Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(21)
Everything hit him at once: the little girl he’d met in the family visiting room at Rikers, singing Janis, wearing Chucks, stealing what was left of his broken-down, battered heart. And when she was older, listening to her ramble on about Halloween costumes, thinking no kid as sweet as she was should be living in this life, and wanting better for her. After that the memories changed, as had his feelings for her. Fondness and adoration turned to lust and he’d taken that first kiss, that first taste and touch. Two years later, lust turned to need and he took that * first too. Four years passed, and he claimed not just her body but her. Because need had turned to love.
He had her now, he owned her—her body, her baby, her future—it was all his and knowing that, having that, had made every chance meeting over the years, every f*ck, every fight, every letdown…
It had made it worth it.
Deuce was rock hard by the time she’d finished dressing. Hard and aching for her.
She took one look at him and knew, she always knew. Those damn beautiful eyes traveled down his body, flaring with heat when she came to his hips. Those juicy lips parted, sucking in a sharp breath, a sound he knew very well. A sound that made him crazy.
“I miss you,” she whispered.
“Babe,” he said quietly. “Yeah.”
She took a small step forward, then stopped. “Can…can I touch you?”
He didn’t like this version of Eva, this timid, unsure woman who was nothing like the quirky, outgoing kid she’d been, or the teenager who didn’t give a f*ck about what other people thought, or the young woman who’d refused to take shit from him or anyone else.
But now, that kid, that teenager, that young woman…they were gone.
He couldn’t fault Frankie for this, or the life. This shit was his fault. True, the life had taken its toll on her and Frankie had beat her down, pounded on her something fierce, but she’d persevered through it all.
It had been him, by refusing to let it go, refusing to love her the way a man should, who’d thrown the killing blow.
Deuce could fix it, he knew he could. He could bring the woman he loved back to life. He held that precious power in his hands.
He wanted to fix it.
“Come here, darlin’,” he said hoarsely. All of a second passed before Eva was in his arms and he was carrying her across the room and dropping her on their bed and her hands were in his hair and her mouth…
“This is my f*ckin’ mouth,” he growled, kissing her roughly. He tore at her clothes, stripping her violently, grabbing her breasts, telling her over and over again that every part of her was his. Had always been his.
Fuck, he needed her, he needed to be inside of her again. He freed himself and pushed against her; she was ready for him, wet and whimpering, needing him just as badly.
It had been so long since he’d been inside of her, since he’d been able to take what was his, it had been since…
Her breath caught, her eyes rolled back even as tears streamed down her face. Her legs quaking, she went face first into the pillow, crying out softly through her orgasm. Frankie followed her down, groaning loudly, his body jerking.
He fought against the memory, fought it with everything he had. Eva was his. She was motherf*cking his. Frankie was dead, gone, he couldn’t take her away from him anymore. She was his. She was his…
Then Frankie turned to him. And grinned.
He hadn’t f*cked her since before Frankie. Frankie had been the last man inside his woman. Grinning. That’s all he could see, was that f*cking * grinning.
“FUCK!” he roared, pushing off the bed and turning away.
“Wait,” she cried, reaching for him. “Baby, wa—”
Anger and pain had him slapping her hands off him. “Shut up,” he growled, yanking his jeans up. “Just shut the f*ck up.”
“Deuce—”
“No!” he bellowed. “You liked it, you f*ckin’ liked it! You got off on bein’ raped!”
Her fists came down on the mattress. “I loved him!” she screamed.
Rage bubbled up inside him. “You loved him? You loved a man who did nothin’ but hurt you? How long had he been hurtin’ you, Eva? You f*ckin’ tell me how long.”
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “He’s gone now.”
He stared down at her. “Gone?” he asked hoarsely. “He ain’t f*ckin’ gone. He’s still standin’ right between us, laughin’ his f*ckin’ ass off.”
In a flash she was off the bed and shoving at him. “Only because you’re letting him!” she screamed. “You’re not letting me fix it!”
Deuce grabbed her wrists and held her still. “Shoulda never been nothin’ to fix,” he growled. “Ten f*ckin’ years ago you showed up here wantin’ me and, bitch, you knew I wanted you, you knew you didn’t ever have to go back to that shit! It didn’t have to go down this way, Eva, ’cause you f*ckin’ had me, you always f*ckin’ had me!”
He shook her hard. “You tell me why I should f*ckin’ care ’bout you tryin’ to fix anything, when you spent your whole f*ckin’ life tryin’ to fix him and not us? Was it because you loved him more? Did you love that motherf*cker more than me?”