Chapter 19

NINETEEN

Carrying a bowl of popcorn and my apple juice, I head to the couch. It’s not a weird craving, but it’s one I’ve had for a few days.

Ty settles next to me, leaning forward to grab the remote before he turns to me. “Ready?”

I nod, my mouth already full of buttery popcorn. The corner of his lips quirks up in a boyish smile that has my stomach swooping. “What?” I mumble around a mouthful of popcorn.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. You’re cute.”

My cheeks heat like I’m a thirteen-year-old girl with my first crush all over again. But unlike that boy who seemed repulsed by my crush on him, Ty never makes me feel less than the most incredible woman he’s met. He treats me like my time is a gift to him instead of the other way around. It’s taken a lot of getting used to, but I think I’m finally starting to fully embrace all the happy feelings he makes me feel.

This is genuinely the happiest I’ve ever been in my life—and it’s a type of happiness I wasn’t sure I’d ever have.

He presses play on the movie we queued up earlier—a romantic comedy I’ve really wanted to watch—and then spreads his arm along the back of the couch, allowing me to snuggle up next to him.

A deep calm washes over me as I lean against his warm body while his fingers play with the loose strands of my hair. Ty came over right after his team meetings today. He manages to spend all his free time with me and texts me every day that he’s away, just checking in on me. It’s been a completely new experience to have a man as attentive as he is.

If I’m honest with myself, it scares me a little bit.Nothing good in my life has ever lasted, and after the last several weeks with Ty, I’m worried that this time, having the rug ripped out from under me might truly break me beyond repair. I can feel my walls crumbling with every hour we spend together. The way he kisses me on the forehead, runs his fingers throughmy hair whenever we snuggle on the couch, always has my favorite snacks on hand should I ever want them, and looks at me like I’m his whole world. It’s all eating away at any chance I had of keeping him at arm’s length.

And then there’s the sex, which is just as earth-shattering as it was that first night we spent together.

“How’d you get this scar?” he murmurs, and I glance away from the movie that I wasn’t even paying attention to and find him staring at a spot on the back of my neck, the corners of his lips turned down in a slight frown.

I brush his hand away and move my hair back to cover it. “Oh, it was nothing,” I say, forcing my gaze back to the movie, hoping he’ll take the hint and not press it.

He doesn’t.

“It looks…” he trails off and my curiosity gets the better of me. I turn my head to find him already staring at me. “My cousin tried to look like a badass one time and put a cigarette out on his pants, but they were thin and it burned through to his skin. He had a scar that looked kinda like this, but not as bad,” he finishes, his voice trailing off as his gaze moves from mine to the spot now hidden by my hair. When he looks back into my eyes, there’s something dark in his gaze that I’ve never seen from him before. His nostrils flare slightly as he growls out, low and rough, “Did someone put a cigarette out on your neck?”

I swallow thickly, my mouth dry and my heart racing. No one’s ever asked me outright, and I typically wear my hair down so it’s never noticeable. On the off chance I wear it up, I use makeup to hide it. Makeup can cover a multitude of sins.

He cups my face, and tears burn behind my eyes at his gentle touch when it looks like an inferno is raging in his eyes. “Who? Who fucking hurt you like that?”

My nose burns as I fight back the tears with everything I’m worth, but it’s no use as they escape silently down my face, giving away the pain I try so hard to keep buried.

His anger fades as he shakes his head. “Precious,” he whispers, and then he’s pulling me into his lap, holding me tight to him, grounding me with his strength and comfort.

We sit there like that for a long time before I get my tears under control and find my voice. “Tell me about your family,” I say, my voice low but pleading.

“Will you tell me about yours?”

My heart clenches as that old familiar pain flares. “I don’t have a family.”

His arms around me tighten. “Yes, you do. You have me. I’m your family now.”

I close my eyes, wanting that to be true more than I’ve wanted anything in years. “Please, Ty. Tell me about your family, your friends, your childhood. Don’t make me talk about mine. Not yet.”

“I hate that someone hurt you,” he whispers against my hair and then lets out a heavy sigh. “Well, I told you I have two brothers, Tanner and Taron. My mom really loved the idea of us all having T names. My dad’s name is Tim and her name is Tina. We’ve always been close and played a lot of sports growing up in Vancouver. Tanner got interested in football, so like a typical little brother, I followed along. He plays for another team down south.” He says it with a smile in his voice that has a small one gracing my lips. “Taron, however, fell in love with hockey, and he plays for a pro team out east.”

“Wow, three boys and you all went into professional sports. Your parents must be so proud.”

“Oh yeah. But my mom won’t hesitate to put us in our place if she feels our egos are getting too big.” He chuckles and the sound fills me with warmth, chasing away the darkness that surrounded me when he mentioned my scar.“My dad is a big softie.”

“Kinda like you?” I ask.

He pulls away from me so he can look at my face and arches his brow. “You know there ain’t nothing soft about me. Feel these abs.”

My smile grows and then so does his, his eyes softening around the edges with that look of affection I’m quickly getting addicted to. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. He leans forward, putting his forehead against mine. “I hope you’ll trust me enough one day to tell me your story—all the parts, good, bad, and ugly. I want to know you , all of you.”

“Some of those parts might be too ugly,” I whisper. You might never be able to love me when you learn no one else ever has.

He shakes his head, his face more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “There’s no way, Lex. The ugliest part of your history doesn’t change how beautiful and incredible you are. You’ve survived the ugly and still shine.”

My breathing turns shallow as I stare at this handsome man who grew up in a home with happy siblings and two loving parents who would do anything for him. I never want to see the pity in his eyes when he learns how truly horrible and utterly lonely my life was. Our childhoods couldn’t be any more different.

But it’s the certainty shining in his eyes that has my heart racing for a completely different reason. I don’t know what miracle brought this man into my life, but I don’t want to regret a single second with him. Leaning forward, I place my lips against his. His hands tighten on my waist, shifting my body over his erection, and even with the material of my clothes in between us, my clit throbs. A moan escapes from deep in my throat, and that’s all it takes for him to let out a groan and slide his fingers into my hair, holding my mouth against his as he takes over the kiss.

My fingers grasp at the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up and revealing those hard abs he joked about earlier. I slide my nails down them, causing him to groan again, and then he’s flipping us over so I’m under him on the couch. He kisses my jaw and then my neck, sucking slightly and making my back arch as shivers of desire spread through my body.

“Goddamn, I love watching you get worked up. You’re so sexy,” he says, his voice deep and ragged. He pulls my shirt up my body and over my head and then tosses it to the side. Before I fully lie back down, his hand is at my back, unhooking my bra until I’m topless beneath him. His hungry gaze eats up my exposed body before he dips his head and takes one of my overly sensitive nipples into his mouth. He doesn’t bite or nibble because he knows they’re tender, but he does suck them gently. All the while, his darkened gaze is locked on mine, watching my every reaction—the way my breath hitches, my eyes dilate, and my nipples pebble until they’re hard nubs. He moves to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. While his mouth is busy at my breast, his hands pull down my yoga pants and underwear until I’m completely naked and bared for him.

He sits back on his heels, staring at my no-doubt soaked core.

“Ty,” I plead. “Please.”

His hungry eyes meet mine. “Lexi, I’ll give you anything you want. Literally anything,” he says, his voice hoarse with desire but filled with sincerity.

You. I want you to never leave me.

My greatest wish fills my heart, but never leaves my lips. Instead, I say, “I need you to ease my ache.”

He stares at me for a moment longer, like he’s trying to determine if that’s really all. “Precious, I’m going to make you ache for me until you feel like you’ll explode if you don’t come before I ease it.”

My jaw drops at his words, my clit throbbing from the desire in his eyes as he lowers his mouth to where I need him most. He swirls that wicked tongue of his over my clit, teasing me relentlessly before sliding one finger at an unbearably slow pace inside me.

“Ty,” I moan, gripping his hair in my hands.

“That’s it, Mama. Say my name like that while I worship your body the way it deserves.”

God, this man.

I can barely think with him teasing me with soft swirls of his tongue while that one finger slides in and out so slowly it makes me want to scream. He knows what I need. We’ve been having sex regularly since my horny hormone brain took over. I tighten my grip on his hair and attempt to rock my hips to get his mouth to move faster, but all that does is cause him to remove his finger from inside me and hold my thighs apart with both hands while he licks me.

“Fuck, you taste delicious.” He inhales like he’s savoring every aspect of eating me out, his eyes closing as a look of bliss spreads across his face. He opens his eyes, and the burning desire in them tightens my chest. His mouth descends back over my clit, and he sucks and flicks it with renewed vigor, never breaking eye contact. When my orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, it’s not from the ministrations on my clit but the look in his eyes. The look I want to memorize and hold on to forever.

The look that says I’m his . He’s claiming me. And God, how badly I want that to be true.