.
Memories of the night washed over her, and her belly fluttered remembering how he'd made love to her throughout the night. As though he'd been starving for her and couldn't get enough.
"Mornin'," he murmured, tightening his arms around her.
She met his sleepy gaze. "Good morning."
"Sleep well?"
She nodded. It'd been a fabulous night. Her mind and heart swirled with the possibility of having a relationship with Stan, yet old insecurities told her this couldn't be real. He couldn't be real.
She shifted slightly, sore muscles reminding her exactly how long it'd been since she'd enjoyed the touch of a man, and yet none had given her the pleasure Stan had shown her. No, they'd only taken what she'd so freely offered. She'd been foolish enough to think they were interested in her, as a person and not just a warm body in their bed.
Needy, God, I was so needy. The thought shamed her, and she looked away. I'll never be that weak girl again, she promised herself.
She bit her bottom lip, attempting to pull her emotions together.
"Hey." Stan tipped her face up to meet his gaze. His brows dipped in concern. "Last night meant something to me, Shelly, and I hope you'll let me back into your life." He placed his hand over her chest. "Your heart." He reached up and stroked her cheek. "Please, darlin’, I'm beggin' here, don't shut me out."
Could she trust him? Her heart said yes, but her head still put up a struggle.
There was always a chance he wouldn’t want her when he found out she couldn't even remember Maggie’s father. Maybe I should tell him and find out how strong his feelings for me really are. Fear rushed through her at the thought of losing him again, and she blinked back tears. If they were to have a chance, he should know about her past.
"Fuck," he gritted out, and her eyes widened because Stan hardly ever swore. "I'm so sorry. Whatever it is, I’m sorry. Please don't cry."
Caressing her face, he kissed each of her brows, then her cheeks, her nose, all the while murmuring promises to never hurt her again and apologizing for being such a jerk. "You're the only woman for me, Shelly. The only one I want. Let me prove it to you."
He pressed his mouth to hers again in a long, lingering kiss, one that felt real. Like a promise, and Shelly found herself relaxing, her chest filling with hope. The feel of his hard, naked body pressed against hers, his erection swelling against her thigh, sent desire rushing through her again.
Tell him now, before things go any further.
Breaking the kiss, Shelly turned her head slightly. "Stan," she managed to gasp out, “we need to talk."
He studied her, eyes filled with worry. “Okay." He shifted onto his back, so she was lying against his side, her head nestled on his chest. He stroked her hair. "What is it?"
Shelly didn't miss the thread of nervousness running through his voice. Her tension eased a little at the realization Stan was afraid she'd reject him. Gathering her courage, she rubbed his chest. "There are some things about me I think you should know, before we take this relationship any deeper."
"There's nothing—”
“Don't say anything.” She placed her finger across his lips, meeting his surprised gaze. "Shh. Let me say this, before I chicken out."
His eyes told her there was nothing she could say that'd change his mind about her, but he nodded. She lowered her hand to his chest again and tucked her head under his chin, not wanting to look at him as she told her story. Not wanting to see his eyes fill with disgust as she took a tumble off that pedestal he'd set her on.
"My parents were killed in a car accident when I was eleven."
He hugged her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.
"I had no relatives, not close ones anyway, and no one wanted to take me in."
Stan cursed under his breath, loud enough for her to hear. She almost smiled, since she'd heard him swear more in the last half hour, then the entire time they’d dated.
"I went into the system, and they sent me to an orphanage." She twirled the light hairs on his chest. "I learned very early in life that men desired me."
His body tensed. "What happened?" he asked quietly, anger evident in his tone.
She patted his chest in an attempt to calm him. "Nothing—nothing really bad anyway."
In the next instant, Stan reversed their positions, and she found herself on her back with him leaning into her side. Cupping her face, he glared down at her. His anger wasn't directed at her, but for her, and the rest of her anxiety fell away as she finally allowed herself to believe that this wonderful man truly cared.
"Define 'really bad,’" he growled. The sexy line of his jaw flexed with tension.
She tenderly ran her fingers down that same strong jawline, staring into his beautiful silver-gray eyes, teeming with emotion. "Eventually, they placed me with a couple who had a teenage son. Right away, he followed me around, making me feel uncomfortable. Sometimes he'd corner me when no adults were nearby and try to kiss me."
When Stan opened his mouth to speak, she held up a hand. "Let me finish."
He nodded grimly, then sat up, scooping her with him as he inched up to rest his back against the headboard, placing her across his lap. He tugged the sheet up around them and rested his chin on the top of her head as he held her close.
Shelly sighed, clasping both his arms, wrapped around her so protectively, snuggling in close.
"This went on like that for almost two years, until he started getting angry at my rejections. One night I woke up with him on top of me and his hand covering my mouth as he felt me up. His parents heard us struggling and rushed into the room. Of course they blamed me for teasing him, and I was sent back to the orphanage."
"Thank God," Stan muttered.
"Yeah," she agreed. "I was a teenager by then and no one wanted to adopt a sullen teenage girl." She laughed. "Well, not anyone the orphanage would agree to, anyway. Especially after what had happened."
"So you told them?"
"Yes. For what it was worth. No one seemed to think it was a big deal."
"You grew up there?"
"Yep. It really wasn't a bad place, for the most part. The caretakers did their best to see to our needs.” She sighed. “It was tough, since there was little parental supervision. The way boys gravitated toward me only confirmed my warped sense of self." Shelly shifted uncomfortably, preparing to share the worst of it. "By the time I turned fourteen, I was pretty wild. Partying, drinking and drugs. I thought the way to get a boy's affection would be to sleep with him."
Shelly tensed, waiting for Stan's disapproval. None came. He kissed the top of her head, giving her the courage to continue. "I lost my virginity by the time I was fifteen at a drunken party. After that I searched for the love I desperately craved by sleeping around. Each time I slept with someone I thought he'd fall head-over-heels in love with me.”
Shame filled her voice. "Of course it never happened. But that didn't stop me from trying."
"Hey," Stan said gently, stroking her hair. "We all cope with life stresses in our own ways." Only then did she realize she was shaking as Stan attempted to calm her. "Being a wild-child as a teenager isn't something new. All teenagers have issues, and you had more reason than most."
His calm tone settled her, and she finally glanced up to meet his gaze. "There's more."
He nodded, not a flicker of disapproval showing on his face. "Go on, darlin’. I'm listening."
"On my eighteenth birthday, I left the orphanage. I was already working as a waitress, so I found a roommate and moved out. I felt liberated, and vowed to get my life together. I decided to go to college for nursing and began to take night classes. I backed off from the party scene for over six months. Concentrated on studying. Then one day my roommate invited me to a party at her brother’s."
She paused as her mind went back to that night, still not sure exactly what happened.
"You okay?" Stan brushed a finger across her cheek.
Focusing her attention back on him, she nodded. "After my first drink, I don't remember much of anything about that night."
She swallowed hard, then forced out the rest of the story. "Three weeks later I found out I was pregnant."
He stroked her hair, then tucked her head back under his chin, hoping to keep her relaxed so she'd continue to confide in him. "After you entered the party and had a drink, what happened?"
His muscles tensed at the sound of her drawn-out sigh, filled with sadness and resignation. Yeah, he was pretty sure he knew what'd happened to her, and it took all his control not to let his anger show, not wanting her to shut down until she'd told him everything.
Then I'm going to hunt down any son-of-a-bitch who touched her and kick the shit out of ‘em.
"Nothing. That's the problem. After that first drink, the next thing I remember is waking up the next morning, alone in one of the upstairs bedrooms." A shudder rolled over her. "I was completely naked, my clothes scattered across the floor."
Anger coiled inside him, knowing her drink had obviously been roofied. He couldn’t contain the curse that fell from his mouth as all sorts of ugly possibilities ran through his mind.
"Yeah," Shelly agreed, glancing away. "So either I got so drunk I blacked out, or I was drugged." She shrugged. "Whatever happened, it was my fault for putting myself in that position."
"Bullshit," Stan muttered angrily. "You were raped, how in the hell is that your fault?" Still not meeting his gaze, she shifted away from him. He tightened his hold and brought her back against his chest. "Shelly, you have to know it wasn't your fault."
There was a long pause, before she answered, finally looking at him. "Logically I know you're right.” She raked the fingers of one hand through her hair. “There's a part of me that says I got what I deserved for living that lifestyle."
The sadness in her eyes made him want to hit something. "You said you weren't living the lifestyle anymore. And even if you were, that doesn't give someone the right to touch you without permission."
"Deep down I know that.” A solemn smile curved her lips. “You have to understand, once I lost my parents, I lost love. I missed them. I missed having someone care about me. Every time I slept with someone, I knew I was searching for that one person who would care about me above all else."
Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "And every time, I was disappointed. I think that's why it hurt so much when I found you with another woman. You were just one more example of my poor choices, someone who would only break my heart."
Stan felt about two inches tall, regretting that one impulsive moment more than he could say. Totally his fault and it'd take time for him to make it up to her. Earn back her trust. Good thing he was a patient man, because no matter what he was going to be there for her.
"Shelly, when you came into my life . . . Hell, I wasn't ready for the way you made me feel."
Her eyes widened, hurt filling her gaze.
Damn it. He needed to get this out before he totally screwed it up. "Please, let me explain."
Her mouth firmed, and she nodded.
"As a Marine, Dad was gone a lot, and my mother was unfaithful more times than I can count. Jealousy ate my father up whenever he was home, not that I could blame him. It infected every aspect of our lives. They fought constantly.”
“Did he hit her?”
“No, he’d storm out of the house and cool off, leaving her crying. Finally, when I was nine, she ran off with another man and never looked back. Dad managed to get a hardship discharge from the military to care for us. Unfortunately, he sank into a bottle and didn't come out until Carol came along."
"How long was that?"
"Four years. Colleen took on the mothering role and did the best she could, but she was only twelve herself."
"That seems so unlike the man I met the other night." Her voice sounded sad.
"Dad never abused us. Did the best he could, actually.” Stan shrugged. “He just couldn't seem to shake the depression of losing her. Every night after work, he’d sit in front of the TV with a beer. Or six."
His laugh held no humor as he recalled those dark days. "I swore to never let a woman mean so much to me that I couldn't function without her. It's no excuse, but what I felt for you scared me. My jealousy scared me, and instead of talking to you about it, I pushed you away. Thought I'd be better off without you."
He stared into her eyes, trying to convey his regret. "I was so wrong, Shelly. Please give me another chance."
Her expression softened. "Okay. I get it. We've both made mistakes. Let's see where this thing between us goes.” She gave a small shake of her head. “I'm not making any promises."
Something inside him eased, even as a part of him still raged over what had happened to her. "I couldn't expect anything more. Thank you. I won't let you down."
Hating to bring it back up, but needing to know, Stan asked, "Shelly, that night, do you remember who gave you the drink?"
"Not really. Some random guy who came by and offered me a cup of beer from the keg. I should have known better.” She shrugged. “It's not like we we're out at a bar or anything. It was a private party."
"Not your fault, remember."
She snuggled closer, tucking her head at the crook of his shoulder, playing with the hairs on his chest. "Life is strange. If not for that night I wouldn't have Maggie. So how can I regret it? She's the best thing that's ever happened to me. It doesn't matter how she was conceived."
It damn well mattered to Stan that Shelly’d been abused. For now, he'd let the subject drop. They'd discuss it later, when she wasn't feeling quite so vulnerable after sharing her story . . . And he wasn't feeling quite so lethal about it.
Tilting her face up, he gently kissed her soft lips, wanting to offer comfort and soothe her emotions. When Shelly kissed him back with a fiery passion he hadn't been expecting, his desire for her was like a punch in the gut, and he groaned, taking the kiss deeper.
The peal of his cell phone broke the spell. Stan lifted his head and cursed softly. "Hell. I better get that."
Snatching the cell off the nightstand, he recognized Bob's phone number. "Yeah, what is it?"
"Well hello to you too, sunshine," Bob drawled. "Thought you might like to know, I went back to my place after Dave fell asleep to check out the video feed, and we got a good photo of the guy. And, Stan . . ."
There was a heavy pause. "You're going to want to see this first, without Shelly being present."