My eyes nearly rolled back at the contact. “Yes,” I hissed, pressing my hips into him, into his touch. He shoved his thigh between mine and his hand up my shirt, cupping my breast over my lace bra.
“I’m sorry. I was in my head, and I shouldn’t have been,” he said, pushing a finger inside me.
I gasped, my hand locking around his forearm, savoring the strength of it as he began finger fucking me. “You—oh, fuck, Hayes—you don’t have to apologize for being in your head,” I rasped, my clit aching for friction. “I just need you to remember that I’m here—” He pinched my nipple through the lace, causing me to moan. “Fuck!”
“I know you’re here,” he replied, his breaths ragged as he brought my hand to his hard crotch. “I just don’t like seeing you in danger.”
“Good thing I have my own personal Superman,” I teased, cupping him and squeezing. His finger stilled inside me, my walls fluttering around it.
“Fucking hell, woman. You undo me,” he growled, pulling his hands away from me.
Before I could even grasp what was happening, he pulled me away from the wall, spun me, pressed my head to it and yanked my hips out. I whimpered as he pulled my leggings down to my knees. “Fuck, that cunt is soaked,” he noted.
I needed him.
I needed him to stretch me.
“Hayes,” I begged, “please.”
His hand at the side of my head dropped down to my neck, his fingers gently pressing into my skin as I heard him shove his sweats down. “You forgive me?” he asked as he dragged the tip of his cock over my clit.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Mr. Perfect,” I snapped, frustrated and horny. “Get inside me. Let me feel you.”
“Why?” he taunted, chuckling.
“Because I fucking missed you, you asshole!” I growled, moving my hips. He spanked me then, and I cried out another plea. “Fuck me, please!”
He obliged, slamming into my pussy, not stopping until I was full of him, his balls against my clit. When we were connected, everything felt right. I gasped, my thighs shaking as I pressed my ass back against him, needing him closer. He fisted my hair and yanked me to him, forcing my back to arch and my hands to brace on a wall.
His lips were at my ear then. “This isn’t our happy ending, Temper. This is our beginning,” he said.
And in my heart, I knew it was the truth.
Epilogue
Hayes
June.
My sister’s stunned silence was something I never expected. I stole a glance at Margo, who was head banging in her tiny kitchen to a metal band she’d discovered two days ago. She’dalready listened to both of their albums and said we had to go to their concert in Seattle at the end of October. Though I had no interest in this band, I had every intention of making her happy. Therefore, I bought two front-row tickets as a late graduation gift.
She was officially done with school, and I’d never forget the bright smile on her face as she accepted her diploma, shaking Professor Ashley’s hand, her shoulders squared and proud. The entire family had been there, the Buoy and Rossy’s had closed for the day, and Jake had brought a damn blow horn. When she left the stage, she didn’t return to her seat. Instead, she ran straight into Rossy’s open arms. I watched with pride as the old man hugged her tightly, voicing his own pride to her, and before she ran back to her seat, she hooked her arms around my neck and demanded I kiss her.
So I did.
I would be spending the rest of my days kissing my angry girl. Anytime she needed me to.
“Dela?” I called, turning to the window. The summer was high, shining down the Columbia River and the ocean beyond. The sunlight danced on top of the waves, seagulls flying above, the fishermen on the docks arguing with each other over bait. In the parking lot, Joey was standing close to Rachel, his hand on her cheek as she stared up at him with hope shining in her eyes.
“I’m here,” my sister whispered.
“Are you good with those terms?” I pressed.
After things settled down, Margo probed me about my family, and without hesitation, I gave her the truth. My father hadn’t been a good man, husband, or father. He was a narcissist, and after twenty years of dealing with his shit, taking the brunt of his abusive words, I left home. Aside from the handful of times I’d come back to visit, I never stayed. Dad and I would clash, and the last time, he swung at me. Though he didn’t get very far withhis fist, the act of my own father trying to harm me was enough for me to cut the cord for good. Dela, my sweet baby sister, had been blind to his lies and manipulations, and there was nothing I could do to get her to see the truth. She wanted us to be a family again but failed to realize that we had never been a happy family. She and I had been dealt a bad hand, and I’d chosen to leave the game. He would have to push her to her limits, and until that happened, until she saw the truth, all I could do was wait. I’d been preparing for that day for quite some time, but it hadn’t come yet. Our father’s talons were deep into her. Still, I loved her. Which is why it didn’t take much convincing from Margo to let Dela back into my life—with boundaries, of course.
“Yes,” she answered faintly before clearing her throat. “Yes, I’m good with those terms.”
“Great,” I said, looking over my shoulder at Margo. She was shaking her ass to a guitar solo while straining the pasta noodles. “I was thinking I could fly you and Lucy out for the Fourth of July. You two could meet Margo, see the new offices, and watch the fireworks at Gray’s place.”