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I lead her to the couch, and she settles. I sit close enough to offer support but give her space to process. I want her to just relax, but her gaze is fierce, and her eyes glimmer with a storm of emotions. Gratitude, determination, but also strength. She refuses to let the moment pass without saying what she needs to say. Biting her lip and inhaling sharply, she tells her story.
Even though I try to reassure her again that it’s okay, that she doesn’t owe me an explanation, but she insists. She needs to get it out. She’s not hiding, and she’s not ashamed. Instead, she squares her shoulders, takes a deep breath, and speaks.
“I didn’t really have a lot of friends in high school,” Arabella starts in a steady voice. “I didn’t fit in, and nobody likes a different kid.”
Dammit, I want her to stop. I don’t want her reliving a minute of something painful. I can imagine how tough it must have been for her to feel isolated and rejected as a teenager. I was a kid already halfway out on the streets. Not giving a damn about high school drama. I was too busy investigating things I should have avoided. I picture Arabella as the opposite. She would have been the good girl. Would I have been interested in her? Hell, yeah. Would she have seen past my crazy bullshit and rolled with me? I stop with thewhat-ifsand focus on her words.
“When I met Mac after graduation, he was into me.” I bet he was, I fume. Arabella continues, unaware of my murderous train of thought. “I was so young that the attention flattered me. Until it turned darker—more controlling. Possessive.”
The pain in her eyes guts me as she relives a toxic relationship that probably haunted her for years. I clench my fists, my jaw tightening with anger as I listen.
“You’ve already shared a lot of this with me,” I say, offering her an exit ramp. “You don’t have to go on if you don’t want to.”
Arabella shakes her head, determination flickering in her eyes. “No, I need to tell you,” she insists. “He wasn’t physically abusive. I broke it off with him before… But he never took the hint.” My blood boils, but I hold my anger inside. It’s not what she needs right now.
“For two years, he never gave up,” Arabella continues. Rolling her eyes at something that had to have been far more dramatic and dangerous than she’s letting on. “Then they arrested him for selling drugs. He had a six-year sentence, and now I guess he’s out, even though it’s only been four years.”
“You’re so brave, Arabella. I wish I had been there for you. I know you wouldn’t have wanted me to fight for you, but I would have. I would have done everything in my power to protect you.”
Arabella looks at me, her clear eyes shining. “Thank you, Thunder. Then I might have actually needed you, but this experience taught me I can stand on my own,” she says, her voice steady. “I won’t let him, or anybody else, intimidate me anymore.”
Arabella’s eyes meet mine. She’s not just talking about standing up to Mac; she’s talking about standing up for herself, for her own happiness. And I realize how much I want to be a part of that journey.
“I let him intimidate me before,” she says, her words echoing in the air between us. “Even when he was gone. I was scared to try with anyone else. Not just scared of his physical retribution, but scared to try again, period. I haven’t been with another man since he left.”
Her vulnerability and honesty cut through me. She’s been through so much, and yet she’s here, with me, ready to take a chance on something new.
“But I’m not afraid anymore,” her voice lowers, but her eyes hold mine. “I’m ready to start with someone new. I’m ready to start with you. Ready to be with you.”
Her words knock me off my feet, and I’m at a loss for words. Arabella, the woman who has faced so many challenges and hardships, is offering me her heart. The weight of her offer humbles me. I can’t express what it means to me. I don’t have the words.
Instead, I reach out and gently cup her face with my hand, feeling the softness of her skin under my fingertips. Her eyes meet mine, and I see a mix of hope and uncertainty in them. I want to assure her, to let her know that I’m all in.
“You don’t have to be scared anymore, Arabella,” I breathe, my voice filled with conviction. “With every ounce of my being, I swear you will be safe and cherished.”
Arabella closes the gap between us. The warmth of her body presses against mine. Her presence is electrifying, and I’m acutely aware of every sensation, from the softness of her thighs to the gentle touch of her hand on my chest.
Without another word, I lean down and kiss her, pouring all my emotions into the kiss. It’s a kiss that speaks volumes, conveying everything I feel for her: the admiration, the longing, the promise of a new beginning.
Our kiss ignites like a live wire falling on dry brush. But despite everything my body is telling me, I force myself to tell her it’s okay. I’ve been patient. I can be patient longer. I can wait.
She leans forward. And I can’t see her face. Which I’ve learned is a no-no. “I can’t,” she whispers. Then she pulls my head back down, pulling the walls down of my restraint at the same time.
Our tongues tentatively explore each other, exploring the depths of our feelings for one another. Her heart beats in time with mine, two drums signaling a battle march. All my worries drift away as we stay locked in this embrace.
The heat between us intensifies, and before long, Arabella is pressing her body against mine eagerly. My hands roam over her curves, and I’m overwhelmed by the beauty beneath my fingertips. She gasps as I caress her delicate skin, and I pause, savoring the sound of pure pleasure keening from her lips.
Arabella wraps her arms around me, and I surrender to the sensation of being desired by this magnificent woman. She presses her lips against mine again and moves to kiss my neck, sending sparks down my spine as she rains soft kisses over my sensitive skin. Her hands move over my body as if I’m the delicate one. Each touch arouses sensations and a waterfall of new emotions.
I reach under her shirt and caress her supple skin. Our breathing quickens as we explore each other with hungry pleasure until finally, Arabella pulls back slightly and whispers in a voice more beautiful than the singing of angels. “Make love to me.”
Shit. Did she think she had to ask?
Wonder fills me, and I kiss her deeply before leading her to the bedroom. If she only knew how much control it takes for me to guide her to a bed. When all I want to do is rip the clothes from her body and pound into her. Maybe another day. Instead, I gently lay her down on the bed, running my fingers over her smooth skin and soaking in the beauty of her body.
I lean down to kiss her again, our lips meeting in a passionate embrace that sets my heart racing. Our explorations grow urgent. Her body lights up underneath my fingertips as I brand her curves and dips.
My hand drags down her body, reaching for the heat emanating from between her legs. Arabella arches and moans loudly—very loudly—police siren loud.
