Rebelonging (Unbelonging, Book 2) (32 page)

I froze. It would explain so much, the
cigarette burns, him getting tossed out of a vehicle that barely
slowed down, his warnings for me to stay quiet.

"Oh my God," I said. "Is
that
what
happened? You killed someone?"

He laughed. "No. But you should see the look
on your face. It makes me glad I didn't."

"Oh stop it," I said. "So what
did
happen?"

"You're right about one thing. It
was
a fight, except I was supposed to lose."

"Why?"

"Remember that businessman I told you
about?"

"The one who loaned money to your
Grandma?"

"Yeah. Well, you know that old saying. He
made me an offer I couldn’t refuse."

"To throw the fight?"

"Yup. And he'd forgive the loan. Refuse and,
well, let's just say he'd be very unhappy."

"So you agreed?"

"Yeah. I was young and dumb. I knew I
shouldn't. But I kept thinking of getting that loan off her back.
It seemed a small price, wrong as it was."

"So what happened?" I said.

"One fucking punch."

"What do you mean?"

"So I'm supposed to make it look good, right?
Hit him a few times. He hits me back. He was supposed to be some
tough guy, won a lot of fights. So I hit the guy. Just once. And
it's all over. He was on the ground. The crowd was going nuts. The
guy never got up. And that businessman, the one who paid me to take
a dive, he saw the whole thing."

"So then what?" I said.

"Well, as you can imagine, he wasn't too
happy."

My voice was very quiet. "So he tried to kill
you?"

Lawton laughed. "Nah. He liked me. Had 'em
drop me at the hospital, right?"

"Drop you?" I said. "I was there, remember?
They squealed up and kicked you out. You could've died."

"Nah, it'll take more than that to kill
me."

I reached out to trace one of the old
cigarette burns, faint, but unmistakable now that I knew what I was
looking at. "They hurt you," he said.

"Baby," he said, "whatever they did, it
didn't hurt half so bad as losing you."

I felt my eyes grow misty. "Really?"

"Yeah. Even then. First time we met. That's
why I couldn't have you talking about it."

"Why not?"

"Because them hurting me, I can deal with.
But them hurting you, I wasn't gonna let it happen. I still
remember that night. You were so sweet." He laughed. "And
funny."

"I was
not
funny," I said.

"You were too," he said. "And so fucking
beautiful. And your voice. Man, I loved the sound of it."

"You couldn't have loved it that much," I
teased. "You left without saying goodbye."

"I had to," he said, "for your sake. Those
weren't nice people."

"That's for sure."

"And then, a couple months ago, when I'd
almost given up on finding you again, there you were, walking right
past my house, looking just the same as I remembered."

"This is totally unfair, you know."

"How so?" he said.

"I had no idea what you looked like." I
smiled. "But what I did see, and heard, I liked. I liked a lot." I
looked around the hospital room. "Want to know what I wish?"

"What?"

"I wish we were somewhere else."

He smiled. "Yeah?" He sat up. "Let's go."

"Oh stop it," "You're supposed to stay at
least twelve hours."

"For what?"

"Observation."

He leaned close to nuzzle my neck. "The only
person I want observing me," he said, "is you."

An hour later, we were pulling into the
Parkers' driveway. Lawton was behind the wheel of a slick black SUV
that had miraculously shown up in visitor's parking.

"I still can't believe you just walked out of
there," I said.

He pulled up just behind my car and shifted
the vehicle into park. "Wanna know what I can't believe?" he
said.

"What?"

"That we've got another chance." He turned
sideways in the driver's seat to face me. "And I swear to you, this
time I'm not gonna screw it up."

I shook my head. "It wasn't just you. It was
me too."

I looked toward the Parkers' house, dark and
stately in the quiet neighborhood. I'd wanted so badly to belong
here that I'd made excuse after excuse for not being honest. But I
was done making excuses, to me, and to Lawton.

"I should've told you," I said.

"You should've told me what?"

I gave a small laugh. "Where to begin?" I
said. "About house-sitting, Grandma, Josh, my job." I heard a soft
sigh escape my lips. "You know, Lawton. I never meant to lie to
you." I looked down at my lap. "But I guess, if I'm being honest,
it was nice to feel like I belonged somewhere for once."

"Hey," he said, his voice quiet in the
darkened car. "I know exactly where you belong."

"Where?"

"Wherever you want to be." He grinned. "As
long as it's with me."

I returned his smile. "While I’m
apologizing," I said, "I guess I should apologize for flipping out
on you."

He laughed. "Which time?"

"Hey!" I said, giving him a playful swat on
the arm. "I meant about the whole hooker thing. But I've gotta tell
you, I was pretty mad."

"Were you? I couldn't tell."

I laughed. "You are
so
not making this
easy."

His voice grew serious. "Baby, whatever you
said, I deserved it and then some. I should've known what you
meant." He shook his head. "But thinking of you with other guys, it
made me so crazy I wasn't thinking straight."

"So you're pleading insanity?"

"And stupidity. Because I should've known
that's not you. So, if anyone's sorry, it's me."

"Speaking of sorry," I said, "why didn't you
tell me that Shaggy was the guy behind that sex tape?"

"Who's Shaggy?"

"Oh crap. I mean that Chester guy."

"Who?"

"The guy with that camera phone? You know,
the one whose girlfriend pelted him with shrimp?"

Lawton shook his head. "He didn't have
anything to do with that tape."

"He didn't?"

"Nah. Was a totally different guy. Remember
the guy they caught screwing a pumpkin?"

"At the Tiger's game?" I did remember. A few
years earlier, the guy had been the punch-line of countless
late-night jokes, especially after he claimed the whole thing was a
setup.

"That's the one," Lawton said.

"Wow, talk about karma, huh?"

"How so?"

"I mean, look, he set things up to violate
your
privacy, and then his um, sex act was just as infamous.
And talk about embarrassing. Funny how that works, isn't it?"

"Yup." He glanced toward the house. "Want me
to come in with you?"

He'd never been inside the Parkers' house
before. Well, not by invitation anyway. The Parkers definitely
wouldn’t like it. It would violate my agreement and cause all kinds
of grief if they found out.

I smiled. "Yeah, come on in," I said.

When Chucky saw Lawton, he went berserk,
diving for his legs so ferociously that it would've toppled a
lesser man. Lawton crouched down to ruffle his fur, and Chucky
bounded up on him so fast and so frantically that this time, Lawton
did let himself get toppled over. And before I knew it, they were
wrestling with each other across the hardwood floor.

I rolled my eyes. "Boys will be boys." I set
my purse on the kitchen counter and called out to Lawton. "Could
you take Chucky on a little yard walk while I grab some stuff?"

"How little?" he asked.

"Five minutes."

When he left, I dashed upstairs to grab a few
essentials – my toothbrush and makeup, along with a small overnight
bag with a change of clothes.

I looked around the guest room. If the
situation with the Parkers continued to slide, I wouldn't be able
to stay here much longer. But leaving Chucky wasn't an option. The
plants, well, they were on their own.

I felt grubby after those hours in the
hospital, or maybe it was from spending time at Loretta's. But
either way, I needed a shower. When I heard the front door open and
shut, I felt myself smile. I didn't plan on showering here, and I
sure as heck didn’t plan on doing it alone.

I tossed my keys into the overnight bag and
practically flew downstairs, where I grabbed Chucky, and dragged
Lawton out the front door, locking it behind me.

Lawton made a show of looking around. "So,
uh, is the house on fire?"

"Nope," I said. "But I am."

Five minutes later, we were wet and naked in
his shower, surrounded by clear glass on three sides and smooth
marble on the fourth.

We stood in a timeless embrace, our hot, wet
bodies pressed against each other, while the steaming water
cascaded over us. I wanted to be closer, to feel him inside me, and
wrap my legs around his waist and beg him to pound into me like it
was our last night on Earth.

And I wanted to step away, to watch the
streams of water dance over his glorious body, to see his muscles
and tattoos shift and glisten, to watch the thick soapy lather
slide down his skin while my hands and fantasies ran wild.

I wanted it all.

I lifted my head and met his gaze. He lowered
his head, and his lips met mine. I felt a strong hand caress the
back of my neck as my wet hair slid over his long, strong
fingers.

Desperate to be closer, I rubbed up against
him, savoring the feel of his muscles and the rock-hard proof of
his arousal.

Already my breaths were already coming short
and fast. I was drowning in desire, and wet inside and out.
Stifling a groan, I reached for the soap and moved backward,
breaking the embrace while my eyes feasted on this fantasy guy come
to life.

I rubbed the bar of luxury soap between my
hands, watching a thick white lather grow between them. Then, I
brought my hands, soap and all, to his chest, rubbing in slow,
steady circles over those glorious pecs, feeling the muscles
tighten and shift in time with my movements.

I lifted my eyes to gaze at him through my
eyelashes, taking in his wet hair, his smoldering eyes, and his
lips that parted as he stared down at me with an expression of such
love and desire that I felt my heart soar and body tremble.

Breathing hard, I ran my palms across his
chest, watching the lather gather between my fingers and slide
downward, cascading in soapy waves over his washboard abs and lower
still.

My hands drifted lower, sliding over those
tightly defined stomach muscles as the sudsy water danced between
my fingers. Desperate for more, I splayed my fingers, stretching
them out as far as they could go, trying to touch every ridge and
to catalog every sleek line of his amazing body. I ran my hands
over his lean hips and reached around to caress his backside,
relishing the hardness of his ass and the shift of his muscles.

He felt like a dream, a work of art come to
life, and with every shift of his body and every movement of my
hands, I marveled that I was actually here. With him. And that in
spite of everything, this dream guy was actually mine.

I worked up some more lather and moved my
hands back to his front. I wrapped one slippery hand around his
rigid tool, sliding my closed palm up and down the length of him,
the whole time marveling at his amazing size, his perfect shape,
and the smooth hardness that felt so magnificent in my tight wet
grasp.

His arousal pulsed in time with my touch, and
when I tightened my grip, he moaned my name. "Chloe."

I lifted my gaze to his face and felt myself
smile. His eyes were shut, and his lips barely parted. But then, as
if feeling the heat of my gaze, his eyes slowly drifted open, and
slowly, he smiled that heart-stopping smile.

"Turn around," he said.

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

I smiled. "But I'm not done yet."

"Me neither. And I don't want to be. Not
yet." He reached out for my shoulders and gently turned me away
from him. I felt a strong arm wrap around my stomach, and Lawton's
front pressing against my back. His body was hot and hard, and
slippery with soap suds and cascading water.

As for me, I was slippery with something
else. Hot desire that coursed through me like a greedy life-force
with a mind of its own. I wanted him now, and I wanted him
always.

I heard his voice in my ear and felt his lips
on my neck. "Baby, I love you so much it hurts."

A sigh escaped my lips, and my head fell back
against his chest. "I love you, too. And God, I've missed you. I've
missed this. I've missed everything."

He wrapped both arms me and squeezed me
tight, gathering me against him and whispering. so low I could
barely hear. "You're mine. And I'm never letting you go."

His words, sultry and sweet, turned my
insides to butter and my heart to mush. I ground my hips back
against him, urging him closer, and wanting him forever.

I reached up, arching my back as I placed my
hands around the back of his neck, feeling his hard, corded neck
muscles against my palms and his wet, soft hair brush the backs of
my fingers.

I closed my eyes and felt his hands slide
upward until they reached my breasts. He cupped their undersides,
gently squeezing them together and then cupped them upward into the
cascading streams of water as his lips pressed into my neck, and
his hot erection pressed into my back.

When a moan escaped my lips, his hands moved
higher, caressing my curves with sweet persistence until I trembled
against him, panting for more.

When his fingers brushed my nipples, I arched
into him, wanting more, and more again. Soon he was toying with my
nipples, stroking them, rolling them between his hot, wet fingers,
and gently tugging at them until they were hard knobs of taut
desire.

When I ground my backside into him, I felt
one of his hands drift lower, sliding down past my ribs, over my
stomach, and drifting down toward my pelvis. When I felt his
fingers slide back and forth on either side of my hot center, I
moaned and ground my hips forward, my need so desperate that my
body was begging.