Paige had gone to bed and Garrett was trying to get comfortable on the couch, but finding it impossible. He was too freaking big to sleep on the couch for one thing, but most of all he couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful woman down the hall. He threw off the light blanket and got up, pacing over to the glass doors that overlooked the small apartment complex courtyard. He stood there, shirtless and in his boxers, and thought about everything that happened that day. He wasn’t supposed to be there, or anywhere for that matter. But he was, because of Paige. He’d been there that night to answer Jessie’s call and read her favorite story because of Paige. Garrett didn’t know if he believed in God or not. For him, spirituality had always been a struggle. He had vague memories of his mother, who died from kidney disease when he was only five, but his father talked about her a lot and Garrett grew up feeling like he knew her. His dad obviously loved her, and he told Garrett more than once that she’d “saved his life.” When they met, he’d been addicted to heroin. Garrett’s mother had stuck by him while he got clean and he told Garrett that she prayed for him every day. She was a religious woman, which Garrett had a hard time reconciling with the fact that she was an old lady to an enforcer in an MC too. But although his dad said she left the church when they got together, she never stopped believing and she never stopped praying. In Garrett’s mind, it hadn’t done her any good. She was dead and then fifteen years later, the love of her life was dead, and their son’s soul was destined, if not for hell, then for a much darker place.

But despite his struggles with God, Garrett had a feeling unlike any he’d ever had before—that someone, or something, had caused him to show up in time to save Paige, and for her to save him in return. He wasn’t sure what to do with that. Would he find and kill this Ewell guy and then go on with his own plans to kill himself? It wasn’t like anything would be different in his life.

“Hey.” The sound of her voice startled him. He shivered as he turned around. She was wearing an old t-shirt he’d given her to sleep in. It came down almost to her ankles and the short sleeves were three-quarters on her. She looked hot and his body took notice, and that’s when he realized that he was almost naked.

“Hey. I’m sorry.” He inched toward the sofa and picked up the blanket. “Did I wake you?”

She smiled as he slid the blanket up over his chest and held it tightly in his arms. “No. I think I slept too long earlier.” She took a step toward him. “I like your tattoo.” Garrett looked down at his chest like he’d never seen the tattoos before. On one side he had an American flag with an eagle standing in front of it with an olive branch in its mouth. Strangely enough, peace was the only thing Garrett ever really hoped for. If he couldn’t have it in his soul, he wished for it for the rest of the world. On the other side of his chest were two tiny little footprints, Jessie’s. Between them was a dark, red rose with a pink ribbon wrapped around the stem, and her name was written in black and outlined in red below it.

“Thanks. Did you…um…did you need something?”

“I was just going to get something to drink, if you don’t mind.”

“No, of course. Let me get it for you.”

“I can get it. Sit down. Do you want something?”

“Nah…you know what, maybe I’ll make some hot chocolate.” He started to get back up.

“I’ll do it,” she said in a tone that didn’t leave room for argument. He sat back down and let her go. Damn, she looked good in that t-shirt. He tucked the blanket down tighter into his lap and leaned back into the couch. He closed his eyes while he waited and allowed himself a few minutes of fantasy about what he’d do if he ever got the chance to slide that t-shirt off of her. He was so into it that he didn’t hear her come back into the room. She cleared her throat, and he gave a start again and sat up straight. Embarrassed by his thoughts, he reached for his t-shirt. “Are you cold?”

“No, not really.” Before he could grab the shirt, she handed him the mug of hot chocolate with a mound of whipped cream on top.

“You don’t have to put your shirt on for me.” She sat down on the couch too, too close for comfort. She took a sip of her steaming cocoa and then said, “I kind of like you like this,” with a wink.

He sipped his own chocolate and then asked, “Like what, exactly?”

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she reached her hand toward him. Garrett almost recoiled just because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle her touching him, without touching her back. He forced himself to stay put while she ran her thumb seductively across his top lip. “Whipped cream,” she said.

“Oh, thanks…you know that’s not how you get whipped cream off your lips though, right?”

“Really? How would you suggest it be done?” she asked. Garrett wasn’t sure where his sudden nerve came from, but he had to kiss her. He leaned toward her and let his tongue come out. He slid it across her upper lip and she sighed and closed her eyes. “Did you get it?” she whispered.

He smiled. “There wasn’t any there.” His mouth came crashing down on hers then and he finally kissed her. His lips tingled when they met hers and she parted her lips willingly to let his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like chocolate and whipped cream and if there was a heaven, like that too, he thought.

His hands fell down around her waist and he held onto her while they kissed, letting them run slowly up and down her sides and back, stopping short of touching her beautiful breasts. He started to pull out of the kiss at one point and suddenly her arms were around his neck, pulling him back down. She lapped hungrily at his lips and tongue and then nibbled all around his mouth before moving down to his neck and doing the same there. Garrett tipped his head back, and she climbed up into his lap to get better access. He hated the blanket with a passion for being there and coming between him and whatever she was wearing underneath that t-shirt. While she kissed his neck his hands grew bolder, making their way underneath her shirt and touching her soft skin. His rough hands were a big contrast to the silk he was touching, and it only made him hunger for more. He pushed the shirt all the way up and when she leaned back to pull it off, he realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. He didn’t even realize he was staring until she said,

“You can look, and touch.” He grinned and brought his hands up to her full breasts. He took one in each hand, pressing his palms into the hard peaks and moving them in circles. She whimpered and tossed her long, dark hair back over her bare shoulders. The sight of her neck was too tempting to pass up and he went in for a bite. He nibbled across her throat and up to her ear on one side. He ran his tongue across the lobe and around the outside of it before blowing his warm breath on it and watching and feeling her shudder. He was surprised but happy when she threw one of her legs over his thigh and let the other fall down in between them. He could feel how wet she was as her silky, soft, hot pussy ground into his thigh. His cock was so hard that it hurt, and it was like a pipe bomb exploded in his head when she reached down and touched him through his shorts. She ran her hand along the hard length of him and then wrapped her hand around it and started to move the hand up and down.

Garrett groaned, and he took her hips in his hands and stood her up in front of him. He wanted to make sure she got some pleasure before she pushed him to the brink. Her breasts were right at the level of his mouth, and he didn’t waste his vantage point. He leaned forward and ran his tongue all the way around one of them. Paige’s hands were in his hair, twisting the long strands around her fingers and tugging at it. He moved over and licked a circle around the other breast and then before his wet saliva dried, he blew on it. Paige gasped and pulled his head in tighter.

Garrett went to town, sucking and licking and reveling in the sounds of pleasure she was making in return. He put his hand on her leg just above the knee and although she stepped to the side to open her legs, he took his sweet time sliding his hand up across her soft thigh. When he got to the top, he ran his fingers along the sensitive inner part, stopping short of touching her pussy. She was so wet, he wanted to bury his face between her legs, but he was trying to take his time. He could only imagine, if she’d been having dreams of being violated, what it might do to her to be suddenly attacked by someone his size. He was going to take his time and if this was the only chance he got to make her feel good, he was going to make her feel so good that she remembered it for the rest of her life…the long life that he meant to see that she had.