Page 21 of How to Trust a Hellhound
Wilder didn’t laugh or mock me, though. He just hummed in encouragement and kept holding me.
“It was exciting, what we did in the bedroom. Or it started that way, anyway. Then I don’t even know. I just wanted to make him happy, and I thought I was making him happy there, and sometimeshe seemed so loving when we were together like that. I don’t know. I think for him it was all just playacting, but it had me all muddled inside,” I admitted.
Wilder’s voice was calm and reassuring when he spoke. “What happened wasn’t your fault, Josh. He manipulated you, and he abused you. He took advantage of everything good inside you. That isn’t your shame—it’s his.”
The words made me cry again, and I wrapped my arms around Wilder while he held onto me.
Yes, I had been manipulated. I had been abused. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t admitted that to myself. I’d always made excuses for Rick—he’d had a bad day at work, he’d just been taking out his anger on me because I was safe, he hadn’t meant it, he’d been drinking, I’d done something wrong. But really, none of that mattered. He’d hurt me, emotionally and physically.
I wasn’t even sure when it all started. There was no defining moment, like in the movies. There was no beating that took place out of the blue. I couldn’t even remember the first time he’d gotten physical with me, shoving me or grabbing me. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time, I was sure. Then it had gotten progressively worse, and somehow I hadn’t really noticed.
And there was the sex. That definitely confused things. I had enjoyed when Rick got a little rough, because it was always accompanied by praise and him talking about how good I was for him. And it felt good—I liked it. I hadn’t known that about myself. I hadn’t known that playful slaps on the ass, bites and scratches, or a rough blow job where he took control could make me feel so good.
Eventually the sex wasn’t always like that. Sometimes—maybe more often than not—I was left feeling used and vaguely cheap, but Rick would call me selfish and say every time didn’t have to be some big production. And then there were the times where he made me come apart with pleasure and whispered sweet words to me the whole time. I held on for the times where it was still good. I’dthought they meant something to him. I’d thought I meant something to him.
I’d been a fool.
I cried for a bit longer, and I basked in the warmth of Wilder’s arms. When I was done, he gently maneuvered me so my head was in his lap, his arms still on me, and he gently caressed my hair. It was soothing, and I really didn’t want to sit up and face the man. The embarrassment didn’t last, though, because a wave of exhaustion overtook me.
I closed my eyes and gave in to the urge to sleep.
When I woke up, the cabin was brightly lit by the sun, and I was still snuggled on Wilder’s lap. He pressed his arm against me, almost as if he knew I was awake and he was reassuring me.
I still felt kind of stupid, though.
I sat up, avoiding glancing at the man. “Um, thank you. I’m sorry. I must have disturbed your morning walk.”
He waited, and finally I looked at him. His gaze was soft and affectionate, and he was smiling at me. “Josh, you could never disturb me.”
I blushed, and I got off the couch, starting to babble. “I have to get in to work. Well, not that I have to get in to work, because I could work from home, but I think it would be good if I went to work, because I think I’ve kind of been hiding out, which is okay I guess, but I’m ready to get back to the real world. So, yeah, umm… thank you. And sorry. And thank you for… everything.”
I kind of wanted to thank him for the Lego sets, but I wasn’t actually sure it was him, and what if it was Toby or Aiden or Q and I thanked him and he had no idea what I was talking about? I would feel really stupid then. And wasn’t it more likely that it was Toby or Aiden? Just because Wilder had gotten me sets once didn’t mean hewas going to keep on giving me gifts. I felt kind of dumb for even assuming that.
“Can I bring you some breakfast?” Wilder asked.
I looked at the clock in the kitchen. Shit. It was almost eight in the morning, and I liked to be into work by nine. “I have to shower and get ready if I want to be on time. Not that Barb will care if I’m late, but I like to be in by nine.”
“Ok. I’ll grab some coffee and breakfast pastries from Aiden’s and drop them off while you’re getting ready,” Wilder said, and he got up.
I was still avoiding looking at the man, but he came over and wrapped me in his arms anyway, giving me another kiss on top of the head and squeezing me. I breathed in the scent that was Wilder, feeling his strong muscles holding me tight. I was torn between wanting to cuddle in and wanting to pull away, because if I cuddled in I might make a fool of myself. Again.
He seemed to sense my hesitance, because he let me go and headed toward the door. “I’ll leave food and coffee on the table if you’re in the shower. I’ll see you later, Mei Ume,” he said, and it sounded like a promise more than a parting comment.
With that, he went out the door, and I stood there for just a moment trying to gain my bearings.
What the hell was it with me and that man? He was old enough to be my dad. HewasDexter’s dad. He probably thought of me as a son. I was sure he was comforting me just like he would any of his kids.
I breathed out a sigh. Maybe if I kept telling myself that, I could squash the totally inappropriate attraction that was forming. Who was I kidding—that had already formed.
I went into the bedroom and gathered my clothes before heading to the bathroom to shower. My thoughts strayed to Wilder again while I was getting undressed. He was sexy; there was no denying it. It wasn’t just his physical appearance, although the entire Smithfamily seemed to have cornered the market on being insanely attractive and well-built.
Hewasgorgeous, but it wasn’t just that. He was kind and caring; he really listened to people. He was patient and understanding. Those were things that Rick had definitely not been.
And, yes, he was all muscles and strength, and the man even freaking smelled good. Rick and I had been fighting a lot for months, and it had been awhile since I’d had any sort of physical intimacy. I tried to think back to when I’d last had sex…
I soaped up and shampooed my hair, my mind searching. I thought it had been a quick blow job I’d given Rick where I’d then jerked myself off afterwards. It had probably been two months ago, at least. When Rick finished, he had little interest in my pleasure. I mean, he’d explained to me many times that after he came he just wasn’t in the mood anymore, and that was okay, but sometimes it left me feeling disappointed. But if I said anything then I was selfish, and… yeah, I guess that’s why our sex life had dwindled. I’d gotten sick of quickies where I got Rick off and took care of myself, and he was always complaining how he was just too tired after work to put in effort for some ‘big sex session.’ He preferred blow jobs, and I loved giving them, but I also liked to be touched or talked to orsomething, and it seemed like that had dwindled in recent months.
I snorted as I rinsed off. I was so much better without him. I realized as I had the thought that it was true, not just something I was telling myself.
