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I reappear a few moments later and spread her legs, cleaning her perfect pussy that I made so fucking messy. Tossing the washcloth to the floor behind me, I crawl into the bed with her and pull her naked body into my chest, relishing in the way she shudders against me.
“You’re mine, Keira. Mine. I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks. After what happened between us tonight, I can’t just let you go. I can’t.” My admission shocks the hell out of me as well as Keira, from the shocked expression she gives me.
She shifts slightly to look up at me. “Do you really mean that? Like…really mean it? Because seeing you with that stripper today…it hurt me.”
Her creamy white cheeks heat. She seems embarrassed, and I don’t understand why.
“I’m confused about how I feel. I don’t want to like you, but I do. Or at least I like you when we’re alone together…like this.”
“I can’t always be this person. People rely on me. I have to show a certain amount of hardness. I have to be a prick because I need people to be scared of me, and I have to do things you may not always like. At the end of the day, I’m still a criminal, baby.”
And I don’t know how to do this…any of it. Relationships are not for me, but I can’t just have Keira as a fuck buddy.
“So, you’re saying you are not really a prick? You just pretend to be one?” She gives me a smile, full of teeth and pure happiness.
“No, I’m definitely a prick, and I’ll always be one.” I pause for a moment, gathering my thoughts.
“What I’m saying is I don’t have to be a prick with you…when we are alone. Other than that, I can’t promise anything. I can work on my emotions, on how I treat you in the presence of others, but I can’t promise you anything. I’m not a good man, Keira. I’m not, and I won’t pretend to be, not even for you.”
Keira doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and I wonder if she fell asleep. Then she sighs, and asks, “Will you see her again?”
I blink. “Will I see who again?” I whisper into her hair, inhaling her scent. Our scents have mixed together. I can’t tell where she ends, and I start.
“Her. The stripper.”
I contemplate my response. I’m a man, and I have needs, but Keira may be the one to curb those needs.
I imagine how she felt seeing me with Hayley. I really didn’t think about it before. Putting myself in her shoes…I can’t imagine how I would have felt if I would have caught Keira with another guy. The mere thought leaves me furious. I would have cut his heart out of his chest before he even had a chance to pull up his pants.
“Not if you don’t want me to…” I tiptoe around my response. I don’t want to hurt Keira—not anymore. “I want you, and I’d rather it be you, but…” I trail off, unsure of what to say. I can’t image touching another woman now, not after touching her.
“I want to give myself to you. I’m just scared. Could we kind of work up to it? I told you I’d give you something in return for your promise to protect me.
I shake my head, holding her tightly against my chest. “No, Keira. I want you because you want me. Not because you want my protection. I’ll protect you either way, because no one is touching you. No one. But if you want to give yourself to me, if you want me to fuck you because you want it, then I will—when you’re ready.”
The words don’t even sound like something I would say, but then again, I’m not the same man I was an hour ago. Keira has cracked something inside me—she’s opened up my heart. Now I understand what Hero was saying about Elyse. I can’t imagine someone telling me I couldn’t have Keira.
“So, we’re okay?” Keira whispers, her voice sounding sleepy, and I realize how late it must be.
“More than okay, baby. More than okay.” I kiss her softly, my lips melting against hers. I’m pretty sure I’ll want her this way forever—which scares the hell out of me. In my world, love is a weakness—and weaknesses aren’t something I can afford.
Chapter 9
Keira
For the first time in days, I wake refreshed. My body feels relaxed instead of tense. I sink into the soft mattress, my eyes opening lazily. Then I realize I’m not in my bed, but Damon’s. His heavy arm is wrapped around my midsection, protecting me like a thick, steel band, holding me to him.
I’ll never admit it aloud, at least not right now, but feeling this close to Damon, feeling his possessiveness, sparks something inside me. Something I don’t really understand. It’s a foreign emotion, but one I want to feel again and again. I let my mind wander to the things he said to me last night. Damon wants to be kind to me—and above all he can be—which tells me he’s not really the twisted asshole he makes himself out to be.
