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I held her to me. “I didn’t mean to cut your time outside short, but I need to feel you.”
She nuzzled to me. “Okay, I’m here.”
We didn’t talk. We just held each other.
Once I had calmed down, she had me eat my turkey sandwich. Then she cleared the tray and gave me another pill but stayed with me this time. Maybe all her crying made her tired, too, because we fell asleep.
When a scream woke me in the night, and I knew Elle was still asleep, I reached over my head and rapped my knuckles on the wall.
Fortunately, she woke quite quickly. Realizing where she was, she laid her head on my chest. “Lynx.”
My arms felt so good around her. “Yeah?”
“You are the first person to hold me since Mammy died.”
Another first. This one was hard to celebrate. So many years without an embrace or shred of affection. “Did your dad try to stop you from giving yourself to Lorenzo?”
I could still hear Pops’ roars as I was taken from him by the cartel.
Her exhale brushed across my chest. “Oh, Duke. Had he, it would have made all the years so much easier to bear.”
I stared at the ceiling, even though I couldn’t see in the dark. “I wouldn’t have let you go. Not to save my ass from a mistake I made.”
“I believe you. There is something so genuine about you.”
I chuckled. “More biker charm?”
Giggling, she scooted closer. “That’s right. I love me some leathered charm.”
“If that ain’t a t-shirt slogan, I don’t know what is.”
“I’d wear it proudly.”
Right under the cut I’ll be claiming you with. “Already seeing it in my head.” You bent over while I—
“You’re not thinking dirty things, are you?”
“Me? Never.”
Chapter eighteen
Holding Hate
Lynx
Never had I blindly reached for a girl in the morning. I had always hoped they were long gone by the time I woke. Getting my dick wet the night before had been all I needed. There was no guilt over it. The club girls and I had arrangements: make me come… then get the fuck out. No matter how drunk I was, I had never been happy to feel warmth next to me. I had never opened my eyes and taken a breath, appreciating an unexpected gift.
Through a crack between the curtains, the morning sun shone a beam of light directly on Elle. On her stomach, her blonde hair spread across the pillow like an offered road map for me to follow. My t-shirt she wore had risen, exposing her back—another road map.
This time to her heart.
Even though the scars spoke of past pain, I knew she and I would build many memories of the opposite. There was so much goodness to be had.
Speaking of goodness, below those scars were two mounds that were so impeccable I envied the G-string Sweets bought her.
Sucking in air, I appreciated the fact I felt rejuvenated waking up next to Elle.
All of her.
