“I was hoping you would.” My cheeks warm, and I can’t figure out how to explain what I need. And what I don’t. But when he takes off his boots, then shoves his legs under the covers, I stop unlacing my sneakers to stare at him. “Ford? I’m not that…delicate.” His brows draw together. “When we were together before…we slept naked. Or you’d sleep in your briefs. You can’t tell me you’ve started sleeping fully clothed in the last twenty years, just because.”
Frustration stiffens his shoulders. “Joey, you’re the most important person in the world to me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But this is all new territory for me.”
“Me too.” Though I don’t remove my tank, I unbutton my pants and let them fall to the floor, exposing my scarred thighs and black panties. A groan rumbles in his chest, and my nipples tighten under the bra and tank. I don’t know where my sudden burst of bravery comes from, but this is Ford. The man I was going to marry. He’s seen me naked. Or…at least the twenty-two-year-old version of me.
“I want you to be comfortable, baby. If you need me to sleep with my boots on every night for the rest—” he shakes his head, “I will.”
For the rest of our lives. That’s what he was going to say. A smile tugs at my lips, and for a moment, I feel like I’m normal. Like I’m not broken. Not damaged. Not scarred. Like maybe we’ll be able to come back from everything that’s happened and find our happy ever after.
“I can handle you without pants.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
At my nod, he gets to his feet, and then he’s standing across the bed from me wearing only his black briefs, and I can’t look away. The bulge in the material makes me long for more, and an unfamiliar need stirs deep inside.
“I want to be close to you,” I whisper. That’s not all I want, but it’s all I can manage to say for the moment. Snuggling up to him, I rest my hand on his chest, the light sprinkling of hair tickling my fingers. “You’ve changed so much. The last time we were together like this…”
“The last time, that hair under your fingers wasn’t partly gray.”
My laugh settles me, and I lean up on an elbow. “I like it. Makes you look distinguished.”
“You mean old, right?” Ford brushes a lock of hair away from my face and trails his knuckle along my jaw. “We wasted so much time.”
“How did Gerry find you?” Getting comfortable again, I let the steady beat of his heart calm me. “Because if she knew you were in Boston all this time, she and I are going to have words.”
“Don’t be mad at her. She hired an old cop friend to track me down. I don’t think she had any idea.” He skims his hand up and down my arm, just like he used to. “I swear to God, Joey, if I’d known…I’d have been at your door every damn day until you told me to go to hell or let me in.”
“I wish I could say I would have let you in. I just…don’t know. I’m not…someone you should want to be with.” He starts to ask me why, and I stop him with my finger to his lips. “I haven’t had sex since it happened.”
Ford collapses back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. “So the last person you were with was—”
“You.” After a shuddering breath, I sit up so I can face him. “What happened to me…wasn’t sex. It took me a long time to realize that. He and his men…they hurt us in so many ways. But what they did to us wasn’t sex. It was violence and pain and humiliation.” I pause and wait for him to look at me. “You’re the only person I’ve ever made love to.”
Ford pulls me against him, and his arms tighten around my waist. “Is this okay?”
“It’s perfect.” Nestling my head in the crook of his neck, I breathe him in. Even here, in a foreign country, on the run, his natural scent, the one I think he was practically born with, carries through. A hint of pine, cedar, and a light spice. And everything I want. But even though he’s been amazing today, I’m still terrified for my next words. “I don’t know if I can have sex ever again. I dated a few times over the years. But whenever we got to the physical part of the relationship, I’d bail. Find some excuse to give up on things and run. Eventually, I stopped even trying.”
“That’s why we’re going to talk about what you want and don’t want, buttercup. All of it. I need to know what makes you nervous. What scares you. Anything you’re not 100% positive about. I want to know…” he cups my cheek and brushes his thumb over my lips, “all of it.”
“Ford—”
“I won’t push you, Joey. If you need a week, a month, a year…before you can talk to me about what happened, I’ll wait. As long as you’re with me—as long as you trust me with what you’re feeling now—I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
Ford
She’s so beautiful. So strong and brave. But when I came up behind her, the look in her eyes—pure terror. Now, trepidation laces her tone, but it feels so damn good to have her legs tangled with mine, her hand on my chest, her hair tickling my neck.
“I want it all, Ford. I want to be normal again. To feel like…like I used to.” Wriggling up slightly, she leans in. The kiss starts out gentle, almost chaste, and then her tongue darts out and traces the seam of my lips. I yield, and pure, raw need for her shoots down to my dick. With one of her legs thrown over mine, she quickly notices my arousal, and against my chest, her heartbeat quickens.
“Slow down, buttercup,” I whisper as I break off the kiss and run my hands up and down her back, trying to avoid her bruises. “We have all the time in the world. Tell me what you like.”
“I…I don’t know.” Her hooded eyes hold fear, but also desire. “Touch me.”
“One word, and I stop. Okay?” I lay her down, brushing her hair away from her face. “If you feel anything but pleasure, you have to tell me, Joey.”
“I will.”
I’m not sure I believe her. She wants this so badly, I’m afraid she’ll push herself too far without even realizing it. Dipping my head, I start to kiss along her jaw. “You used to like this,” I say against the delicate skin behind her ear.
