My nose tingles and my eyes water, but I manage to hold back the tears. When I hear the bump of the front door closing, I suck in a breath and hold it. The waiting seems to take forever. I don’t know what to expect or who will walk through that door.
When it finally opens, it takes me a moment to assess the man who comes inside. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that he’s wearing a white t-shirt and boxers.
I shoot off the bed and rush to Ransom. “What happened? Is everything okay?” It’s so dark in here that no matter how hard I strain to see his eyes, it’s impossible to read him. “You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”
Grasping my wrists, he breaks the hold I have on the front of his shirt and sets me away. I pivot on my heel and follow him back to the bed. Sitting down on the edge of it, Ransom drops his head in his hands and releases a heavy breath.
“Everything is fine now. I kicked her out.” He curses under his breath. “I can’t believe he did that. With you here?” He shakes his head, at a loss for words.
I know exactly how he feels. I can’t erase the image of Florence on her knees. Even though the angle prevented me from seeing much, my brain was more than able to fill in the missing details.
Dropping down next to him, I clasp my hands together, pinning them between my knees. “What did he say?”
“Not much,” Ransom laughs humorlessly. “He’s pretty drunk. In fact, he was passed out cold when I found him. I tried to wake him up so I could punch his lights out, but I couldn’t get much from him. He was pretty out of it. I’m not even sure he knew what was happening.”
“Well, I hope he remembers it in the morning,” I grumble because I intend to plant my fist in his balls and I want him to know why it’s happening.
“I doubt it. Not that I want to sound like I’m on his side, because I’m not, but from what I saw, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Florence might have taken advantage of him.”
I’m floored by his statement, but as I sit and think about it, I begin to feel a little better. It’s marginal, but it’s a hell of a lot better scenario to stomach than the alternative. My anger toward Rebel lessens as my hatred for Florence grows.
“That said, it doesn’t absolve him of responsibility or guilt.” Turning his head, Ransom assesses me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say, waving him off. It’s a lie, but I don’t want him thinking I’m some fragile creature that needs saving. I’m not. I’ve already proven that I can handle life’s many pitfalls. It just happens that I’ve fallen into a few of them recently.
“Really? Because I don’t think you are.” Passing me his charming smile, Ransom bumps his shoulder into mine. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know? It’s okay to lean on people when you need to.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I have big shoulders.”
Despite my mood, I find myself laughing. The moment fades quickly, and then I am huddling into myself. I’m already depressed and I haven’t forgotten how he treated me this week. “Why are you so concerned all of a sudden?”
“Excuse me?” Ransom asks, his forehead creasing.
“You haven’t said a single word to me for days, but when you find me with Rebel, you freak out. And now this.” I lift my arm toward the door, indicating the confrontation that just happened. “I don’t know what to do with all of it.”
Ransom stares at the floor, contemplating his response. When he finally speaks, his words are slow and lacking their usual confidence. “I guess…sometimes it just takes something drastic to make you open your eyes and see the full picture. Seeing you with Rebel today did that for me.”
My head hurts. It feels as if I’m in the middle of a game of tug-o-war and I’m the rope. Rubbing my eyes, I try to wrap my head around the week’s events. First Rebel embarrasses me in front of his family, and then he claims me for his own. Ransom writes me off because I’m not what he expected, and then after witnessing me give his brother a blow job, seems to have experienced a change of heart.
Am I missing something here?
“So you’re saying seeing your brother come down my throat made you realize how much you want me? That’s fucked up.”
Hanging his head, Ransom chuckles. “Yeah, I guess it is. But that doesn’t make it any less true, Joe.” Turning his head, he looks at me over one broad shoulder, those midnight orbs pleading. “I needed some time to wrap my head around what you…do, but I’m okay with it now.”
“Call me crazy, but I don’t want to be with someone who is ‘okay’ with it. There’s nothing wrong with what I do. It’s an honest living.”
“I know it is. It was a shock, Joe. I didn’t expect it, and it took me a little while to come to terms with it, but I’m not mad or upset and I’m not judging your choices.”
“You could have fooled me,” I mutter.
“I’m done fighting, Joe,” Ransom warns, his tone firm. “I’ve missed you these last few days. It’s been hell seeing you every day and not being able to talk to you or touch you.”
“That was your choice,” I point out, my ire peaked. I can’t lie and tell him I’m okay with his decision to cut me loose without explanation.
“Yes, it was, and I’m sorry.” Leaning sideways, he places his chin on my shoulder, looking up at me with puppy dog eyes. “Forgive me?”
The gesture leaves me feeling conflicted. Lifting my chin, I refuse to look at him. “That’s the lamest apology I’ve ever heard.”
Turning his head, he presses his lips the side of my neck. Instantly, a fission of electricity shoots down my spine. “I’m sorry I was an idiot.”
“You were also an ass,” I add, a small smile beginning to take shape.
“That too. I’m only a man, Joe,” he says, reaching up to take hold of my chin. “A simple creature in need of guidance. Won’t you guide me, Joe? Teach me to be better.”
Goddammit, I am not falling for this am I?
Yes. Yes, I am.
Angling my face toward his, Ransom touches his lips to mine. They’re firm, demanding, and they tell me exactly where this is headed. Snaking his arm around my waist, Ransom draws me onto his lap. Complying, I straddle him, wrapping my arms around his neck, giving myself over to him.
Sex doesn’t fix everything, but it sure as hell makes it more fun to deal with.
Lying back on the mattress, I follow Ransom down. As we kiss and touch one another, I can’t help comparing him to Rebel. Ransom is gentler. He takes his time with me, exploring my mouth and body as though he wants to learn all of me and has all the time in the world to do it, whereas Rebel attacks, as if he can’t get close to me fast enough.
Ransom’s calloused hands sneak beneath my shirt, gliding up the sides of my ribcage to cup my breasts. He kneads them, his thumbs stroking across my nipples until they become stiff points. My hips rock against his pelvis and I feel his hard length between my thighs, pressing against me, teasing me.
Suckling my tongue, I moan into Ransom’s mouth and dive deeper into the kiss. My tongue explores his, touching and tasting, tantalizing. Making an impatient sound in the back of his throat, Ransom tugs at my shirt. Sitting up, I lift my arms and he rises up to meet me.
As soon as the material clears my head, Ransom seizes control of my mouth. In this, he and Rebel are the same—they are dominate lovers.
Helping each other out of the rest of our clothing, we fall back on the bed. Wrapping me in his arms, Ransom rolls us over so he is on top. My legs part and he fills the cradle I’ve provided as though he was made to be there.
Nudging my nose with his, his eyes seem to smile back at me. “You’re unbelievably gorgeous.”
My cheeks heat with the compliment. “Thank you.”