Chapter Three
Blake wasn’t going to jump her next time she came over. At the very least, it was sexual harassment, what he had done. His mind had even drifted to worse these past few days. What if she hadn’t wanted it? What if she’d felt that she couldn’t say no? It would have been practically rape.
Either way, he should be arrested. Beaten. Someone should kick his ass for taking advantage of her. It was too damned bad that Erin didn’t have anyone to beat the shit out of him. No father, no brothers, no punk-ass college boyfriend, either. She was vulnerable, and he’d been the worst kind of bastard.
When she came in the front door, she called out like she always did. “Mr. Morris, it’s Erin.”
His pulse jumped at her voice. His cock hardened. God, no.
He couldn’t do this. Bad enough she knew he was a dirty old man, taking advantage, lusting after her. Worse that he’d used her own desperation, her need to work to pay for her college, as a tether to keep her near him. He couldn’t also take her body, her innocence.
For she was innocent. Oh, she’d had sex before. And Christ, she’d sucked his dick like he’d never experienced it. Not even before his injuries had he gotten it so good. But her brown eyes were so open, so trusting. Her body was lithe and smooth and young. He didn’t deserve any of it.
There it was, entering the kitchen. That incredible body and beautiful mind.
“Erin,” he said. “We have to talk.”
She picked up on his tone correctly, setting her face into solemn lines, but then she’d always been bright. She walked to him, keeping her eyes trained to his. Probably she was worried he’d touch her again, put his filthy hands on her body and his ugly face near hers. And why shouldn’t she be? He was an animal.
“I’m afraid this isn’t going to work,” he said. “You can’t work here anymore.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding calm. But her hands trembled. And when she saw that he’d noticed, she clamped them together. She wasn’t one to show her weakness, and he hated that he’d made her weak.
“You understand, this isn’t any fault of yours,” he said. “You’ve done a great job. I’ve never had such a clean house. It’s just…well, I’m sure you realize the problem. It can’t happen again.”
“Right,” she said in that same neutral tone. “I understand.”
He didn’t want to hurt her, but he could see that he had. He’d thought maybe she’d be a little disappointed, since he liked to think they’d had a friendship. Or maybe she’d be relieved that she could get away from the lecher without him making a fuss. That would have been bad, but this was far worse.
But he knew what it was. “I realize you rely on this job for college. I don’t intend to ruin that for you. I can give you some money. The same amount you would have made it you’d kept working here.”
Her facade cracked. So did her voice. “You want to pay me?”
“Well, yes,” he said, genuinely confused by her distress. He’d done her wrong, by having sex with her. He’d pay the price, all right, not getting to see her again. But the least he could do was leave her whole, and that meant paying her the wages she would have earned.
She stood. Her lower lip trembled, but her eyes flashed with anger. “You can keep your goddamn money.”
“Erin, I don’t understand—”
“You don’t understand? I’ll explain it to you. I know I’m just some stupid college kid and you don’t really care. I can accept that. I’m just a maid to you, and a girl you can fuck, fine. But I am not a whore. You can’t have sex with me and then pay me to go away.”
He was shocked. “I didn’t mean it like that. Of course you’re not a whore.”
Her face crumpled at the last word. She turned and ran from the room. He caught up to her as she grabbed her purse from the hallway table, fumbling inside for her keys.
He stayed her arm. “Erin. Erin, please.”
She couldn’t see what she was doing through her tears, and she dropped the bag in frustration, but she refused to look up at him.
“Erin, I’m sorry,” he said. “I never should have touched you. You deserve so much better than—”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” she cried, finally turning up her tear stained cheeks to him. “You know I’d give anything to be with you. I’d take it any way you could give it to me, but not if you’re going to pay me for it. I can’t be a prostitute, even for you.”
“I don’t want that,” he said. “I want you, that’s all. I just can’t have you. You’re so beautiful, so young, and I—”
“Shhh,” she said. “That’s it. That’s all we need to say to each other. If you meant what you said, if you really want me, then that’s enough for me.”
“Well, it shouldn’t be,” he said, angry now. “You should have standards. You should—”
Then his voice strangled as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head.
Her sports bra was barely fabric at all, showing her tight nipples. Her abs sloped into wide hips, encased in tight black pants. His mouth went dry.
Warning bells clanged in his head. He’d said he wasn’t going to do this, wasn’t going to touch her, that he didn’t get to have her. But then she pulled off the bra, too, and his brain blissfully shut off.
He couldn’t help it. With a groan of resignation, of appreciation, he pulled her into his arms for a slow, languorous kiss. This was happening. Whatever came after would be on his head, but for now he had to taste her, to feel her beneath him, to pretend.
Beautiful, beautiful. He wanted to touch her in all those beautiful places, but that was everywhere. Her full lips, but no, that was for his mouth to explore. And those breasts, plump and tipped with bronze—they were for his mouth.
But lower was the soft, feminine curve of her stomach, all sleek lines and sloping shadows. And even lower, the satiny softness of her sex, but he couldn’t touch them all. Not at once, and that’s what his mind was consumed with, now, now. Touch her now, take her now. She’s mine now.
Too late, he noticed her hand pressing against his chest, stopping him. She wanted him to stop.
Yes, he would. Of course he would. He would never force himself on anyone, and especially not her. Not his ugly face or his too-old body.
But she wasn’t really stopping him, he saw. She took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom. Kicking off her pants, she crawled up onto the bed. Her legs were parted in that haphazard way of a woman. Sprawling in invitation but tilted closed with modesty.
Before he could process any reasons why he shouldn’t, he was naked on top of her. A crazed man. He licked and sucked and bit. She should stop him, the small rational part of his brain cried. But that was doused by her heat and his.
She gave it all back to him. Touching him, tasting him.
Her mouth worked its way down and he wanted that—God, did he. But he also didn’t think he could last. He knew he couldn’t, so he stopped her.
“Baby,” he said, and she stopped and looked at him. He nudged her shoulder, not able to get out more words than just that. Baby. She was his.
* * *
At his urging, Erin rolled to her hands and knees. Yes. This way, that way. The position didn’t matter, so long as he got inside her, in her mouth or somewhere. She was frantic with it, with the need to hold him in her body.
The sharp tear of the wrapper, a short pause and then he was in. His cock thrust into her from behind. His thick body covered her back while his mouth whispered in her ear.
“Baby, you’re so hot. Do you know how much I want you? All I can think about. You make me stupid. Mine, mine.”
It felt good. It did. But…she thought back to the first time and what he had said.
You don’t have to look.
Is that what he was doing? Making it so she didn’t have to see him?
And she wanted to see him. More than that, she didn’t want him to think she didn’t.
She started to turn, but he put a strong hand on her back.
“Not good?” he panted.
She could feel him changing the angle and—ahh!—yes, that was better. That wasn’t the point though. That wasn’t the problem.
She jerked away so he had no choice but to let her go or restrain her. He let her go. He always would, she knew that. He would always be gentle with her. Without giving him a chance to think, to pull away, she flipped over, spread her legs and guided his cock inside her. His eyes widened, as if he might protest, but then they slid shut.
He moaned, long and low. “So good. Mine.”
She wanted to smile at that—she loved when he said that. She never wanted him to stop saying it, but she couldn’t smile at all. Not when the pressure, the tension, the joy of it was building, higher and higher. She could hardly breathe, much less smile, and then she’d reached the top. She came with a strangled cry and he followed after, pumping into her and carrying her orgasm until she was wrung out.
“Erin,” he mumbled into her hair, “Don’t leave. Don’t ever leave… love you.”
He froze. She could almost hear him thinking—first replaying what he’d just said and then searching for something to say.
She cupped his cheek in her hand. It was the one that fit her free hand, but it happened to be the damaged one, the scarred one, and she stroked her thumb over the too-smooth, discolored skin.
“Love you, too,” she whispered.
He groaned and shut his eyes, turning his face into her touch.