Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(52)

She sat up, crossing her legs and facing him. “I don’t understand, Show.”

He scoffed. “Now you want me to tell you something else. You won’t tell me jack shit.”

“That’s not fair. I’ve told you lots—about my town, my childhood, my family—”

He cut her off with a sharp wave of his hand. “No, you told me not to ask about your family. And I’m not. But I don’t like you pushing, then. I’m feeling like I got the short side of the deal, laying shit out for you while you sit there with your mouth shut.”

“There’s nothing to know. There’s just stuff I don’t talk about. Ever. But my stuff isn’t in our way. It’s not, I promise. This—whatever it is—is in our way now.”

“Only ‘cuz you’re pushing. I could have had you singing a f*cking aria by now if you had just let it be.”

His blue eyes blazed at her. He was really angry.

This night was just bizarre. It was too soon for everything between them to be so off-kilter. And it was her fault. She knew it, but she didn’t know how to fix it. She scooted off the bed and picked her black velvet robe off the chair nearby.

“I’m going to go get that drink.”

He didn’t respond in any way.

She went out to the kitchen and poured herself vodka with ice and a twist in one of her crystal glasses.

Shannon liked nice things, and she’d achieved enough success to warrant indulgence in things like silk lingerie and cut-crystal glassware for everyday. The Jack bottle was sitting there, an identical glass next to it.

She thought about pouring Show a drink as a peace offering, but the angry look he’d turned on her when she left the room discouraged her from the attempt. Instead, she took her drink and went into the dark sitting room. She needed to think.

Her drink was empty and the ice melting when Show came in and sat down next to her, dressed only in his jeans. He stared at the floor between his feet. And then he talked.

“After Iris was born, Holly and I had sex when the baby was about two months old. You have to wait awhile after a baby, so mama can get healed up. But it hurt her—so bad she was hysterical. She has some kind of condition, came on with that last birth, I guess. I don’t remember the name. Starts with a ‘V.’ Doctor told her there wasn’t much to do about it. That’s the last time we ever had sex.”

Shannon turned to face him on the sofa, bringing her leg up and folding it under her. He glanced up.

“Iris is nine.”

“God.” She didn’t know what else to say. He could not possibly be telling her that he he’d gone without sex for nine years. That was insane. So was he saying that he cheated? It had to be that.

Looking back at the floor, he said, “That was hard. I guess that’s when things started really going sour for us. A few years back, when we weren’t even sleeping in the same bed anymore, she told me she wouldn’t care if I got head at the clubhouse.” He laughed. “Strange to say it hurt my feelings, her giving me permission like that. But eventually I did it. Gets to be where any touch will do, I guess. By the end, I guess I was getting it a couple times a month. Always felt like shit about it. I don’t know why. Holly didn’t care— it wasn’t one of those things you women do, where you say something’s okay when it in truth it could not be less okay. She honest to God did not care. Still felt like shit.”

Sighing heavily, he rested against the back of the sofa. “Anyway. Until you and I were…together, I didn’t know it, but those bad feelings are all wrapped up in me still. I don’t want to see you bobbing on my dick like a club whore.”

The harshness of his last words felt like a slap to Shannon, but she knew he didn’t mean them to hurt her. In a way, he meant them to honor her. This man seemed to have nearly infinite patience. It boggled her mind. “I can’t believe you stood for all that. I can’t believe you stayed.”

He shrugged. “I made a promise. The vows don’t say ‘in sickness and in health or until she won’t f*ck you’.”

“You are unlike anyone I’ve ever known.” Making a quick, sure decision, she shifted and straddled him.

“How about like this? Is this okay?” She opened the belt on her robe and let it fall open, exposing her body to him. Even in the dark room, with only the light from the kitchen glowing in, she saw the heat flare in his eyes.

“Oh, yeah.” He reached between them and opened his jeans, pulling his cock out with one hand, sliding the other arm under her ass to lift so he could position himself.

When she felt him pushing inside her, she took over, seating herself hard on him, so that he penetrated her fully and quickly. They both groaned at that, and Show muttered, “Fuck, yeah” and grabbed her hips.

She shrugged her robe off her shoulders and let it drop so she was fully naked, feeling the rough denim and metal of his jeans against her thighs and all the way to her folds. He bent his head to capture a nipple and suckle her, and she leaned back, arching, exposing herself even more to him. The move changed the angle of his penetration, pushing him hard against the most sensitive spot inside her, and, moaning, she flexed forcefully, as fast as she could, trying to make it so he stayed right on that spot.

He laughed against her nipple. “That good right there, hon?”