Forever with Me (With Me in Seattle, #8)(37)

I rub my hands up her calves, massaging the muscles in her slender legs and concentrate on keeping my breathing even and face calm.

“From the time I was old enough to eat by myself, my mom would fix me a plate and set me up in front of the television to eat, so she and dad could eat together in the kitchen. That was their time. It still is.” She shrugs her shoulders, making her nipples surface above the water line and pucker from the cold air. Her cheeks are flushed pink from the warmth of the water. She’s pink everywhere.

Gorgeous.

“They kept me busy in school,” she continues. Her voice is perfectly calm. There’s no anger, no sadness. Just composure. “I also play the piano. I had lessons twice a week from the time I was four until I graduated from high school. Then, when I wasn’t involved with piano, they had me in soccer, basketball, and softball.”

She cringes and then laughs. “I f*cking hate to run.”

“You hate to run?” I ask with a smile.

“I do. I hate it. And they always signed me up for things that involved running. I asked if I could do cheerleading or anything else, but those sports were on a regular rotation, so I was always doing something after school.” She sighs. “That’s probably why I don’t like to exercise much now and my ass is too big.”

“Your ass is not too big,” I reply calmly, but inside I want to beat the shit out of her parents. Who the f*ck treats their child like they’re an imposition? “Besides, you run around plenty for your job. In heels, no less.” I drag my thumb along her arch, earning a groan from her.

“I’m used to the heels,” she replies and smiles at me, then leans her head back again and continues her story. “So, I was in school all day, practicing something each afternoon, then doing school work until bedtime each day.”

“Surely your parents attended your games. Your recitals?”

“No, those were their date nights,” she replies quietly. “I don’t recall them ever going to an event.”

My hands still on her foot, and tighten just a bit as pure rage seers through me. Alecia’s head comes up and she frowns at me. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head and resume rubbing her foot. “Nothing. Go on.”

Her eyes narrow on mine for a moment, then she shrugs and leans her head back again. “You’ve got good hands.”

“You’ve got good feet,” I reply, waiting her out.

“So, when I was a senior in high school, I met Jonathan. He was…attentive.”

“Attentive?” I ask.

“He paid attention to me. I was always kind of shy. I didn’t make a lot of friends, mostly because I was always too busy to spend time with them after school. But Jonathan paid attention. He was also a senior. He used to say he liked the looks of me.” She giggles.

“Why wouldn’t he like the looks of you?”

“It was the turn of phrase that made me laugh. He could be charming. And he was interested in me.”

And you soaked that up like a sponge in the ocean, fiorellino.

“My parents happily sent me off to college. They didn’t care which one, as long as I went away.”


How in the f*cking hell can she be so calm? My heart is aching for her, and she’s as cool as can be. I continue to rub her, sure to be quiet, so I don’t spook her. I have a feeling at this point she’s just relaxed and talking on autopilot.

“So, Jonathan and I went to the same college, and eloped to Vegas our junior year.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “I thought he was the sexiest, funniest person in the world. I was a stupid, young girl.”

“How long did it last?” I ask quietly.

“Longer than it ever should have,” she replies with a sigh. “Jonathan made it clear from early in the relationship that I was a huge disappointment.”

I can’t take it anymore. I grip her foot tightly and pull her toward me, turn her around, and settle her between my legs, wrap my arms around her and plant my lips on her head.

“Go on.”

“Are you okay?” she asks with surprise.

“I am now.” No, I’m not f*cking okay. I have to take another deep breath, inhaling in the sweet scent of her, feel her against me, warm and strong and whole, to calm myself. “How did he make you feel like you were a disappointment?” My voice is deceptively calm.

“I was a disappointment, Dom.”

“Why?”

She shrugs and laces her fingers through mine, then hugs our hands to her chest.

“I didn’t like the same things that he did.” She falls silent for a minute, and then swears ripely, surprising the hell out of me. “He liked to go to sex clubs, shows, places where clothing was optional. I didn’t feel comfortable going to those places.”

“Okay.” I’m clearly missing something.

“No, not okay.” She kisses my fingers. “He wanted me to wear skimpy clothes that I wasn’t comfortable in. I know I’m not horrible on the eyes, but I do have curves, and I don’t feel that it’s appropriate to walk around half naked in front of people I don’t know. Hell, I don’t particularly like walking around half naked in front of people I do know.” She chuckles, but I don’t find it f*cking funny. “It would make him angry. He wouldn’t yell at me, though. No, he would just ignore me.”