I noticed when I met him that he made my fear go away, and I wanted to submerge myself in it, bathe in it, and become addicted to it.
“Anyway, that’s it.” The truth and how bad it sounds makes my fingers itch for a razor. Anxiety pumps in my chest, and the need to relax, to forget, to feel a pinch of pain is nearly intolerable.
Eric turns my head and presses his lips against mine, claiming my mouth in a heated frenzy that melts my brain and tunes in to another channel. I’m no longer thinking of Brody and the need for a razor; I’m thinking of Eric, and once again, he’s making me feel like a new woman.
I don’t want to be the old me.
I want to be afraid of not living enough.
Eric gives me that urgency to live a better life, but I’ve never had a better life until the Ruthless Kings decided to give me one when they saved me.
His tongue tangles with mine, and I bite his bottom lip and suck it into my mouth. He growls and slides his hands under my arms and lifts me over the middle console.
“Keep your arms turned up and lay them on my shoulders. I don’t want to hurt you.” He moves my legs over his lap. His hands grab onto the thickness of my hips and then smacks my ass as he explores the lower half of my body.
I gulp, swallowing my nerves as his larger than life palms devour me, squeezing my globes harder than anyone ever has. Gasping, I watch as his eyes close and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips. His cock is hard between my legs, and a hot sheen of sweat breaks over my skin when I feel how wide he is. “Jo, your ass. Jesus Christ,” he mumbles. “You have no idea how much I want you.” He grips my hips and rolls them forward, rubbing the V between my legs over his cock.
The crown brushes over my swollen clit and I moan, remembering how good it feels to be wanted. He grunts and tilts his head to the right, smashing his lips against mine. I can’t get enough of his mouth. It’s hot, wet, silky, and he knows how to kiss.
Really kiss.
I almost can’t keep up.
His kiss is desperate, a frantic need that builds with every glide of his lips and touch of his hands. The truck starts to rock, and the windows start to fog. I feel like I’m seventeen again, looking to get away to the best hookup spot where no one can find us and we can do what we want.
I’m lost in him.
The needle in my compass is broken and can no longer tell me to run the other way to keep him safe from me.
Safe because he won’t have to worry about me. I’m not the strongest mentally. In the end, when I hurt myself, I’ll hurt him. I never want to do that. I want to be the woman he can lean on. I want to be strong enough for the both of us.
It’s either I run and break our hearts or stay and hope I don’t.
I’ve never followed directions anyway.
I throw myself into the kiss, and a gush of wet heat leaves my pussy, soaking my panties. We need to stop. He isn’t in the right mindset for this. I’m not either. I’m pregnant with another man’s baby for crying out loud. He doesn’t want me.
My lust starts to fade.
Eric is looking for an outlet.
With a broken whimper from his cock sliding over my clit one last time, I pull away. “Stop, Eric. Stop,” I say, slumping against the steering wheel. His shoulders rise and fall, his lips swollen and red from our kiss.
He doesn’t complain. He doesn’t push.
Something in the back of my mind tickles my senses, a memory. It’s foggy. I can’t tell what it is, but it’s there, but the veil is too thick to penetrate.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head, catching my breath as I try to calm down. “Eric, you’re upset right now, understandably, but I can’t be someone’s booty call.”
“What?” he asks, dumbfounded with a parted mouth.
“You’re kissing someone who cuts and is pregnant with another man’s baby. Does that not bother you? Your mom has cancer. Maybe you’re throwing yourself into this because you’re devastated. I understand, but I have too much to worry about to be someone’s late night call. I have a lot to figure out—”
He slams his mouth against mine again, shutting me up, and when I try to speak again, he doesn’t let me. He shoves his tongue in my mouth, and all of my efforts to stop this vanish.
Eric’s hands slap my ass and then squeeze the round globes. “You think I want to share you? You think you’re some quick lay?” he growls and pushes me forward on his cock again. “You think I’m casting my emotions on you? Let me tell you something—I’ve been denying you far longer than I’ve known about my mother’s health. I’m giving in because I want you.”
“Eric—”
“I want you without question, without hesitancy, without fault. You’re pregnant, and I’m here for you. I want to be here. You aren’t a burden, Jo. You aren’t a burden to me. You’re… Fuck, Jo, you’re what I’ve been needing. So kiss me if you want, be here with me if you want, love me if you want, because I’ll do whatever you want. The pace, it’s all on you. You’re in control. I’ve waited on you since you got here, Jo-love. I can wait until you realize I’m in this for the long haul. You’re ol’ lady material, and I plan to give you my property patch. Only if you want and only when you’re ready.” His words are warm, giving me hope and reassurance, and he ends his speech with a long, passionate kiss.
“Ol’ lady?” I ask, trying to not get excited. I’ve seen Sarah and the other women wearing their property patches, and I never thought it would happen for me.
“Yeah, I don’t think you hear it enough, but you’re worth it, babe. You hear me? You’re worth it.” He grabs my arm and kisses from the crease of my elbow, down my bandages, and over the wounds that almost killed me. “I’ll show you your life is more than worth it because it is to me.”
“I’m scared.”
“Of what?” he asks, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear, and even the quick brush of his skin against mine gives me chills.
“Of you loving me and breaking me,” I admit.
“Ah, Jo, the only thing I want to do is be your glue, your sutures.” He lays a palm over my racing heart and hums happily when he feels the beat. “I want to be the person who keeps your pieces together.”
I sniffle as I hold back happy tears. “You’re my stitches?”
“Just as you’re mine.” He lays his head on my chest and sighs, his hands laying on each ass cheek still, as if he’s afraid to let go. “You’re relief that I haven’t felt in a long time, Jo. Letting you go isn’t an option.” He pulls back to look at me. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to let you go? It’s your pace, Jo. I mean it. I’ll do what you want.”
“I want you, but I want you to remember to be patient with me because I won’t be perfect. I’m not okay, Eric. I’m far from it.”
“I know that. Perfect is overrated anyway. Life is hard, fucked up, and dirty. If you don’t come out of it with a little blood on your hands, then life hasn’t challenged you yet. Jo, I’m here for it all. Every damn horrible nightmare and daydream.”
“Why me?” I ask him, needing to know what he sees in me. He could have easily had one of the other girls. Eric is the kind of guy who can have any girl he wants at any time. I’m some girl rescued from a filthy basement.