12 Rounds (24 page)

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Authors: Lauren Hammond

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BOOK: 12 Rounds
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He inserts two fingers beneath my chin and tilts my head up. I roll my eyes to the right, refusing to look at him. I feel hurt. Rejected. Here I am throwing it all out there, and he’s pushing it away. I don’t understand him. “Look at me Hadlee.” I ignore him and he let’s out a frustrated sigh. “Just look at me, please.” I peek over at him then turn my head in a slow manner. “You’re not now, nor will you ever be, like one of women to me, and don’t ever compare yourself to that. Those women are nothing. They’re nameless faces in a crowd. Strangers in a department store. You Hadlee, are so much more than that.”

Red flushes my cheeks and I start playing with my fingers. “Is it… Is it…” I struggle to get the words out. “Is it because I’m a virgin?”

He laughs and I frown and slap his shoulder and try to pull away from him before he hugs me tighter. “Never,” he whispers into my ear. “Actually, I think that’s incredibly sexy.” Heat circulates across my skin and travels down my thigh. He shouldn’t talk like that to me. It makes me want him more. “Do you think I don’t want this? Do you think I haven’t thought  about flipping you over on the hood of this car and fucking you like crazy? Because that’s all I’ve been able to think about lately.” His gaze darkens and my breath catches in my throat. “But…”
Why does there always have to be a but?
“This is something special to me. You are something special to me. You don’t deserve to be fucked on the hood of a car like some whore. You deserve for your first time to be everything you’ve dreamed it would be. Something special. Something beautiful. You deserve to be made love to. The right way.”

“After we make love, then will you fuck me on the hood of this car?” I ask, joking.

He shakes his head then groans, “Oh you have no idea what I’m capable of.” I think I might have heard him growl. I lean down and rest my head in his lap. “I’ve been trying to fight off the urge to give you a birthday kiss for the last thirty minutes.”

“A birthday kiss?” I peer up at him, brow furrowed, face scrunched together in confusion. “But you already gave me a birthday kiss.”

Another deep, raspy chuckle. “No. No. You beautiful, sweet girl.” He traces the outline of my lips with his forefinger. “Not there.” Then his hand slides down my chest, my stomach, and his skin brushes against mine as his fingers dip below the waistband of my jeans. I fight off the urge to grind against him when pats the area just above my sex and says, “There.”

 

Chapter Thirty

~Sean~

Hadlee has fallen asleep in my arms.

The sound of her soft breathing swells in my ears, carrying a melodic tune. Her skin feels soft beneath my touch. Her body warms mine through and through. I let out an inaudible laugh and stare up into the starry sky.

Yeah…

I am a fucking sap.

The truth is, I never thought I could feel like this. I never thought I was capable of caring for another human being as much as I care for Hadlee already. Maybe that’s why everything feels like it’s moving so fast. Maybe it’s because I’ve been so closed off for so long that I’m diving in head first and I don’t even care if the pool is shallow and I break my neck.

I’ve convinced myself that it will be worth it.

That even if what we have ends badly that it will be worth all the pain, strife, and heartbreak .

I need to stop thinking like that.

I need to stop thinking that we’ll be doomed from the start.

But there’s still so much I need to tell her. About my past. About Connie and the shit I’m mixed up in with the brotherhood. About the drugs. My arrest record. The fact that I’ve shot at people and been shot at.

What if she runs away screaming?

What if I lose her?

Us?

We’re still so new and I’m already questioning this relationship.

But that’s probably because for the first time ever, I want it so damn bad.

I never thought much about having a future. Let alone a future with someone else for that matter. In fact a part of me thought I’d be dead a long time ago. That’s what it’s like when you work the streets. They’re deceitful. Manipulative. One day they can make you feel incredible. Like you just smoked the biggest joint that you’ve ever rolled and you’re so happy and so high you feel like you’re flying. The next day they can twist on you, stab you in the back, and leave you for dead, or if you’re lucky picking through trashcans for your next meal.

There were many situations where I thought
this is it
. I’m a fucking goner. I’ve been robbed. Held at gun point. Shanked. Had the shit beat out of me. Going through all that, plus losing both of your parents at a young age takes a toll on a person. There were times where I felt like a lifeless vessel going through all the actions a normal person would but feeling nothing when it came down to it. And even then I was never afraid of any of that. Part of me knew if  that’s what I had to do to survive for both me and my sister, then I’d keep doing it.

But I’m afraid now.

And of a sweet, innocent woman, which is the funniest part about all of this.

Maybe I’ll give Tee another ring. I tried right after my fight, but it went straight to her voicemail.

Maybe her and Emerson…

Stop! Erase that from your mind! God damn it!

Hadlee stirs beneath me and I shift in my spot, trying to make her more comfortable. But her eyelids flutter and she looks up at me with those big beautiful blue eyes of her. She stretches. Yawns. I get this flash at that moment. This vision of what it might be like to wake up in bed next to her. “Hi beautiful,” I say as I lean down and kiss the top of her forehead.

She stifles a look around the field and wipes her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Two in the morning.”

She snuggles back into my lap with a sigh. “My birthday is officially over,” she pouts.

“Well technically it was over two hours ago,” I remind her. “But we can celebrate it every day if that’s what you want.”

She lets out a soft laugh that swells my heart and I run my fingers through her newly colored blonde hair. “Are you taking me home?”

“Do you want to go home?”

“Maybe in a little while.” She tilts her head back and gazes up into the sky. “The stars are really beautiful tonight. They look like tiny balls of fire.”

I look up at the burning dots surrounded by blackness. “They kind of do.”

More always seemed like such a disgusting word to me. I never hoped for it. I never dreamed about wanting it. Mainly because I thought I’d never have it.

And now that I do have it, I wish like hell I knew what to do with it.

 

Chapter Thirty One

~Hadlee~

I'm dreaming.

I know I am.

It feels strange because I haven’t had a good dream in so so long.

Sean is sitting next to me. His hands cup my face, an intense look in his deep blue-green eyes, and then he presses his lips against mine. The kiss is soft, sensual, yet completely and utterly mind-numbing. His tongue dances around inside my mouth and teases mine with a gentle caress. Then he's on top of me and I'm running my fingers through his chestnut locks. He kisses my neck and I can feel the twinge of desire flutter through me. As he works his way down my neck to my collar bone I trace the tattoos on his biceps with the tip of my finger.

His mouth is on mine and I open mine, reciprocating, welcoming his tongue, and digging my nails into his sculpted six-pack. Pulling out of the kiss briefly, Sean gazes down at me, eyes full of raw lust. “What do you want, Hadley?” he murmurs against my lips.

“Make love to me,” I tell him, half-moan, half-whisper.

Sean pushes himself up, hovering over-top of me. There's a devilish smirk on his perfect pouty lips, and a wicked gleam in his eyes. He keeps his eyes on me, devouring every inch of my bare body  with his eyes, then wags his finger in my face.

Disappointed, I frown. “Make love to me,” I say again, this time with more force.

Sean shakes his head and falls on top of me, crushing me with his body. I let out a grunt, stunned by the weight of him on me, but I can't fight the desire surging through my body by having him this close. Still it’s not close enough. I want him so close I can taste the bitterness in his sweat. I want him to melt into me. He teases me with a peck on the lips, and I moan out in frustration because I want so much more out of this moment, even if I am dreaming it.

Then he whispers, “You're safe in my arms. Everything is going to be okay.”

His voice plummets to the dark corners of my mind and echoes.
You're safe in my arms. Everything is going to be okay.
It replays over, and over, and over again. I'll never get sick of hearing him say that. I love the way the words roll of his tongue. I love the way the sound of his voice soothes me. The way it stuns the very core of me.

I reach out for him, wanting to grip onto him tighter, but I can't feel him anymore. “Sean?” I whimper as an incessant ache pumps through my chest cavity. “Sean, where are you?” I want his touch. His lips. His words.

Oh God.

His words.

They're strangling overwhelming yet so so soothing.

His touch...

His touch.

It sets my limbs on fire, leaves me trembling, makes me feel safe.

As the weeks passed Satine has continously lowered my dosage of Ambien. Now I don’t take it at all.

I like the way I feel now that I’m not on it.

My mind is not a darkened closet anymore.

It’s not closed off.

My mind is wide, open, and bright.

A field full of swaying grass, glittering sunshine, and cloudless skies.

And when I’m dreaming, I no longer dream of thick, calloused hands, grizzly voices, and threatening glances. I no longer feel the firm grip of a man’s hands crushing my  windpipe, and feel the need to gasp out, wheezing for air.

When I dream now, I dream of Sean, and there’s no terror latching on to my spine when I dream about him. Mostly there’s a fuzzy, warm, tingly feeling that forms low in my belly.

My eyes open to the darkness of Sean’s bedroom and I snuggle into the hard curve of muscle that is his body as he shifts behind me. He positions his chin into the nook of my neck and breathes into my hair, his voice groggy, half-full of sleep. “Are you awake?”

“Sort of,” I whisper into the darkness. I
was
having an excellent dream a second ago.

His hand comes up from behind me, gliding over my hip, pressing flat against my stomach as he tightens his protective grip on me. He kisses my temple and murmurs, “Go back to sleep, babe.”

I close my eyes, waiting to welcome the pull of exhaustion I’ve been fighting since I woke up from the world of dreams, but sleep doesn’t come.

My mind is too alive right now.

I’m thinking too much.

Rattling off thoughts inside my brain.

I’ve come to know the man lying in bed next to me like the counterpart  to my soul since we’ve been together. A month and a half has passed since my birthday and we’ve spent as much time as we can together. Which most of the time is every day. And every night. This thrills me, but at the same time, sometimes I feel like I’m getting too attached way too fast.

Then my questions gnaw at me.

What if I’m more attached to him than he is to me?

What if he gets sick of me?

What if he decides he can’t do the relationship thing after all?

What if it’s too difficult for him to stay faithful?

He told me once when we first started dating and I had my doubts that he was an all or nothing type of guy. He wanted all of me. And he promised he’d give me all of him in return. He said he’d never waiver. But I’m not so sure now.

There are things he’s keeping from me. I know this with certainty. I’ve never questioned him on what I’ve suspected, but now fear and unease live with me daily. There are times where he leaves abruptly and tells me it’s an emergency, but won’t specify on what the emergency is. He’s always hanging out with his friend Murph,  and when I call him and they’re together, sometimes he tells me he can’t talk. There are other times where he slips out of bed in the middle of the night, and I pretend like I’m sleeping, when I’m really not, and I see him leave.

Then I start to wonder.

Where he’s going?

What he’s doing?

Who he’s with
?

What urgent matter could pull him out of bed at such a late hour? 

I can’t tell you how many times I want to ask him these questions. And I can’t tell you how many times fear shocks my heart at the thought of him tiring of me, and going back to his sexually deviant ways.

After all, we haven’t even gone that far yet. Believe me, I’ve been more than willing and ready to give that part of myself to him. But Sean insists every time we’re  together intimately that it’s not the right moment. Part of me thinks that maybe he’s planning something special. That it’s important for him not to push me or rush things. More than anything I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to resist before the urge to jump his bones overwhelms me.

I know I should give him the benefit of the doubt. I know I should trust him. Maybe give him a chance to explain himself, but this deep kind of relationship is unchartered territory for me. I can’t help it if I’m a little suspicious. Or jealous. Or want him to stop brooding and openly communicate with me.

Seconds pass.

Then minutes.

My eyes are still wide open and I’m staring out into a river of black. Then I hear it. The soft vibration of Sean’s cell phone against the wicker nightstand. First a groan exits Sean’s lips. Then the mattress dips down. I shut my eyes tight pretending to sleep. The soft clicking sound of Sean fiddling with his cell phone fills my ears. There’s another shift in the mattress and I can feel Sean’s body heat as he hovers over me. I can feel his warm breath waft against my ear. His lips touch my hair and I can even feel the warmth from them as it bleeds through my thick strands.

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