Colters' Gift (Colters' Legacy #5)(22)

He hushed her with a deep, hungry kiss. His mouth covered hers and for a long moment, there was complete silence. Only the light sounds of his tongue, moving hot over hers. The harsh exhalation of breaths. And then he pulled away, his chest heaving audibly.

He didn’t issue a response. Didn’t say a single thing. He simply rose and then lifted her into his arms. Then he maneuvered his way onto the bed and settled her in the crook of his arm between him and the wall. They were both on their sides, pressed tight against each other. She wondered if he had any room or if he was on the very edge of the bed.

And then she realized she didn’t care. She was in his arms.

Nothing had ever felt so right. So perfect.

Peace settled over her as he cuddled her closer, fitting their bodies together. He reached down to pull the covers over the both of them, and then he hooked one leg over hers.

He was just wearing boxers. And she could feel his erection against her leg. She should feel trapped. He was wrapped completely around her. But what she felt was safe.

“Better?” he asked.

“Better,” she agreed, nuzzling closer still.

She could smell him, loved the sensation of his chest against her chin and lips. She inserted her hand between them and smoothed from his belly upward to his chest and then upward over his shoulder.

His muscles quivered and jumped beneath her touch. She just wanted to soak him in. Savor this moment and the closeness between them.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, and then he slipped his hand underneath the hem of her pajama top and slid his palm over her bare back.

She shivered in reaction and closed her eyes. She was very nearly lulled to sleep when his chest rumbled and his words broke the silence.

“Lauren, how badly did he hurt you?” he asked softly.

She stiffened but he kept rubbing her back and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“He can’t hurt you, baby. You’re here with me, in my arms. I’m wrapped around you, and to get to you, someone has to go through me. I’m a mean son of a bitch when I’m riled. No one’s going to f**k with me.”

“Why is it important to know?” she asked, her throat closing in as she remembered that last night when her world had been shattered. Her faith. Her belief in Joel. He’d become real to her then. No longer a fantasy she’d created in her denial. He’d hurt her. But sometimes she wondered if he hadn’t done her a favor by losing control. If he hadn’t would she still be under his thumb? Would she still be trying to please him by losing more of herself every single day?

“Because you’ve never told anyone. Or at least you didn’t tell Max and you didn’t tell me or Noah. You were vague and let the bruises do most of the talking for you. You let us draw our own conclusions about what happened, but you’ve never talked about it.”

“H-he snapped,” she said falteringly. “To this day I can’t remember what made him lose his temper. He came home in a mood. I knew it and I tried my best to fade into the background. Become invisible. I knew he wouldn’t want me in the way. I remember going into the kitchen. I was nervous and scared and I kept thinking, this is wrong. This is so wrong. Why am I with a man who terrifies me? Why am I tiptoeing around? I dropped a glass and I panicked. Had he heard it? I got the broom and a dustpan but when I turned around to clean it up, he was there.”

She was shaking against Liam. Cold. She no longer felt warm and safe. She was back in that cold, sterile environment that had suddenly erupted in violence.

“He dragged me into the bedroom, shoved me face down on the bed. I remember his hand in my hair and his knee in my back and the sound of his zipper.”

“Oh God, baby,” Liam said as he hugged her tighter to him.

“I always wore dresses or skirts. He liked thin, feminine material. He liked easy access. He shoved up my dress, yanked my underwear down, and then he was on top of me. I-inside me. Oh God, I hated it, Liam. I hated him.”

Liam rocked her back and forth, his body so rigid that there was absolutely no give in him.

“That son of a bitch.”

Lauren yanked away from Liam and scrambled up as she heard Noah’s explosive outburst from the doorway of the bedroom.

“Goddamn it, Noah!” Liam bit out. “You scared her to death. What the f**k, man?”

“Is it all right if I turn on the bathroom light, Lauren?” Noah asked, his voice still tight.

“Y-yes,” she stammered out.

A moment later, light poured into the bedroom, illuminating the bed where Liam lay and she sat, her knees hunched to her chest and her back against the wall.

She glanced warily at Noah, who stood at the end of the bed. Her bedroom was getting crowded with three people. It was hard to breathe. Her chest felt tight and constricted.

Liam pushed himself upward into a sitting position, and it was then she saw the tattoos that swirled over his shoulders and to his chest. She’d been right. He had more than just the ones on his arms.

“Lauren?” Noah asked softly.

She glanced back up at him.

He sat on the very end of the bed, and she wondered if the bed would bear up under the weight of all three of them.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

She flew into his arms and wrapped hers around his neck. He held her tightly for what seemed like forever. Just holding her. He buried his face in her hair and smoothed his hand up and down her back much like Liam had done.