Ruby

I followed Neco into his place and saw Jude had already dropped off my bags. They were just inside the door, and I inwardly cursed. Jude stopping by would have been a welcome break from all this tension. I’d been here before of course, but never past the kitchen/living room, and never on my own. The place was spacious, open, clean lines, no clutter, sturdy comfy couches, big screen TV, and not much else.

The door clicked shut behind me and I jumped.

“Bedroom’s down the hall.” He scooped up my bags and started in that direction.

“How many rooms?” I asked, following him.

“Two.” He carried on down to the one at the far end of the hall and used his boot to push the door open.

This was not the spare room. I knew as soon as I walked in. The bed was rumpled. There were boots in the corner, a pair of running shoes. Jeans and a shirt on the floor. Personal stuff on the dresser—deodorant, a watch, a stack of papers . . . a set of cuffs.

It smelled like Neco.

“This is your room,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

“It’s my room,” he said, confirming it in that growly voice. He was still angry.

“I’d rather take the spare room.” He shook his head once. “Okay, the couch.”

“No,” he said.

Now I was getting angry as well. “What do you mean, no?”

His nostrils flared. “For once in your life, can you do what you’re fucking told?”

“Do what I’m told?” I seethed, reaching for my bag, trying to take it from him.

He snatched it back and flung it to the other side of the room. “You sleep here.”

My head jerked back. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

This time his voice was so deep it was barely more than a rumble. Despite the violent rage rolling off him, I wasn’t scared of him, and I sure as hell wasn’t a fan of his heavy-handed, confusing-as-fuck behavior.

“This is ridiculous. I am not sleeping with you,” I fired at him.

“Yes. You are.”

“No. I’m goddamn not.” I stalked over and snatched my bag from the floor. “I know you’re pissed at me, okay! I get it, Neco. I’ve taken some wrong turns, screwed everything up, put you in this fucked-up position looking after me again. I know you probably want to strangle me. Hell, I know you hate me right now. But I can’t deal with your temper tantrum.” I pointed to the door. “I’m sleeping in the spare room. I promise I won’t run off and get into more trouble, or whatever you think I’ll do. But I don’t need a fucking babysitter day and night, understand?” I finished, throwing his favorite word back at him.

Those green eyes flashed, locking on me, and I almost took a step back. His hands went to his hips and he was breathing in hard, angry breaths. “Fuck, you’re clueless.”

“Wow. Nice.” My eyes started to sting and that pissed me the hell off. “So I’ve been told . . . quite a few times actually.”

Now it was his turn to flinch. “I didn’t mean it like that . . .”

I shook my head. “Fuck you, Neco. Fuck. You.” Then I stormed toward the door.

He stepped in front of it and kicked it shut.

I dropped my bag and shoved at his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled. “Is this fun for you, fucking with my head day in and day out? Is this how you get your fucking kicks?”

“Ruby,” he growled.

“Don’t ‘Ruby’ me.” I shoved him again. “You’ve got a goddamn screw loose! How many personalities do you actually have? No really, I want to know . . .”

“Calm your shit down. You’re still recovering.”

“Cut the crap, would you?” His hands were gripping my biceps and I tried to pull free, but he wouldn’t let me. “You’re a control freak and you’re trying to control me as well. I’m not your goddamn puppy. I won’t heal or sit or stay . . .” I shoved harder and he finally let me go. “I sure as fuck won’t obey. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. Why you do the shit you do. But listen up, what happened to me had nothing to do with you. This is my mess. This time, it doesn’t need to be you, okay? You don’t need to be the one on the white charger coming to my rescue. I don’t need to be rescued.” I took another step back. “I’m asking you to back off and let me . . .” Get over you. “Take care of this myself. Van said he’d put me up. I’m going to his place. I can’t . . .” Shit, my eyes started to sting again. “I’m not doing this with you anymore.”

“You finished?”

I stared at him, fury firing though me. If I was closer, I would have kicked him square in the nuts. Here I was pouring my damn heart out and he . . .

“Just shut up for five fucking seconds.”

I blinked up at him. “My God. You really are an utter, utter asshole . . .”

“Shut up,” he gritted out again and closed in, backing me up until I collided with the wall.

My hands lifted to his shoulders, and I tried to push him back. “Where the hell do you get—”

His mouth slammed down on mine, and I froze. I tried to shove at him again, but he pressed into me more firmly, didn’t let up, his lips sliding hungrily over mine, sucking, nipping . . . until I couldn’t think straight, until I forgot why I was resisting in the first place. All the anger I had burning inside me had shifted, transforming into pure, undiluted lust. His hands went to my ass and I wrapped my arms around his neck instantly, climbing his long, strong, beautiful body before he even had a chance to haul me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he growled into my mouth, earning a moan from me in reply. His full lips opened over mine, tongue delving deep, the scrape of his five o’clock shadow against my chin. God, the taste of him. I was lost, gone, and I knew there would be no recovering from this.

My nipples grazed his hard chest and I whimpered, one of my hands curling around the back of his neck, holding him to me, the other dropping to his ass. I tilted my hips forward, desperate for more. The hard, unyielding length of his cock ground into me with enough strength to hurt. A startled cry was forced from my lungs and I almost came.

His mouth moved along my jaw to my neck, sucking and nipping my sensitive skin.

“Jesus, Neco,” I croaked. “Please . . .”

A rumbling sound vibrated through his chest and he slammed into me harder. The deep bruises on my side protested and a cry escaped my lips before I could stop it.

He stilled suddenly, tearing his mouth from mine, barking out a curse. His head dropped to my shoulder, his panted breaths burning against my skin.

“Neco . . .”

“Fuck.” He lowered me suddenly, stepping back. His eyes were wild, angry. “Fuck,” he said again, louder, sharper than before, backing up. Rage rolled off him, so much so that I froze like a startled rabbit. That just seemed to make him angrier. “Goddammit. I need to . . .” he cursed again and yanked the door open beside me then stormed out of the room, slamming it shut behind him.

I stood there stunned, still staring at the door long after he’d stormed through it. My butt met the carpet a few seconds later. I drew up my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs, staring out the window on the other side of the room. Neco was a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel, not to me, never to me. But right then, I was having a hard time working out a motive for his behavior toward me. He was basically furious with me all the time. He’d kissed me, three times now. Something I’d wanted since I was old enough to know what a kiss was, a real kiss. But it was starting to feel like he was using it against me, to punish me when I got out of line. Like he was using my feelings for him, that obviously weren’t so secret, to control me.

After everything we’d been through, even after everything I’d done to get his attention, the mistakes I’d made, I never thought he’d treat me that way. A memory started playing like a movie in my head, before I had the strength to shove it away.

I ran across the road, wincing as stones dug into my bare feet, a kitchen knife gripped in my hand for protection. Climbing out the window was easier without shoes, and no way in hell was I using the front door, not again. I didn’t want Valery seeing the bruise that had come up almost instantly on my face after that guy had hit me. Right then, getting to Neco, talking to him, was more important than anything. It was 3 a.m. and still dark. I’d waited until the thumping beat of music from Tomas’s place stopped echoing down the street, until I knew the party was over. God, the way he’d gone after those guys. He’d beaten them half to death.

I couldn’t wait until morning to talk to him. The sick, queasy feeling in my belly wouldn’t go away, and I knew it wasn’t going to, not until he looked at me like he always did, like I was special, like I meant something to him. Not until I was sure he wasn’t mad at me for following him to that party.

I slowed down when I hit the driveway, being as quiet as I could so I didn’t wake his mom, and rounded Neco’s house. The lights were out, all except a dim light coming from his bedroom window. His lamp was going. He was still awake.

Suddenly, I was nervous. This was Neco, for God’s sake; I had no reason to be nervous. But I needed to tell him what I’d planned to when I went to that party, before everything had gone to hell. Yes, telling someone you loved them for the first time was a momentous thing, but once I said it, once he knew, he wouldn’t have to pretend anymore, that we were just friends, that he didn’t feel the same way.

Impulsively, I plucked a cherry blossom from the tree outside his bedroom and tucked it behind my ear then walked to his window, like I had a hundred times before, and lifted my fist to tap on the glass . . .

It froze midair then flew to cover my mouth.

I was going to be sick.

A girl was naked on Neco’s bed, her hands sliding up his arms to his shoulders. Her legs were spread, and Neco was pumping his hips between hers over and over again. I couldn’t move, watching as she curled her hands around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Neco pulled away and started thrusting into her faster.

I just stood there, unable to move as pain flowed through me, knocking the wind from my lungs. Neco’s face contorted, his muscular body straining as he slammed into her twice more. Then he groaned, and though I’d never done it, I’d seen people having sex, and I knew he was coming. Pleasure, pain transformed his face into an expression I’d never seen before. And I hated it, so much, that some girl, some nobody who could never mean to him what I did, got that, got something that I never would.

Chest rising and falling, Neco pulled out of her body and straightened . . .

A hot tear streaked down my cheek. I couldn’t hold it in any longer, and a sound, like a wounded animal, burst past my lips.

His head shot up and his eyes locked with mine through the window.

I spun and ran, as fast as I could. I didn’t go home. I kept running until my feet were bleeding, until the sun came up, until I couldn’t run anymore.

I shook off the memory.

Rubbing my hands over my face, I refused to break down, not here, not now, and not after what just happened. I sat there for the longest time, trying to decide what my next move would be, half expecting Neco to walk back in, to apologize, to say something. He didn’t.

Finally, I pulled out my phone and messaged Van. He’d offered his place, and right then, I didn’t know where else to go. I just knew I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t be around Neco and his anger. I definitely wouldn’t survive another one of his punishments. Van texted back almost instantly that he was on his way.

I stood slowly, my body so damn weary, achy, and gathered my bags, swinging them over my shoulder and opened the door. I found Neco in the living room. He had a desk set up in one corner. There were three large computer screens and other techy stuff that I had no idea what it was used for. Neco was on the phone. I didn’t know who he was talking to, but he wasn’t happy. Nothing new there. There was a laptop in front of him as well and he was staring at the screen. He ended the call, throwing his phone down. His body had gone rigid, fists on the desk, fingers curled so tight it looked painful.

I walked up behind him and dropped my bags. “Van’s on his way. I’m going to his place.” I didn’t want to know what had him pissed this time. I just wanted to get this over with and leave.

One of his hands went to the top of the laptop and he angled it to me, still not looking my way, eyes still locked on the screen. “He won’t get away with this, I promise you that.”

My eyes dropped to the image he’d been staring at and nausea curled in my belly. It was a video of my room. I was putting away my laundry. I watched myself move around then lie on my bed and pick up my book.

“Turn it off,” I rasped.

He slammed it shut and shot to his feet.

Shit. Knowing I’d been filmed, watched, was one thing, seeing it with my own eyes . . . I felt ill. The last person I wanted seeing the footage was Neco. I knew how he’d react—well, I thought I did . . .

God, he was so angry.

“I don’t want you to do anything crazy,” I murmured.

His eyes were shooting fire. “The minute he hurt you, put one mark on your skin, he fucked himself.” He stood, and reached out, taking my phone from me before I could stop him.

“What are you doing?”

He ignored me, tapped something out, and then flung my phone on the couch.

“What the hell, Neco?”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

“God, not this again.” I threw up my hands. “You don’t get to decide that. That’s not . . .”

“You said it doesn’t need to be me.” His chest was rising and falling fast, intense gaze burning into me.

“What?”

“You said . . . this time, it doesn’t need to be me.” He stabbed his thumb at his chest.

Then he was in front of me, so close his boots butted against mine.

“You ever thought, for one second, that maybe I want . . . no, that I fucking need to be that for you? That being the man you need when things get too much, or you’re scared, or, shit, just in the mood to be a fucking brat . . . doesn’t mean something to me?” He dipped his head lower. “That I’m the man you think of first, that I’ve always been that for you . . .” He closed in, backing me up against the couch. “It means fucking everything to me. Christ, Ruby, you mean everything to me.” He shook his head. “You’ve got some fucked-up idea in your head, and right now you think you know what’s going on in mine.”

He closed the remaining space between us, the length of him against the length of me. I tilted my head back, heat racing, palms sweating, throat like a damn desert.

“You don’t,” he said.

My mouth wouldn’t work; all I could do was stare at him, trying to understand what was going on here, trying to tell myself it wasn’t what I thought it was. That it couldn’t be what I thought it was.

“You want to know why I’m so angry? Why I’m this close to losing my fucking shit every minute of every day?” His hand curled around the side of my neck, thumb sliding along my jaw, back and forth, lifting goose bumps across my skin. Somehow, I managed to nod.

He dipped lower, so he was eye level with me. “Because you are mine, Ruby. You are mine and for the longest time I haven’t allowed myself to have you. I’m angry because some fucker put his hands on you, hurt you, scared you, and I wasn’t there to protect my woman. I’ve been fighting this thing between us, babe. I’ve been fighting it since you walked your sweet sixteen-year-old ass into that party, in that dress you bought with the birthday money I gave you, wanting more from me, and looking at me like I’d ended your world when I told you to leave. I knew what you wanted from me. I knew it then, but I was into some serious shit, bad shit, and that night, after what happened, as much as it killed me to do it, I did what I had to, what I’ve always done. I protected you.” He cupped my jaw, eyes locked with mine. “I protected you . . . from me.”

My breath was forced from my lungs on a shaky exhale past my lips, like I’d been punched in the chest. “That night, you wanted me to find you with that girl . . . didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Pain flashed through his eyes. “I needed you to give up on me. I was young and stupid, and so damn scared after what happened to you . . . because of me. So, I pushed you away the only way I knew how. Those guys were part of my world, and there were a fuck of a lot more like them. I didn’t see that changing.” He released a rough breath. “I’m not part of that world now. And you’re sure as fuck not a kid anymore.” His hand dropped to my ass and he lifted me, so my butt was on the back of the couch. “I was waiting until you were better, until your injuries had completely healed, but I don’t want to wait any longer. I’m done fighting. You understand what I’m saying, Ruby?”

I heard every one of his words. Every one. But I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing, what he was saying to me. So I shook my head. “No.” My fingers dug into his biceps, not sure if I wanted to shove him away or never let him go. “I don’t understand.”

He cupped the back of my head, sliding his cheek again mine, his five o’clock shadow lightly grazing my skin, lips pressing against my temple. “About time I showed you.”

Then he lifted me off the couch and strode down the hall, back the way I’d come.

To his bedroom.

He walked in and lowered me to the bed, coming down on top of me, this time carefully. His hand dropped, curling around my knee and he spread my legs, pulling the one in his hand up and around his waist.

His nose slid along mine, mouth a breath away. “You gettin’ it now?” he said, voice so rough the hair on the back of my neck lifted.

I blinked up at him. “I’m not sure I am,” I whispered.

The corners of his eyes crinkled and he chuckled low. I felt it. It vibrated right through me. “Cute as well as sexy,” he muttered.

I wasn’t trying to be cute, or sexy. I was too stunned to be anything.

He brushed his lips over mine, once, twice, then lifted his head, looking down at me. “How about now?”

The way he looked at me had my toes curling in my Doc Martens. He hid nothing from me, it was all there, everything he felt, everything he wanted. I was still too scared to believe it.

I shook my head.

His eyes drifted down to my lips, back up. “What will it take?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, and licking my suddenly dry lips, I forced words out of my mouth. “M-more . . . more kissing might help?”

“Yeah?”

I nodded.

He grinned, then slowly slid my glasses off, putting them on the bedside table, never taking his eyes off me once. I bit my lip and his gaze dropped to my mouth, a second before he pressed those full, soft lips of his against mine again. This kiss was nothing like the angry, punishing ones he’d given me before. This was sweet and slow and packed full of emotion that made my heart soar and ache all at once. One of his hands cupped the side of my face, the other still holding my leg high on his waist, then he tilted his head and parted his lips, sliding his tongue across mine. My mouth opened on a moan, and he delved deep. He kept the kiss slow, painfully slow, and the sensuality of it had my belly squirming and my heart racing.

Neco kissed me for the longest time, until I was dizzy, drugged from him. I never wanted to stop. I could feel the length of his hard cock between my legs, through his jeans. He didn’t grind against me, just held still, the hard, heavy weight giving me the pressure I needed while driving me wild for more, all at the same time.

Finally, he lifted his head, eyes dark and hungry locking with mine. “I want to fuck you, Ruby, so bad, baby. But you’re still bruised.” He smoothed the pad of his thumb across my cheek. “I won’t hurt you. I will never hurt you again.”

He wasn’t just talking about the bruises on my body, and I bit my lip to stop it quivering. “I know.” I lifted my hand, curling my fingers around the side of my neck. “But I don’t want you to stop,” I whispered. “I’ve waited a long time for you, Neco. Don’t make me wait anymore.”

His nostrils flared and I could feel the beat of his heart against mine pound harder, faster.

“Shit, baby.” He rolled his hips, making me gasp. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” I urged him back down, my lips touching his. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” That was the truth. I’d known from that first night I was meant to be Neco’s girl. But I’d given up believing he’d ever feel the same, that he’d allow himself to.

He pressed a hard, fast kiss to my lips then lifted me up, his hands dropping to the bottom of my shirt. Then he was sliding it up, helping me out of it. His gaze dropped to my cotton encased breasts. My bra was plain and boring. Something soft and comfortable. Neco looked down at me like I’d just stepped out of a Victoria’s Secret changing room. He cupped me in one of his large hands and hissed out a breath.

“Fuck.” His eyes darted back to mine. “You’re pierced.”

I nodded.

He cursed again. “Christ. You know how many times I’ve thought about these, touching them, kissing them, sucking them?”

I shook my head, trying not to squirm and beg for more.

“You got your tits early. Maybe it makes me a sick asshole, but I can remember lying in bed with you when you were fifteen, arm over your waist, wondering what you’d do if I slid my hand higher and cupped one of them.”

Oh God.

“I noticed you’d changed, wanted to touch you, kiss you, but I never fully understood how badly I wanted you until the night of that party. Seeing those guys look at you, wanting you, afraid out of my mind that one of them might hurt you . . .”

He squeezed my breast again, sliding the pad of his thumb across my nipple, the barbell there. My lips parted on a moan.

“Those guys weren’t the only ones that hurt you that night.”

Hurt didn’t cut it—he’d destroyed my teenage heart. “I thought I was going to die,” I admitted.

His eyelids dropped for a second, and then his gorgeous eyes were back on me. “I was a dumb fuck, too young to know what to do with you, how to protect you without hurting you.”

Neco had broken us that night, in a way that had taken us years of dysfunction, and me getting the shit beaten out of me, to get back. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” I whispered.

His gaze searched mine and I started to worry that he’d pull away, but then he lowered his head, sucking the mound of flesh pushing out the top of my bra into his mouth. One of his hands slid under my back and he unhooked it one-handed. He stared down at my bare breasts, stroking me, lightly touching my piercing with the tips of his fingers.

I whimpered, arching up, and he groaned low and long, then dipped his head and wrapped his lips around my nipple, tugging gently on the purple barbell, sucking, lapping it with his tongue.

He had a hand at my other breast, rough calluses abrading my sensitive flesh and I arched up again, crying out, fingernails digging into his shoulders as well as holding his head where it was, afraid he’d stop.

“Please . . . please, don’t stop,” I moaned.

He tilted his head back. “Baby girl, I’ve finally got you where you belong. Nothing’s going stop me from doing what I’m about to do to you.”