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“You have to want to find the way out. She didn’t. Clarissa wanted instant gratification. It was all about her. She was the golden girl. She was beautiful and smart. Then slowly, she become a person no one recognized. It was so ugly near the end, before she left, that I couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as her. What does that say about me?” I sniffle.
“It says that you loved her a great deal. No one has those kinds of deep emotions unless they love the person. You couldn’t watch her continue to hurt herself, and you did the best you could in a very difficult situation. Self-preservation is what you needed to do to keep yourself sane.” Sofia squeezes my hand. “You did the right thing for you. No guilt. No shame.”
“She died alone. Like trash in an alley,” I whimper, the memory causing an ache in my belly. I wipe away tears.
“Perhaps. But her life had meaning,” she says. I raise my eyes, furrowing my brow, urging her to continue. “She brought Thunder into your lives. Maybe that was her purpose. When Demon came into my life, we played it off like it was a fling. It wasn’t until some nasty people put me in the hospital that he realized we’d almost lost each other. I’d take that beating all over again, as long as we ended up together.”
“Don’t fucking say that again, Fi. I never want to see you hooked up to tubes again,” Demon grumbles. The men make their way over to join us. Demon takes a seat next to his wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Automatically, Sofia leans into him. They’re perfect together.
Thunder sits in the armchair next to me, his gaze fixed on me. He heard me talking about Clarissa. I’m pretty sure Demon noticed how quiet Thunder has become as well, because he stands to excuse Sofia and himself and says goodbye to us all. Thunder and I walk them to the door. I give Demon and Sofia both one last hug as they leave. Roscoe files out after them, reminding us he’s on duty until Hammer comes in for his shift.
This leaves Thunder and me alone, with the promise of a kiss, but he doesn’t make a move. I busy myself bringing the dirty dishes into the kitchen and loading the dishwasher. I can sense that he’s watching me. The silence is so thick that it unnerves me. I whip around and ask, “What’s wrong?” I clutch the dishcloth in my hand, wringing it tightly.
He looks worried. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Then he finally says, “I don’t want to frighten you off. I’ve wanted this for so long. You’ve wanted this for so long. It should be perfect, and all this outside crap is feeding into what should be the perfect moment.”
Oh God! He hasn’t changed his mind! I drop the cloth on the counter and race toward him. He’s caught by surprise as I leap into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. He quickly grasps me as I lower my forehead to his. “I’m not scared. I’m grateful you feel the same. Please kiss me.” I barely get the words out before his mouth is on mine. This isn’t just a kiss. It’s a dedication to what we mean to each other. His mouth is needy and demanding. I want to give him everything, anything. His firm lips mold to mine, licking, teasing, nipping. A surge of electricity pulses between us, and soon, a kiss isn’t enough. We both want more.
“I need you, Michael. Please,” I beg breathlessly. He pulls my head back down to his lips and carries me off to my bedroom.
EIGHT
All My Nights
THUNDER
There’s a sizzle when our lips meet. Her arms lock around my neck like a vise, her legs around my waist, and her heels dig into my back. A kiss isn’t enough. We’re both greedy for more. When Rosie runs her fingers through my hair, tugging at my scalp, my desire ratchets up until I can’t deny my need to be inside her.
“I need you,”she murmurs, her husky tone only makes me harder, and my cock is already straining against the zipper of my jeans. I carry her through to the bedroom, where I drop her onto the bed, then climb in, my knees on the mattress. I reach out for her and tear at her clothes, just as she does with mine as our mouths connect.
Before we know it, we’re naked and breathing hard. I need to slow this down, or it’ll be over far too fast.
“We’ve got all night, Rosie,” I whisper into the crook of her neck. “I want to take my time.”
She stares at me wordlessly with those chocolate-brown eyes. I lay her down on the soft mattress, allowing myself to enjoy the view of her long dark hair splayed over the white sheets. Her creamy white breasts are heaving. I run my hands over her flushed skin, over the pebbles of her nipples, which tighten under my touch. I follow the curve of her waist and hips and down her outer thighs, watching her shiver with excitement.
I take a nipple into my mouth, then suckle lightly while I play with its twin. She holds my head to her chest, arching her back. I move her hands from my hair, placing them on either side of her head, and lift my head.
“Keep your hands right here.” I watch as she grips the sheets, licking her lips. My mouth traces a path around her nipples, then lower over her belly to the top of her mons. “Ready for more?” I ask, our eyes locking.
She nods, and moans, “Yes.”
I nudge her legs apart, then wider still. Her pussy glistens with moisture. All I can think of is wanting to taste her. I kiss the inside of one knee, then the other, and make my way upward toward her core.
“Michael, you don’t have to,” she murmurs.
“Oh, I have to,” I tell her, then slip my tongue over her clit, eliciting a primal groan, her lower half jerking up. I place my hand on her belly to hold her still, my shoulders keeping her legs open as I indulge in the delicious taste of her wetness. I let my tongue slide over her pussy, my fingers spreading her lips open, and I eat like a man who’s ready to devour his favorite meal. I circle her clit with my tongue and insert two fingers inside her. With every lick and push of my fingers, her moans grow louder and more labored. I keep pumping my fingers inside her. She arcs and moans, her breasts jutting out. Her legs tense as she comes for me. Her eyes are hazy and her voice is raw as she cries out my name over and over.
I come up on my haunches, grabbing for my wallet and pulling out a condom, thankful that I remember when all I want to do is get inside my woman. I align my cock at her entrance, taking a deep breath to force myself to go slow. I’m a big man, and as much as I want to thrust inside to assuage the ache between my legs, I go nice and slow. I swear, the look on her face as she takes my cock is an aphrodisiac like no other. The way her breath hitches with every inch I slide into her brings me closer to my own end.
“Oh God, yes,” she says, lifting her hips for me. Watching my cock disappear in her pretty pussy makes me want to pound my chest like a caveman. When I’m fully in her, I wait patiently for her to catch her breath. It’s not until she wriggles beneath me that I know Rosie’s ready for more. I edge out halfway and thrust hard and fast.
She meets me thrust for thrust, her hips gyrating, her hands clutching my shoulders, begging so sweetly for me to let her come again. I give her what she needs, what we both need. Within seconds, she comes apart in my arms as another orgasm rocks through her core, and I roar my own release.
Rosie murmurs something incoherent as I gently move out of her and lie down beside her, gathering her in my arms. I pull the covers up over us, cocooning her in next to me. With her head on my chest, she looks up.
Her lips are swollen from our passionate lovemaking, her eyes look at me adoringly, and her warm pliant body is molded to mine. A woman content and satisfied. Christ! I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I’ve dreamed of Rosie just like this. Convinced myself it would never happen because the past was too ugly. Yet, here she is, sleepily closing her eyes, with an arm slung around my middle as she burrows closer.
“Rosie, are you awake?”
