Man of Honor (Battle Scars) (12 page)

“You’re sure? This is what you want?
I’m
what you want?” I throw the questions out there in hopes that she doesn’t back down. She’s a fighter, I can sense that in her and I’ve seen it firsthand. She’s been through more than enough shitstorms in her life to know when she’s making a mistake. I don’t want to be one of them. I want to be the opposite of a mistake for Mea.

Whatever that might be.

Her eyes, hooded with desire and locked in on my movements, lift to mine as she nods her head. “I want this. So much, Drake.”

She says my name on a sigh that makes me weak. Tossing her jeans over my shoulder, I let my big hands slide up her thighs. Wrapping them around her ass, I yank her forward on the bed. “Take your shirt off. I need to see you. All of you.”

She does as she’s told, and I watch while she yanks the gray fabric over her head. She lets it drop to the floor beside me, and I watch with fascination as her chest rises and falls with a big breath. Her breasts, small and perfectly round, nearly spill out of her lacy white bra. Reaching around behind her back, she unclasps it and her breasts bounce free.

I lick my lips, because they’ve gone dry. “Fucking perfect. You know that, right? You’re perfect.”

A shadow of uncertainty, similar to what I saw in her expression just downstairs, crosses her face.

She really doesn’t know that. Someone hurt her…before. I’m not an idiot, I figured that out. But it left her broken. She can’t see herself the way I do.

The thought sends a tidal wave of rage crashing through me. I can’t picture some asshole of a man putting his hands on her in order to hurt her. I don’t know the details, and I hope that the day will come soon when she trusts me enough to let me in on what went down. But until then, all I want to be to her is the reassurance she’s been missing.

“It’s true.” I don’t mean to growl, but my thoughts make it impossible not to. “I’ll show you.”

I gesture toward the windows, where light streams in. “Baby, has anyone ever made love to you during the day? With the light shining down on all the best, secret, most beautiful parts of you?”

I know the answer before she shakes her head in the negative, and I push on, shaking my head in awe. “Because I can’t tell you how happy I am that the sun is shining right now. Every inch of you is about to be revealed to me so that I can worship you the right way. The way you deserve. The way your body needs to be served.”

The muscles in her legs begin to tremble beneath my hands. Her head falls against one of her shoulders, and I gently push her back so that she’s lying down on the bed.

I dip my head, burying my nose between her thighs and inhaling a deep breath. Her scent washes over me, and I’m suddenly too hot to function. With a groan, I stand and reach behind my head, pulling my shirt off in one smooth movement. Then I unbutton my jeans. My dick is free the moment I unzip them, and I’m happy as fuck I decided to forgo underwear this morning after my shower. The jeans are gone, but I still want to crawl out of my own body and into hers.

Kneeling again, I place kisses on the insides of her thigh. Just before I reach the apex, I switch to the other leg, smoothing my hands up the sides of her and back down again. There aren’t enough places to touch all at once. There aren’t enough places to lick her, to kiss her, to taste her. I’m so limited, because I’m only a man, but I want to eat her up. In one swallow.

The tiny scrap of white cotton covering the center of my gravity at the moment need to come off. Almost like she’s reading my mind, Mea lifts her hips off the bed with a frustrated sigh. I can’t stop my grin as I take hold of the sides of her panties and tug them down her legs. Discarding them, I just take a second. To drink her in. Breathe her. Breathe her. Breathe her.

She plants her pretty little feet on my bare shoulders.

“Mea.”

She glances down at me. Her voice is breathy and so damn sexy when she answers. “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna eat up that pretty little pussy now. Not gonna stop, not until you know exactly how you should be worshipped. You ready for me, baby?”

I pull back for a second searching her face. Because I need her to know that I’m not just asking her if she’s ready to be intimate with me. I’m asking her so much more, and I need her to read it in my expression. To hear it in my voice. To feel it in my touch.

Her soft fingers land in my hair, tugging. Stroking. I close my eyes for a second, relishing the sensation. But they pop back open when she speaks.

“I’m ready for you, Drake.”

I stare her down for a second, checking for any sign that she doesn’t realize what she’s getting into with me. I know better than anyone that with the shit going on in my head and in my heart that there is no easy road. Not with me. But she nods, like she sees me for exactly who I am.

And maybe she does, because isn’t she the one who’s been picking up the soggy pieces of me all over the bar for the last few months?

Dropping my head, my tongue meets her slick wet heat. She cries out, and her fingers are no longer gentle in my hair. Her feet push hard against my shoulders. I take another taste, and everything that is Mea flows into my mouth, down my throat, into my soul.

She tastes like the finest wine there is.

Her pleasure, free flowing from her core and into my mouth, is the sweetest thing I’ve ever savored. I treat her like she’s fragile at first. Gentle swipes with my tongue through her folds and around her clit have her quivering in my hands. I can feel all of the tension inside of her coiled up in this one spot, and all I have to do is pull the cord for her to fall apart right in front of me.

When her moans are doing things to my body that I’m scared I won’t be able to control, I graze her with my top teeth just before I pull her into my mouth and suck. Hard.

A slew of curses like I’ve never heard from a woman erupt from this tiny, debilitating creature in front of me. Her hips lift from the bed as she comes, and just like I promised I would be, I’m right there to catch her. I can tell she’s still high, reveling in the stars above us, as I climb onto the bed beside her and pull her on top of me. Her body is liquid, her curves pressing against my ridges in the most alluring fucking way possible. I kiss her throat, her shoulders, pushing her hair off her face as she comes spiraling back down.

Opening sleepy, lust-filled eyes, she smiles at me. Steals my breath. Rocks my world before she touches me.

“Your turn.”

I cover up my shock with a grin. “I want my turn to be inside of you.”

With a sexy, satisfied smirk, she pushes up off my chest and positions herself right where I need her. Sucking in a gulp of air, I still her hips against me and reach for the bedside table. Remembering I’m not at home, I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I really hope I packed some condoms in my suitcase.”

Her slender shoulders give a flippant shrug. “Go and check.”

I head to my bag, searching the small pockets until I come up with that tiny foil packet. Holding it up to her in triumph, I stalk back toward the bed.

I’ve told her that I’m someone she can trust, and I’m more than glad I can back that up right now by keeping her safe.

“Please, Drake. I need…this. I need you.”

I climb back on the bed. Knowing I’ll never be able to say no to her.

I cup her face with both hands, stroking her high cheekbones with my thumbs. “Tell me something. And I need the truth, or we don’t do this.”

The wrinkle between her eyebrows shows her focus as she nods. “Okay.”

Taking a deep breath, I ask the one thing that’s been bothering me for almost three years. “What did I do the last time that sent you running? I never want to make that mistake again.”

She freezes; her wide eyes focus on me and every muscle in her body tenses up. I continue stroking her face with gentle circles, telling her with my eyes that she’s safe and that she can tell me anything. I can take it. I’m strong enough.

Her voice is a whisper so soft and so wretched that my heart clenches almost painfully in my chest. It’s like with one look she’s reaching inside me and squeezing with all her might, reducing the beating organ to useless dust. I want to take in some air, but I’m drowning in her deep, sad gaze.

“If I tell you, do you promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”

Is it possible for twelve words to gut you, slice you in half like a midday meal?

I
’m ruining this.
I’m so sure of it as I watch something in his eyes turn dark and tortured. He looks pained, like it’s hard for him to take a breath. My muscles, which have been frozen up until this point, allow me to move again and I make to remove myself from on top of him.

But his hands, so warm, so damn comforting, move to my hips to hold me to him. “I don’t want you to go anywhere, Mea. I want to know what you have to tell me.”

I search his face for any sign that he doesn’t really want to hear any in-depth descriptions of my own personal brand of crazy. But his face is nothing but determined, sincere, and fierce
. I wish I knew what he’s thinking. What is he fierce about? What did I say that obviously physically hurt him?

It should be awkward, having a conversation with a man while you’re sitting naked on top of him. Or maybe it shouldn’t be, but it always would have been for me in the past. There’s nothing but comfort and warmth right now, sitting with Drake. His hands, cupping my face with thumbs rubbing my cheeks so tenderly, make me feel safe and secure. The hard swell of his erection beneath me reminds me that he wants me still, in spite of the talking we’ve been doing for the past few minutes. The intimate and intense burn of his gaze on my face makes me feel important and
heard. Seen.

He
sees
me.
That thought has my mind whirling in a thousand different directions. I tilt my head to one side, leaning into the roughness of his palm as I wonder, marvel, at this fact. No one, aside from my brother, has ever really
seen
me.

Not the way Drake does.

This feels important. Momentous, even. I’ve been trying for years to deny that the night with him even happened. I never thought I’d be telling Drake what it was that made me shut down that night. The one thing that made me decide I never wanted to see him again.

Taking a deep breath, I blurt it out. “I have rules.”

He blinks, his perplexity plain on his face. “Rules?”

An intense heat flushes my face as I continue. “When it comes to sex, I mean. I’m always the one to call the shots. I’ve never had sex within the confines of a relationship before. So I would always pick the guy. Make sure he fit my criteria, you know? And then I would tell him up front about the rules.”

Drake’s brow furrows as he tries to understand. “But you never told me about any rules, Mea.”

Groaning, I throw my head back. Drake’s hands settle on my shoulders, smoothing down the wrinkles of my agitation. “I know! That’s the thing. With you, it’s always been different. That day at the garage that we met, I was completely out of my element. That level of pure attraction that I felt toward you…it was something completely new to me and I had no idea how to handle it.”

Drake sits up. I bounce on his lap a bit, but he steadies me with his hands as he draws me closer to his chest. And that chest distracts me for a minute as my eyes rove with hungry interest over the hard muscles and sprinkling of dark hair.

“Electric. That’s how I always thought of it. It’s how it’s always been between us.” Drake moves his head around, trying to find my attention once more.

I bob my head in the affirmative, grateful that he understands. “Yeah, I guess it has, hasn’t it?”

My hair is all over the place, and Drake smooths the wild locks back from my face.

“You didn’t tell me your rules that night. Tell me now.”

Biting the corner of my bottom lip while I consider, I nod. As I talk, my heart rate picks up its rhythm, pounding an unforgiveable cadence against my ribs. “Um, I just have a few. First, I choose a guy who hasn’t been drinking.”

Drake’s eyes narrow right before a deep sense of shame pours out of his shocked gaze. I say nothing, only watch him as he takes this statement in. Finally, he nods, swallowing hard. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and it sounds like he choked on it when he speaks. “Go on.”

I sigh. “Next, I always provide protection. And the guy has to wear it.”

His face is a mask of stone, I can’t read anything in it. But his hands still touch me, holding me, soothing me. So I continue.

“The last rule…is that the guy I sleep with can never, ever be on top.”

It’s like I dropped a hammer in the room. Drake pulls back from me like he’s been slapped. “I wasn’t drinking that day.”

I watch him with wary attention. “I know that. That’s why I slept with you.”

His voice rises slightly. “And we used a condom.”

“Yeah.” My stomach is clenching and unclenching, balling my muscles up and then expanding them again in a repetitive motion.

“But…I rolled you over that night. It was so damn good, Mea. You felt amazing. And I rolled you over just before we finished. Are you telling me…” His voice trails off, and he coughs, as if he’s trying to expel something.

I don’t say anything, only watch him. I imagine my expression is sad; I’m heartsick. Despairing. I’m already grieving the loss of him, because there’s no way he’ll want to be with me now.

And then he’s clutching me to his chest with a ferocity I don’t understand.

“I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know the rules.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull back so I can look him right in the eye. “I know that. It wasn’t fair to hold you responsible. Up until that moment, it was the best experience of my life. I was loving it. I was into it, right there with you. It’s the messed-up shit inside my own head that messed me up that day. Not you. It’s not your fault.”

His eyes are almost savage as he shakes his head. “You’re not messed up. I wish I had known, but whatever’s going on inside your head is because of a ghost. It’s not your fault either.”

I think about that. Because of something he hadn’t even realized he’d done, I pushed Drake away. And then I treated him horribly afterward because I couldn’t stand to look at him and remember that day. But it’s not because I was scared of him. It was because I was scared about the way he made me feel.

Out of control.

Drake reaches inside my head and plucks out my thoughts, as if I’d spoken them aloud. “You’re in control here, baby.” He leans back against the pillows, never dropping my gaze. He holds me captive with his eyes, and his hands are strong and sure as he hands me the condom. Positions me on top of his ready hardness.

He waits.

Glancing down, his dick jumps against my most sensitive spot and I’m a live wire again. With just a few words he’s said everything I’ll ever need to know. I slide the condom on his tip and roll it down over his impressive length.

I lift myself up, and then slowly sink down on top of him. We both groan at the sweetly illicit contact. I can see every muscle in Drake’s jaw twitching, and feel his strain as he holds himself back.

His hands gently cup my bottom as I lift up and fall back down again. “This is your ride, sweetheart. And it’s perfection.”

Letting my eyelids flutter shut as a flurry of pleasure drifts though my body, Drake’s gentle command has them flying open again. “Look at me, Mea.”

I do, and I begin to find a rocking rhythm. He hisses out between his teeth, but he doesn’t make a move to unseat me or flip me over. He just keeps holding my gaze. I watch with fascination as a bead of sweat, evidence of his effort, rolls down his chin and drops onto his chest. It disappears into the hairs there. I lean forward and lick him, following the same trail the bead of liquid just had.

“Fuuuuuck,” he grinds out. “Mea.”

I bob faster, feeling the rigid hardness inside me stretching me out, filling me up. I could be floating. I could be flying. I’m empowered, because I’m not forcing the control here. It’s not something that I’ve designed because of my rules and manipulations and independent decisions.

I have control because Drake freely handed it to me.

And I’m only just beginning to understand the difference.

Finding myself through Drake’s eyes, discovering who I am from the way he views me, I ride him until I’ve climbed so high there’s no other option but to fall. Drake’s gentle hands find my breasts, and he tweaks my nipples between his thumb and forefingers. His eyes are still locked on my face, and there’s a sense of wonder and longing in them I can’t quite understand. But when he speaks, I know I’m home.

“I got you, baby.”

At the peak of pleasure and the brink of something unknown, I crash down under the weight of waves of ecstasy. I lean forward, collapsing onto Drake’s chest. His hands smooth up my back as his body shudders beneath mine and my name slips from his lips.

When he’s still, except for the heaving of his chest, he moves me so that I’m lying beside him. Then he slides off the bed and into the adjoining bathroom. When he returns, he’s carrying a wet washcloth. With steady and gentle hands, he flips me onto my back and proceeds to clean me up. When he’s finished, he returns the towel to the bathroom and slips back into bed.

Pulling the comforter over us, he pulls me against his chest. His lips brush against my head.

We don’t speak, because at the moment nothing more needs to be said. He just told me more with his body than any man has ever said to me with words. He showed me how he feels and what he thinks with his caramel eyes as I broke apart above him, and that was more than enough.

Snuggling in close to his side, drawing in the warmth from his body, I sleep.

“A pub crawl?” The excitement in Berkeley’s voice is matched by the rosy flush in her cheeks, and I know my idea for my best friend’s last girls’ night out before she gets hitched is a good one.

“With ghosts,” adds Greta. “It’s Savannah; don’t forget the ghosts.”

Berkeley claps her hands together, glee apparent on her gorgeously perky features. “Oh, my God.”

Rolling my eyes, I guide her toward the limo waiting for us. It idles on the curb in front of the house with suited driver standing in wait. It meant taking money out of my savings, contributing with the other girls for this special night, but when it comes to Berkeley and Greta, every cent I spend is worth it. Their friendship is invaluable to me.

“And if you’re worried about your man, don’t be. He’s taking the crawl starting at the other end of the tour. We arranged this especially for you two with the tour company. So you’ll get to kiss at the bar in the middle, and then keep on truckin’.”

She squeals in delight as she ducks into the limo. Grinning wickedly at Greta, I accept the white-and-pink “Bachelorette” sash she hands me, along with the tiara. Berkeley’s been sort of a princess her whole life, but tonight we’ll be turning her into a whole different sort of royalty.

“Put these on!” I thrust the dress-up items in her lap as I climb in beside her. The driver closes the door behind Olive as she brings up the rear, and she takes it upon herself to pull a bottle of champagne out of the automobile’s mini-fridge.

“Well, girls…should we get this party started right?”

Handing us each a flute, she pours the bubbly liquid into our waiting glasses. “Thank you for letting me come on this trip with you. I’m having so much fun getting to know you all. Cheers to new friends, new beginnings, and a new chapter for Berkeley!”

Raising our glasses, we all yell, “Cheers!”

“So,” Berkeley begins, leaning back and making herself comfy in the leather seat. “Mea.”

Her whiskey-colored gaze lands on me and I know I’m in trouble. I’ve given Berkeley that look myself so many times before I can read it like my favorite book. She’s out for information, and if she doesn’t get it she’ll only settle for blood.

“Hmm?” My nervousness at whatever she’s about to ask is only amped up by the vibration of my phone in my clutch.

I realize only then that it’s the first time today that I’ve thought about Mikah’s call last night.

My stomach muscles harden into a wall of coiled steel, and I have trouble catching my breath. Spending the afternoon with Drake kept the fear and the dread at bay, but now it’s back full force. I’m left reeling from the ferocity of it and I wish so badly that Drake was here to be my escape again.

“Mea?” Berkeley’s face changes expression as soon as she notices my impending panic. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking my head, I gather myself along with a deep cleansing breath. I can’t allow this to ruin Berkeley’s night. Whatever Mikah has to tell me can wait until her special occasion is over.

“Nothing. Everything is fine. Are you ready to get your drink on?”

Her normally large eyes narrow. “I looked for you this afternoon. I didn’t want you to be bored or lonely, but you weren’t in your room when I checked. Where were you?”

Olive’s gaze shifts from Berkeley to me with interest, and Greta’s elbow lands in my ribs.

“You’re holding out on us? Were you with a certain hulk of a mechanic, oiling his engine?” She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but a giggle escapes anyway.

“Greta…please don’t ever, ever make an analogy again. Ever!” She blushes at my playful scolding but holds her ground. She and Berkeley are a united front on this one, and I can’t escape the limo.

I huff out an impatient breath. “We’re all adults here, right? What happens in Savannah stays in Savannah.”

“Mea! You know that if it were either one of us you’d need all the details. I demand to know what’s going on with you and Drake. Is it just sex? Or do you like him?”

Her question firmly plants a picture of what Drake did to me earlier in his bed at the front of my mind. Thoughts of my fingers twisting in his hair, tugging on the strands until his urgent groan met my ears. Thoughts of the way his glistening skin felt sliding against mine in the most intimate possible way. Thoughts of the feelings he evoked in my body when his hands and his tongue and his cock brought me to the brink of pleasure more than once.

I use a hand to fan myself, and Berkeley zeroes in on the motion, a blond poodle with a bone she can’t put down.

“I knew it! You are definitely screwing him!” Her triumphant voice fills the limo and the other girls’ heads snap to attention. “But…you have rules. You never sleep with the same guy twice. And you never spend time with the guy. Because we’re all friends, Drake is automatically different, right?”