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“Never,” he says instantly. “I’d kill myself before ever doing that.”
“I know that. But I wanted you to hear yourself say it out loud. You are not your father, Brody.” I lean forward, pressing my lips to his. “I. Love. You. And if you’ll have me, I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay forever.”
“Darkness and all?” he mutters.
“Darkness and all.” I nod.
“I fucking hate him, Bria.” Every single part of his face is etched with pain. “I wish he’d die.”
“I know.” I run my hand through his hair as he shudders. “Shh…you’re okay now.”
Leaning down, I kiss him again. This time, he kisses me back even harder before suddenly lifting me up and walking us to my room.
Closing the door behind us, he sets me on the bed, but I scoot onto my knees.
Taking the hem of his shirt, I gaze into his eyes, tears clouding my vision. “Let me see how hurt you are.”
He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before nodding slowly. And as I carefully lift his shirt upward, I have to bite my lip to stop myself from gasping at the sight of his abdomen.
Tossing his shirt on the floor, I run my hand over the forming bruises that cover his stomach and go all the way to his rib cage. I suck in a breath as my heart breaks inside my chest.
“Brody,” I whisper, “I’m so sorry.”
His throat bobs as he swallows, trying to fight back his emotion. But as I lean down, pressing a kiss to the biggest bruise on the left side of his ribs, he trembles.
I kiss every single bruise, knowing that his whole life, he’s never had anyone to make him feel better when he had an injury. In his case, the person who was supposed to kiss his boo-boos was the monster giving him them.
Slowly, I unbutton his jeans, pulling them, along with his briefs, down over his hips and dropping them onto the floor. His legs have a few bruises on them, and I brush my lips along those, too, before I stand up, gently pushing him to a sitting position on the side of the bed.
Peeling my own shirt off, I tug my sweatpants off and climb onto his lap. Running my lips along his neck, I kiss his jawline before moving to his lips. This feels so much different from the other times we’ve been together. Because for once, we aren’t just fucking. We’re making love.
Pulling back, I cup his face. “I love you.”
He looks scared, and he blinks a few times. “I’m scared to say it. Like if I say it, I’ll curse it.”
“I’m not your mom. Or your dad, Brody,” I promise him. “And I’m not goinganywhere.”
A flood of emotion covers his face as his hands move to my ass. “I love you so much that it fucking scares the hell out of me.” He sucks in a breath. “I’ve loved you since you took me to Disney World. When we watched those fireworks and you cried.” His forehead dips to mine. “My entire life, I’ve had nothing. Which means I have nothing for the world to take.” He kisses me. “I can’t lose you, Bria. You’re the closest thing I have to a family.”
“You won’t,” I whisper. “I promise.”
Lifting me up slowly, he gently sets me down onto his length. The fullness is almost too much, and I wince in pain that quickly turns to need.
He kisses my jawbone and my neck before moving to my breast, and I moan, throwing my head back.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he utters, taking my nipple into his mouth. “I’ve missed you so much. I felt like I was missing a limb or an organ while we were apart.”
I lean forward again, resting one hand on his shoulder as I start to move up and down on him. The bed creaks, but I don’t care. I don’t care if we wake up Tate or the next-door neighbor.
Especially the next-door neighbor.
“Brody,” I whimper, careful not to push on his bruises. “Oh…God.”
He grips my cheek, forcing our lips together, and kisses me hard before sliding both hands back to my ass and pushing me back and forth on him with more force. Tears stream down my face as I think about how much pain this man—who I love so much—carries with him. Wishing so much that I could take it away from him, even just a little.
“You’re like being home,” he rasps. “And I never want to leave.” His voice sounds so desperate and so…raw. So unlike any of the other times we’ve been intimate.
But even though there isn’t dirty talk or hot fudge dripping down my body, this time feels much more intense. Because it’s not just about getting off. It’s about being close to each other. Not just close, but becoming one.
