“What happened next, Maddox?"

Hannah's question jerked him back to the present. For a split second, he didn't realize what she was talking about...and then he realized she wanted to hear the rest of the story after his dad had hit Beth. He glanced over at her, at her beautiful, trusting face, and his heart tightened. He didn't want her to know the rest. He didn't want her to look at him the way Beth had. He needed her to look at him like there was hope for his soul. He needed it so badly that it actually hurt. So, he shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."

Hannah sighed and wrapped her hand around his arm. She set her head on his shoulder, and snuggled up against him. Maddox froze at the intimacy, his entire soul screaming out for her. He was caught in such darkness that Hannah's touch felt like a salvation, a breath, a chance not to fall into the endless chasm. But he couldn't drag her into it. He couldn't do it again. But he knew he couldn't stand up and walk away, not from this moment, and not from the house when they were finally plowed out. He needed the connection with her too much.

It had to be her who pulled back, because he couldn't do it. She had to make the choice for him. She had to choose to push him away, and for that to happen, she had to understand how bad he was.

Hell. He didn't want to do this, but he had to. He swallowed hard, his skin ice cold as he realized there was only one way to make Hannah protect herself from him. The truth. Maddox bowed his head and closed his eyes, his forearms braced on his quads. He didn't want her to know the truth about him. He didn't want to ever see her looking at him like she saw the monster inside.

But he also knew that for her sake, he had to show her, because he wasn't going to be strong enough to walk away. She was making him want something he hadn't dared want since Beth, even though he knew better.

"Maddox?"

He didn't look at her. He just began to talk, his voice ragged as he began to strip away the image she had of him, the one he wanted her to have forever. "When my dad hit Beth, something inside me snapped. I went after him, and my only goal was to kill him. I unleashed seventeen years of hate and fury onto the drunken bastard. I couldn't even think, or see, or even hear anything. I was in a blind rage, and all I wanted was his death." Maddox fisted his hands, remembering that day, that horrific day when he became like his dad. "My brothers dragged me off him. I was still screaming, trying to get free of their grip. My hands were bloodied from punching him, my knuckles torn. I'd even broken my thumb from hitting him so hard. I fought like hell against my brothers, but six-on-one wasn't in my favor. They got me off him, and Chase was shouting at me to look at Beth. So, I did...and everything stopped for me."

God, he'd never forget the look on her face. "She was back against the railing. She was screaming, her hands clutched over her heart. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she had blood spattered on her nice white dress. My dad was on the ground at her feet. His nose was busted, there was blood everywhere." Maddox wanted to look at Hannah, but he didn't dare. He couldn't handle the expression he knew would be on her face. The disdain. The disgust. Maybe even hate or fear. "My dad was long past being able to defend himself and I was still attacking him. I would have killed him that night with my own fists if my brothers hadn't stopped me. I would have killed him in cold blood. Beth looked at me, and I saw the absolute horror on her face, and that's when I knew. My dad was a monster, yeah, but so was I. She knew it, and we both knew right then that it was over between us. She grabbed her purse and ran, and we never spoke again."

Maddox remembered that moment when she'd backed away, a look of terror on her face, as if she were afraid Maddox would come after her next. "I let her go," he whispered. "And I never forgot that lesson." He bowed his head. "I still have that ring." He hooked a finger around the collar of his shirt and pulled out a silver chain. Dangling from the end of it was that engagement ring he'd once been so proud of, a ring that had once symbolized his foolish belief that he had a right to believe in hope and light and goodness. Today, the ring had a different purpose. "I still wear the ring as a reminder never to trust myself, never to get too close to a woman, never to let myself feel too much. It reminds me to protect others from the monster that lives within me." He dropped it back under his shirt, but as he released it, Hannah caught it and drew it free.

His heart started to pound, but he didn't look at her. He just stared at the wall on the other side of the room, his vision blurring. Even though he wasn't looking at her, he was aware of every move she made, of the brush of her fingers against his chest as she lifted the ring to look at it.

"This is quite extraordinary," she said softly. "How could you afford this as a seventeen-year-old?"

"I found it in an old thrift shop. The guy held it for me for eight months while I earned the money." He laughed softly, remembering the number of hours he'd poured over the counters at the assorted thrift stores in the area, borrowing his brother Zane's motorcycle to head to nearby towns in his search for a ring worthy of Beth. He knew exactly what the ring looked like without even looking at it. The center solitaire. The six smaller diamonds set on the platinum band. The intricate carvings that wrapped around each stone, almost as if the setting was embracing each stone. "I liked that it was old, that it had a history, that someone had loved it before. I thought the love it carried would protect us." Shit. He couldn't believe he'd said that aloud.

Her fingers closed around the ring, hiding it in her fist. He looked down at her hand, her small, delicate hand, holding so tightly onto the ring that had once been his beacon of hope and faith in the darkness of his life. No woman had touched it since he'd bought it, and seeing her holding it made something inside him turn over. Silently, unable to stop himself, he wrapped his hand around her closed fist, holding her fingers tightly around the ring.

"That's beautiful," she whispered. "You're such a romantic."

"I was, but not anymore." He couldn't take it anymore. He had to know what she was thinking. Slowly, unable to stop himself, he turned his head just enough to see her face...and then froze in shock.

The expression on her face was such warmth, such kindness, such empathy. She was looking at him as if she wanted to take him in her arms and hold him until his past vanished. There was no judgment, no fear, no disgust...just...God...caring...almost love...

Yearning pulsed through him, a raw, visceral ache to reach out and draw her into his arms, to lose himself in the energy she was pouring into him. So, he shook his head. "Don't look at me like that, Hannah. My dad's monster lives inside me, and I will destroy any woman I love, just like my dad killed my mom, and I broke something inside Beth that day."

She shook her head. "Don't do that to yourself, Maddox, You're wrong—"

"No." He squeezed her hand more tightly, more urgently, almost desperate to make her stop talking, stop saying things that his soul was crying out for. "Never forget what I am, Hannah. I would have killed my own father with my bare hands if my brothers hadn't stopped me." He held up his hands to her. "Never forget the blood that was on these hands, the blood that will be on them again if the monster ever wins again." He looked at her. "My brothers are all that have kept me from adding to the stain on my soul. You have family that will do the same for you. Don't let them go."

Longing flashed across Hannah's face, a yearning so achingly heart-breaking that he couldn't help but reach out and grasp her hand. "I don't know how to connect with them," she whispered. "I don't know how to trust anyone. I don't know..."

She was so lost and so vulnerable that something inside him snapped. He'd admired her fierceness and her courage. It made him feel safe to be around her. After his mother and Beth, he was terrified to be around women who were soft, who he could break emotionally, so the vulnerability on Hannah's face should make him want to run away... but it didn't.

It made him want to be her strength, to hold her, to protect her, to make her strong again.

Silently, unable to stop himself, he traced his finger along her jaw, staring down into her upturned face. "I know what it's like not to trust," he said softly. "But if you pick the right people, it's worth everything."

"I trusted my mom and Katie. I don't know how to trust anyone else." She searched his face, her dark brown eyes so rich with emotion. "But you make me feel safe," she whispered. "For the first time since my mom died, I feel safe. Is that trust? Do I trust you?"

Her words touched a chord deep inside him, a chord that was so beautiful that it seemed to swell up and resonate through every cell of his body, breaking through years of rust and shadows until his entire body was vibrating. "You trust me?" He knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn't allow it, but it felt so good, so incredible.

"I don't know. I just know that I feel safe with you, and that is the most incredible feeling." She laid her hand along his jaw, her gaze steady on his. "Thank you for that, Maddox. Thank you for making us feel safe. We needed it so much, and I didn't even know it, until you gave it to us."

Warmth flooded him, a deep, longing that came from a place inside him that he'd crushed so long ago. A longing to connect with her, to kiss her, to lose himself in the softness that could come from only one place: her. "I need to kiss you," he whispered, thumbing her lower lip. "Tell me not to."

Hannah's cheeks flushed, and she met his gaze. His heart seemed to stutter when he saw the longing on her face. Heat rushed through him, and he knew what she was going to say before she said it.

"Kiss me, Maddox. Kiss me, now."

Emotions plunged though him, intense longing, need, heat, desire...everything that he'd shut down for so long. His fingers tightened on her jaw, and he bent his head until his lips were no more than a whisper from hers. "If I kiss you," he said softly, "I'm not going to stop. I need you too much."

Hannah slid her hands into his hair. "Kiss me, Maddox," she said again. "Kiss me with all you have."

He had no chance to resist. No chance at all. The only path he could take was the only one that would keep him alive.

He kissed her.

* * *

The moment Hannah felt Maddox's lips on hers, everything inside her came roaring to life. All the darkness, all her protective shields, everything that she had locked down inside her for so long suddenly exploded into a cacophony of color, energy, and light.

Desperate for more, for him, for what he made her feel, she surrendered completely to him. Need filled her, the most beautiful, most alive, most glorious need for this amazing man who had taken such care of her and her daughter. She reached for him, drawing him more tightly to her, and kissed him back. She'd never considered herself passionate, but apparently, she'd just been waiting for the right man, the right moment, the right emotions.

She kissed him back, greedy for the taste of his mouth on hers, for the way he made her feel, the way he unleashed the deepest part of her that was so powerful, and so vivid, and so vibrant. She wanted more of what he awakened inside her.

Maddox, with his kisses, his honesty, and his caring, made her feel bold. He made her feel alive. He made her feel safe enough to forget to tread carefully. He liberated her to live so fully in the moment that she felt as though she would never be contained again. Joyfully, she flung her arms around his neck and dragged him down to her, basking in feelings and freedom that were unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

Maddox growled low in his throat and his arms locked around her waist, dragging her against him as if he too had unlocked the door to something he had no control over. His kisses were so tender, and yet filled with passion and vitality at the same time.

Hannah knew that he perceived himself as dark and dangerous, but everything pouring out of him into her since the day they had met contradicted that perception. He was made of kindness, warmth, love, support, and understanding. His nature as a protector was evident. She loved his protective instincts, and, at the same time, was completely overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of what it felt like to be surrounded by so much strength and safety.

She needed more of him. More of his kiss, of connection with him, both physical and emotional. Restlessly, barely aware of what she was doing, she slid her hands under his shirt. The moment she spread her hands over his bare stomach, palming his torso, a sense of absolute rightness filled her. She needed to be close to him, to touch, to feel him against her.

Then he slid his hands under her shirt, spanning her lower back, and she forgot about everything but the feel of his hands on her skin. Pure gentleness. Heart-melting tenderness. And beautiful strength.

There was something so incredible about the feel of his strong hands palming her waist. He encircled her with his arms, his muscles flexing against her, even while he deepened his kiss, his tongue going deeper and deeper, drawing her out of her cocoon and into the light of radiant colors and brightness.

Suddenly desperate for more, she pulled her sweatshirt and sports bra off over her head, unable to stop herself, unable to walk away from the need he was stoking inside her. Somehow, despite a lifetime of not trusting men, she felt safe with him, gloriously, wonderfully safe, so safe that she surrendered to all she was feeling, not trying to hide from it or shut it down. She embraced her desires to open herself to the strength he was giving her, to surrender to the passion and need spinning through her like a whirlwind of fire.

With a low groan, Maddox locked his arm around her lower back and bent his head, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking. Hannah gasped and clutched at his shoulders, her body shaking as he grazed his teeth across her nipple. Vibrant sparks of passion and desire shot through her like fireworks, breaking through barriers that would no longer be contained.

She found herself dragging his shirt free of his jeans, and when he raised his arms to let her pull it over his head, she did so without reservation, desperate for more skin and more connection. The moment they were both naked from the waist up, he pulled her back on the couch, bracing himself over her as he showered her with kisses along her neck, on her sternum, and over her breasts.

Hannah had never felt like this before, so safe, so free to tap into the strength and desire within her, to listen to the fire burning within her. Maddox sank between her hips, his pelvis against hers. It was a position of pure domination by him, a position that gave him complete control of her...but she felt no fear. Just an amazing sense of safety, of glorious delight in putting herself in a vulnerable position with him, knowing that she was completely safe and protected.

She locked her feet behind his back, pulling him more tightly against her. She could feel his erection pressing against the juncture of her thighs. The sensation was erotic and powerful, and she loved knowing that he was hard because of her, because of her kisses, because he wanted her.

The knowledge that she was affecting him as much as he was affecting her ignited the desire already pulsing through her, increasing her level of need exponentially.

She wanted to be naked with him. She wanted him to make love to her. She wanted to lose herself in all that he was, and somehow find a way for them both to escape from the darkness, and together, somehow find their way to sunshine, sunshine so bright that it would dissolve the shadows. She gripped his shoulders, pulling back to look at him. "Make love to me," she whispered. "I need you. I need this. I need how you make me feel."

She saw the look of surprise and awe on his face, and her heart softened at his inability to believe that she could see such beauty in him, that she could trust him, despite the stories he'd told about his past. She knew then that Maddox was the man her heart had been waiting for. He was the man meant to show her what it was like to live again. He was the man to show her that not all men should be feared. He was the man to teach her that some men used their strength in the most beautiful of ways when it came to women.

Despite her need for him, she could see the resistance on his face, his need to protect her from the monster he perceived himself to be. She knew he was too honorable to ever cross that line, so she didn't give him a chance to stop. She just went for the waistband of his jeans, sliding her fingers around the button, and unfastening it, her fingers moving with astonishing dexterity given how badly her body was trembling with need for him.

The moment she slipped her hands beneath the front of his boxers and wrapped her fingers around the steely hardness of his cock, she knew she'd won the battle. Maddox whispered her name, a heart wrenching, guttural cry of need, desperation, and complete surrender. He rolled off her, staggering to his feet as he yanked his jeans off. She was still trying to unfasten her own pants when he was back, helping her unfasten her jeans and pulling them over her feet. It took only moments before he was back on top of her, his hips settling between hers...but this time, there was no fabric between them, a glorious sensation of skin against skin.

She felt the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance, nudging gently, asking, inquiring, probing, but not taking or demanding. He was going to make her take the initiative and be in control, which was both scary and exhilarating.

She locked her feet behind his butt, lifted her hips to him, and dragged his head down for a kiss, a deep kiss into which she poured every emotion that was dancing within. Glorious need, breathtaking desire, liberating safety, and the deepest soul-to-soul connection.

With a low groan, her name entwined in a gasp of desire, he capitulated to her demands and slid inside her, a beautiful, incredible sensation made her heart fill with more hope, more love, and more freedom than she'd experienced in her whole life.

"God, Hannah," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear in an intimate confession. "This is the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced in my life. I didn't know this kind of perfection existed." He framed her face with his hands, staring down at her with the most incredible, unguarded look of awe, tenderness, and love.

Seeing that expression on his face, directed at her, made something inside her open completely to him, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. His face softened in recognition, and he smiled.

She smiled back, her heart filling with joy at the sight of his dimples. "God, you're beautiful," she whispered.

"Nothing compared to you, Hannah." With the guttural moan of deep, pure desire, he plunged deep inside her, catching her cries with deep kisses designed to safeguard her most hidden desires. He thrust again, and she gasped as he moved again and again, stirring her into a passionate frenzy that obliterated everything but him. His thrusts became deeper and faster, as he switched position and angles, working her into a state of trembling need until she was at the peak of desire.

As he moved, Maddox kept whispering her name over and over and over again, saying it with so much emotional intensity, and reverence, and nurturing, that her final shields fell, and she gave herself completely to him. The moment she surrendered to him, an orgasm exploded over her, starting deep inside her belly and spreading like rushing water mixed with fireworks through her belly, down her legs, to her heart, and along her spine.

She gasped, clinging to him, her only foundation. Maddox shouted her name, and then, with one final thrust, he poured himself into her, surrendering to his orgasm. It shot through him, his body shaking as he held himself over her, his gaze locked on hers as ecstasy overtook him. His muscles trembled violently, as if his orgasm was going to tear him apart just as hers was. They clung to each other, gloriously trapped by the grip of the orgasms, before they were sent over the precipice with the last final gasp. He collapsed against her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his breath rasping in his chest. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, while their bodies shook with the intensity of what had just happened between them.

She knew in that moment, she would never, ever, be the same.