SHORT ON WORDS but long on need, Mitch couldn’t slow down. Luckily Charlotte seemed to be with him every step. Her little race to the bedroom amplified everything—emotion, need, hunger. Sexy confidence and her own desire kept her standing before him, her gaze direct, her eyes alight with a reciprocal need that filled up all the empty places in his heart.
Drawn to her delicate curves, he watched as his darker fingers curved around her pale breasts, as his thumbs teased her dusky nipples into tight peaks.
Compliments, promises filled his head, but all he said was, “You’re mine.”
Her chin elevated another notch. “Ditto.”
Pleasure pulsed through his system, ending as a throb in his cock. “Feeling territorial, huh?”
“Very.”
“Good.” He left her breasts long enough to open the snap to her shorts, ease down the zipper, and push them over her hips.
Now, finally, he’d see all of her.
Just as he’d suspected, the panties matched the bra, pure white, soft cotton, and scorching hot for being so demure.
Likely because she wore them. He knew he’d seen prettier women, sexier women, but at the moment he couldn’t drum up a single one.
Color tinged her cheeks but her gaze remained steady. “Your turn.”
That commanding tone from her added amusement to everything else she made him feel. “Yes, ma’am.” Anxious to have her hands on his fevered skin, he peeled off the shirt and tossed it. Lack of air-conditioning left the house warm, even with the ceiling fan lazily stirring the air, sending her body’s natural perfume to fill his head.
He toed off his shoes while opening his jeans, aware of Charlotte blindly backing up, dropping onto the edge of the bed, as if her legs no longer supported her.
Pausing with his hands on his zipper, he asked, “Okay?”
She nodded fast and hard, gesturing with impatience. “Go on.”
The humor sharpened in tandem with the lust. “You want to see me, do you?”
“Most definitely.” Her tongue slicked over her lips and her chest expanded before she sighed. “Seems fair.”
Fair would be him dropping to his knees, pressing his face between her thighs, deeply inhaling her luscious scent and then tormenting her to a screaming climax.
If he said all that, she might faint. Already she looked out of her element—urgent, yes, but also wary.
Jeans open and cock hard, Mitch stepped closer to her, petting her hair until he found the clip holding it up. Carefully, so he didn’t pull, he freed it and set it on the nightstand. His fingers slid through her hair until all those pretty curls came loose, falling over her shoulders, draping her nipples.
“Touch me.” His gruff voice urged her gaze from his abs to his face.
With just her fingertips, she traced the shape of him through the denim.
That light, searching touch damn near put him over the edge. He hissed in a breath, his fingers carefully clenching in her hair, massaging, stroking. The bolder she got, the closer he came to the edge, until he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Bad idea,” he growled, stepping away again. “Sorry, but I’m already primed.”
That emboldened her even more and she smiled. “Take them off, Mitch.” Scooting back on the bed, lounged on her elbows, one leg bent, the other extended, she made a show of watching him. “And hurry it up.”
God Almighty. Seeing her like this was a dream come to life. It felt like he’d waited for her forever, maybe even before they’d met because in so many ways, she epitomized everything he’d thought was too out of reach.
She was everything he’d ever craved—and everything he hadn’t even known to want.
After stripping off the jeans, he turned to a dresser, opened the top drawer and took out two condoms. He put one by her hair clip on the nightstand and the other he ripped open, wincing as he rolled it over the sensitive head and along the shaft.
Closing the door to ensure Brute wouldn’t find his way in to them, Mitch came to stand over her. Every breath was a struggle as he told himself to slow down—without much success.
“I hurt for you,” he admitted in a growl, his hand fisting and opening with the need to touch her all over, to feel her warm silky skin, the texture of her nipples and that soft pubic hair.
Going to her back, she lifted her arms to him—and destroyed his will, obliterating his intent. Even as he warned himself not to rush her, he settled onto her body, the touch of skin to skin both easing and sharpening his ache.
The urge to devour her heated him from the inside out. Unable to resist, he took her mouth in a hot, consuming kiss.
Her lips were soft and open, warm and sweet, and the scent of her fragrant skin surrounded him.
She was both sensual and unique. He wasn’t a lucky person, never had been—the opposite, in fact. Life seemed to enjoy kicking him in the nuts, knocking him backward for every step he gained, ensuring that he never got too far ahead.
But then he’d met Charlotte, and damned if the world didn’t look downright promising for a change.
Since he saw her on the first night, his libido had been in a tailspin. Every memory of her conspired against him; her smile, her corkscrew curls, her defiance and compassion and backbone. They hit him like a shot of adrenaline and crushing desire.
Sweeping his hands over her, he absorbed the softness and warmth, the pliant flesh and slender bones, hollows and swells. While toying with one peaked nipple he licked her throat, sucked gently on her tender skin, grazed her collarbone with his teeth.
“Mitch...” Just that, nothing more, and he knew it was because words were already beyond her.
Like him, the mix of carnality and sentiment gripped her. This wasn’t just sex, could never be as simple as sex. With her, it was more.
So much more.
Current problems, the ugly past, even hopes for the future faded away as he kissed a tantalizing trail down her body. Her legs parted around him as he paused to lick her nipples. When he drew her in, sucking gently first, then more strongly, she arched, her slender body tight as a bow.
Yes, that’s what he wanted. Her mindless with need for him. Only him. Leaving her nipples wet and tight, he kissed her ribs, along her waist and the faint curve of her sexy belly. It required more attention, so he lingered there, enjoying the way she squirmed, before easing down to her hipbones.
As he pressed her legs apart, she went still, maybe surprised by what he intended, maybe anxious for it. He didn’t know and it didn’t matter. Tasting her was more important than his next breath.
He hooked one of her legs up and over his shoulder, opening her wide.
Enough light remained in the room for him to see her clearly, all of her, pink and fresh, wet and swollen. Groaning, he leaned in to kiss and lick, holding her steady when her hips came off the bed. “Easy.”
Her panting breaths broke the silence in the room.
Scooping his hands under her rounded backside, he kept her lifted like that, open to him and what he’d do to her. “Just relax and enjoy.”
Incredulity added huskiness to her laugh, but she didn’t fight him. Instead she knotted her hands in the quilt as if to ground herself.
Perfect. Nuzzling against that downy little mound, he explored with his tongue, tasting her, further inciting her, treating them both at the same time. He’d been in a rush, but now, he felt like he could enjoy her for hours.
She disagreed.
Her soft cries turned broken, her movements desperate as she reacted to each prod and thrust and lick of his tongue. Knowing she was close, feeling it in the trembling of her limbs, he drew in her distended clit and softly worked it, tugging, teasing with the tip of his tongue, until the climax crashed through her.
Thank God he’d already donned a rubber.
Knowing he wouldn’t last an entire minute, Mitch came up her body, framed her face for his kiss and pressed into her.
Wet heat closed snugly around his cock, making him stall and draw breath. “Okay?”
Eyes dark and heavy, she nodded. “Yes,” she said in a husky whisper.
Each shallow thrust and retreat allowed him to sink in more. She was small, but wet enough that her body slowly accepted him.
Urging him on, she stroked his shoulders, turned her head to bite his biceps, then licked his skin. It was almost enough to send him into oblivion.
With one last rocking thrust, he buried himself in her.
They both gasped for breath, holding still, her trembling, him rigid with restraint.
“Mitch,” she whispered, and squirmed.
Lost. Totally lost, he came up to his elbows, taking as much pleasure in seeing her as in feeling her, breathing her, tasting her. By force of will he kept control, ensuring his thrusts were smooth and steady for as long as he could until it felt like the boiling pressure would destroy him.
“Yes,” she whispered, her hand to his jaw, watching him.
And he realized, she enjoyed what she saw.
Giving up, he pressed deep and let release roll through him, the hard rush taking away his strength until he slowly sank down to rest against her. Her lips touched his shoulder and he felt it in his heart.
Minutes later, his erection gone, he knew he had to leave her or risk pregnancy. She wasn’t ready for that, and honestly, neither was he. He wanted the business up and running, as profitable as hard work could make it.
He wanted the house to be a home.
And he needed Newman to be nothing more than a bad memory.
Then, God yes, then he’d love to plan a future with Charlotte. The thought put a smile on his face.
“Mm,” she said, her fingertips lazily gliding along his shoulder. “I think we’re slipping off the bed.”
His smile broadened even more. “You took my strength.”
“Sorry, but I have none to spare.”
Laughter with sex. Who knew that combo could be so sexy? “Stay put a second, okay?” He straightened and removed the spent condom, wrapping it in a tissue and tossing it in a small trash can near the door.
When he turned back to her, he found her eyes barely open, languid and replete, watching him.
Honestly, yeah, since they’d started out with her sideways in the bed, she did look in danger of slipping over the side. Gently he scooped her up, but instead of reclining again, he sat against the headboard and held her in his lap.
Odd, but the bed, the walls, the closeness of the room, no longer felt restrictive. His breath didn’t tighten, his guts didn’t burn.
Maybe she’d worn him out too much for excesses of any kind. He didn’t have the energy for angst.
She touched his jaw. “What is it?”
So damn perceptive. “Nothing.”
Unconvinced, she glanced around, much as he had, and drew her own conclusions. “It’s the room, isn’t it? I know you prefer to sleep outside.”
True, but no reason to belabor it. Talking about the past and his shortcomings would only taint their time together—
“Mitch,” she quietly reprimanded, and damned if she didn’t look like a tempered version of Ros. It made him grin.
And earned him a pinch. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me.” Obviously she wouldn’t let it go.
Lying to her was unthinkable, so he shrugged and tried to make light of it. “Usually, yeah.” He wouldn’t be a maudlin ass. He wouldn’t tell her that having her here with him made it different. “I prefer to sleep outside.” Before she could dig into that, he redirected her. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“About prison?”
“About you and me, actually—and yeah, some stuff about prison.”
“I’ve never sat naked on an equally naked man’s lap talking. I like it.” She stroked her fingers through his chest hair. “Go on.”
It struck him that she was right. “You know, I haven’t done anything like this either. Before you, sex wasn’t about talking. It was just a physical release.” Cold. Almost...lonely.
With her, everything felt new.
“I suppose you’ve been with a lot of women?”
Earlier in his life, no. But... “After prison, I was excessive.” That sounded bad, so he shook his head. “Excessive on rejoicing.” Sort of. “I ate steak every damn night, and these crazy desserts. I gained ten pounds.”
She snuggled closer. “And lost it again, I see.”
This was the tricky part. “I overindulged in everything I’d been denied. Including sex.” He watched her, hoping she’d understand.
She tried not to scowl, but the shadows in her eyes gave her away. “Did you get involved with anyone special?”
Kissing the end of her nose, he said, “It was just sex, and it didn’t matter—but none of them were you. With you, it matters. A lot.”
The wary expression softened.
“That nonsense only lasted a few months and I was always safe. Once I decided to come here, I got my head on straight, got my act together. I lost those pounds, like you said, got fit again.” He chewed the corner of his mouth, not wanting to be crude, but needing her to know. “I wanted to be healthy inside and out before looking up Brodie and Jack, so I saw a doctor. Not just because of the women, but prison is a filthy place.” He shook his head, unwilling to talk about the often-nasty food, the unclean showers, the attacks with homemade knives. “The thing is, I made sure I was healthy.”
Her palm felt cool against his jaw. “I wasn’t worried.”
Her gentleness destroyed him. “But don’t you see, babe? You should have been.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t proven your honor right off. But you did. That very first night, you offered help and nothing more. You stood up to Bernie.”
He snorted. “That was like standing up to a puppy. And you should know, I was thinking all kinds of things. About you, I mean. If the guys hadn’t shown up—”
“What? You would have come on to me? I wouldn’t have minded that.”
“Charlotte—”
She touched his mouth. “And if I’d said no?”
Without hesitation, needing her to believe him, he said, “No is no.”
“There, you see?” She smiled in triumph. “You’re an honorable man, and because of that, I knew you’d covered your bases.”
The lump of emotion clogging his throat made it tough to swallow. Unable to pull his gaze from hers, feeling more than he’d even felt in his life, he whispered, “You astound me.”
She looked a little overwhelmed herself. “Well again, I don’t want to scare you off, but with you, things have felt right from the beginning.”
Mitch crushed her close. “All my life, I’ve made a point of not wanting something that I didn’t know how to get. But now I want you.”
She tipped her head back to smile at him. “Seems you know how to get me.”
God, he hoped that was true.
“I know how I feel,” she said, lowering her gaze to his mouth, then his chest. “But are you sure it’s not Brodie and Jack that’s the attraction? I’m part of their lives, part of the family, and that matters, right?”
For sure, neither of them made him ache with lust. He smoothed down her wild, beautiful hair. “You have my word, I won’t lie to you, ever. So yes, it matters. It’s like if I painted the best possible scenario for my dream life. Having them as real family, this with you, even the atmosphere of the town, would be it.” He pressed his mouth to hers, firm and fast. “But even if I lost them. If even they ended up hating me—”
“They wouldn’t.”
“—I’d still want you. More than anything else, it’s about you. From that first night when you touched me... I think I already knew.”
Happiness lit up her face, made her eyes bluer and her smile bright. “You see, that’s why I’ve never been worried with you.”
The laugh took him by surprise. He was trying to be sincere, trying to make her understand how much she meant to him. “If you won’t be cautious enough to ensure your own safety, then I’ll cover the bases for you.”
One teasing finger touched the indent of his chin, traced down his throat to his sternum. “Hmm,” she whispered, leaning in for a kiss. “How are you going to do that?”
For starters, he’d keep her near as often as possible. “You have my word, I won’t ever hurt you. Not by accident, not through negligence. Not in any way.”
Her smile was both tender and smug. “I already knew that.”
Needing her to understand he was serious, he vowed, “No one will work harder than me either, or want to make it work more—”
“Mitch.”
“I’ll do everything I can.” And it would have to be enough, because any scenario that didn’t include her was unacceptable. He cupped her face. “I swear it.”
With her eyes staring into his, she searched his face, nodded acceptance, and smiled. “Will you tell me why sleeping in the bedroom bothers you so much?”
Well hell. Not what he’d hoped to hear, but then it was better than being told to back off.
CHARLOTTE PUT HER arms around his neck and held him. He was warm and hard and his scent swirled around her, filling her with a mix of need and love and comforting security.
She needed to know if loving him would mean sleeping in a tent. She’d do it, if that’s what he needed. But her hope was that, with someone at his side, it wouldn’t be so bad.
“Sleeping in here...” He trailed off, cleared his throat. “It makes me feel like I’m back there again.”
Did he have nightmares? Oh, how she wished for a way to protect him. “I understand.”
Tentatively, his hands settled low on her back. “I won’t describe it to you. I wouldn’t even want you to know what it’s like.” He bent his head to her neck, and she felt his hot breath, slow and gentle. “There was one guy—he was claustrophobic and it was tough to see. He walked around like a damned zombie, always zoned, shaking, freaking out over every little sound.” He pulled her tighter to him. “Easy prey.”
“How awful,” she whispered, her throat thickening.
“After I gained some clout—after that fight I told you about—I tried to defend him when I could. Some of the guards hated my guts for not going with the status quo. Others, a few good men, told me they appreciated me. One even reported the guy’s issues, and he got some medical help because of it.”
Even in prison, Mitch had tried to do the right thing.
“It was tricky, talking to a guard. Anything close to resembling a snitch was a death knell. Snitches were hated even more than rapists.” He cupped her breast, then ran his hand down her side to her hip. “I did what I could on my own. And I got a terrible reputation.”
“I’m not sure a rep for defending others is such an awful thing.”
“Maybe not. It got to where people gave me a wider path. Some inmates anyway. Others wanted to kill me.”
“Mitch.” She burrowed closer. He was here now, with her, big and strong and capable. He had family and backup and he’d never again be alone. Knowing it made her feel better, so she hoped he felt better too. It’d take time, she knew.
It wasn’t just his years in prison, but the years of neglect and abuse before that.
If she could, she’d demolish Newman for him. She knew Mitch well enough now to know he wanted that honor himself, but to her mind, he should be spared further violence and conflict. He needed peace to move forward.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” He trailed a finger along her thigh. “I told you, it’s all ugly. We should get back to—”
“I want to know everything about you.” She’d always found that talking about things lessened their impact. When she’d lost her parents, Rosalyn had spent many nights sitting up with her, listening and letting her unload her grief and fear.
And then she’d helped her to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.
Could she do the same for Mitch? Yes, it was different, but hurt was hurt, and in her heart she believed it would help. At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt.
Looking up at him, she whispered, “Please?”
A slight frown kept his dark brows together, and he’d set his mouth in a grim line. Finally he nodded.
He didn’t look happy about it, but he did continue. “I gained allies after that first attack—men I wouldn’t associate with now, but back then, they watched my back like I watched theirs. Didn’t matter what we’d done, why we were in prison.”
“It was about survival?”
“That sounds really dramatic, but yeah, something like that.”
“Earlier today, when we talked...what did you mean when you said you’d been hurt?” She’d had all day to think about the conversation, the details he’d given and those he’d glossed over. Now she had more questions than ever.
He took his time, measuring his words, until Charlotte started to think she’d pushed too much again. Then finally, after a kiss to the top of her head, he explained, “In prison, you find everything suspect, every movement, every word. At first it seemed impossible to know if someone was coming in to throw a punch, or just talk. After enough bruises, though, I learned fast. If someone tried to get me alone to talk, I kept my guard up and at the first sign of provocation, I kicked in their teeth. It became a sixth sense, knowing trouble when I saw it. Hell, I could smell it.”
The swell of his chest drew her hand, and she stroked over him. He was such a dominating force, with the same physical attributes as his brothers. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what that type of existence might do to a person. “Sleeping was tough?”
“You don’t sleep, not really. I got to where I’d hear if my cell mate turned over.” He rubbed his chin on the top of her head.
No wonder the room made him uncomfortable. It probably brought back all those tense memories. “The fight you told me about, that was the worst?” She prayed to God nothing else that terrible had happened.
“It was.” Again he went quiet, but not as long this time. He spoke fast, maybe wanting to get it over with. “The minute I saw him looking at me, I knew what was going down and I started fighting.” She felt the tension invading his muscles. “Back then three to one meant I’d get pulverized.”
“Back then?”
He rolled one massive shoulder in a casual shrug, not bragging, just very matter-of-fact. “I learned to bulk up real quick. I learned to be fast and I learned to be stealthy. After that, I never thought about it—someone came at me, I threw a punch as hard as I could with the intent to take someone’s head off his neck.” He tangled his fingers in her hair, gently massaging her scalp. “I know where to kick to cripple a man. I know how to break bones quick and clean.”
The shocking part for her was that he’d come through it all intact. Yes, maybe with some residual issues, but it hadn’t made him cruel, and it hadn’t made him a criminal. “You’ve done that?”
“More than a few times while in prison.” Expression earnest, he touched her face. “Now I avoid violence whenever I can. But you should know, I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you, Charlotte. Whatever it takes.”
She wanted to spare him, not force him into a position of more brutality. Did he care even more than he realized?
Was he too maybe falling in love?
She didn’t press him on it. This, today, should be about him. She wanted to hear whatever he felt compelled to tell her, to show him—in no uncertain terms—that it changed nothing for her.
It was too soon to know it, too soon to feel this much, but he was it. For her, he was everything.
So she tried a smile that had no effect on him. “Will you promise me one thing?”
His thumb brushed her cheekbone. “Anything. Everything.”
Her mouth trembled—and she made her own vow: to hold him to that. “Remember that you’re not alone anymore. You’ll never be alone again.” And she lifted up to kiss him.