When I'm Gone
Page 36

The ache between my legs was so intense now that I had to squirm and squeeze my legs together. Something to make it stop. I needed it to stop.
“Spread your legs. I’ll make it better,” Mase said in a demanding tone that startled me.
I wasn’t sure what to do. If I spread my legs, I knew he was going to touch me there. My body was saying yes, it needed it, but my brain was telling me it would hurt. I was dirty there.
“Please, baby. Let me take care of that pussy. It’s so wet I can smell you, Reese. It’s driving me crazy. I’ll even kiss it if you’ll let me. Anything, baby. I’ll do anything for you. Fucking anything.” He sounded desperate.
I loved him.
I didn’t want to lose him to some woman who didn’t need to be begged.
I wanted to make him happy.
I pushed the fear back and opened my legs just enough so that his hand slipped between them. He gently pulled my legs open more, and I held my breath as his hand slid down my thigh.
I fought the panic. I tried to keep it back. This was Mase. He was good to me. I loved him.
Then a finger slid inside my bikini bottoms, and the ache vanished as the memories crashed over me. I was going to be sick.
I couldn’t do this. Oh, God, I couldn’t do this.
I shoved his hand away and jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I couldn’t get sick.
Turning on the faucet, I splashed cold water on my face several times and told myself over and over that I was OK.
Mase
I had never hated anyone as much as I hated myself at that moment. The only man I hated more was her goddamn stepfather. Afraid to touch her, I stood behind her as she splashed cold water on her face and chanted in a soft voice, “You’re OK. It’s OK. You’re OK. It’s OK.”
With every “OK,” my chest felt like it was being ripped wide open.
My head had been telling me to stop. I was pushing for too much. But I couldn’t stop touching her. She felt so fucking good. Seeing her face as I gave her pleasure was like crack. I wanted more and more of it.
I had scared her in the end, though. I was asking for too much.
But I wasn’t willing to lose her. I’d do whatever the hell she wanted me to. I just didn’t want to lose her.
After what seemed like an eternity, she turned off the water and reached for a towel to dry her face. She took several deep breaths before dropping the towel and turning to face me.
I had started to apologize when her mouth puckered up into a pout, and then she burst into tears. Shit!
Without waiting for her, I pulled her into my arms. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if she was crying because of me and what I’d done or if she was crying because of her own reaction.
“It’s OK, sweetheart. I got you. It’s OK,” I said, trying to soothe her. I hated the sobs that caused her body to shake in my arms.
“I’m so-o-o-orry,” she cried loudly.
Fuck that. I picked her up, carried her to the bed, and sat down with her still in my arms. I leaned against the headboard and held her like a baby, cuddling her to my chest. “I told you not to apologize to me. Ever. It’s me who’s sorry, Reese.”
She grabbed my T-shirt in her fist and cried harder.
“I’m br-r-roo-o-ken,” she sobbed. “You do-o-on’t ha-ave to se-e-ttle for br-r-r-ooo-oken.” She let out a loud wail like she was mourning a death.
God, I swore, if I ever found the man who did this to her, he would pay.
I tucked her head under my chin and tightened my hold on her. “You are perfect. So perfect that you take my breath away. I’m completely obsessed with you. You’re all I see anymore, Reese. Nothing about you is broken. Please, don’t let me ever hear you say that again. I want you to see yourself the way I do. This breathtaking beauty who has me so completely fascinated. She’s a fighter. She’s strong. She’s fun, and she is kind and honest. She doesn’t judge others. She accepts people for who they are. She doesn’t expect anything but gives beauty to the world around her freely. That is who I see, Reese. That is who you are. See that, too, sweetheart. Please, see that, too.”
Her crying dissolved into little hiccups, but her grip on my shirt only intensified. I watched as she finally tilted her head back to look up at me with red, swollen eyes. Even now, she was still amazing.
“You think that . . . about me?”
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Yes, I do.”
She started to say something, and her body tensed. I knew she was just now realizing that she was still topless. I shifted quickly, pulled my shirt off, and slipped it on her. I didn’t want her to move. Not yet.
She helped by putting her arms through the holes. It was too big on her, but seeing her covered up in my shirt stroked my possessive beast.
“Thank you,” she said, wrapping her arms around her stomach like she was cuddling with my shirt. I liked that, too.
“I asked for too much tonight. This was my fault. I will be more careful in the future. I swear. Please, don’t stop trusting me,” I said, needing her to believe me.
She frowned. “You always asked me. I could have said no. It isn’t your fault.”
But it was. “Next time you want more, you will have to ask for it. I won’t push again. I swear to you.”
Then we would both know she wanted it.
She sighed and covered her face with both hands. “I wish I wasn’t like this.”
I did, too. But for different reasons. I wished she had no nightmares in her past. I hated that she suffered from something so horrific. Hell, I hated that she suffered at all.