She's gone.

I know it before I even open my eyes or wince from the rolling of my stomach and the pounding in my head. But it's my fucking pussy ass heart that hurts the most. She saw me. The real me. Weak. Broken. Lost.

And then she left.

Rarely do I indulge my pity so obviously. But when I fuck up, I seem to have a tendency to fuck up royally. Go big or go home. In all things I guess. Self-hatred included.

My jacket pulls taut across my forearm as I untangle myself from the sheets. At least I took my fucking shoes off. They're sitting neatly next to the night stand. Or maybe she did that. A bottle of water, two Advil, and a banana cover the wooden top. She definitely did that. So fucking sweet. Better than I deserve.

I toss back the pills and chug down the cool liquid. Welcoming the relief alleviating the drought in my mouth. I manage a few bites of the fruit before I have to stop ignoring the shrieking of my fucking phone. It takes all I've got not to tell Ty to shut the fuck up when I answer. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I should be asking you that."

My brother's harsh baritone bellows through the speaker. Motherfucker needs to dial that shit down.

"It's fucking ten o'clock. Is your lazy ass going to stay in fucking bed all damn day?"

Fuck! Way past the normal four to five hours I allow myself to sacrifice for sleep. I'd love to fucking blame the booze. Or this fucking god awful headache. But I can't. It was her. My body absorbing her sweetness for all it could. Craving her genuine affection. "I don't fucking answer to you."

"Well, the men who do answer to you are fucking waiting for your orders. So stop lolling in bed and get the fuck down here you stupid motherfucker."

I fucking hate it when he's right. "I'll be there in thirty."

To clean up the mess. To make that motherfucker pay even more. St. Louis may not be big enough to sate Creed Annikov's hunger for domination, but I'll make damn sure my city will never be his.

Peeling off my clothes, I shove the rest of the banana in my mouth as I stride to the shower. Loathe to wash her enticing scent off of me. I'm already so fucking hard thinking about her. But I don't need any distractions. This bastard needs my full attention to keep my guys, and my family, safe.

Without enough time to shave let alone jack off, I let the memories engulf me that Eli stirred about my Dad and Harper's funeral. His broken heart yesterday resurrecting the hellish pain we endured. With Ty beyond wasted and me trying to manage Eli when the first joke of a nanny I hired, who insisted he needed closure by attending the services, fucking flaked on me. Watching my baby brother crying hysterically, almost breaking free from my hold straining to reach his mother laid out in an ebony coffin. That horror shuts down my need in a heartbeat.

I throw on a fresh suit, pausing when Molly's energetic voice seeps through the window. I can't help but smile. Eli's already trying to master riding a two wheeler. He just never fucking gives up. He hops up and climbs on again, already peddling before she can get her hand on the back of the seat, racing to catch up with him.

She lets go and he seems to have it, traveling about fifteen feet before he swerves and then collapses on his right side. Damn, poor kid.

This time he's slow to get up. Kicking at the tire with more irritation than necessary to crawl out from underneath the still spinning wheel. Ah, the Ellison temper coming out. He jumps to his feet and jerks the strap under his chin, slamming the helmet to the ground.

Not very often does he have a full on temper tantrum, but sometimes even this four year old can't do everything he thinks he can. Or face the disappointment of his failure.

Molly gives him a small smile, shouting something encouraging I'm sure. But, his body language has got 'fuck that' written all over it.

Of everyone, he's best behaved for her. But even he gets pushed too far. She takes his impudence in stride, shrugging her shoulders and walking back to the steps. Dropping down on the bottom stair, she waits. Not ignoring him, yet not indulging his melt down either. Good for her.

I can't hold back my chuckle at Eli stomping around the grass. Kicking the closest black path light and one of the concrete flower boxes for good measure. That has to hurt. He limps over to Molly, his anger forgotten with his pained foot. She slides off the shoe and sock and provides a very thorough examination for his toe and his pride. Little man's head bobbing the entire time she talks to him. Making everything better. For his body and his heart.

I keep that image with me as I jog down the steps and into the garage. She may have given up on me, but I can deal with that. With the fucking remorse of everything that I've done to her. As long as I know she's here for Eli.

* * *

I groan from the timid knock on the door. After eleven o'clock. Way past Eli's bedtime. Damn, I hate for the kid to be sick, but it's been a shit ass day plotting against Annikov, and I don't think I can take playing nurse all night. I yank down the handle.

Not him.

Molly.

Fuck me. She's in my bedroom. Again. And this time I'm not drunk, and she's not terrified.

A shy smile, soft but hesitant, glows on her gorgeous face. She twists her fingers together before her gaze drops to her bare feet. Fucking stunning in her purple tank top and white and lilac swirly yoga pants.

"Hi."

"Hi, angel."

The grin doubles in intensity matching my cock coming to life, and she looks up again. "I wasn't sure what time you went to bed but I know you stay up late so I didn't want to come too soon but if you want me to leave—"

The rambling. She's nervous, and I'm so fucking confused. "I never want you to leave, but I don't understand..."

This time I trail off when her face falls, blushing with embarrassment. Huge eyes meet mine. "But last night you said...I guess you were drunk and didn't mean...God, I shouldn't have believed..."

She blows out a deep breath, realizing she's not making much sense. "I'm so sorry. I'll go."

What the fuck did I say to her? Regardless of what I told her, I'm not missing this opportunity to implement my plan and get her into my bed. My fingers slide around her delicate wrist trying to be as gentle as I can when she starts to turn away. "No. I want you here. With me."

All the fucking time. I loosen my grip but don't release her. Too afraid she'll run away. And never come back.

"I should leave."

She points to the hallway over her shoulder with a trembling finger, and I slam the door shut behind her. Proving my point. Eliminating any argument. Making her mine.

If she was any other woman I would back her up against the thick wood and take her right there. Push her up the smooth surface by her ass cheeks and pump into her until I was empty. Which is exactly what it would feel like. Just a meaningless fuck.

With Molly, I can't. For the first time ever, I actually don't want to. I mean I want to fuck her. God do I want to fuck her until neither one of us can fucking think straight. But, if she's going to stick around, really be there as a mother for Eli, I have to treat her like I would a wife. Not a one night stand. Not my plaything. She can’t ever feel anything but worshiped. "Stay."

She watches my thumb stroke over her arm, goosebumps rising on her ivory skin. I swear to fucking god she shivers from my touch. Her nipples hardening under her shirt and straining against the fabric. Just like my hungry dick.

"Okay."

Her breathless tone makes my own body tighten. It takes everything in me to let her go and be the gentleman she thinks I am. "Good."

Her body seems to relax, and she looks around, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "What do you want to do now?"

Jesus Christ. Fucking damn this woman is so blessed innocent saying shit like that. I mean she could fucking strip, and I could tie her to my headboard with her silk panties. Or let me bend her over the sofa. Or drop to her knees and show me everything she can do with that sweet mouth. This angel makes it so fucking hard to be good. "I need to brush my teeth."

I stride to the bathroom, desperate to be alone and get my shit together. But of course, she follows me. Hopping up on the counter, and smiling that enormous smile.

"We missed you at dinner. I guess you had a pretty hectic day?"

Small talk. Of which my skills are so fucking lacking. Doesn't require much conversation after my brother primes their pussies for me and I roll on a condom. We all know what we're there for.

Nodding, I mumble through the toothpaste. "Yeah, really busy."

"When I picked up Eli today, Miss Abigail said he's doing so well with his handwriting. He's already working on short sentences. She said he's one of the best writers in the class."

Fuck yeah he is. Satisfaction pounds in my chest, and I head bob like a dumb ass from pride I don't deserve but fucking love just the same.

"I talked to my Mom today too. She invited us to stay with them when we come for the Sweet Corn Festival." A nervous laugh bubbles in her throat. "She said to warn you it's nothing fancy. I told her you don't care about stuff like that and not to worry so much."

The euphoria from Eli's success instantly dies. Damn, it's like she's stabbed a blade right through my chest. Fucking guilt that I'm not used to and don't fucking like. Only she has this power over me. "Sure. It'll be fine. I'm just looking forward to meeting them."

My reward is her beautiful face lighting up like the sun. She's excited about the trip. And the lame ass pussy inside me, who's somehow lost his fucking balls, hopes at least some of her enthusiasm stems from me coming along.

I spit and rinse, tensing from the awkwardness growing between us and this fucked up slumber party we seem to be having. Pretty soon we'll be fucking pillow fighting and stuffing ourselves with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Fuck this shit. I'm taking charge. Owning her like everything and everyone else.

After tossing my spin brush into the drawer, I glide in front of her, boxing her in between the mirror and towel bar. Wishing her nervous tongue was licking me instead of her lips. "I may not remember everything I said last night, but I sure as hell remember what we did."

"The kiss?"

She seems so hopeful, like she actually wants me to say the same words. Share the same hunger for more. I stroke a long finger down her jawline, tipping her chin up. "Yeah, angel. The kiss. It was fucking amazing."

"Can I tell you something?"

Desire explodes through my veins from her intoxicating whisper. From the heat radiating from her tilting body. Leaning so fucking close to me her minty breath blows on my blazing skin. "Anything."

"I liked it too."

Damn, I am so fucked. I fist her thin shirt and tug her all the way forward, forcing her legs apart, her ass barely hanging onto the tile. Her gasp meets my groan, and I seize the opportunity, covering her open mouth with mine.

Ferocity I never fucking expected responds to my lips, her tongue delving deeper, her fingers clutching my hair. So intense that I know it's more than just my desire flaming the fire between us.

Which may already be fleeting but I'm damn sure not going to be the one who smothers it. I luxuriate in her taste. Breathe in the flowery scent floating through her long hair. The feel of her lower back as I possess her with my hand caressing the buttery skin. Grinding my dick against her smooth belly.

After a few more seconds, she breaks away, sputtering breaths warm my lips from her panting. She squirms backward out of my embrace, thrusting her pink tipped fingers against my racing heart to hold me off. Which is sexy as hell with the conflict playing out on her face. Fuck me. Baby girl wants more, yet is too scared to admit it. But thank fucking god she doesn't run. Not yet anyway.

"Luciano."

Instead, her head tilts, and she gives me a contented smile. Happiness filling her eyes as well as her tone. I've given her the first sober, genuine affection I've offered anyone in years.

She fucking loves it.

And wants to stop.

Damn girl is going to fucking kill me. I adjust my furious cock and aching balls. Bluer than a fucking Smurf. Which doesn't go unnoticed from the blush creeping up her cheeks and her gaze flitting everywhere but my hand on my crotch. What I wouldn't give for it to be her fingers relieving the pain. "I need you angel. Not tonight. But someday soon." I groan in frustration and lust. "Very soon."

Nothing. No response. No indignant huff. Yet also no protest. Just huge blue eyes staring at me. Better than a smack.

"I guess it's time to go to sleep."

The last fucking thing I want to do with her. I nod to keep myself from twirling her around and taking her against the vanity. Watching as she comes undone as I palm her huge breasts and stroke her dripping pussy. Instead, I take her small hand, leading her into the bedroom. Channeling the little bit of goodness that remains in me from my mother's guidance. This is how good girls should be treated. I think. Never really have known one.

All of her confidence fades when we reach the bed. Her fingers tense, curled in mine, and her other arm wraps around her waist. Damn. I just told her I wasn't taking her tonight. Pissing me off that she doubts me. Even though she really has no reason to trust me. Yet.

We've got to get past this. So I need to push. Probably more than we both want. "Tell me why you're really here."

She balls the hem of her shirt, inadvertently yanking the fabric lower. Giving me a glimpse of the hollow between her gorgeous breasts. My tongue needing to taste the sweet skin. Fucking me up with her delicate beauty.

"Answer me Molly."

Flinching from the sternness of my command. I'm a fucking bastard to scare her. But I have to fucking know. To understand. What she wants from me. What I can give to her that makes her want to stay.

"B-because you made me promise."

Nope. Not enough. "Why did you agree?"

Frown lines squeeze her forehead and my pussy ass heart. Fucking pity. Or even fucking worse, obligation. She probably thinks I'm going to fucking fire her if she doesn't stay. Too many ideas swirl in my head. All of them shitty.

"I get lonely too."

Nothing could fucking surprise me more. Embarrassment dulls her voice. A defeated droop of her shoulders that I hate. How is that fucking possible? "You have your family, and your friends...taking you out, remember?" Which I somehow need to put a stop to. But, that's a conversation for another night. "You're not alone."

"Maybe not now. But before...it wasn't like that." The light in her gorgeous eyes dims more, and she's back to inspecting the carpet. "So I know how much it hurts."

Now I'm really fucking confused. And fucking pissed from the inkling growing in my gut that someone hurt her. "Before what?"

"Nothing. Forget it." She shakes her head. As if clearing away whatever burden weighs on her. Plastering on a fake smile to cover her still lackluster expression. "Let's just go to bed."

Yeah, that's fucking romantic. I've got a fucking gorgeous woman wanting in my bed...to sleep. Damn.

I yank back the blankets, waiting for her to crawl in. But she shakes her head. Pushes our coupled hands against my thigh, urging me forward. Okay then. I guess I'm going in first. My patience waning as my ass hits the sheets. I'm not fucking made to be a nice guy. I'm kidding her and myself. "Listen, I..."

My protest is lost in the pure paradise of her body sheathing mine, knees tucking in the curve of my legs, small icy feet rubbing against my soles. The fabric of her smooth tank glides down my back as she snuggles in. Done. I'm so fucking done. Slayed by the backward embrace of a woman I can't seem to have. And want more than ever.

"What's this mean?"

Soft fingers trace the ink on my left shoulder, and my hips instinctively jerk forward. Needing to find her. And fucking bury myself in her heaven.

My palm automatically curls around my rock hard dick from her touch. Wishing it was her. Her fingers. Her mouth. Her pussy. Anything that will make her mine. "It's the symbol for strength. I got it when my Dad died. A reminder to put Eli first. Everything I do has to be for him."

Too bad I've failed him so many fucking times. But I swear to god I'm going to do so much fucking better with her help.

"That's the other reason."

I start to roll over. Beyond curious to understand what she means. But she palms my bare back, her hands unbelievably soft, warming my skin. Keeping me from seeing her beautiful face. I give up and stay on my side. Unwilling to break my promise. Or make her doubt me anymore than she already does. "Other reason for what?"

"Why I'm here."

Straining to hear her whisper in the darkness, I fight every urge to turn to her. Aware of the enormity of what she's revealing. Knowing she's letting me in. Just the tiniest bit, and I can't fuck it up.

"I know how much you love your brother. You're a good man." This time it's her plump lips brushing my tattoo. Jesus Christ. "And, that's what I need in my life."

A tornado of emotions seethes in my stomach. I'm not a good man. I want to be. For her. But, it's too late. I'm a killer. I don't give a damn about the men who deserve it. But Rachael. She should have been different. She shouldn't have paid the price for my selfishness. For my dead heart.

Which beats faster, inferring the other message embedded in her admission. She needs a good man because some bastard wasn't. Motherfucker will pay once I figure out who he is and discover what he did.

For tonight, I have to let that discussion wait. I don't want her mind on any other bastard when she's in my bed. Even if all we do is hold each other. "I'll always be in your life."

She cuddles closer, her forehead rubbing up and down the nape of my neck from her nod. Content for now. Somehow I am too.