was growing up, that was what all the adults around me expected, so it seemed like the natural way of things.” At last he looked back at her, and the way he studied her made her wonder if he was trying to read her mind. “I would never hold it against anyone if sex was how they got what they wanted, Scout. I would understand.”

“Of course.” Worried he’d somehow picked up a judgy vibe from her when that wasn’t the case at all, she forgot about her aches and scooted off the bed to go to him, still clutching the pillow. “We all do what we have to do in order to survive. No one gets that better than me. With my crappy childhood, I know I would’ve done anything to make my world less terrifying. I won’t apologize for that, just as you shouldn’t have to apologize for anything you were forced to do. I’m totally in your corner on this.”

“You are?” His eyes searched hers, and the intensity behind it made the fracture in her heart deepen. “Have you ever considered trading sex for something in return?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I’m some holier-than-thou, sanctimonious bitch who’d judge anyone for doing whatever they could to make it. And believe me, I know all about sanctimonious bitches.”

“Oh?” Some of the harshness in his face seemed to soften. “Am I hearing the voice of experience?”

“You could say that. After Frank Bournival’s death, people came out of the woodwork to whisper that I’d screwed my way into Frank’s will. But all their snide assumptions were more of a reflection of how petty their shitty little brains were, rather than a reflection of who I am. So you don’t have to worry about me being a judgmental asshole. I have no idea what it’s like to walk in your shoes. I’ll never judge you, just as I hope you’ll never judge me. Okay?”

Something worked hard behind his shuttered eyes before he nodded once and set the camera aside. Then he curled a hand around hers as it clutched the pillow to her front. “Okay. On one condition.”

“What?”

“Lose the pillow.”

She tried to move, but he snaked his other arm around her and held her to the spot. “I’ll be happy to lose the pillow if I can get away from the windows.”

His eyes were heavy-lidded as he smiled down at her. Pure and total sexy-face. There wasn’t a woman alive who could resist that. “Why not lose it now?”

“Because I can’t just stand butt-naked right in front of the whole world, that’s why. I mean, I’m sure no one can see me up here, but still—”

“Do not be too sure about that.” There was a delicious wickedness in his eyes as he nodded to a tower further down the coastline. “But for now, you are most definitely going to stand before the whole world wearing nothing more than your beautiful flowers, and the smile I give you.”

And with that, he tugged the pillow from her hands.

Chapter Fourteen

What in God’s name had possessed him to share so much? He’d never told Estelle all of his history, and Maceio knew just a few of the highlights out of necessity.

With Scout, though, things were different. It was as though he couldn’t wait to tell her every last one of his secrets.

What the hell was wrong with him?

It hadn’t been his intention to give her anything except the greatest night of her life. Just that. But after he’d awakened to see her sleeping so peacefully, he hadn’t wanted to let it go. Her beauty had been irresistible—her dark lashes fanned out on her cheeks, her breasts pale and perfect in the early morning sunlight, the sheet draped over the lush curve of her hip. The brilliant jewel tones of the flower lei that had been tattooed around her neck and upper chest made his hands itch for his camera. It was a moment he wanted to have for the rest of his life, so he’d gone about capturing her beauty for himself.

But even as he photographed her, he knew he was missing out on capturing the true essence of who Scout was. That was in her eyes. His talent for reading people through the windows of their soul came through so vividly with her, because she didn’t hide anything. She didn’t need to. Every part of her was there for him to see. Beautiful. Honest. Compassionate. Funny.

Real.

That was why he had given her so much of himself, he realized now. It was his pathetic attempt to balance the scales, to make it up to her that he’d entered her life under false pretenses. In his petty, shitty little mind—a bang-on target description if there ever was one—it made him feel better. Cleaner. Maybe it wouldn’t matter that he’d come to her under the camouflage of a lie if he was truthful about who he was now.

And maybe then he’d be worthy of her.

“I am surprised you have any inhibitions left.” He tossed the pillow aside without bothering to see where it landed. The only thing he wanted to see was right in front of him. “Maybe I was not as thorough as I thought.”

“Oh, trust me,” she muttered pressing closer to him while casting an anxious glance toward the window, “you were perfect last night. Award-winning, even.”

“No, I think not.” Turning her away from her hiding place against him, he put her back to his chest and filled his hands with her breasts. A silent groan breathed out of him as he kneaded that feminine flesh, now decorated with the marks his mouth made. The thought of those marks alone made white-hot lust weigh heavily in his hardening dick, even as he tweaked her mauve-tipped nipples. “You are still able to walk, for one thing. And for another, there is this necessity you seem to feel for decorum and modesty. If I had done my job, you would not be able to think clearly about anything except when I should be inside you next.”

Her swallow was endearingly loud. “You know, I uh… I don’t even know if anyone can see through this glass from the outside.”

“You see? You are much too clear-headed.” He pressed against her back, his eyes drifting closed as his cock rubbed against her outstanding bubble-round ass. He opened them again when she reached back to pull his thigh closer. “I refuse to allow that to continue.”

“It’s just that I’m feeling kind of exposed here…”

“I do this because I want you to feel nothing but freedom. Free of inhibition, free of worry, free of responsibility. Let go of all the rules that keep you tethered to the mundane and let yourself do nothing but
feel
. It should prove to be a most… liberating experience.” Before his pragmatic Scout could answer, he gently nipped the side of her neck while moving a hand down her narrow torso and abdomen, then slid unerringly into her cleft.

“Oh.” The sound shot out of her like a bullet, followed by a gasp that rang around the room. The hand that wasn’t holding onto his thigh snapped out to flatten against the glass as if she believed she would have fallen without the support. “Oh…
fuck
.”

“We will, I promise.” His feet nudged hers wider apart even as he delved further. She was hot to the touch, just beginning to get wet, and already moving with him. Excellent signs. “I just have to make sure you are prepared the way I want you to be.”

“Uh, I’m…” She sucked in a sharp breath when he lightly circled her clit. Then she let it out in a low moan, and he loved the way her bones seemed to dissolve right along with it. “I’m prepared, sweetheart.”

“The way
I
want you to be.” Another circle, then another, and with each one he increased the pressure until he could feel muscles throughout her body jolt involuntarily in time with his caresses. “I can feel you getting there.”

She didn’t offer a response. He would have been genuinely disappointed in his abilities if she had still been able to talk.

“I do this for another reason as well, my Scout.” He buried his face in her dark hair and inhaled her delicate, floral scent, and knew he’d never again see another flower without thinking of her. “I do this on the off chance that someone
can
see you. That they see your pleasure and your passion, and most of all, they see that both belong to
me
.”

“Ivar.” The sinuous undulation of her hips as she ground herself against him was beautiful to watch in the pale new light of day. She was his idea of poetry in motion, and he only wanted it to continue. Without breaking his rhythm below, his other hand at her breast alternately tugged and rolled its velvety peak, and his pulse doubled when her hand came up and pressed hard over his.

More.

Harder.

Now.

So she was still able to speak to him, after all. He had to admit, he admired her fluency in body language.

“Your skin is so soft. Like silk. And you taste like heaven.” He skimmed his mouth along the curve where shoulder sloped into neck, then savored her with his tongue as he made his way to her ear. She shuddered, her movements against him growing urgent even as she turned her head to blindly seek his mouth.

The heavy throbbing in his cock made his lungs shrivel and his head swim as he gave her what she wanted. He toyed with her tongue while stroking her faster, and when she moaned down his throat his excitement grew to excruciatingly delicious levels. “Come for me,
ma
trésor.
Show me you like what I can do for you. Show me you want me.”

“More…” Little quakes began to shake her body as the sensations began to reach for that cresting wave he was pushing her to ride. “You…
more
…”

“I promise you will get whatever you want from me.”

“
No
. Want you… for more than just… just…
this
.” Her last word ended on a helpless cry as at last her climax slammed into her full force. But even as he wrapped an arm around her so she wouldn’t fall, her words exploded like grenades in his head. Without conscious thought guiding him, he propped her hands against the window to steady her, fished a condom out of his pocket and applied it before kicking his pants out of the way. But even as he spread her legs farther apart and entered her so powerfully his hips slammed into her ass, the reverberations of her statement—or at least the meaning behind it—gripped him with a fierce warmth that burned his eyes and tightened his chest until he couldn’t breathe.

She wanted him for more than pleasure.

She wanted him for more than just this moment.

She wanted
more
.

Of him.

Something miraculous glowed deep inside, a sensation that was at first unfamiliar. But as the soothing feeling bloomed in every cell, he realized it was the healing of a wound he didn’t know he had. Because of those simple words, he didn’t have to shut his own needs off to concentrate only on what she needed. He could allow himself to take as well as give, and he wouldn’t be hated for it. He didn’t have to worry that she’d reject him no matter how perfect he tried to be. She wanted him. Not just for sex. Not just for what she could get out of him.

He
was what she wanted.

All of him.

Even his demons.

A broken sound escaped his throat as he pulled her hips wildly back into him, and it was a sound he’d never heard from himself before. Then another one came as he pumped hard into her, then another, and it finally dawned on him that the restraints he’d lashed around every emotion he had in order to survive had snapped. It was terrifying and exhilarating and everything in between, and he couldn’t help but think that this was what it must be like to be brought back to life. Everything was so new it hurt, in the sweetest and most devastating way, and he wanted to feel everything at once even if that amount of sensory input killed him. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care about anything except the woman rearing back into his thrusts to bring him in as far as he would go. She wanted him for more than this. He was worth something more to her than this…

The white-hot depths gloving him tightened the faster he pushed, and he half-lay on her back as he came, almost losing the strength in his legs under a wave of pure, mind-melting bliss. But even as his orgasm took its sweet time floating him back down to earth, the intoxicating glow didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened when she took one hand off the window, caught one of his still at her hip and brought it to her heart. Everything inside him smiled when he felt it hammer against his palm. He suspected she could feel his heart doing the same against her spine.

“My heart never does this.” There was a softness to her voice he’d never heard before, and it matched the feeling blooming in him when her fingers curled around his. “I think you broke me.”

“Turnabout is fair play.” He closed his eyes to savor the floating, glowing sensation. God, he hoped it never left. “You shattered me.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“It is the best thing.” Gently he slid himself from her depths and turned her to touch his mouth to hers. “The best thing that has ever happened to me. Better yet, I have a feeling we are just getting started.”

“So, after the longest date in recent history, and the fact that you’ve yawned about a dozen times, I take it things went well with Mr. Yummilicious?”

“Mm-hm.” Stifling another yawn, Scout absently shifted through the hangers on one of the many display racks offered up by The Fierce Flamingo, Sass’s favorite grunge store.

They were in the midst of a heavy-duty retail-therapy session. Sass had finally hit the eject button on her latest man. According to Sass it had gotten ugly, complete with yelled curses and name-calling—most of it on the dumpee’s side.

Sass had a lot of practice when it came to being the dumper, but she seemed more down about this breakup than usual. Therefore retail therapy was in order, along with another Panuzzi stray, Latonya “Tonya” Jackson-Daresey. Tonya was one of the rare married strays, and was fiercely proud of her orthodontist husband and their gorgeous one-year-old daughter, Sabrina. Despite Tonya’s unflagging determination to make a solid future with her little family, she didn’t do it by turning her back on her past, which included a teen mother, no father and a cast of foster siblings at least as long as Scout’s. Sass and Tonya were the main reasons Scout was still so involved in the lives of her own vast foster family. They simply didn’t give her any other choice.

“
Mm-hm
, she says.” Pausing in her inspection of a rack of hats, Tonya—flawless light cocoa complexion, large gray eyes and caramel-colored mini corkscrew curls—slid Sass a knowing glance. “You’re closer. Give her a poke to make sure our girl’s still awake.”

“I’ve been
poked
enough in the past twenty-four hours, thanks very much.” With a sleepy laugh, Scout avoided Sass before she could be jabbed. “In every naughty way imaginable, I might add.”

“You can’t say something like that without offering up details.” Sass grabbed up a T-shirt with sugar skulls all over it and added it to her pile. “How many pokings are we talking about?”

“It’s hard to say, since Ivar’s the kegel muscle master.”

Sass’s dark eyes grew to the size of half dollars before looking to Tonya, who had gone just as googly-eyed. Then Tonya managed to find her voice. “You mean… he didn’t deflate?”

“Only when he chose to.”

Sass continued to stare. Speech was apparently beyond her.

“And… did he choose to, or did you just leave him hanging? Or not hanging, if you want to get technical about it,” Tonya corrected. Sass managed a vague nod of agreement.

“Um.” Scout slouched against the clothes rack and willed her eyes to stay open. If they closed, she was positive she’d fall asleep standing up. “After the first hour and a half, we took a break. But that was just an intermission. He finally let me sleep around five, though I’m not sure it
was
sleep. I might have just passed out.”

“Sexy accent. Sexy name. Former supermodel. Rich. Famous. Noble bloodline. Miraculous penis powers.” At last Sass spoke, only to shake her head. “If I hadn’t seen him trying to give you an oral orgasm in the parking lot, I would swear you’d made him up. Nobody’s that perfect.”

Tonya slid her a side-eye. “Oral orgasm?”