Page 42 of Tear Me to Pieces
Myra’s hands slide up, coming to grip my biceps. “I’m okay with bending the rules.”
“That’s good, because I think we might be doing a lot of that in the very near future.” I slide the hand still at her hip across her belly, tracing the waistband of her pajama pants. “But if you everdecide you’re done, you just say the word and everything stops. Always.”
I don’t know the full specifics of what happened to Myra during her marriage—it’s probably best if it stays that way—but I know enough to assume she’s been touched against her will. I want her to know that will never happen with me.
I tease the tip of my nose against hers. “Can I touch you now?”
Myra’s head barely moves in a nod. “Okay.”
I groan at her quick agreement. “Thank fuck.”
Stepping in, bringing my body flush against hers, I work my hand under the elastic and into the soft cotton of her panties. I’m not expecting her to be as wet as she is, and the slickness of her hot flesh under my fingers has me groaning again. “You’re soaked for me, Sweetheart.”
Myra whimpers as I tease alongside the hard nub of her clit, her fingers digging into my skin as her legs wobble.
“I’ve got you.” I tighten the arm I have around her back, supporting her weight as I gently strum the tiny bit of flesh I plan to use to my full and complete advantage anytime she lets me. “I won’t let you fall.” I rest my forehead against hers, breathing in the air from her lungs as I soak up the feel of her against me. The scent of her skin. The sounds she makes.
I want to stretch the moment out. Bring her to the edge over and over. When I finally let her fall, I plan to leave her wrung out and spent. But as I’m not sure she’s ready for that yet, I let her move as fast as she wants. Let her set the pace.
And my Myra is a bit of a speed demon.
Before I’m ready, she cries out, body shuddering against me as she comes for me for the second time.
When she slumps against me, pride swells my chest. This woman has every reason not to trust men. Not to put her safety and well-being in their hands. But she trusted me when I told her I wouldn’t let her fall. Believed the promise I made her without question or concern.
And it might be the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.
Carefully, I shift her toward the bed, laying her onto the mattress as she pulls in deep gulps of air, her flushed cheeks puffing just a little as she blows them back out.
After lifting her feet into place, I lean down and press a kiss to the slightly sweaty skin of her forehead. “Don’t move.” I straighten, giving her a stern look. “And I expect you to listen this time.” Taking in the boneless state of her, I don’t imagine I’ve got anything to worry about, but I’m making a point.
I appreciate her trying to come to my rescue earlier, but if it had been an actual intruder, and she’d gotten hurt, I would have never forgiven myself.
Myra blinks up at me, the lift of her lids slow, expression dazed. “Kay.”
Satisfied she’s going to listen, I duck into the bathroom, retrieving two washcloths from under the sink and soaking one with warm water. After wringing it out, I carry both the damp rag and the dry one out to where Myra’s still splayed across the blankets.
Her eyes follow my movements, brows pinching together. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning up the mess I made.” I hook a finger under the waistband of her pants, also catching her panties in the process, and hold the layers away from her body. “I want you to be comfortable while you sleep.” I carefully work the warm cloth between her thighs, gently swiping away the slickness collected there before patting it dry.
After righting her pajamas, I straighten, pulling the covers over her before tossing both rags into the hamper and sliding into bed beside her. This time I don’t hesitate or worry about what I should or shouldn’t do. I curl onto my side and pull her body close to mine, resting my head on the pillow as the soft strands of her blonde hair tickle my face.
“Now go to sleep. I’m pretty sure the shit’s going to hit the fan when I tell everyone Butch showed up, and we’re going to need our rest to deal with it.”
15
MYRA
“He’s not over there.Doesn’t look like he even went in that place.” Christian looks more pissed off than I’ve ever seen him as he strides into the kitchen of his home with Simon and Tate at his side. He goes straight to where Lydia sits beside me on one of the stools along the island and pulls her close, like he needs reassurance she’s safe.
I sort of thought Simon’s reaction to Butch being in my house was a little over the top. Based on Christian’s scowl and Tate’s clenched jaw, maybe it wasn’t.
And Lydia seems as confused by that as I am.
She peers up at her husband, pale brows pinched together, as his hand spreads across her expanded belly. “Did something happen? I don’t get why you guys are so upset about Butch being here.”
A series of shifty looks move between the three men, confirming my sister’s voiced suspicion. Something has most certainly happened.
