Authors: Vanessa Vale
Her eyes slipped shut as I felt her inner walls clench down on me. I couldn’t hold my orgasm back any longer. I’d waited all this time for her. Watching her, I could tell when she was close, could feel it, too. Her thighs tightened on my hips and her nipples pebbled even further against my chest.
Long deep strokes had me close, but it was her orgasm that had me coming with a groan. She practically milked the cum from my cock as she came all over me, my name a quiet gasp on her lips. I groaned at the pleasure, shifting my hips to eek every last bit of it from her body.
Breathing hard, I fell to my side, pulling her into me. My hand rested across her torso and perfectly placed, cupped her breast. This was my everything, right here, and there was no going back.
I should have resisted, but I was weak. I should have kept her at a distance, but I had no willpower. I should have kept her away from me and the problems my father brought me, and in turn, her, but I lost the battle. She was too strong of an opponent and while I'd given it my all, it seemed love came out the victor.
Shit.
The sound of my cell vibrating against the bedside table had us stirring, but I ignored it. Instead, I reluctantly climbed from the bed and went to the bathroom to get rid of the condom. By the time I returned, Emory had pulled the sheet over her. I inwardly sighed at her modesty—there wasn’t a part of her I hadn’t seen—but was sweetly pleased by her continued innocence.
“You have no qualms about being naked, do you?” she asked, the corner of her mouth turning up toward a smile. Her eyes roved over my body and latched on to my groin. My cock stirred to life beneath her intent gaze and it made her eyes widen. “Already?” she asked with breathy surprise.
Placing one knee on the edge of the bed, I yanked the covers from her grip, ready to show her a few more ungentlemanly things, but my cell vibrated again.
“You should get that,” she told me. I was enjoying seeing the desire in her eyes.
I sighed, not wanting
anything
or
anyone
to get in the way of being with Emory, but ignoring the world didn’t mean it would go away.
I leaned and grabbed the phone. “Yeah.”
“I found him.” Reed.
I took my leg off the bed and turned away from Emory. I didn’t want the sight of her naked body, of her innocence, combined with any conversation about my dad.
“Where?”
“Atlantic City. He’s been there since Tuesday.”
I hit the
End
button and tossed my cell back on the table where it clattered then fell onto the floor.
This news meant he either arranged for someone to break in to Emory’s house or knew nothing about it. I had a niggling, annoying feeling that it was the latter. That meant there was someone out there—not my father—who wanted to hurt Emory.
“What is it?” Emory asked behind my back.
I wanted to keep her separate, keep her safe from my past. I’d wanted to push her away, even told her I was nothing but trouble for her, but neither of us, it seemed, cared. I wanted the present, the
now,
to be much stronger than the past, but that was not a sure thing right now.
I turned, eyed her.
She tilted up her chin. “Tell me. I want to know. I
need
to know.”
I gave a stiff nod and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. I grabbed the top of the sheet and lifted it up. She somehow knew I wanted her covered. Maybe it was the grim set to my jaw or the pissed-off glint in my eye.
“It’s time I told you about my past. My dad.”
EMORY
All of the heat that had been in Gray’s eyes was gone, and what was left was icy and empty. I held the sheet up over my breasts and leaned back against the headboard. While Gray was naked and sitting sideways on the bed, it felt better being covered for this, wanting only the other Gray, the eager-for-me Gray, to see my body.
“My father was, is, an asshole.” Gray leaned down, resting his forearms on his thighs. He wasn’t looking at me, but at the far wall, although I wasn’t sure if he was even seeing it. He was looking into his past, into his memories and I dreaded what he was going to say.
“He used to hit my mom. When I was really little, all I remember is them shouting, the sound of the slaps, her crying. I would hide in the closet.”
The words came out short and clipped, dark and laced with grit. I wanted to ask him questions, but knew it was hard enough to get the words out without prodding. He’d held them in, probably, for a long time.
“In the morning, she’d be making me pancakes and she’d have a black eye or a split lip. Sometimes she’d still be in bed and I’d get her cereal. I…I knew what he was doing and I did nothing to stop him.”
Sadness and anger filled me, overflowed, thinking of Chris when he was small and him having to deal with that. “You were just a boy.” I wanted to reach out and touch him, but he was too far away, too far in the past.
His head moved back and forth slowly. “I was. But I
knew.
Then one day I’d had enough of hiding and stood between
him
and my mom.”
He turned his bleak eyes on me. “That was the start of my fighting career.” Then, from one heartbeat to the next, he changed. His gaze sharpened, his jaw tightened, his fists clenched. “It was one of the last fights I lost.”
It was so quiet in the room I heard the air conditioning coming through the vents in the floor.
“My mother died two weeks later.” He dropped his head and looked at the carpet. “Car crash. I was in the backseat. The story is that she was so drunk she drove right into a tree. What I remember is that my father was driving. When I woke up in the hospital two days later, my father didn’t have a scratch. I’d broken my arm and had a concussion from the accident, but my mother died instantly.”
My eyes widened and I licked my lips. “Are you saying your dad moved your mom so it looked like she caused the accident?”
“All I know is my dad was driving when we got in the car, but no one believes a kid. I had a head injury and my dad said I didn’t know what I was talking about. After that, when I got home, he turned his anger on me.”
My eyes filled with tears. Tears of sadness and horror. “How…how old were you?”
“Eight.”
My eyes widened and I forgot about the sheet, crawling across the bed to kneel behind him, wrap my arms around his waist and place my head against his strong back.
He placed one hand over my forearm and gripped tightly. “By the time I was in seventh grade, I had enough anger in me to start fights in school. I was suspended all the time but couldn’t tell my dad, so I left the house in the morning, pretending to go to school. My gym teacher, God,” he sighed. “Mr. Jahn. He saved me. He recognized what others missed, that something was going on at home. At gym class, he made me do extra laps to burn off the angst. After school one day, he took me to a boxing gym.”
“He just took you?” I thought of Chris’ private school gym teacher just driving him to a boxing gym. He’d get fired and possibly arrested for the action.
“My dad didn’t give a shit where I was as long as when it came time for a happy family photo I was there. It was different back then anyway. I went, grudgingly, but found an outlet in the structure of boxing. The rules, but the ability to use my hands, to beat the shit out of someone and not get in trouble.”
I kissed the warm skin of his back, urging him without words to continue, that I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I started to box competitively, but that wasn’t enough. The gym added karate and Muay Thai classes and I took them all. It was better to hang out at the gym than at home. My grades improved, my fighting at school stopped. I owe it all, including graduating, to Mr. Jahn. The week after, I went into the Army. I couldn’t get any farther from my dad than where the Army could send me. The Middle East was easy.”
I didn’t think that was the case, but based on what he was sharing, perhaps he was right. “If you were able to get away from him, why is he calling you now?”
“He’s followed my career. My tours overseas. Everything.” He released my arm and turned so he could face me. “Kept tabs on me. I’m the only person who can truly hurt him, his career. He can’t kill me like he did my mom, but he can fuck with me. Ruin any happiness I have.”
His eyes met mine and he lifted a hand to stroke his fingers over my cheek. “He’s trying to get to me through you.”
I grasped his hand and held it in place. “Why? I don’t understand. You haven’t done anything to him, even joined the Army to get away. Why doesn’t he just leave you alone?”
His eyes narrowed in frustration. “Heard the name Edward Green?”
I frowned, the name meaning nothing, then I remembered. “Holy crap, Gray. You mean Green Acres, the retirement homes?”
He nodded. “Nursing homes, retirement communities, memory care centers. He’s cornered the elderly care market on the East Coast. He’s big time, but not so big on his own. No one cares about a guy who’s made a fortune in taking care of old people. Those are his words, not mine.” He paused before he continued. “I think it pisses him off that I made it big, bigger than he’ll ever be.”
“He’s making you mad though, and that’s got to worry him. Retribution from an MMA fighter with your connections has got to be something he has to consider. That makes no sense. Leaving you alone, forgetting you exist is a better strategy.”
“In the past, he just called every once in a while to fuck with me, reminding me that he was around, watching, even from far away. That’s it.”
I looked at him, really
looked
at him. I was missing something, the missing piece that stirred up his past, that had his dad back in his life, pestering him, annoying him, making him angry and tense. It had to be something important to him and—
Of course.
I froze, my eyes going wide, so wide at the realization. I could see in his eyes that I was right that there was more. Pulling back, I climbed off the bed, not caring I was naked. “It’s me.
I’m
the reason he’s calling. He knows about me.”
I talked as I paced back and forth on the far side of the bed while Gray sat motionless, only his eyes following.
“He’s using me to mess with you.” I pointed to myself, then at him. “This isn’t fair to you, what he’s doing.”
“I know,” he said, resigned. “It’s more than that. He texted you.”
I froze in place. “Texted
me
?”
He nodded, reaching for my cell on the bedside table. “Last night when you were in the shower. I heard it ring from your bag and pulled it out to make sure it wasn’t Chris. I recognized the number, Emory.”
I took my phone from him, slid my fingers over the screen until the text came up. Read it. My stomach plummeted. While my son was fully grown and legally an adult, that didn’t make him any less my baby. No one messed with my kid, and now Gray had the extra weight of this on his shoulders as well. I glanced at Gray’s hard eyes. “Your dad knows about Chris.”
He nodded.
“I…I have to go. You shouldn’t have to deal with this or with him after what he did to you.” I moved quickly around the bed for the door.
“What? Wait!” He used his swiftness to jump to his feet and grab my arm, halting me in my tracks, spinning me to face him, confusion on his face. “Where are you going?”
My heart was racing and I was frantic. “Where am I going? He knows about Chris,” I repeated. “I can’t stay here, be with you like this with that…that crazy man. Jesus, Gray, you’ve been through so much, God, the horrors you had to deal with when you were just a child and now you’ve got the added weight of me. But messing with Chris is where I draw the line.”
“He won’t touch Chris. He’s just being a fucker and pushing your buttons, which pisses me off. That’s what he wants! He wants you to leave. He’s winning,” he said, his voice snapping, his hand gripping my arm.
I sighed because he was right, but held fast to my decision. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that horrible, horrible man and he’s going after you because of me! It’s all my fault.” I tugged at his arm.
“Your fault? Are you serious?”
I didn’t respond.
“Em, baby, I’m the one who should be letting
you
go. I told you I was trouble. I told you I was no good for you. My dad, he may be behind the break in.”
I froze. His dad? His dad didn’t have anything big to bother Gray with until I walked into his life. He may have messed with Gray, pushed his buttons, but a break in? Gray didn’t need any of this. “See? I’m just adding to your mess. Before me—”
Instead of releasing me, he picked me up none too gently and tossed me on the bed so I was on my back, his hands on either side of my head. I had no chance to resist his actions as he was
so damn strong. “It is
not
your fault.” His dark eyes pierced into mine as he said it and I squirmed, rolling onto my belly, but that afforded me nothing, no way to escape.
Like the fighter he was, Gray settled on top of me so that I was pinned, the length of his body pressing mine into the bed. I couldn’t get up if I tried, but I knew he’d never hurt me. My head was turned away from him and I looked at his hand pressing into the mattress, his corded forearm.
“Before you, I…I, shit, I didn’t know that something was missing. This is what he wants,” he said in my ear, his breath fanning my neck. “He wants us to fight. He wants to see us ripped apart so I’ll be torn to shreds. If he can’t hit me anymore, he’ll get at me another way. You’re just a casualty to him and he knows how to shove the knife in with you. He knows you’ll panic by mentioning Chris. But, Emory…you and me? This is one fight I refuse to let him win.”
I felt his forehead lower and rest on the back of my head. “Baby, you’re mine. If you say you don’t feel
this
between us, then go. But you’re right there with me. I know it, so you can’t leave me because I won’t let you go.”
It wasn’t just his words that had me stilling beneath him, giving up. Giving over. It was his voice, his tone, the pleading, the need, the longing, the intensity. He was right. If his dad was trying to rip us apart, he was doing a fine job of it.