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Leaning back, she gives me a quick glance. “Get naked or I’ll break your finger with my pussy.”
I chuckle at her threat before popping my finger from her viselike grip.
“I’m going to love fucking that pussy.”
“Of course, you will,” she says, sounding edgy again.
I stand long enough to drop my jeans and boxers. Talon never even glances at my dick. She’s watching me like I’m a threat.
“You know me,” I say as I kneel on the ground.
Talon goes from wary to wide-eyed panic in an instant. “This isn’t right,” she says and scrambles away.
I wrap my arm around her waist to keep her from fleeing the couch. “You’re getting worked up over nothing.”
“It’s not supposed to be like this.”
“What do you want?” I ask against her ear, brushing my lips across her throat. “Do you need flowers? Should I go light candles?”
“No. I don’t want that romantic garbage.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I’m scared,” she says.
Talon isn’t playing. She trembles in my arms. Her face pinches while fighting a sob.
“I’m not those assholes,” I mutter, refusing to let her go.
“Yeah, but I’m still me. And I feel the same panic as I did that night. I can’t breathe right. It’s all coming back like it’s happening again.”
Talon twists around and whimpers, “I told Dire I was scared. I needed to say those words. She gripped my hand. That’s when the one guy hit her. I can still hear her bones breaking. I couldn’t protect her. I can’t even protect myself.”
I look around to find one of those Afghan blankets Sweetie Pie crocheted years ago for everyone. She’d been in a weird mood and wanted all the members to have matching blankets. I grab for the blue-and-red blanket now, wrapping it around Talon before settling back on the couch.
Talon’s eyes are terrified, even when her body is held on my lap like a baby.
“You’re still you,” I say, so she knows I hear her.
That’s something Papa Bear always did with me. I’d say something—maybe it was dumb or rude—but he’d always let me know he heard me.My words held meaning. I wasn’t invisible. I didn’t have to lash out to be acknowledged.I could just speak and he’d always hear me out.
So it doesn’t matter if Talon is being irrational. Or if she’s getting herself all worked up over nothing. I still need her to know I hear her.
Beyond the fear and flashbacks, I think Talon deep down wants all the romantic garbage. She wishes I’d bring her flowers. She sees herself as no nonsense like Papa Bear, but inside, she’s actually sentimental like Betty Boop.
I remember how her mom would get so excited over the little gifts Papa Bear bought for her. Some were cheap trinkets back before they had any real money. But she loved every gift and would put them in her special bookshelf with a glass front and a little lock to keep her children from getting inside. I’d often catch her admiring them.
I always assumed she viewed every gift as special because she grew up with nothing and those trinkets reminded her how someone cared about her now.
But it might just be a woman thing. Or maybe Talon grew up seeing those little gifts and attached romantic meaning to them. Even as a tough chick with a big mouth, she deep down wants her own bookshelf filled with reminders of her worth.
Finally relaxing in my arms, Talon rests her cheek against my shoulder and cries.
I don’t rush her. My dick can wait. What I like is how she doesn’t ask to leave. She cuddles up and lets me comfort her rather than running to her father or friends. I’m her safe space, even if I remind her of what she fears.
No other woman ever felt worth this kind of effort. Talon is special. Not only because I love her but because she loves me. Right now, she might be scared of me. I’m also probably doing things wrong. But she doesn’t leave because I’m who she wants.
And on my second night of freedom, that’ll need to be enough.
