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“Me?” she said, pointing to herself, forgetting the storm for the moment.

This boy had been her first friend, her first kiss, her first touch, and her first heartache. She liked to think the heartache was a true gift. The pain taught her how to wear an armor of indifference in public, to hide the torrid emotions ripping her insides up. It had helped her on more than one front in her life, a million times over.

“Every time you kiss me you don’t talk to me for months, if not longer!” she snapped. “Might as well kiss me now, that way by the time you come back ‘round I can at least say ‘welcome home’ without you growling at me, or looking at me like I ate your breakfast.”

It took a lot of effort for Declan not grin at the invitation and the boldness in her words, but he managed. At best a determined glint was in his gaze. “You ignored me.”

“I’m not doing this,” she said with a shake of her head just before she flinched at the sound of another rumble.

“What? Coming over here after you told me to kiss you?”

“I didn’t—whatever. Back then you acted like I was a regret and that sucked. But I’m not going to toss this at you before you leave. I don’t remember the end unless I need a reality check.”

Now he was intrigued.

Declan thought to tell her he had to be distant around the Rawlings’ boys because of Nolan’s take, but then thought better of it. To outsiders it sounded boorish.

He arched a brow. “The first one doesn’t count. We changed the game with it, you couldn’t be my buddy any more because I don’t kiss my buddies.”

“Like the second one didn’t change the game?” Then she grinned devilishly. “Oh that’s right, it wouldn’t have for you because I was just the closest girl to you that night. For me it changed.”

Declan tilted his head to the side. “You better watch it, you’re the closest girl to me tonight, too. Us man whores have to go with what we got.”

Justice’s glare sliced deep, making him regret every word...to some degree. She needed to know she was far too tempting to him and he was by no means innocent or looking for any tie he didn’t need.

“It meant something,” he said, after a long tense moment. “You should know that.” He paused. “Still...then and now neither one of us need something this real.”

Right then, she wasn’t sure if it was the thunder or her heart that was making her entire body feel like it was quaking. Only Declan Rawlings could offer a sentiment and rejection across three sentences.

“I guess that’s best since you’re leaving town.”

“Right,” he said as his gaze dipped over her once more.

Thunder crashed above, and she flinched.

“Come here,” his deep voice beckoned. When she hesitated a pained smile came to him. “I can’t handle you being scared. Don’t make me.”

She couldn’t help it. She moved closer.

D
eclan thought to just put his arm around her, pull her against him, but right as she moved toward him the thunder was so heavy that it felt as if it vibrated the earth itself and she ended up in his lap.

At first, he tensed, and so did she. The same current he had felt twice over when he had this girl all alone was there. The urge to fight what he didn’t understand was his first instinct. But then he relaxed against the wall he was leaning on and gently drew his arms around her as she settled against his chest so easily that it felt like she had done so a thousand times before.

“All right?” he asked a few minutes later after another warning went off.

“Yeah,” she breathed nervously.

They stayed quiet for a moment listening to the storm they could hear approaching. The next one was going to come a lot closer to the school, but it was still a ways off.

The thunder crashed and the wind became so fierce that they could hear it whistling through the vents like a distant train screeching to a halt. The lights flickered only to decide to stay on. All the while they held each other in comfortable silence.

Declan found himself marveling at the fact he had never needed many words with this girl. And how he thought it was cool as hell that she was settled enough in her own skin that she was never fake—she was as true as the blush he’d see slide down her body when any emotion, good or bad, claimed her.

His rose...

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice it had gotten a bit quiet so when the next clap came and then the power went out he squeezed her tighter than he meant to, and she cried out.

“Sorry,” he said across a deep laugh, right as the lights flicked on again.

Only she wasn’t smiling, tears were welling in her eyes and she was trying to hide them.

“Damn, I’m sorry,” he said again, seriously questioning how hard he had squeezed her.

“It’s not you,” she said, trying to smile but blushing instead. “I, uh. I fell the other day, got a bit bruised.”

His concerned stare turned murderous in a beat. “You
fell
,” he bit out, moving her out of his lap.

“Yeah,” she said, not meeting his eyes, just because she didn’t want him to pull the complete truth out of her. She did fall, but she fell because she was dodging a backhanded swing that came after her speaking up for her grandmother when her dad had had too much to drink.

He rarely hit her face for obvious reasons, but he was not shy about throwing her in any direction or into anything, enough to knock the wind out of her.

Last week she fell into his toolbox and somehow the sound of all his tools hitting the floor sobered him up a bit, or at the very least he decided Justice had learned her lesson.

“Show me,” Declan demanded.

Her flush, more from outright humility not shyness, deepened.

“No.”

“Show me,” he said again with even less finesse in his deep tone as he eyed her dress and tried to figure out the best way to see for himself without putting all kinds of temptation he didn’t need in his face.

“Why?” she growled.

“Because it’s bullshit and you know it.”

“What?”

“You fell?”

“I
did
fall.”

“After
what
?” he roared.

She jerked her stare away.

“You need out of that house, Justice.”

“It’s not as bad as you think, and it’s not your problem.”

He sharply lifted his hands to the side. “Exactly how bad do I think it is?”

“I don’t know, but from the look in your eye I would guess you think I’m tied up and whipped.”

Declan leered. “I heard the way he talked to you. And I heard Murdock act like it was
nothing
.”

“He’s an asshole, yes. I tend to attract them.”

He glared. “Are you calling me one?”

“You did.”

He cursed and punched the mat next to him before he hung his head between his raised knees and counted, just the way his dad always told him to do.

“Show me,” he finally said.

“Declan, you don’t need this shit on your plate.”

“Too late.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means whether you show me or not, I know. And for the next fourteen weeks of my life I’m going to think about it. It’s going to overshadow every fucking other worry I have about what’s going on at home.”

Justice’s eyes grew wide. Nolan had told her he and Declan were at odds because he didn’t sign up and was hitting the road instead. Nolan said he felt bad about it because knowing Declan it would be a distraction for him, and that was the last thing he needed.

The idea that he’d worry about her as much as his brother, his best friend, flattered
and
ticked her off. She had issues, yes. But she was not broken. Cracked maybe, but who wasn’t?

“You know what, asshole,” she said standing up. “Fine. My dad drinks, and he’s a dick. I look like my mom, which just makes him even madder when he’s had a few and I decide to speak my mind. Which isn’t often because it’s easier to dodge him.”

She jerked a strap down from her dress, then the other.

His mouth opened either in shock or to say something, but she didn’t care either way. She went on with her rant. “And I did fall. Into a tool chest,” she said, unzipping the side of her dress. Underneath she had a short tank because it was soft against her bruise, and girl briefs just because that was how she decided to roll that morning.

Being more covered up than she would be in her bathing suit still didn’t make this viewing any easier. Declan’s gaze was hard to handle on its own; when it had a target and emotion it was beyond unnerving.

She dropped the dress to the floor. “I pushed him. I knew to wait but I was mad and when he went to hit me I dodged it because I’m awesome like that.” She hitched her tank up to reveal her side, from her thigh to her ribs was black, blue, and brown. Only the black parts hurt now.

“You listen to me,” she said, which did not draw his stare from her body like she thought it would. “I will be damned if you go anywhere, even down the fucking hall, and worry about me. I deal and I deal my way for my reasons. You need something to fix? Something to protect? A reason to beat your chest and say ‘I am alpha hear me roar’—then you’re looking in the
wrong
direction.”

He didn’t say a word, his penetrating gaze locked on hers.

Just like when they were kids, even recently, with their simple eye-contact they could say a million words.

Declan was mad, more so at himself than anyone else. He’d been right there all this time...and he didn’t do anything. And she was telling him even if he’d tried, she wouldn’t let him.

“Come here,” his voice rasped.

At first her hesitation was involuntary. She couldn’t make herself move, there was too much emotion coursing through her. Both good and bad. How could two words make someone feel happy and terrified at once?

Slowly she approached where he was still seated next to the wall, stepping just between his raised knees. His gaze didn’t fall from hers until she was still once more, then it gradually trickled down her body. Her ivory skin flickered with awareness as she felt everywhere his gaze landed on her flesh.

His hands reached for the back of her calves and slowly slid up as his gaze landed on the first of her bruises, high on her ribs.

When his touch reached her knees, he gently pulled her forward.

Caught off guard, her hands landed on his shoulders and he steadily pulled her to her knees.

The back of his hand slightly feathered up, carefully gliding over the bruise. His gaze was fixated on her body. She was fighting for breath, each sway of his hand was electrifying.

Then all at once, his hands grasped her hips, causing her hold on his shoulders to slip around his neck as he gently urged her to lie across the mat pillowed with towels.

As soon as she relaxed into the mat and stared up at him she found his gaze on her side once more and before she could comprehend how quickly this night had shifted, his lips fell to her flesh, whispering away whatever pain or frustration had come from her current bruise.

She wanted to be humiliated, but she couldn’t find the will, not when his hand had reached down to her calf and slowly began to slide up.

His touch was deliberate, exploratory, not like it was years ago when they knew they were stealing every second, yet this pace was racing her heart even more so.

When his lips grazed her hips, the breath she shuddered was a bit too loud; at least, she thought it was. She was sure she was right when his lips left her flesh and she reluctantly looked down at him.

His hand didn’t still its subtle touches when his gaze met hers. “I can’t give you what you deserve.”

She felt her eyes well as she reached her hand to his face. She narrowed her gaze as she smiled. “I know. I always knew.”

Rapidly the gray shattered with blue raced across her visage, scrambling to understand anything about this girl—
anything
. She was the epitome of enigmatic.

The next thing Declan knew he was leaning forward and claiming her lips as he felt her fingertips gliding through his dark hair.

They both trembled with emotion just before their kiss gained rhythm, before they took a breath that mimicked sweet relief.

Declan became a starved man, needing to feel all of her, to become lost in the touch of her skin, the scent of her, how she was able to do what other girls could not—she made him feel. And she made him feel
everything
.

When her hands became just as reckless, clothes became suffocating barriers. She tugged at his shirt then her hands struggled to touch as much of his chest and back as she could. If his skilled touch didn’t mark his experience, how fast he shed her tank and bra from her certainly did.

The palm of his hand clasped a breast; his lips fell to her chin and then her neck as he rocked into her. Fast and slow, it was maddening how electrifying this felt. He wanted to savor it—he had to devour it.

Justice reached for his belt and right as she had unfastened the buckle and aimed for his button his hand landed on her hers, his kiss broke, and a heated breath skirted down her neck as his gaze rose to hers.

“You need to be sure,” he rasped. “Don’t if you can’t watch me leave.”

Either way she was watching him leave, there was no doubt about it. The only thing she was sure of was he was the only person who made her feel alive.

She leaned up to kiss him, and the second his lips touched hers, the power went out—something she doubted she would have noticed if he hadn’t pulled away.

When she heard him open his bag, she was sure the storm, which she heard building, had broken the moment. He’d found the will to do what she was too weak to do, shut this heartache down before it became any more tragic.

Seconds later she heard him move in the dark, his jeans rustled, and then his hands cupped the back of her knees, spreading them. At the same second she felt his kiss land at the base of her belly, his hands slid up grasping her panties and pulling them down with one swift motion.

Her body was like a live wire. The utter darkness of the room, the lack of one sense, was causing her to notice every touch all the more intensely.

She yelled out when his tongue lowered and flicked across the rosebud of nerves nestled in the blazing heat of her.