Page 34 of Lesson In Forgiveness

She recoiled, an image of Dominic’s face transposing over Grit’s. Eyes the color of her own bore into her head, alive with madness and lust no father should ever feel toward his flesh and blood. She remembered the pressure of his tongue trying to force through the tight line of her lips, the way he grabbed her wrist and twisted it until the bones cried and her mouth opened in a silent cry of pain.

Her cheeks ached as she recalled how he slammed his hand over her face, his fingers digging into her bones after she bit him in an effort to stop his advances, how his palm covered her nose and mouth, blocking her breathing until spots danced over her vision.

Wrenching her head to the side, Tabitha hauled in a breath. Because her insides were quivering with memories, she let words babble out in a jumbled rush. “Run, run, run went the rabbit. Being scared is a very bad habit. She didn’t stop and look, and got hit by a truck. Die, die, die went the rabbit; living was the last of her habits.”

“All right, sweetheart. We need to move slower, that’s fine.” Gentle fingers slid around her nape, squeezing just enough to divert her attention away from sickening recollections. “I guess that’s today’s task to work on.”

“The bird and the bee were best of friends,” she mumbled, only partly aware of Grit tackling the buckles on one of the binders. “They liked to play games and set impossible trends. An argument broke out with a scream and a shout, and the bee—”

Fingers covered her mouth lightly, stilling the words. “The bird and the bee had makeup sex, raised a brood of weird bee-chick kids, and lived happily ever after. The teller of their story took a fucking breath and calmed herself until she remembered where she was, and that she was safe.”

Her eyes locked on his, anchoring herself in his presence. The first breath was hard won, a hefty inhale through her nose. The second wasn’t quite as difficult, and the ones that came after became gradually easier than the last.

Oh, that panic attack was sneaky, she thought in dismay. Even her manic ramblings weren’t enough to disguise it from Grit, and that was simply unacceptable.

Crazy Tabitha was the only thing concealing her weak and damaged core from onlookers—it was so much a part of her now that she’d welded the façade into her personality immaculately.

Rory McCabe saw right through her to what she truly was.

The binders slid off her arms with a soft thud, releasing her from their torture. Flexing her fingers, Tabitha gathered her scattered wits. It took a few minutes, seeing as Grit kept exploding them like shrapnel, and she was grateful he said nothing while she composed herself.

Finally, she gave a sad laugh. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“We’ve been heading toward it for an hour,” he disagreed. “Now we dig in for the long haul because you’re one hell of a project.” He rubbed his bearded cheek lightly across her—thankfully—hairless one. “I seem to have a day off. Why don’t we put it to good use by ordering in breakfast, then getting to know each other more?”

She lifted her eyebrow. Most men she knew would be figuring out a way to drill their cock through her panties to get inside her, yet he was willing to walk away? Yes, he was aware she was afraid—so had the others who’d taken their pleasure from her, reveling in her pain and her fear until they rutted into her and came. “There’s the not so small matter of your…”

“Raging erection?” he supplied with a grin.

“Yes, that.”

He lifted a shoulder. “It’ll subside once I put some distance between it and your pretty pussy. Contrary to popular belief, men don’t actually die from cases of blue balls.” With a groan, he kissed her forehead before rolling off her onto his back. “I’ve survived much worse than penile discomfort.”

Keeping her eyes averted, Tabitha sat up. “I’ll go order room service; you take care of that.”

“All right,” he agreed easily, then his voice deepened. “Set one foot outside the door, little tiger, and you won’t like the consequences. If I have to chase you around the hotel, across the damn city, you’ll spend the rest of your time with me trapped in those binders, reliant on me for everything from feeding you to wiping your ass. Are we clear on that?”

Cockily, she gave him a salute as she slid off the bed. “Promises, promises, whispered the flustered girl, leaving the man to jack off in his own little world.”

“Get on with you, smart ass. I’ll have the breakfast platter, extra bacon, double the eggs, and a side plate of waffles.”

“How are you not fat?”

“Superior metabolism.” The swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip was definitely suggestive. “And a whole lot of jacking off.”

Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she found the soft robe he’d brought her last night and covered herself up. It was easier to banter with him now he wasn’t looming over her. “Your dirty personal habits are nothing to do with me.”

His laughter followed her from the room.

*

Grit

“Hmm, I see I need to educate you in the wonders of the magic box.”

Tabitha’s hand paused halfway to her mouth, the glass of pineapple juice already tilting toward her lips. “This is what you meant by getting to know each other better? You belittling my lack of television and movie experience?”

“Well, so far we’ve established that you’ve missed some of the greatest on-screen masterpieces in the history of humankind.” Grit pointed his fork at her. “Granted, that’s not entirely your fault, although I do believe you could’ve made some effort to rectify that deficiency. It doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m going to correct that oversight after breakfast.”

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