Limitless Love (Lotus House #4)(40)

No, no, no! Stay strong.

“Keep going. I need to know.” Clayton rubbed my scalp, and I listened to his heartbeat get stronger. He wasn’t unaffected, even though his attempt at being cool and calm was commendable.

I swallowed down the fear that had crept up my throat. “Said I couldn’t hide forever in this house.”

Clayton’s arms tightened almost painfully around my body.

“Do you believe what he said?”

For a couple minutes, I thought about everything. The cops were after him for attempted murder and wanted to question my half sister. Logic flew out the window as I spoke. “Clay, he did get to me. He almost killed me once. Who’s to say he won’t get me when I’m alone? Mila and Atlas can’t stay here forever. Eventually we all have to go back to work, live our lives. What then?”

Clayton pushed me to my good side and faced me on the bed. He lifted one of my legs and wrapped it around his waist so we were glued together. In another world during another time, I’d rejoice in the splendor that was being wrapped around this man. A man I’d lusted after for over a year.

His tone was adamant. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’ll make sure you’re covered at all times. One of the first things we need to do is call the police. Update the detectives on your case so they can find out where that call originated. If he’s close, they need to have units trolling.”

Tears slipped out of my eyes as I remembered all the horrible things Kyle had said.

“He told me I was a horrible wife.” A fresh bout of sadness struck.

Clayton cupped my cheek and waited until I’d opened my eyes to look at him. “I don’t believe that’s possible. I’ve been here every day for over a week, and I never want to leave. No man in his right mind could spend time with you, glory in your beauty every day, and not want to own it for himself. I’d be one lucky son of a bitch to have you forever.”

More tears spilled out. God, so many tears. For a long, long time, I let his words penetrate and cried into his chest. Cried for the injustice of it all. Cried for the pain my ex caused. For Lily. For the fact that Clayton deserved my best and was continually saving me.

Eventually, the tears subsided and I realized I was warm. So warm. Content to be held in this man’s arms as I let myself completely lose it. And he stayed. Held me through it all. Whispered his admiration for me, told me repeatedly how pretty, funny, and smart I was. How he loved my daughter and that I was an amazing mother. He did that for me.

Clayton’s lips pressed against my temple.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

I nodded against his chest, where I’d kept my ear to his heart. Its beat was melodic, calming, the best sound in the world. I’d fall asleep to it every night if I could.

Clayton groaned and stretched his limbs out. That’s when it dawned on me that I had moved my hand under his shirt, stroking his chest, running my fingertips in patterns across the ridges of his muscles. Each indentation was perfectly defined and fit each of my fingers as though I was drawing lines in the sand.

“I’m sorry.” I stopped moving my hand, leaving it flat against his abdomen.

He chuckled, the sound manly and sexy. “Don’t be sorry for putting your hands on me, beautiful. I love it.”

I nuzzled his chest, hiding my face. “I like your muscles. You’re warm and so…defined. Feels nice against my fingertips,” I admitted rather shyly.

He put a hand on my booty, reached down to cup the cheek, and squeezed. “And you’ve got a stellar ass. I’ve wanted to get my hands on it for a while. So how’s about we make a deal. You can run your fingers all over my chest and stomach if I can cop feels of this ass.” He squeezed the underside, nudging me closer to him. A burst of arousal rippled down to center hotly between my thighs. On instinct, I rubbed my thigh against his, putting my sex in contact with his muscular leg. A sizzle of excitement zipped through me, taking away every ounce of melancholy and fear I’d had an hour ago and replacing it with scorching-hard lust. This—being with this man, feeling alive inside—that’s what I needed. I was tired, so tired of being scared, of crying. I wanted to live. Feel alive.

“Mmm, I like when you rub along me like a content little kitty cat. You gonna purr for me?”

“Isn’t it your job to make me purr?” I said boldly, not believing the words as they left my mouth.

I chanced a glance up at Clayton and found his blue eyes dark and dangerous. He bit into his bottom lip.

“Mouth, up here. Now,” he growled.

I inched up and plastered my lips to his. One of his hands held the back of my head, controlling the kiss as he liked to do. He slid his other hand to the cheek of my ass and lifted, shifting me fully on top of him. Boldly, Clayton ran his hand down the center of my body and cupped my sex from behind. I moaned into his mouth, pleasure replacing the hate and horror of what happened earlier. I responded to his touch by delving my tongue deep inside his mouth. With my good arm, I held myself so that I could rub my lower half against him.

“Are we doing this?” I whispered into his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip, showing with my actions that I wanted to.

He nudged my head up and sucked his favorite spot on the side of my neck. “No. Just taking the edge off.”

I hummed and rubbed my pelvis against his. The steel length of his erection slid perfectly against the tender bundle of nerves seeking friction.