“For protection.”
“From me? Are you scared of me?”
I shook my head. “I’d never use a gun on you and you know it, even when you scare me. But I’ve always had one. Can’t sleep without knowing I have a weapon. You know that, too.”
He took both of my hands in his and made me sit on the bed. Then he dropped to his knees and rested his cheek on my thigh.
His sobs pierced the silence, and his tears seeped into the fabric of my pants, wetting my skin. A painful sigh escaped me, and I stroked his hair gently, hoping it’d ease his own pain.
We stayed like this for twenty minutes, my own tears flooding, too. Then, without changing his position, he finally spoke. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how I feel about you. I meant it when I said I couldn’t live without you, Jo. Literally.”
“You can’t say things like that. That’s emotional blackmail. You can’t think like this either.”
“I can’t help it. It’s how I feel. I’m not trying to blackmail you. I’m just talking my heart out because you’re the only one I can talk to freely without filters.” He took a deep breath and lifted his head to look at me. “I don’t just love you, Jo. You own me. I fucking worship you. I’d fucking worship the dirt you walk on, if it pleased you.”
In a way, he owned me, too, even if I wouldn’t admit it to myself or even fathom it, my weakness around him was strong evidence that his power over me was a force I couldn’t fight.
Perhaps Tirone and I were destined for each other after all. Perhaps us wasn’t the mistake but the dream coming true.
He smiled at me through the tears and blood. “Do you remember what happened that night?”
We formed a bond that would never be erased, and he showed me what making love truly was. “I showed you my eyes and hair. You called me your little faerie.” I downsized it, making it awfully shallow. I was falling to pieces, and the emotional weight of the reminder would break me.
“You’re so beautiful. Stunning. But I never cared how you looked like. I’d fallen for you a long time before. You’d enchanted me and become my obsession, my lifeline.”
My tears sparkled in my vision and dropped on the back of my hands. “You’ve always made me feel beautiful.”
“Because I love you for you, not because you look like some fantasy or an old flame.” He printed a kiss on my knuckles. “But showing me your real looks wasn’t what mattered that night. You opened your soul to me, and so did I.”
“I remember.” I’d told him, without names, who I was and what destiny awaited me. He was so brave with his acceptance, and his over protectiveness doubled. He, too, shared with me his history about hisdeaddad, the dark feelings and aches he carried because of it.
“Remember what else you told me that night? I’d never forget those doe eyes you made when you said it.I’m tired of being punished.Tired of feeling like a bad girl. I want to be your good girl, and I want to earn it.”
The memory hit me hard, waves and waves of emotions and desire.
“That night I learned your body better than my own,” he said. “I gave you everything you needed, and had you writhing, screaming and begging for more.”
I licked my lips involuntarily. I breathed out slowly, averting my gaze, rubbing my thighs together, hoping it’d take down the deluge of nagging need a notch.
“Don’t try to hide or deny it. It’s what you need, and I’m right here, begging you to let me take care of you because you’re such a good girl.”
“Tirone…um…you’re bleeding and hurt. Let me… Jesus… Let me help you first.”
“See?” His lips feathered on my fingers before his tongue licked them one by one. “Always a good girl. My good girl.”
“Oh God.” I jumped, heat cascading from my cheeks to my neck and down to my core. I fumbled with the drugstore bag, but I couldn’t focus or even see what was inside. I was thinking with my ovaries. Everything in me with wrapped around the memory and the impulsive arousal those two fucking words induced. “Can you wait for me in the bathroom and run the hot water please?”
“You got it,Miss Meneceo. I’m your good boy, too.”
Fuck me.Biting my lip, I closed my eyes. Then I tried to even my caught breath in vain.
After several inhales and exhales, I gained a window of cohesion and managed to focus on the things I needed to patch him up. “That’s all I’m doing,” I whispered to myself. “Clean and stitch him up. Then I’m sending him to Fort and going straight to bed, alone.”
Like a good girl.
Shit.
I wiped my face with both hands, practically slapping myself. Then I shook my head with long exhale, taking the bag and heading into the bathroom.
