Reaper's Legacy (Reapers MC, #2)(55)

“You really want me to answer your question?” Ruger asked, his voice low and matter-of-fact. “Or you want to leave the party while you still can?”

I should leave.

I knew that. But his cock was already hard against me and every bit of blood in my body raced downward, away from my brain. Self-preservation gave way to raw lust.

“I want the answer,” I whispered. Ruger smiled, and it wasn’t a nice smile. It was hungry as hell and utterly merciless, just like him.

“I’m jealous as f*ck,” he said, his voice rough. “That’s not really my thing, but it’s the truth. I don’t much like the idea of some other man touchin’ your sweet ass, and if one of them tries to stick his cock into that pretty little cunt of yours, I’m gonna cut it off. And, Soph?”

I caught my breath.

“Yes?” I answered, a thousand thoughts running through my brain. How did I feel about this? What should I say? The girls told me to lay down the law and stick to my guns. The look in Ruger’s eyes, though … That wasn’t the face of a man who was interested in respecting my limits.

Who was I kidding? I couldn’t even remember what those limits were supposed to be right now.

“I’m dead serious,” he continued, leaning his head down, scenting me. I felt it like a bolt of electricity, all the way through my body, right down to my toes. “Another man touches you, I’ll cut off his cock and feed it to him. That’s not a threat, that’s a promise. And you f*ck someone? He’s dead, Soph. Four years ago I made two serious mistakes. I didn’t protect you from Zach—I’ll regret that every day for the rest of my life. And then, because I felt guilty as f*ck, I did the right thing and let you go.”

I closed my eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“News flash, Soph,” he whispered. “It’s about f*ckin’ time we talked about it, because it’s hanging between us and I’m tired of pretending it didn’t happen.”

I started squirming, trying to twist free. Everything in me screamed to run, because he was about to take us to the bad place.

“Stop,” Ruger ordered, his voice harsh. I kept squirming, so he pushed into me harder, forcing me to still. “We’re gonna deal with it, Soph. Deal and move on, because things are gonna change for you now. My mistake wasn’t touching you that night, and it sure as shit wasn’t making you come. The mistake was doing it without taking out Zach first. If I’d known … why didn’t you tell me?”

“I really, really don’t want to talk about this,” I hissed, trying to ignore his soft breath in my ear, the hard length of his cock pushing against me. My nipples were tight and my entire body screamed for me to open to him, but deep inside my brain lurked a cloud of darkness and fear that threatened to tear free with every word.

“I should’ve killed him for what he did to you,” Ruger said, eyes full of frustrated regret. “But then he was in jail and I didn’t want to do that to Mom, so I let him live. You left and I’ve hated myself ever since. I can’t go back in time, but I sure as f*ck won’t make the same mistake twice. This time you’re not gettin’ away, Soph.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my hormones enough to think. Then it hit me. I should tell him the truth. If that wasn’t enough to convince him this was a lost cause, nothing would.

“It’s my fault,” I said, the familiar wave of self-disgust washing over me.

“Honey, Zach beatin’ the shit out of you was not your fault,” Ruger said, his voice like ice.

“No,” I said, looking him right in the eye. “It was my fault, Ruger. I planned it. When you starting kissing me—touching me—I knew Zach was coming over. He’d texted me, wanted to make sure I had food ready when he got there. I knew he’d catch us. He was so jealous of you, Ruger. Drove him crazy. I knew if he caught us together, he’d lose it. I wanted him to hit me hard, because then I could make it end.”

Ruger inhaled sharply.

“What the f*ck are you talking about?”

“Zach had to leave bruises,” I whispered. “I was so scared all the time, Ruger. I never knew what he’d do. Some days he was great and things were fine, like they were before Noah. Then I’d drop my guard and he’d turn on me. I tried calling the cops, but he never left marks, so they wouldn’t do anything. He told me he’d kill me if I left him.”

Ruger took a deep, ragged breath and his eyes went dark.

“When you came over that day, I saw my chance,” I admitted, disgusted with myself. “This tension—lust, whatever the hell you want to call it—it was between us by then. I felt it every time I saw you. And you were so good with Noah, always coming around, fixing my car or mowing the yard for us. I’d bring you a drink and you’d look at me like you wanted to throw me down on the ground and f*ck me until I screamed. You know what? I wanted you to do it. So I let it happen.”

Ruger gave a dark, harsh laugh that had nothing to do with humor.

“Yeah, babe, I remember that part,” he said. “Although we never did get to my happy ending, what with Zach comin’ home. You seriously telling me that was planned?”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. “I knew seeing us together would drive him crazy. I knew he’d lose it. Noah was safe at your mom’s house. So I let him catch us and have his little pissing match with you. He took off, you took off, and I waited for him to come back and punish me, like always. But this time he was finally worked up enough to leave evidence—I made damned sure of it. I told him how much better you were than him. I told him I’d been f*cking you all along. For a while I thought he might kill me, and you know what? It would’ve been worth it, just to make it end. You know the rest. He got arrested, I got my restraining order, and me and Noah were finally free.”