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I chortled, “What is it?” when her upper lip lifted.
“Nothing.”
“That sure doesn’t look like nothing.” I couldn’t stop smiling because my ego suggested she didn’t like hearing about me with other women. I was totally okay with that.
The look in her green eyes told me she wanted to say more, but then she looked away. “Let’s get you back to bed.” Turning her side to me, she tucked under my arm to help me. “You’re paling.”
This time I didn’t argue. I felt like shit. I hurt and was still contemplating puking.
Once back to the bed, I attempted to lie back down when a dizzy spell hit me. “Shit.”
Elle tightened her hold and guided my body down to the mattress.
My extraordinary ego now crying in some corner, I joked, “I’m still hot, right?’
Fluffing a pillow behind my head, she assured me, “I never thought you were.”
I would have challenged that lie, but I was entranced by the naked breast dangling in my face. “Um, babe? I need all my blood in my stomach to heal me. Not elsewhere.”
Peering down, she laughed, “Oh! Sorry.” She stood straight, robbing me of a delightful highlight of the night, and grabbed a bottle of pills on a little nightstand. Handing me a pill, she said, “Here.”
I took the offered pill and water, and swallowed both, still checking out her perfect mounds.
“Do you want to touch them?”
Her tone wasn’t flirty, but slightly robotic again, which taught me a firm lesson; the simple act of ‘looking’ needs to be invited. Her tone told me to ogle was a violation she had, sadly, become accustomed to.
My eyes found hers and held on.
Still adjusting to the revelation—the violation I had committed, too many times to remember—I slowly shook my head. “No. I won’t touch them until you want me to.”
Her head tilted. “Why would I ever want that?”
At that very second, that colossal and painful second, I realized Elle had never been touched by anyone who hadn’t meant her harm. The scars on her back were only a hint of all the scars inside.
Again, I found myself stepping up to be the man she needed. “Because… if your breasts are touched with sincerity, it can feel amazing.”
Her mouth parted in wonder.
If a gentle touch could be so foreign to her, I suspected being invited into a bed, and not forced, could be a new beginning of sorts for Elle.
I patted the spot on the bed next to me. “Would you like to join me?”
Her parted mouth sucked in air… then a faint smile appeared. “I would love that.”
It was… difficult to watch her crawl into bed, studying me the whole time, as if not sure if I would attack or not. I had to keep telling myself that I would make sure she had as many choices as I could offer. Her vote would always count for something. That would get complicated when it came to club business, but I’d help her understand that those were laws not even a VP could change.
Elle laid on her back, a little stiffly, but that’s not what bothered me most. It was when she apologized for her shoulder rubbing mine. It reminded me of when I had woken, earlier, her holding my hand…
“For what?” I’d hoped her shoulder touching mine was only the beginning! I had hoped she would snuggle up to my side. And I wasn’t even a snuggler!
Her brows bunched. “Uh, for touching you.”
Blink. Blink. “Er, didn’t you just touch me over there?” I gestured toward the door, where we held each other. “Where we kissed?”
Baffled, she explained, “But… we were standing.”
As patient and understanding as I wanted to be, I was still a man. A biker at that. I was used to getting my dick wet whenever and as often as I wanted. A dance to a woman’s heart was a new mystery for me.
