“Salem, I need to come,” she panted.
I would have told her to hang on, that I wasn’t done with her yet, and maybe she knew that…because she sank her teeth into my throat. I pounded harder, faster, and she screamed as she came, clenching and rippling around my cock. That and her Sventé saliva sent me hurtling over the edge. I rammed into her one final time as everything I had burst out of me, filling her.
As if every ounce of energy left her body, she slumped in my arms, panting. Still shuddering with aftershocks, I cupped her face and brought it to mine. “Did I hurt you?” She was no shrinking violet, but she was still small.
Her eyes flickered open. “Only in a good way.”
Relieved, I carried her to the bathroom, took off the rest of my clothes, and then carried her into the shower stall. I didn’t put her down as we stood under the spray. There was just something satisfying about carrying her, about the fact that she let herself lean on me. This strong female who kicked ass and had a core of steel let herself be vulnerable around me. It was a balm to my protective streak, and it showed a deep trust that humbled me.
Now if only she’d trust in everything I said…
Soaping her down, I spoke into her ear. “You have to stop underestimating your importance to me.” When she went to speak, I put my finger to her mouth. “I know why you do it, but I’m not like those bastards. Stop expecting me to suddenly reject you.”
She snorted. “Says the person who’s keeping shit from me because he fears I’ll do the same to him.”
She said it with a small smile, but there was a glint of sadness in her eyes. That was when I realised…“It hurts you that I haven’t told you everything.” Jared had predicted as much, and it galled me to admit – even to myself – that the cocky bastard was right.
“Does it hurt that I’ve bared my soul and you haven’t? Yes. Because it means you don’t trust me.”
“I do fucking trust you. Never say that.” She was the only person I trusted completely.
She shook her head sadly as she struggled to get down and then rinsed off the soap. “If you trusted me, you’d tell me everything, because you’d trust that I’d stay with you no matter what.”
Turning off the spray, I stepped out of the stall and grabbed two towels. “It isn’t about trust.”
“Yes, it is,” she stated firmly, accepting the towel I offered her and wrapping it around herself. “You say I underestimate my importance to you. You do exactly the same thing.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way before. But she was right. The fact that I expected her to leave indicated that I didn’t sense my importance to her. But then, I’d never really expected to be important to her.
Following me into the bedroom, she continued. “That you think I’ll reject you hurts, just like it hurts you that I worry you’ll reject me.”
I whirled on her. “Baby, why wouldn’t you reject me? I’m selfish. I’m aggressive, and pushy, and rude, and short-tempered. Not to mention possessive and jealous when it comes to you.”
“You’re also loyal, hard-working, protective, trustworthy, and a damn good soldier. Although you’re an interfering bastard at times, you’re also considerate and attentive; I don’t care if that’s only with me – it’s still a side of you that exists.”
Her words both warmed and hurt. Warmed because she saw good in me when I was pretty sure few else did. And hurt because I knew I could destroy the good she saw in just one conversation if she pushed for me to tell her everything.
“If you’re so certain I’ll turn away from you, wouldn’t you rather find out sooner instead of later?”
No, because that would mean her leaving sooner instead of later. Keeping the towel wrapped around my waist, I lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. A ‘fuck off’ vibe had to be radiating from me. But of course Ava ignored that. She joined me on the bed and nestled against my side.
“Will you tell me a little about your mom?”
The gentle question took me by surprise. Honestly, I didn’t want to talk about my mother, didn’t want to remember what had happened to her. But better that than the other shit. “She was like you in some ways. Kind. Empathetic. But she wasn’t strong. She saw good in everyone, but it was her downfall at times.”
“What do you mean?”
I sighed. “It made her a shitty judge of character, especially when it came to men. My biological father was the worst. Hard. Cold. There was something missing in him. A conscience, maybe.” I shrugged. “He was unfaithful and he saw no reason to hide it. He…hurt her. Beat her. A lot.” I’d felt weak, powerless, and guilty that I couldn’t protect her. “He left when I was seven, and I couldn’t have been happier about it.”
“Your stepdad was better?”
“He was good to her. They had a baby. My mother devoted practically all of her attention to Josh. Like she was determined to get it right second time round. I always felt on the fringe of the family, but I wasn’t jealous. I knew she never meant to make me feel that way and it would have devastated her if she’d known.”
“So you never told her.”
“No.”
Ava lightly ran her fingers over my chest. “See, it’s not so hard to share stuff.”
Knowing what she was getting at, I met her gaze. “You really want to know the rest?”
“I think it’s time we got it out in the open so you finally realise I’m not going to leave.”
Oh, she’d leave for sure. But if I persisted in keeping this from her, I’d drive her away anyway. What was the difference?
I returned my gaze to the ceiling, unable to look at her while shame and guilt rode me. “When I was in the last year of high school, I was with this girl, Sandra. I liked her, but she always did weird shit for attention, and tried to make me jealous. I had no time for mind games or people who wanted to play them. So I broke it off with her.
“Honestly, I didn’t think it would bother her much.” I still wasn’t sure why it did. “But she took it badly. She’d call in the middle of the night, crying. She’d post crazy letters through my door. Hang around my house. Then the middle-of-the-night calls became bad; she’d call when her mother was at work, threatening to kill herself if I didn’t go to her.”