Page 11 of You Are My Every Reason

“Night, Rich,” I whisper back, closing my eyes, praying that when I open them, this all isn’t just a dream.

ChapterEight

RICH

I’ve never given much thought to the smell of my own shampoo. Hell, if you’d randomly asked me what the smell was, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you a week ago.

Now, I’m well aware that it smells of lemon and peppermint. Not only that, the smell now gives me a fucking hard-on because it’s what my girl always smells like. Teddy had gotten her some girly shit to use. It is in the shower, but it hasn’t been touched.

It’s been torture smelling it and the sweet mix of her natural scent together. It wraps around me every fucking morning. I wake up to it and Fallon’s hair falling onto my chest. No matter how we end up falling asleep, I always wake up with her clinging to me. It’s truly the sweetest fucking torture I’ve ever experienced.

It has been hard to keep my hands to myself. They’ve itched to reach out and pull her to me. I have to fight it. I don’t want to spook her and then not have her in my bed anymore. I know keeping myself under control is the only option. So this will have to be enough for now.

Who the fuck am I kidding? If this was all she’d ever give me, I’d still take it. Over the past few days, her nightmares have been happening less frequently. It’s helping that when she jolts awake from one of them now, she remembers where she is.

Each time she startles, I hold her close and whisper to her over and over that she’s safe. That no one will ever get to her. That I have her. That as long as I live and breathe, no hair on her head will be touched again unless she wants it to be. After a few moments, her body will slowly relax, and she’ll fall back asleep.

A couple of times I could sense her restlessness while she was sleeping; sure she was having a bad dream, I’d rub her back, again whispering to her until the tension left her body.

"Rich," Fallon mumbles in her sleep. Her face is buried in my neck, her mouth grazing my skin. She's pressed into my side while I'm on my back.

"I'm here," I respond gently, running my hand up her back. Fallon lets out a small moan, sliding her leg on top of me, brushing against my cock in the process. I bite back a growl. Morning wood is one thing, but this dollface touching me is a whole other thing.

My cock has never been this hard in my life. It’s painful to a degree. Here I’d thought I had my shit under control, that I was nothing like other dipshits my age that are led by their dick and only think with it.

I was sure I’d funneled all of that into the gym and fighting. That I burned it off, if it was there. Then Fallon came along, and I can’t keep my shit together. I’m not pissed about it, more annoyed with myself when I’m stiff as fuck, and my girl is wiggling against me having a nightmare. It’s so not the damn time, but I can’t do shit about it. No matter how hard I try, that shit isn’t going down.

She doesn’t even have to be near me, and I’m sporting wood. Having her so close all the time is going to be my undoing. I’ve already had to escape to the bathroom on numerous occasions to jerk off, which is pointless. As soon as I’m in her presence again, I’m in the same exact predicament.

“Rich.” Fallon says my name again, but this time, there is a soft moan to it. Her tiny body shifts, moving more over me so that her soft chest is pressed to mine. I close my eyes, feeling her nipples through the thin shirt of mine she has on. I’m not going to survive this. Her rubbing herself against me, and me not being able to touch her the way that I want is going to be the death of me.

I slide my hands up her back, holding her in place. If she goes any lower, her pussy will meet my cock. I’m fucking worried that she’s going to wake up and freak the fuck out if she feels my cock pressed to her.

Fallon blushes whenever her eyes linger on my bare chest. I’ve noticed that whenever West or King kiss their girls, Fallon will give curious glances. She's clearly not accustomed to witnessing intimate moments. Even that first night she woke up pressed to me, she’d been flustered and apologetic.

There are times she will cling to me while others she backs way the hell off. I’m never sure where she stands or what she is thinking. I’ve got her opening up little by little, but there is so much more I want to know about her. She gives me small glimpses into who she really is and what she wants every day. It pulls me further under.

I’ve never wanted to know everything about another person before. With her, I greedily eat up anything she will give me and sit close, almost begging for more. I hide that from her, though. If she knew the things I was thinking when it came to her, she’d run from me too. I don't want to think what I'd do if she did that. It honestly confuses my thoughts, leaving me with the impression that I am no better than the person who had previously imprisoned her.

You'd take care of her, though; it would be different.My mind is always quick to come up with a reason why it's okay and different when I want to do it to her. Those dark thoughts make me wonder if I have more of my father inside of me than I realized. I’m trying to navigate my way with this the best I can.

A small sigh leaves her as her mouth presses to my neck. I can’t stop the small groan that comes from me. I can take a punch to the face and not make a sound, but when her soft lips brush against me, I’m done for.

Fallon’s body tenses; I hear her suck in a breath, letting me know she’s awake. “You’re okay,” I reassure her. Once upon a time, I’d take pleasure in scaring people to stay away from me with a mere look or my size. Fallon is like a scared kitten I’m trying to gain trust with.

“I’m on top of you,” she whispers.

“My own personal blanket.” I try to make light.

“I—”

“Don’t apologize.” I cut her off. That word too easily slips from her mouth. It silently enrages me that she’s had to live a life where apologizing was the only way she was able to get by.

“Right.” Slowly she lifts her head, those green eyes of hers locking with mine. “How do I always end up all over you?” I want to tell her because she was meant to be mine. That her body knows it belongs to me, but I once again keep those thoughts to myself.

“Because you like me.” I smirk. Fallon ducks her head back down into my neck. “Hey, now. Are you denying it, dollface? Don’t go hurting my feelings.” A small laugh slips from her. “God knows I enjoy you in my bed.”

“Really?”

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