Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(61)

“Fuck,” he growled, moving slowly in and out of me. “Fuckin’ angel wings are hot as f*ck, baby.”

I smiled against the pillow. My angel wings were my newest tattoo, taking up almost my entire back. It had taken eight separate sittings, but the heavily detailed and beautifully done wings, with tips that curled around my waist, ending at my belly button, were worth it. I absolutely loved them.

“Harder, Z,” I whimpered, writhing under him.

His hips slammed into mine, over and over again, harder and harder but…

It was never enough. Sex with ZZ was always good, but something was missing. And no matter what I did to fill the hole, nothing worked. Most times, I didn’t finish.

“Stop,” I said, getting to my knees, pulling away from him. I scooted down on the bed on my back and held my arms out for him. Grinning, he covered my body with his and pushed back inside of me, groaning heavily.

“Go slow,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his backside, holding him close.

I kept my eyes tightly closed as ZZ began his slow, leisurely thrusts, picturing a different man in my arms, moving inside of me, loving me.

But no matter how hard I tried to pretend, reality always ended up winning.

Ripper was gone.

Pulling out of me, ZZ rolled onto his side. “Fuck, that was good. Love you, baby.”

“Love you too,” I whispered, brushing my lips across his shoulder. “Gonna go get something to drink, you want?”

He didn’t answer me. He was snoring, already sound asleep with the condom still on. Rolling my eyes, I crawled over him and hopped out of bed, headed for the bathroom to clean up.

After filling up an empty glass with tap water, I leaned against his bathroom doorway and studied him.

I’d never had any intention of being with another man ever again, and after my embarrassing incident with ZZ, I’d certainly never expected to end up with him. I’m still not even sure how it happened. He just sort of started integrating himself into my life. Watching television with me, eating meals with me, finding excuses to talk to me about pointless, random things, things I’d known he wasn’t interested in and to be honest, neither was I. Not anymore. In fact, I’d had little interest in much aside from sleeping, eating, and of course, breathing. That was an important one.

Then one day, in the middle of a particularly gruesome horror movie, he kissed me. It was an awful kiss; foreign lips and a taste I didn’t recognize, belonging to a mouth I didn’t love. After several emotionally brutal seconds, I had to pull away. But ZZ wouldn’t let me go.

“I wanna be your man,” he whispered.

Fighting tears, I looked down at my hands.

My man. He couldn’t be my man, no one could.

I’d already had my man…

And lost him.

There would be no one else. It was a fact I could feel deep within me, one that made my body ache in remembrance.

“Already talked to your old man, Danny.”

Surprised, I glanced up at him and noticed for the first time his black eye and a rather large gash on his cheek. Always so consumed by my thoughts, I’d somehow looked over the fact that ZZ had been badly beaten.

“Oh my god,” I whispered. “He did this to you?”

ZZ laughed. “I’m fine, baby. It’s worth it, anyway, if it means I’m gonna get what I want.”

Me. He wanted me. He’d taken a beating just for the opportunity to ask me out.

Ripper hadn’t…

Ripper hadn’t ever wanted to tell my father.

“Kiss me again,” I said hoarsely as my tears blossomed. And he did.

It was still awful. And wrong. But instead of stopping, I kissed him harder, I held him tighter, I encouraged him to touch me roughly.

I continued to torture my already broken heart; I made it hurt, more and more, until I didn’t think I could bear the pain for one more second.

And then he was inside of me.

Like a bullet cracking out of its chamber, in an instant, the pain was gone.

In its place…a quiet numbness.

We’d been together ever since.

Did I love him?

I did love him, like I loved…my brother.

It wasn’t his fault. He was a good man, kind and generous, and he truly cared for me. But no matter how much time passed, every time I climbed onto the back of his bike and put my arms around his middle…

It felt wrong.

He wasn’t Ripper.

Turning away with a sigh, I grabbed a pair of ZZ’s sweatpants and shoved into them, tying them tightly. Searching through the bedding, I found my black camisole and slipped it over my head. Grabbing ZZ’s cigarettes, I lit one, shoved the pack in my waistband, snatched my keys off the dresser, and headed for the door.

Noise greeted me in the hallway, a mixture of happy shouts and clinking glass.

Knowing the boys and their exorbitant capacity for alcohol, I figured the wedding celebration had begun a day early.

Halfway down the back hall, I stopped, checked right, then left, making sure I was alone before unlocking Ripper’s door and slipping quietly inside. After locking the door behind me, I tossed my keys and smokes on his unmade bed, flipped the lights on, and headed for his bathroom.

Three more drags and my cigarette was shot and flushed down the toilet. I undressed quickly, started the shower, and stepped inside, sighing happily under the stream of hot water.