Chapter 9

April

Michael must actually be an angel. Why else would he be doing this for me, and Amelia? How did he even know about my sister when I kept that from him during our wonderful night together?

Trying to hide my frazzled state, I swiftly sign Amelia out of school, pretending to have a doctor's appointment as the reason. It's unprecedented and when she appears in the office, she's clearly confused and a little frightened.

"What's happening?" she asks, clutching my hand.

"Everything's fine," I assure her. Oh God, how to explain? "I met someone and he's going to help us get away from Uncle Harris." I think. I hope. I pray.

Once we're outside and she sees Michael resting against his car with his strong arms crossed over his broad chest, she relaxes a little. He looks like a warrior, and I want more than anything to tell her about him knocking Uncle Harris to the ground with one blow, but I feel like that can wait.

"We can trust him?" she asks, but it's barely a question.

Michael oozes confidence and strength from every pore, and his smile is warm and reassuring as I introduce them. My little sister tenses up again when we pull up outside our apartment building, but I tell her it's only to grab a few things. Neither one of us has much to begin with, and we hurriedly fill a few plastic grocery bags with some clothes our toothbrushes, and shampoo. Amelia grasps her little handheld gaming system she wants to bring, but I'm sure it was stolen along with almost everything else in this nightmare home of ours, so I make her leave it behind.

"I'll get you a new one," I promise. "Same with your phone. Leave it here so he can't track us."

A ripple of something I don't quite recognize goes down my spine. Is it hope? I can almost picture myself getting a job, making friends, and walking freely down the sidewalk without a time limit on how long I can be out.

I can see she's upset about losing the lifeline to the friends she made at school, but it will all work out. It has to.

"Once I get a job, that'll be the first thing we replace."

"What's happening?" she asks again as we run down the stairs, both of us too impatient to wait for the rickety old elevator.

"I don't know," I admit. "But it's going to be better."

I hope so anyway. That's about all I really have right now, but it feels good. It feels even better when Michael takes my hand in the car on the way to his place. But why is he doing this? Responsibility? Pity? It's surely not what's welling up in my heart every time I glance at him, what's been stewing since I made him leave me on my stoop. It can't be love, but if it gets Amelia and me our freedom, I'll take it. Even if my heart ends up broken at the end.

Once in his little apartment, he orders pizza and sets up his laptop to play movies for Amelia in a bedroom that I'm pretty sure was a closet; with a camp bed crammed in and a chair in place of a bedside table.

After we eat, Amelia settles in her new room and calls me in, a worried look back on her face now that the pizza is all gone and she has nothing left to distract her from the strangeness of the situation.

"What's he going to do when we have to go home?" she asks. "He's going to be furious." Her voice is low, but Michael overhears and sticks his head in.

"You don't have to worry about your uncle anymore," he tells her. "I'll make sure he never gets near you ever again." Her answering smile is tremulous but I can tell she believes him. He slumps against the doorframe. "I don't suppose either of you has a passport?"

I tell him no, and Amelia cowers against the wall, waiting for the inevitable outburst now that we've disappointed him. I know exactly how she feels because I get the same way around Uncle Harris, who hates being told no for any reason, and it's usually answered with a slap or a shove. It's hard to relax around a person like that, but with Michael, I have no fear. He's nothing like Uncle Harris. He'd never hurt us.

"No worries," he says, leaning back out of the tiny room to give Amelia space to recognize what I already am sure of. "We'll figure it out. You still don't need to worry about him anymore, okay, Amelia?"

She nods and plops her headphones on to start her movie. As soon as I see the opening scene on the laptop, I wave at her and close the door so it's just Michael and me in the living area. The second we're finally alone, I pounce on him. I want to show him how grateful I am, and I just plain want him. The last week has been torture, trying to fall asleep each night, knowing Uncle Harris's auction was looming. I never want another man to erase the memory of Michael's touch. Especially not those awful men that were waiting at the motel.

Now I can make new memories. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body against his, feeling the hard planes of his chest and sliding my fingers through his long hair. I feel his cock rising against my belly and moan as I try to pull his head down for the kiss I need so badly.

But he pulls back, looking down at me with concern in his deep blue eyes. "Don't you want me?" I ask, pushing harder against the rod between us.

He groans. "You can't imagine how much. But not if you're only trying to repay me."

"Oh my God, Michael," I say, impatience making me tug on his hair. "I haven't been thinking of anything else since you dropped me off."

He leans closer, relief flooding his face, then his brows furrow. "I never should have done that. What if—"

I shake my head. "We're here now. That's all that matters." I untangle my fingers from his hair and take his hand, guiding it to my core. "No. This is all that matters right now. Feel how wet I am for you."

With a growl, he pushes my skirt up and plunges his hand between my thighs. That sensation I've been craving rushes up my belly and down my legs as his fingers find my swollen nub through my panties. His palm slides further and presses flat against my pussy, the gentle, teasing pressure making me writhe with his touch.

"Okay, I believe you," he says, chuckling right before he claims my mouth in the kiss I've been about to beg for.

"Good," I murmur, reaching for the button of his jeans. "Now I need to feel this."

As soon as I get his pants open, I reach in and wrap my fingers around his thick, smooth shaft, moaning against his lips when I feel the moisture at the tip.

"I like when you're not shy," he tells me, looking down as I stroke his cock. "I like that even more. Damn it, April. I might not make it inside you."

I take my hand away but give him a teasing smile as I pull him to the couch. "I can't wait much longer. It already feels like a lifetime that we've been apart."

"Never again," he tells me, sweeping his hand behind my back and leaning me backward. "Never, ever again."

I close my eyes as he pulls my top over my head and pushes my skirt down my thighs. I wish his words were true, but I have no idea how long this will last. All I can do is enjoy this moment. And I am enjoying it. Very much.

When his fingers brush my needy clit, I sigh gustily and he presses his lips to mine with a laugh. "You can't scream, remember? Not this time, I'm afraid."

I glance at the other door and feel a blush popping up my cheeks. "You make me lose my mind," I tell him, now worried Amelia will come out at any second. "Hurry up and get that big cock of yours inside me before she walks in on us."

He freezes for a second and I'm afraid he'll change his mind, so I drop and wrap my lips around his cock, sucking him deep into my mouth. I slide back and roll my tongue all around his dripping tip, then guide his hand between my thighs.

"Feel how much I need you, Michael."

His fingers slide under my panties and deep inside me. We both sigh. "God, I love how wet you get," he says, sitting on the couch with his erect cock waving high above his lap.

"Only for you," I tell him as he takes my hand and guides me to straddle him.

"That's right," he tells me, ripping another pair of panties off of me. "You're mine, April."

"Show me," I say, moaning as I rub my slippery opening against his cock. "Show me right now."

He grips my hips and steadies me, lowering me slowly onto his thick rod. I take him in, gasping as he stretches my pussy. I have to hold on to his shoulders to keep from pitching forward. The sensation is intense, and so, so good. With one arm wrapped around my back, he leans back with a smile.

"You show me this time, little one."

I feel giddy and powerful as I ride his cock, taking him deep and then sliding up. Watching his face as he struggles to maintain his tenuous grip on control drives me wild, and soon I'm bouncing hard and fast. I can barely hold on to him and he grips my waist and flips me onto my back on the couch. Only a blink passes before he sinks deep inside my pussy again and he growls against my neck.

"You feel so good, April. So damn good."

Before I can answer, he finds my clit and that perfect burst overtakes everything. I wail, and he grabs my head and pushes my face against his shoulder as he laughs at my forgetfulness. But only for a second, because as soon as he drives me over the edge I feel his body jerk against me, his roar muffled in the couch cushions beside us.

It's a long time before either of us can speak, but we move around until we're side by side, crammed onto the couch together. He wedges his arm under my head, and softly promises he'll get up and pull out the bed after he catches his breath.

A few minutes later his eyes close and his chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm that lulls me to sleep alongside him, completely content for the first time in my life.