Chapter 32

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Ingrid sat on the bed cross-legged in one of Glen's T-shirts with her eyes closed. Her bare legs tempted him to strip down and get under the covers with her, but she was exhausted. He held the stray cat captive to his chest. Ingrid must've fallen asleep, sitting up, waiting for him to come upstairs. It'd taken him longer than he'd planned to find the cat and another twenty minutes to coax it out from under the barbecue on the deck.

He walked to the bed and placed the cat in her lap. Ingrid jolted, opening her eyes. A meow greeted her, and a smile grew on her face. Happiness was a rare emotion to cross over Ingrid's face, and the sight nearly knocked Glen over. He sat beside her. The chance to have her to himself too tempting to pass up.

"Jewel is still sticking around?" She stroked the cat's fur.

"Yeah, she doesn't seem to wander off anymore and sticks to the backyard." He laid down on his side and propped his head up on his hand. "She's low maintenance. Give her food and water, and she's content."

"Nah, she just likes her new sexy, cool owner." Ingrid leaned over and laid on her side, putting the cat between them. "You should get a litter box and let her sleep inside."

He huffed. "I ain't cleaning no box."

"I would," she said, staring at the cat. "She's totally worth it."

"I'll have Thad or Chuck pick one up then, along with some litter." He hooked her chin with his finger and raised her gaze. "Will that make you happy?"

Her eyes studied him. All he needed was a little hesitation or a question, and he would back away from her. She held her tongue, and he ran with his thoughts.

"I was wrong." He inhaled deeply.

"About?" she whispered, leaning closer.

He moistened his bottom lip. "You grew up too fast and took responsibilities onto yourself that no child should ever have to do. You've taken care of others since you were a little girl, and your one chance to do something for yourself almost got you killed. Because of who you are, I forget that you're young."

She raised her brows. "I can't change how I've lived or turned out."

"Not asking you to, Blue." He kissed her lightly, needing to reassure her that different was a good thing in their case. A fucking good thing.

"Glen?" She shuddered. "I don't understand why you changed your mind about being around me."

"Because not being with you is out of the question." He scooped the cat up and put Jewel on the other side of the bed. "Right or wrong, I don't give a damn anymore about what I should do. I want you with me. I want to be inside of you. I'm not going to spend another night in this house knowing you're somewhere else hurting because you want me, too."

She kissed him back. "You're riding the high part. Me, too."

"Don't know what the hell you're talking about." He rubbed his lips against hers. "Doesn't matter."

She caressed his mouth with her tongue. He captured her in a kiss, rolled her to her back, and trailed his hand up her thigh and over her bare hip. She wore nothing under his T-shirt she'd borrowed. Her openness toward him had always been there. She only needed permission. When he denied her the right to her feelings, she fought for escape. When he let her have what she wanted, she gave him pure honesty.

"Undo my belt." He moved on top of her and stretched his arm to the nightstand, grabbing a condom.

The cat jumped off the bed with a soft thump. He bit the condom package and ripped it open with his teeth as Ingrid tugged his jeans past his hips. She'd learned well.

He handed the condom to her. She rolled it on without any need of asking, giving him time to look down her bare stomach at the sweet beauty of her pussy. His balls throbbed in pleasure and he lowered his body the second Ingrid's hands came off his cock and went to his chest. Settled between her legs, he slid into her wet pussy.

Whatever she'd meant by him riding the high, he was doing it. The air was thin, his adrenaline pulsated, and below him, Ingrid smiled. Best damn ride of his life.

Planted in her, he dipped his head and grabbed her shirt with his teeth and dragged the material up, exposing her breasts. She arched toward him, and he lowered his mouth, latching on to her erect nipple.

Ingrid moaned, bringing up her leg. The pressure of her foot behind his knee urged him forward. His heart raced. He stroked her with his cock. The need to pound away, driving in his desire to make her his, filled his head.

She stroked his jaw as he sucked. Her fingers trembled on his face, letting him know her speed of arousal was growing. He lifted his head and found her eyes moving back to him. He slid his hand down, between their bodies, down her midriff, down her lower stomach and down between her legs.

Ingrid's face changed. Her eyes got lazy. Her cheeks flushed. Her mouth opened.

Hot as fuck.

No matter what she did. Eat. Sleep. Argue. Lie. He loved everything about her, but that face when he was inside of her, and the trust that he'd bring her pleasure, he loved that most.

She planted her hands on his stomach and tugged his shirt up until she laid her palms on his skin. Her touch curled his torso up, plunging his cock deeper inside of her. He circled her clit with his finger and watched her eyes drift half-closed.

"Can I...?" Her breath hissed. "Be on top?"

He stilled, taken aback by her question. It took him a moment to make sense of the words, and when everything clicked in his head, he rolled, taking her with him, until she straddled him and he laid flat on his back.

She leaned forward, laying on his chest, and cupped the back of his head with her hands. His cock pulsed deep inside of her. Her small feet turned, burrowing under his thighs.

She'd locked him down.

Then, she moved. He could do nothing but take the pleasure while listening to her sexy-as-fuck heavy breathing in, on, around his ear.

Her lips skimmed his earlobe. His toes curled, and he wrapped his arms around her slim body until his hands ended up at her sides where he palmed the sweep slope of her hips. He turned his head, found her neck, and mimicked her by taking her earlobe between his lips.

"You're going to make me come," he said with a growl.

She answered with a low moan. Her undulating body took on a life of its own, and he was her prisoner.

He came first. Then, she came because he'd given her permission.

Yeah, she'd locked him down. No way in hell he was letting her go.

He brought his hand up and cupped the back of her head, kissing her hard. "You need to sleep, and I need to go make a few phone calls and check outside."

She sighed and raised her head. "Were you serious about me staying with you?"

"Said it." He rolled to his side, slipped out of her, and kissed her again. "I need to call Pauly and set things up for tomorrow before it gets too late and I wake him up. I leave for work before you need to leave, so arrangements need to be made."

He stood and deposited the used condom in the trash. Movement came from Ingrid's backpack dumped on the floor at the end of the bed. Amusement hit him. "Not sure how long you're going to want that cat in the house."

"Why?" She came up out of bed, and the T-shirt she wore fell to her knees.

"He's—"

"Jewel's a she," interrupted Ingrid.

"She's in your backpack." He walked out of the room. "Get some sleep. I'll be up once I have everything settled."

He stopped in the bathroom and washed up. Getting back together with Ingrid only fed his need to create a life where she never had to be afraid or responsible for anyone. He hoped Evan Kingsley made a move because he was tired of playing his fucked-up game.

He fastened his jeans and went out of the bathroom. In the hallway, he stopped outside his bedroom and instead of finding Ingrid curled up in his bed, she sat on the floor, hugging Jewel to her neck, and quietly sobbing. His gut tightened, and he strode into the room, squatting down beside her.

"Hey," he said, lifting her chin needing to see her face.

A watery smile shined back at him. "Oh, Glen..."

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Everything is right."

"Talk."

"The cat got her paw stuck in the afghan in my pack because she was trying to make a bed for herself." She rearranged Jewel on her lap and lifted the cat's front paw. "See that?"

He looked over the extracted claws. They were all there. No blood. No hair missing. No injury that he could see.

"Was she limping?" he asked.

"No." Ingrid laughed grabbing one of Jewel's other legs and lifting her paw up. "She's got white fur on the bottom of her right, front paw. Can you believe it?"

He ran his hand over his jaw. Cats weren't high on his list of things he needed in his life and far as he knew, cats came in all combinations of colors.

He chuckled. "I'm not sure that makes her special, Blue."

"It makes her very special. I keep that afghan with me because my grandma made it for me on my tenth birthday and my cat always used to sleep on it." She picked up Jewel. "This is my cat. This is Daisy. M-my mom said Daisy ran away while I was living on the streets, like a year and a half ago. Glen, you found my cat."

He shook his head in wonder. More like Daisy found him, just like her owner.