Turner shakes his head slowly. “He’s represented a few low-level dealers and a few criminals with flights of fancy about their own place in the world, but that’s about it. The only power he has is in his head.”
My shoulders slump as I look down at the floor. “I’m a fucking moron,” I mutter to myself.
“No,” Turner barks and I jump slightly, not because I’m scared, but because the venom in his voice takes me by surprise. “You’re not a moron. We’ve already been over this.” The look he gives me has my lips clamping shut and cutting off whatever protest I was about to lodge.
We have already been over this.
I’m tired of going over the same ground which is littered with self-recrimination. It’s exhausting. And I’ve been doing it for so damn long.
“You need to know something else.” His voice softens as if it will lessen the impact of whatever he’s about to say; my gut is screaming at me, and I try to mentally brace myself. “He tooka leave of absence from his job and Whiskey tracked him to the Nasvhille airport where he rented a car.”
My knees go weak and my entire body buckles. But Turner is there to keep me upright.
“No,” I whisper as my eyes fill with tears. I swear every scar on my body, the ones he put there, throb with the impending confrontation.
Was I really in the fucking shower trying to convince myself it wasn’t that bad? That he was just trying to scare me and wouldn’t really come after me?
“No,” my voice is filled with pain.
Turner wraps his arms around me and pulls me flush against his chest. My forehead rests there and, in the safety of his embrace, I allow myself to fall apart. Again.
The tears come fast and race down my cheeks as fear grips my heart and makes my chest ache. He holds me steady, his arms strong and sure. There is no hesitation in the way he holds me.
“I’ve got you, Angel,” he murmurs the words against the top of my head. “We’ll find him. The moment he steps foot in town, we’ll know.”
“I’m not worth it,” I gasp the words, terror filling every syllable along with the hope that he believes them, takes them, and runs with them. “I need to go. You need to let me go.”
Because nothing good can come of me being here. Of me bringing a monster to the gates.
His hands are unyielding as his fingers dive into my hair, and he shakes me gently while pulling me just far enough away fromhis body for my towel to fall free. Because I wasn’t holding it, I was holding him. “There,” he growls, “that’s better.”
“Turner,” his name on my lips is almost a moan, almost a plea, almost an admonishment.
“I’ve got you now, Graycie-girl,” for the first time the endearment sounds like a threat.
My nipples harden, exposed to the cooler air and the nearness of him. Unavoidable. Inevitable.
“And I’m going to fuck those thoughts right out of your head,” he growls.
Then we’re moving. I’m laid out on the bed underneath him, the roughness of his jeans against my thighs as my legs drop open for him. His cut feels like a hiss against my skin, a skimming and a catch, a hook, a desire.
“Take my cock out.” His words are a demand, and my hands are scrambling to comply before I even realize what I need to do.
I fumble his belt and every single fucking button of his button-fly jeans. Because of-fucking-course he has a button fly. I’m only able to push his jeans down just enough for his cock to spring free.
My eyes widen when I realize he’s not wearing anything underneath. Commando. Wow. The smirk on his face is pure fucking temptation.
“Line me up, Graycie-girl.”
I grip the base of his shaft and squeeze. The groan he lets out has my pussy gushing with arousal. “Sexy,” I mumble under my breath.
But he hears it, a rumble of laughter coming from his chest. My nipples strain to get closer, to feel, to beg.
The moment the crown of his cock kisses my entrance, he punches his hips forward and fills me with a rough thrust. My nails dig into his hips, feeling him cover me, feeling him own me. It’s everything.
“Feel that? The way your sweet pussy opens for me? Stretches around me?” His questions, his words, are rough and hypnotic.
I think I nod. I think I beg.