“Where you been? You took off after my daughter beat the shit out of you.”
“Knew I was going to get kicked out for fucking with an Old Lady. Licked my wounds, but I’m back now.”
“Why?” I demand.
“It’s not all that great out there, Hawk.”
“Yeah?”
She nods her head as her gaze focuses on mine. “I wanted to be an Old Lady. That’s all I wanted. I wanted to be safe. Being out there, alone, I realize that I was safe here.”
“You were, but you fucked it up.”
“Let me make it better,” she purrs.
Better? She better just watch her fucking back, but my dick is hard from flicking my gaze between her bare tits and her full lips. I’m not going to deny my dick anything, never have.
“Suck and fuck me, then we’ll talk when I’m sober.”
“Oh god,” she moans. “You’re going to have a hard cock and not be able to come, aren’t you?”
“Get ready, baby.” I chuckle. “I’m fucking all your pretty holes tonight.”
Chapter Seven
AVAH
I moan as I roll from my back to my side and stare at my closed bedroom door. I know that Keaston is somewhere on the other side. He hasn’t left my side since he came over yesterday morning and now, he says he’s going to come to work with me, then get food and make me dinner.
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I look down and cringe at the way my belly rolls. Six-months ago I would have gone on a juice cleanse and spent every waking hour in the gym at the thought of a belly roll.
Though the urge to completely get rid of every ounce of fat on my body is still strong inside of me, I have been fighting it. Not only because I know it’s not healthy, but also because I’m no longer required to be perfect and a fantasy.
Fantasy.
I snort.
There is nothing sexy about a girl with daddy issues who surgically altered almost every part of the body that she sells for money because she’s uneducated and has low self-esteem. There’s absolutely nothing sexy about that.
Nothing fantasy-worthy.
Nothing.
Slipping from bed, I shuffle over to the bathroom and take care of business before I brush my teeth, then I grab my long sweater that I used for a robe and make my way out to the living room.
I’m surprised to see that Keaston is dressed, his hair damp from the shower, as he sits on my small sofa, his phone in hand.
“I can’t believe you slept on that thing,” I grunt, pointing toward the love seat that has sheets draped across it and a pillow.
He lifts his head, his eyes finding mine and a kind smile tugs on his lips. “I did. Maybe we should go to my place tonight, my couch is bigger,” he informs me.
My eyes widen and I blink as I stare at him. “I can’t,” I whisper.
“He ain’t here and you ain’t his.”
“What are you asking me, really?”
His lips stay turned up, a smile planted on them as his eyes look up and down my body. “Babe,” he snorts.
“Yeah?” I ask.
He shakes his head once. “You’re hot as fuck. You’re being stalked and my place is bigger. You’ll stay with me.”
I don’t ask him, but the first thing that comes to mind is, at what cost? Pressing my lips together, I walk past him and into the kitchen, silently starting my Keurig. I think about his words, think about what he’s truly asking me, what he really means.
I’m lost in my head, thinking and going over what he’s saying, over and over, until I feel something warm against my waist. My breath hitches when his front presses against my back.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to do more, for his hand to wander, for his lips to touch me. They don’t, nothing happens, he stays with his body pressed against mine and his hand firmly planted on my hips.
“You aren’t ready. That’s fine. You will be,” he purrs. “From this moment on, you’re in my bed, babe.”
“Keaston?” I whimper.
“You will be, and when you are, I’ll be right here. Won’t push you until you’re ready, but, babe. It’s gonna happen.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not going to happen, not ever because even with him pushed right up against me, his warm breath on my skin, I feel absolutely nothing. Not even his impressive hard length pressing against my ass does a single thing for me.
Fucking Hawk.
“Keaston,” I say, my tone warning.
He clears his throat and takes a step back. Turning around, I tilt my head back so that I can look up into his pretty eyes. I shake my head once and open my mouth to speak, but he holds up his hand, palm facing me.
“You’ll get there, babe. Trust me. Just takes time.”
“I’m not sure,” I rasp. “I had a bad past and I’m not like a regular woman.”
His eyes almost twinkle, but his lips aren’t smiling. I press mine together, my gaze flicking up from his mouth to his eyes.
“We all have shit in the past, babe. We didn’t, we would probably be well-adjusted individuals living in a big house in the burbs with a white picket fence around it, two kids, a dog, and a minivan.”
Lifting my hand to my lips, I can’t help but laugh. Dropping my arm, I shake my head a couple of times, my messy from sleep hair flying around my shoulders. “You have no idea how fucked up those kinds of people are, Keaston. I don’t think normal or well adjusted exists.”
He hums, lifting his hand, extending his finger until he touches the tip of my nose. “I’m sure. You’re in my bed, at my place, at least until this shit calms down. We’ll reevaluate. Now, go get ready for work, I’m sure you need to head that way soon.”
“Don’t you have to go to
