He’d thought it would be easy to have sex with Missy and keep it casual the way he’d always done with women. Just some fun between consenting adults. He’d gotten much more than he’d bargained for and was so damn grateful he hadn’t completely fucked it up.
When bubbles frothed around his hands, he dumped the soap and began to rub his hands over her shoulders.
“That feels so good,” she moaned, tilting her head forward to give him better access.
“It certainly does.” He slipped his hands around her sides and found her breasts. She laughed. Leaning back, she twisted her neck around, offering her lips for a kiss. There was no way to resist such temptation, not that he even wanted to.
He’d committed himself the moment he’d told her everything. Hell, he’d been lost long before that. He just hadn’t been willing to admit it to himself. Missy was everything that had been missing in his life. Everything he’d ever wanted, but had never imagined he’d ever have.
He worked his soapy hands downward and was pleased when she immediately parted her thighs for him. He washed her and then rinsed the soap away. This wasn’t about arousing her, but about taking care of her.
When he finished, he got comfortable and eased her back against his chest. “Talk to me.” He wanted to know about her past.
She squirmed around until she found a spot she liked. By that time his dick was as hard as a spike again, but he had no plans to get derailed. Not yet.
Missy picked up his hand and threaded her fingers through his. The contrast of light and dark skin in the candlelight almost pushed aside his good intentions. Almost.
“You’re stalling, babe.”
She sighed. “I know.” She took a moment and gathered her thoughts before continuing. “It’s not an unusual story. My father was a violent man. It was worse when he was drinking, which seemed to be more often than not. He did some time in jail, mostly for assault. Bar brawls. Once for minor theft. Did a few months for domestic violence, but my mom took him back when he got out.”
“I’m sorry.” And he was. As poor as he’d been, as hard as his childhood had been, he’d always had the love and support of his mother.
She nodded and he wrapped his arms around her, wanting to drive away the memories even as he wanted her to share them with him.
“I was the youngest. I had an older sister and two older brothers. My sister left when she was sixteen. Got the nerve to go to a shelter. They helped her finish school and get a job. My brothers were like my dad. They liked to drink and hit things when they were mad.”
“Did they ever hit you?” Pure molten fury welled up inside him, almost exploding when she shrugged. That said it all.
“I learned to hide, to stay away from home.”
T.S. kissed her temple and silently offered her his strength. It was all he could do. There was no way to go back in time and change her past. If anyone understood that, it was him.
She took a deep breath and continued. “From an early age I knew what I wanted. A life completely different from my parents’. My mom was like a shadow, always watching my father, trying to figure out his mood so she could do whatever it took not to make him angry. When he wasn’t around she drank to forget how hopeless her life was.”
“That’s no way to live.” T.S. couldn’t imagine hitting a woman. His mother had raised him better than that.
“No,” she agreed. “It’s not. That’s why I studied hard and rarely dated. I saw other girls my age getting pregnant and ending up in bad relationships just like their parents. That’s when the teasing started. I was uppity, cold, icy, frigid. I can’t tell you the number of guys who offered to help me with my problem.”
T.S. wanted to find them all and beat them to a pulp. But that wouldn’t help Missy. “I’m sorry, babe.” His voice was rough with unvoiced emotion.
She shrugged. “It made me strong. Determined. I left home as soon as I had my high school diploma. I worked while I went to college on a scholarship. I put my past behind me and made a new one. I learned how to dress, how to speak properly, how to conduct myself in a business situation. I educated myself about music, art, and theatre. I wanted to be someone.”
The last word was said so fiercely it made his heart hurt. “You are someone.” He adjusted her so she was lying against his shoulder and he could see her face. “You’re a very special woman, Missy Sinclair.”
She smiled through the sheen of tears in her eyes. She hadn’t shed one. Not his tough Missy. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
He kissed her then because he had to. Her grace, her strength of will, humbled him. She opened for him on contact and it made his heart soar. She was his and he’d damn well take good care of her. Not because she needed him to. She was one hell of an independent woman. No, he’d do it, not because she needed him to, but because he wanted to.
He tasted desire and acceptance on her lips. His tongue sank inward and she welcomed him. Their mouths met again and again as soft as a whisper. There was no hurry, no agenda, only the touch of two people who cared for one another and wanted to show it in the most pure way possible.
“You’re a hell of a woman,” he told her when the kiss finally ended.
A light flush covered her cheekbones. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but he knew it was there because he’d come to know her so well. She seemed uncomfortable with the compliment.
“You’re strong and independent. Doesn’t mean you’re weak if you want to lean on someone else from time to time.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. A promise. “I have wide shoulders.”
“I know.” Her words were softly spoken. “I have strong shoulders too.”
Her offer warmed him to his core. “I know.” The words sealed the pact between them. The past was just that. The future was ahead of them.
He shifted her so she was sitting on his lap again, his erection pressing against her back. She laughed. “Seems as though you have a slight problem. Again.”
“Nothing slight about it, babe.”
She pushed back against him and he groaned as his cock was trapped between her back and his stomach. “I know.” She sounded smug.
It was his turn to laugh. “Then you have to help me out here.” He lifted her until she was on her knees and spread the globes of her ass wide, giving him a perfect view of her pussy. He angled his cock so it was pressed against her slit. “Are you gonna put me out of my misery?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I? I can’t leave you like this.” She eased back, taking him into her tight channel. The candles flickered as she moved, casting erotic shadows against the walls. The water sloshed as she moved and threatened to overflow before receding.
He sat up higher, pushing her deeper. She gasped and he stilled. “You okay?” Last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her.
She practically purred. “I’m very okay.” She put her hands on the side of the tub and began to move slowly, her movements torturous as she glided up and down his shaft.
“You’re killing me, babe.” But he meant it in the best way possible.
“Want me to stop?”
In spite of the fact he was harder than steel, ready to come at any second, he laughed. Only Missy could make him hard and have him laughing at the same time. “Stop and I’ll have to take drastic measures.”
“Hmm. Do tell?”
He couldn’t take any more teasing. Not now. He gripped her hips and began to move her over his cock. The angle made it more difficult for him to get deeper, but she gripped him tighter than a wet leather glove. “That’s it. So good. So sweet,” he encouraged as she caught the rhythm.