Chapter 9

Paisley

Have you ever had a moment where you thought you were invincible?

Have you looked at life and decided you weren’t gonna be the weakling anymore, that no matter what happens, you’ll be able to handle yourself 100 percent and no one will ever get over on you?

I thought I was at that point. I believed no matter what life threw at me, I would be able to take control and not be some damsel in distress. Until tonight.

I’ve had flashbacks from my past, but tonight, I felt weaker than ever. Ultimately, my mouth and attitude got me in trouble, and I wasn’t able to fight back.

I’ve been thrown for a loop so big I could have ridden a horse through it. The asshole in the parking lot affected me more than I care to admit. It scared the shit out of me, so I’m a little off my game tonight. I didn’t see the warning signings.

I can’t be too sure about anything right now. All these foreign feelings run through my body.

My heart rate hasn’t been under control since ~he~—not the asshole, the hottie—touched me. A touch I remember all too well, a sensation that has plagued my mind since waking up in the hospital.

The burning warmth heated me, and I knew I had to get away…and pronto.

Now, that I’ve been attacked and am unable to stand up for myself, he has total control.

His scent once again takes me over. Solid arms surround me, and well, I’m completely lost to the Adonis that is Zeke Matthews.

A sick feeling runs through me, the fear of losing myself, being too weak or unable to survive this…whatever this is.

I watch everything happening around me, but it is as if I am not even here—as if a stranger is in my own body, watching from the sidelines, screaming inside my own head.

Only London knows exactly what I’ve been through, to some extent. But even fingers laced with my own can’t ground me to the here and now.

It’s as if I’m watching a silent movie, everyone so animated around me, yet here I stand, flush against a man who visited me in the hospital, a man who can have any woman he desires, a God to mankind and the music industry.

Limbs fly left, right, and center…a down-home barroom brawl. I’ve been pushed behind Zeke, and London is cradling me in her arms, protecting me from what’s going on and hiding my view. When did I become this girl?

Sure, I changed when my wedding turned into a bloodbath, and I changed again when my husband decided it was okay to fuck my mom.

But one bump on the head, and I’m right back where I started when everything turned to shit.

When my daddy was taken, I never really understood. But as I stand here in the middle of a different kind of trauma, it all comes back to me.

Every last lie hits me like a ton of bricks, a sucker punch to the stomach. I close my eyes as each powerful blow just about knocks me on my ass.

Yes, I was there that day, and I was the one to pay off Daddy’s debt. I hadn’t remembered it until this moment. This one. But why? Why is all this coming to light now? It’s quite the snowball effect.

I shake my head. I don’t want these memories, don’t want to relive the pain and suffering. My emotions were switched off for a reason. I. Can’t. Handle. The. Pain.

“Pails?” London’s voice quivers again.

“I’m fine,” I snap. I don’t need anyone to know how I’m really feeling.

“C’mon, baby girl. Let’s get you out of here.” Zeke speaks with such authority, I don’t even question him.

I give London a smile and allow Zeke to lead me to wherever we’re going. But not before noticing the disappointment and hurt in London’s eyes.

I can’t think of that now. Not when Zeke’s fingers are still laced with mine and I can feel his pulse shocking his body, his adrenalin pumping its way through his veins.

He hasn’t spoken another word, and I’m having to run slightly to keep up with his long strides. Anyone watching us would know this guy is on one hell of a mission right now.

“Zeke,” I pant, but he ignores me, never once slowing until he gets to his destination.

I look up at the apartment building. It’s mine. ~How does he know where I live?~

We walk through the entrance and directly into the waiting elevator. He still hasn’t said a word or looked at me.

The metal doors close, and he punches the button for the tenth floor. He nudges me until my back is against the far side wall.

Zeke’s hands cradle either side of my thighs, pulling me up against the smooth wall and pinning me in place with his hips. His hands reach for my face as his mouth connects to mine.

I can’t get enough of the taste of his skin—salty, sweet deliciousness intoxicates me until rational thought no longer has a place in my life.

I pull my legs from around his waist to slide down the length of his body, and his breath comes out in ragged puffs.

“Darlin’, I can’t take much more.”

I don’t know if that’s a plee or a dare, but either way, I’m not finished with him. My stomach clenches. ~What the hell? ~I push the feeling behind my wall of lust.

His eyes flutter close as I slip my hand under his shirt. A sound halfway between a groan and a growl rumbles in his chest and he steps back.

My heart plummets. He doesn’t want me. Maybe he knows, or maybe he can just tell how damaged I am, but it doesn’t lessen the sting. My heart aches as I cross my arms and shoot him a glare.

I don’t know what he sees in my face, but he reaches out to touch me. I jerk away, hitting my shoulder against the wall. I don’t lift a hand to rub the spot, but God damn, it hurts.

“Paisley, I don’t wanna be something you regret in the morning.”

What a line of crap. This is the guy London warned me away from? Mr. Always Ready and Willing?

“No. It’s way better to be something I regret right now.” I raise an eyebrow and spin away before he can see my humiliation.

“Paisley—”

“Go, Zeke. Leave. I don’t want you here.” I might be more convincing had I not been trying to ride him like a rodeo horse a few minutes ago.

The doors open, then close when Zeke leaves, and I hang my head. It’s a sad day when I can’t turn on the local man-whore. I slide down to the floor, giving into my self-pity.

The chime dings to signify I have reached a floor one I have no memory of looking to get to, and the doors open. Zeke is standing in the open, blocking the doors from closing once more.

I stand, take a deep breath, and shrug like I’ve moved on from the shame of our little interlude.

“You’re attracted to who you’re attracted to. If I don’t do it for ya, it ain’t your fault,” I tell him.

“Make no mistake, sweetheart. You do it for me. Seriously.” I roll my eyes at his words, but he continues, “You’re doing it for me right now, and you haven’t even laid a hand on me.”

“Whatever. Like I said, no worries. It isn’t a big deal.” Except for being the most embarrassing moment of my most recent past.

In one easy stride, he stands close enough for me to feel the heat from his body, to smell his cologne, to see the green flecks in his bright blue eyes.

If he comes closer, there’s gonna be another humiliating event, and I can’t do anything to stop it.

He kisses me with such passion it steals my breath, and I grip his shirt. I open up to him, and his tongue starts a duel with mine. He demands my submission, and I’m too weak to protest.

He pulls me out of the metal box by my hand and takes me to the end of the hall.

I’m delirious, drunk on a kiss.

A door opens and we walk inside. He sits me on the sofa and walks off to another room. My head is spinning.

“I’m sorry.” He walks back into the room. My fingers are resting against my swollen lips. “I don’t know what came over me. I just knew I had to kiss you and then reality came in.

“You were attacked in the parking lot and I threw myself at you, no longer able to control the hunger and…well…I shit myself. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, Paisley.”

I stare open-mouthed as he leans against the windowsill. I can see a wide expanse of taut muscle under his tight shirt.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s all you got?”

I shrug. It’s all I can give. He’s turned my brain into mush, and he has made my body pulse for more.

I take two attempts to stand, as my legs are like jelly. Biting my lip, I walk toward him, my chest puffed out. I’m thankful for my wardrobe choice.

He follows me with his gaze. His eyes flick across my chest a couple of times, and his muscles tenses with each step I take.

I stand close and move my head closer to his.

“Okay,” I whisper, my lips only a breath from his ear. I nibble his earlobe, then move away.

His arms come around my waist, and he fills his palms with my ass. His mouth lowers to mine, and fireworks go off once more as we connect.

He devours me, I devour him. We’re locked in battle, both hungry for more. His fingers grip my ass, and when I moan, he bites my lip. I push closer to him, needing to meld myself into him.

His erection is firm and long. ~Oh, shit. He’s huge.~ It presses into my stomach. My hands still grip a fistful of his shirt, and our mouths continue to battle.

I love every second of it.

“Oh, baby girl,” he moans into my mouth.

“Please don’t stop,” I beg.