I nod my head and my hand lifts slowly to wrap around his neck, the soft cotton of his t-shirt soothing my heated skin. I can feel the heat from his body barely contained by the light shirt and I shiver again, nausea burning my throat. My eyes close and I can’t stop trembling.
“Hey,” he whispers. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take you home. You’re gonna be fine. I’ll take care of you, Uptown.”
I just nod my head, hiding my face in his warm throat, feeling the beat of his heart under the smooth, strong column of his throat. It thrums wildly under my lips and I’m tempted to touch my lips to it, kissing him lightly, licking the salty heat of his skin.
I shake my head and close my eyes, letting my senses drift away. Letting the feeling of someone else caring for me settle my racing heart until I drift off to sleep in his strong arms.
A small smile tilts my lips. The first one in three years. A sigh rattles my body and I sink into darkness, this time feeling safe and settled. Home.
CHAPTER2
Jameson
My eyes don’t want to look away from her soft, still body. I know she’s alright. I can feel her breath on my throat. Feel the soft shift of her breasts against my chest. Feel the desire humming under my skin like a live wire. Sputtering and arcing to life everywhere her soft skin touches mine.
I shouldn’t be thinking the things I’m thinking. She’s soft and sweet. Smells like sweet flowers and sugar. All the good things I remember from my childhood.
The things I feel for her have nothing to do with childhood though.
I’ve seen her around the neighborhood. You’d have to be blind not to. She sticks out like a sore thumb in this part of town. Her long, dark hair perfectly styled and washing down her slim, elegant back in shining waves of raven-black. Her dainty nose always lost in her soft, pastel sweaters that hug her lush curves, tracing the sweet swell of her hips and the narrow valley of her waist. My hands itch to tangle in the raven waves and pull her head back roughly, kiss her breathless. Until she opens her dark whiskey eyes and begs me, pleads with me to take her. Her soft pink lips parting, panting desperately. Needing me. Needing what only I can give her.
But the melancholy that surrounds her like a blanket pulls me back. Settles that wild feeling of need burning in my chest. She’s like a delicate piece of porcelain. A doll that’s cracked and barely holding itself together. Seconds from shattering into a million pieces.
And I don’t want to be the one that shatters her. I can’t do that. As soon as I saw her all I wanted to do was take care of her. Hold her and keep her safe.
I curse loudly when I think about how close she came to losing herself. How close I came to never holding her in my arms and feeling the beat of her heart thumping against mine.
I glance down at her soft, ivory skin again. Her pale skin barely spotted with a little spattering of freckles on the tops of her high cheekbones and tiny nose. Her long, dark lashes fanned out, standing out against the whiteness of her skin. I’m so close to her I can see the dark shadows under her eyes. The telltale signs of sleepless nights.
I know nothing about her. No one at the soup kitchen could tell me anything about her. Just that she was quiet and kept to herself.
I’m the same. If I don’t have something important to say, don’t expect me to say anything.
She shifts and mumbles something under her breath and I stop, my eyes focused on her, wondering if she’ll wake and scream or if she’ll smile that soft curve of her lips that drives my heart crazy and makes my cock jump in my jeans.
She sighs and her arm tightens around my neck, her warm breath dancing on my skin. My own breath hitches in my throat and I hug her tighter, unwilling to let this moment slip away. To let her drift away in a puff of smoke like some far-away dream that never comes to fruition.
She mumbles again in her sleep and I will my arms to loosen, let her breathe.
It’s fucking hard. This close to her, I feel the need for her rage in my body. Hunger for her soft touch. Her smiles. Her happiness. All I want is to make her happy and keep her safe.
Who knew you could fall in love with someone when you’ve never met them?
But I saw how she took care of the people in the shelter. Giving them food and a soft smile that made every one of them feel important in some way. Made every broken man and woman in there stand straighter and taller.
But underneath that smile I saw pain. I saw a deep, unending hurt that twisted her in knots.
She’s broken and all I want is to fix her. Bring her to life. Show her that there’s more waiting for her than darkness.
She shifts in my arms and I halt, my breath still, my body aching at the feel of hers sliding on mine.
But then I start walking again quickly. I need to get her home. Need to see her in my own surroundings. Realize that no matter what this is, I can’t be what she needs. She’s high-class. You can see it in her expensive clothes, worn though they may be. Classy and smart. You can see that in her wide, expressive eyes. In the thoughtful looks she gives the people from the streets when they ask her a question. She doesn’t shy away. You can see it in her face. She’s thinking. Working out whatever answer they need.
She’s a good woman. And she deserves a helluva lot more than I can give her.
I shift her around in my arms when I reach my apartment building. I ring the bell for Mrs. Anderson. The buzzing sounds almost immediately and she meets me in the hall.
“You need to remember your key, young man…” her voice fades away to a squeak when she sees the woman in my arms.
