“I turned eighteen a couple of days ago,” I answer. “I should have left then, but I’ve been looking for a job so I could afford a place to stay when I left.”
The hopelessness of my situation washes over me, and I feel a knot of anxiety form in my tummy.
“You can stay with me,” he offers.
I look at him in surprise. “I couldn’t possibly—“
He cuts me off with, “As long as you need to. I’ve got an extra bedroom.”
I look up at him, trying to gauge whether he’s serious or not or whether he’s just being nice because he feels sorry for me, but what does it matter anyway?
I look down at my bare feet that I know are cracked and bleeding. I don’t even have any shoes.
What choice do I really have?
* * *
Damon
“I was thinking about getting a roommate anyway,” I add when she’s silent. That’s not true, but I could have thought of getting one. What is true is that I have a two-bedroom apartment. It was all that had been available at the time, and I’d needed somewhere to live immediately, so I’d taken it. If it gets her to stay, that’s all that matters. Suddenly, it’s more important to me than ever that she stay with me where I can make sure she’s safe.
“Maybe just for tonight,” she concedes.
“As long as you need,” I add firmly.
She doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but when she finally does, she just says, “Thank you.” Her tone is genuinely grateful, and it tugs at my heart. When is the last time anyone was truly grateful for anything I had to offer?
I pull into the parking lot and kill the engine before getting out of the car and going around to open her door.
She winces when she steps from the SUV and puts weight on her feet, so I reach down and scoop her into my arms without a word. This little bunny is injured, but I’m going to take care of her now.
Her arms go around my neck as she meekly protests, “I can walk.”
“You’re hurt,” I tell her simply before settling her against my chest. Fuck, she feels so good pressed against me, and that sweet berry scent wafts up to me. I have to fight against inhaling deeply. I want to eat her up. I bet she tastes just as sweet as she fucking smells.
She weighs nothing, and I feel my cock starting to harden and press against the zipper of my jeans again as I think of how close my arm is to her barely legal pussy.
Shit, I haven’t been with a women since I got released six months ago, but I know that’s not what’s fueling my desire for her. I’m not just hard up for a quick fuck. I could have gotten that a long time ago if that’s all I’d wanted. I’d refrained from being with anyone after I got out, though, because I’d been busy rebuilding my life, making something of myself. Plus, I just wasn’t into casual sex anymore. I had two capable hands to take care of my needs with and decided if I was ever with a woman again, it would be because I wanted her—all of her.
It suddenly hits me like a ton of bricks. I’ve been waiting.
I’ve been waiting for her. For Hadley. This sweet little angel I have cradled in my arms right now.
Don’t ask me how the fuck I know this. I just fucking do. Something deep inside me calls to me to protect her. To worship her.
Nothing has ever felt so right as holding her. My arms instinctively tighten around her as I carry her up the outdoor stairs to my apartment.
I set her gently down long enough to fish the key from my pocket, and then I hoist her back up into my arms to carry her across the threshold.
She doesn’t protest at all. She just lays in my arms trustingly as I carry her over to lay her on the couch.
I look down at her with her dark hair fanning out all around her, her lips full and lush, her eyes wide, and I know in that moment I’m never going to be able to let her go.