Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Law

The gym was quickly losing its appeal. Holding Shepperd in my arms felt so right. Such a perfect physical fit. I loved the way she felt so small and fragile, but I knew she was anything but. Also, there was the minor problem that we were blocking people from their food orders, and I didn’t miss the looks she already got when she walked up to the counter in the first place.

The woman was a head-turner. It was that simple. Even though her face was completely free of makeup, and her golden hair was piled in some messy nest on top of her head, she was every American boy’s wet dream. An image of the woman in a pair of short cut-offs, sexy cowboy boots, and a vest with nothing else made my dick swell. She was my perfect image of the girl next door.

With my arm around her waist, I tugged her out of the way before the hangry patrons turned feral.

“As much as I want to keep holding you, there are some restless people behind you,” I muttered beside her ear. At the same time, I was mentally celebrating that she didn’t shy away from the public display of affection. I was a hands-on kind of guy. Always had been. Physical touch was the most satisfying way to express how I felt about someone, and that was our first public go at it and it felt really good. It felt right.

I wanted to check with her, though, to be sure I didn’t overstep. “Thank you,” I said quietly as we headed toward the exit.

“You’re welcome?” she asked while smiling through the question. “For what, exactly?”

“It was presumptuous to just touch you like that in public. I’m grateful you didn’t mind it happening,” I explained with a grin.

She looked up at me for a long second and then treated me to the most beautiful, genuine smile. I’d seen the fake one she used as a weapon, and I’d seen the equally fake one she used as a shield. This smile was neither of those.

“No.” She shook her head slowly. “I didn’t mind that at all.” An unexpected giggle burst out of her as we left the shop. “I think the girl behind the counter just had kittens, though.”

I tilted my head with confusion, and she went on. “She was checking you out. Big time. When you hugged me, she was giving me the death stare over your shoulder. Quite entertaining, actually.”

“What’s this?” I teased. “Feeling territorial?” And why did that thrill me instead of freak me the fuck out like it normally did? Thoughts for another time.

“There are times being part of one gender or the other is downright embarrassing, you know?” Shepperd asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes the way women behave, especially to each other.” She paused. After a shrug, she added, “I don’t know, it makes me not want to be in the club I guess.” She looked up at me again, and the vulnerability on her expression sucked the air out of my lungs.

Abruptly, I stopped walking and pulled her into my embrace again. Yeah, I could totally get used to holding this little doll.

“Maybe we should start our own club?” I offered with a slow smile. “We’re the only two members, so we make all the rules.”

She leaned back in my arms to meet my gaze. “I like the way you think, mister.” Her smile suddenly faded, and she looked away.

“What? What just happened?” I asked quietly.

“I just realized…I don’t even know your last name. And my bad if you’ve told me because I definitely don’t remember you doing so.” She looked away again, and I squeezed her closer to my body.

“It’s Masterson.” I said it with the likeness to a mike drop. This was the part where things always got weird with new chicks. I watched as the facts lined up in her mind, and she swallowed so hard I saw her throat constrict.

“Masterson? Why does that sound familiar?”

She was either doing a great job covering her natural reaction or was one of the five people in the city who didn’t know of my family’s fortune and fame.

“Let’s have the rest of this conversation over dinner tonight,” I said as an invitation.

“Are you asking me out?” she asked with a mischievous smile. I really enjoyed this playful side of her. “Or telling me what to do?” By the way the temperature dropped around the woman, I knew what my answer better be if I had any hope of seeing her tonight.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? My mother would smack me in the back of the head for acting so presumptuous.” With formality completely unfitting of our surroundings I asked, “Would you do me the honor of your company at my home this evening? I’d be happy to cook, or we can order in,” I offered with a sexy smile.

“I would love that. Any girl who turns down your cooking is a damn fool,” she said, and I held my tongue regarding how little she ate the last time I cooked for her. If that was how she dug into a meal she enjoyed, I’d hate to see the effort she gave toward something unpalatable.

“Perfect!” I grabbed her hand to hold while we walked across the strip mall’s parking lot to our gym. “Let’s get a workout in and then hit the grocery store,” I said, excited to spend the afternoon with her too. “If you’re up for that?”

“I would love that, but I’ll have to go home to clean up. I don’t want to sit in my sweaty gym clothes all evening.”

“You’re welcome to shower at my place after the market. Up to you, but the offer stands. I don’t want to be pushy here.” I didn’t mean a word of it. I totally wanted to be pushy. I wanted to tell her she was spending the day and night with me, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer. Wisely, I held my tongue.

“Okay, let’s see how it plays out. Fair enough?” she asked as I held the door open for her and followed her into the gym.

“Perfect. Now let’s get this done. I’m on legs today,” I said as we checked in by scanning our membership cards.

“I think I’m going to take it easy today. Maybe some cardio and floor work. I had a terrible night’s sleep, again, and the morning from hell with my parents. If I didn’t want to get out of that damn house so badly, I probably wouldn’t even be here today,” she rambled as we walked through the massive fitness center.

That was the most personal information she’d freely offered up—well, ever.

“Do you want to talk about it? Get it off your mind?” How did I get it through to her that I was a safe space? That she could vent to me as easily as she could tease me.

Time. It was probably the answer to a lot of things. Especially in a new relationship. I just needed to work harder at being patient. It had never been my strong suit, but over time I would prove that I was present and interested in what she had going on. Eventually, it would be the norm.

Well, look at me thinking mature thoughts.

Thoughts beyond the quickest route to get into a girl’s panties. With age really did come wisdom. I also knew that telling her repeatedly that she could confide in me wouldn’t make her trust me any sooner. That was a place she had to arrive on her own time.

I just had to continually remind myself to be a patient man. The reward would be worth it.

My workout went by in a flash knowing I’d have my hands on her again afterward. Every time I searched the weight room space for her, I’d find those incredible blue eyes watching me too. It reminded me of the months we spent playing I Spy with each other before I finally asked her to hang out. During those weeks, seeing her in the tiny little clothes she wore to work out was the highlight of my existence. I lost count of the number of times I had to jerk off thinking about her little ass in those neon-green shorts. Definitely my favorite of all the ones she wore.

We left the gym and headed to our cars. While working out, I came up with a simple menu for dinner and a mental list of things I needed to pick up. We agreed on stopping at the grocery store on the route to my house, and I couldn’t resist tugging her close before we parted ways to drive our separate cars.

“I’m sweaty,” she said. “Fair warning.”

Twelve typical guy comments about how I’d like to make her sweat flashed through my mind before I spit out, “I don’t mind.” So, fine, not my smoothest line of the bunch, but I was a little scrambled by the woman.

I was thankful she had pulled on a loose pair of joggers before we left the gym. If she strutted around the market in those little shorts the way she did the gym, I’d be in a fistfight before we made it out of the produce aisle.

We chatted as we walked the aisles, adding items to the cart as we went.

“So what’s the longest relationship you’ve been in?” I asked while she was reading the label on a box of crackers. “And what are you looking for? Do you have food allergies?”

“No, I can eat pretty much anything. I was looking to see how many carbs were in a serving. I hate working out, believe it or not.” She paused a moment and looked up from the package to catalog my reaction to that statement. “If I have to spend all that time doing something I don’t love, I’ll be damned if I’m going to undo the hard work with a bad food choice.”

“Fair enough.” It was just a hunch, but I assumed she wasn’t looking for the typical automatic response about not having to watch her weight.

Although, when she finally finished examining every detail on the damn box, she put the crackers back on the shelf and started off down the aisle. I grabbed the box she just replaced and tossed it in the cart.

She looked back with a frown and pointed to the cart. “I decided against those.”

“Do you mind if I get them? They look good. Love salty snacks.”

She shrugged and started walking again. “What’s the longest relationship you’ve been in?” she asked instead of answering the question herself.

After thinking for a moment I said, “Probably my high school sweetheart. We were together over a year, but since then nothing more than a few months. Maybe four, tops. What about you?”

“I’ve never really dated the same guy for long. A few dates and I cut bait typically.”

“So am I defying the odds here?” I asked, making it obvious with my expression that I was teasing.

She smiled then too. “Definitely an outlier.”

We finished getting what we needed plus two bottles of wine. She put on an adorable pout when I refused to let her pay. If the girl had a clue how much money I had, she’d know how ridiculous she was being. Instead of explaining things in the middle of the checkout line, I stole a quick kiss from her irresistible lips and guided her toward the door with my free hand. The large reusable bag we brought in from my trunk was full and slung over my opposite shoulder.

“At least let me carry something, then,” she insisted, and I shook my head.

“Darling, this bag weighs more than you do, you’d topple right over,” I said playfully, but she flashed a glare my way. Luckily, it was gone as soon as it appeared, but I wanted to smack my forehead for saying something so dumb. I didn’t want her to think I was bagging on her weight, so I rambled on.

“Plus, my mother raised us to be gentlemen. She’d smack me upside the head if I did something so rude.”

As we strolled to our cars, she asked, “So you grew up with nine other kids in the house. What was that like? It must have been chaos at times.” She smiled as though imagining the circus that was my family home.

“There were times it was pretty crazy. But there’s a big span of years between the ten of us, so some of my siblings were already out on their own when the youngest few were born.” The usual smile that took over my face when I spoke about my brothers and sisters appeared.

“Do you all get together regularly?” Shepperd asked as I loaded the bag in my trunk.

“For holidays at least. My mom insists we all spend Christmas at the family’s place up north and now that my oldest sister and my brother Jake have daughters, I’m sure she’ll go all out.”

Shepperd muttered to herself, “Jake Masterson… Why does that sound so familiar?”

“He’s a bigshot architect here in town. He actually uses Jacob Cole for his work, though.”

“He designed that new building for Sebastian Shark, right? The one downtown?”

“He sure did. He’s busier than ever now that the project has wrapped up and everyone sees how talented he is. How do you know about Shark?”

She dismissed my question with a wave of her hand. “Kind of a long story. But that’s so cool, and that explains why your name sounded so familiar.”

I closed the trunk and pulled her close to me. “Okay, you want to follow me to my place or are you headed home first?”

“I think I’ll take you up on the shower offer when we get there. If you’re still good with that plan.”

“Works for me,” I replied with a quick peck. “See you in a few minutes.” I released her before she felt the way my body responded to holding her close combined with mental images of her in my shower—or, even better, joining her there.

We worked together to put the groceries away, and I couldn’t help but notice the way we moved around my kitchen with ease. Shepperd was smart and independent and wasn’t the kind of girl who needed explicit instructions on every task.

I asked her to deal with the produce while I got us drinks, and she set about the task without another question. After handing her a gin and tonic and watching with rapt fascination as she took the first sip, I pressed her against the island and kissed her. Her lips tasted crisp from the drink, and I pushed in for more.

When we parted, I held her close and drowned in the depth of her blue eyes. “I like you here. In my home. It feels good,” I admitted and hoped it wasn’t too much. If the truth scared her, I’d dial it back, but something about this woman made me want to open my soul for her to see all its parts.

“Mmmm, I think you’re right. It feels really nice to be here with you,” she replied. “Thank you for inviting me over.”

I didn’t really have more to offer to the conversation, but I was quickly getting addicted to kissing her. Touching her.

We kissed a little more before she pulled away and said, “Will you direct me to the shower? I’ll feel so much better once I’ve freshened up.”

After I got her set up in one of the guest bathrooms, I went back to the kitchen to marinate the meat we were having for dinner. The recipe was simple to throw together and I had just returned the meat to the refrigerator to tenderize when I sensed Shepperd behind me. She moved like a quiet little mouse, so I didn’t hear her, but I felt her energy in the room before I turned around.

“How was it?” I asked and nearly stuttered on the words when I saw her. Her hair was damp and in a long, loose braid over one shoulder. Her milky skin was fresh and dewy, and she looked so incredibly young. I had laid out an old concert T-shirt that was soft and worn and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms that completely swallowed her tiny frame.

“Showers are one of my favorite things. I could stand there for a full hour and not even realize how much time passed. And that shower in there…” She thumbed over her shoulder toward the ensuite she used. “Well, that was magnificent. Are all your bedrooms and bathrooms that luxurious?”

“Would you like a tour?” I asked and immediately wondered if getting her near my own bed would be a mistake. At the very least, it would be a monumental test of my will.

But when she let out a delighted little squeal, the plan was solidified. Playfully, I offered my bent arm for her to clasp like we were setting off on a leisurely stroll.

I placed my hand on top of hers where her delicate fingers clutched the crook of my arm. She had already seen the kitchen and living room, so I guided her toward the master suite. Beating down every thought of sweeping her into my arms and stalking down that same hallway, I rambled nervously about the art I’d hung recently and the woman who created the lively piece.

Shep stopped to stare at the painting for a long moment but didn’t say a word. Finally, I asked her what she was thinking while studying the image. The breath was knocked from my lungs when she turned to me, quickly dashing tears from her cheeks.

“It’s so…so…incredible. There are so many things to look at individually, like here”—she motioned to a section of the art—“and here. But then it’s something completely different when you look at it as a whole. You know?” She looked back and forth between the painting and me and waited for my response.

“I know exactly what you mean. That’s what I loved so much about it too. From the first moment I saw it in the gallery. And now, every time I look at it, I swear I find a new detail to marvel at. She’s really a gifted painter.”

“Wow. I’ll say. There’s so much emotion captured here.” She stared at the painting again and finally asked, “Do you have other pieces by this same artist?”

“No, this was my first of hers. But now that I know how talented she is, I will definitely be looking for others. As you’ve probably noticed, I have a lot of wall space to fill.”

We continued through the hall and into my bedroom. I made my bed every morning out of habit from childhood. It was always something my mother insisted we did ourselves. We had plenty of staff in our home, but she encouraged us to take pride in our own spaces. The message reached home for some of us, but a few of my siblings were complete slobs. Now, they had their own homes and armies of help to clean up after their careless habits. I just couldn’t live that way.

“I appreciate how tidy you are,” Shepperd said with a little sly smile. “This space is so calming and relaxing. I think I can picture you in here after a long day, just relaxing and thinking.”

“You’re exactly right. This is where I go right when I come home. I want to get some sort of sofa or something for over here”—I motioned to the empty corner of the room—“but I’m having a hard time finding just what I want.”

“Well, it may be forward of me to offer this, but if you ever want company or a second opinion while furniture shopping, I love decorating. Well, at least in my mind I do.” She gave a sweet little shrug like she was embarrassed about what she had so honestly offered.

I turned to her and pulled her up against my body with two hands on her hips. The woman was so small, I could move her around with little effort.

“I would love that,” I said sincerely. But now, holding her so close, the last thing I was thinking about was furniture shopping. I bent over her slowly, making sure she didn’t get spooked. That last episode was still too fresh in my mind.

“I really want to kiss you,” I said, my voice low and resonant.

Her huge, beguiling eyes gave me permission to dip closer. I continued the slow advance until our hungry lips met. This woman was magic and tumult and measured energy in an entrancing little package. How were so many big emotions contained in such a small body?

Unleashing her passion and spirit quickly became my end goal. I knew in the depths of my soul, and possibly my heart, that Shepperd Farsay had so much more to give of herself…if she would just let down her guard and let me see all of her.

In my arms, her body relaxed in increments. Slowly, she melted into me and surely felt my mounting desire now pressed between us. But I continued to remind myself to go slowly and carefully. Respectfully. I could be a patient man when focused and motivated, and she deserved those things from me. From everyone, really, and I had a distinct feeling she wasn’t getting many of her emotional needs met by the other people in her life.

That was okay. I could be the things she needed. There was a moment while we kissed that I wondered where all these noble, considerate thoughts were coming from. I was a pretty typical guy usually. Satisfaction, gratification, and release were the main objectives of my actions and efforts. But in that uncharacteristic moment, Shepperd’s tentative touch made me want to do better. Be better.

We kissed for a few minutes, and my body grew restless. I wanted to playfully scoop her into my arms and stalk toward the bed. There were a million fantasies playing out in my busy mind until I finally broke our connection.

“Christ, girl,” I rasped with my forehead pressed to hers. “We need to relax for a minute or I’m going to do something stupid again.”

She stared up at me for a long moment while clutching my hands in hers.

“Can we talk about that?” She motioned through the air in a random gesture, and I grinned. I liked that I was becoming familiar with her little quirks, and adding to her verbal dialogue with quick, choppy hand motions was my favorite. “About what happened the other night?”

“I would like that. Want to sit in here or go back out to the living room?”

“Here is fine. I like being in your space. Probably more than I should.”

“I like having you here too,” I replied, hoping it would put her at ease to know the feeling was mutual. “Probably more than I should.”

We sat on the edge of the bed at first, but then I scooted back against the mountain of throw pillows against the headboard. “Will you sit with me here?” I gestured for her to nestle between my legs. My arms encircled her slight frame, and it felt so good…so right to protect her that way.

“How’s that? You comfortable?”

“Mmmm, so comfortable. I could fall asleep right here I think.” She rubbed her nose into my chest like a little kitty, and I smiled.

“I would like that very much,” I said but left out the rest of what I was thinking. How perfect the position would be after fucking her senseless while we enjoyed the afterglow of our passion. It was all right there in the air between us. I couldn’t be the only one feeling the electricity between our bodies, but we needed to have that conversation.

We lay for a few minutes while she gathered her thoughts and finally spoke just as I was going to say something silly to break the tension that was building.

“I’m going to start by apologizing for the other night. Mostly for the way I handled the situation. It was immature of me to just bolt out of here the way I did. I was so worried I’d messed things up between us. Already.”

“Do you prefer to get it all out, and then I comment, or would it be better to go back and forth as you say what you need to say? Because I already want to tell you that you have nothing to apologize for. I felt like maybe I was too pushy that night, and you just weren’t on the same page or ready to be physical.”

She twisted between my thighs to look up at me. “You are one of the most considerate men I’ve ever met. You weren’t pushy at all. And I like this back and forth”—she waved between our chests with a slim hand—“as you described it. Feels more like a conversation and not a presentation.”

“Good. Me too. I just have to remind myself not to bogart the conversation as I tend to do.” I gave her a quick wink so she knew the self-deprecation was lighthearted and not a fishing expedition for her to stroke my ego.

“I’ll keep you in line, don’t worry,” she answered with a playful sparkle in her deep-blue eyes.

“Fair enough.” I smiled and kissed the top of her head.

She took another deep breath, and even if she hadn’t done that again, the stiffness in her frame told me just how uncomfortable she was. Based on her reaction the other night, whatever she was about to share with me wouldn’t be easy.

“Take your time,” I encouraged gently.

“Some…bad stuff happened to me when I was a little girl. Bad, bad stuff.” She shook her head and then rubbed her forehead.

I wanted to smile at the gesture because I did the exact same thing when stressed, but now wasn’t the time to be smiling.

“I don’t want to burden you with the details,” she said, “but let’s just say, it’s made me a little jumpier than some.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” I wanted to dive deeper into what happened but knew that was for her to share at her own pace. “Please don’t consider anything you tell me a burden. I feel honored that you confided in me.”

“Law, you have to understand it’s been a while since I’ve met someone that I’ve felt a connection with. Most of the guys I’ve gone out with have been pretty casual hookups—nothing more. I just haven’t felt like they’d understand what having a history like mine can do in here.” She tapped her temple a few times before saying, “Nor would they want to put in the time and effort to work through the damage.” She threw her hands up between us as if to stop me from speaking even though I was in full listener mode.

She went from the defensive posture to cradling her face in her palms in the next second. I just waited for her to work through it all.

“I guess that makes me sound like a slut, that I just hook up with every guy I meet, and that’s not how it’s been. Honestly.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything close to that, darling. Please continue,” I said after taking her hands in mine so she couldn’t hide her beautiful face while we spoke. This raw, honest version was even more breathtaking than her usual mien.

“So, while I don’t have trouble with the straight-up physical part of being with a guy, when my head starts getting involved—that’s when things can go sideways. I feel vulnerable I guess?” She looked at me for understanding, and I nodded that I was following. “That’s when I guess I lose that tight grip I normally have on things. Because my head wants to think more than the normal talk track that reassures me it’s all okay.”

She paused for only a second before adding, “I’m not sure if that even makes sense. The way I’m explaining it. Or trying to explain it, I guess.” She forced a laugh and a smile that stabbed me in the chest.

I gave her a little squeeze against my body until she relaxed a bit. If my physical presence could make her feel safe instead of panicked, we’d both be happy campers. I was a touchy person when I had a woman to call my own. Now, I almost held my breath while waiting for her to go on. If she told me she didn’t like being touched outside of the bedroom, it would be a real letdown.

“It makes perfect sense. Are there certain things that trigger panic like the other night? Things that you know? Or does it happen randomly?”

“Definitely certain things set me off all the time. Once and a while, though, something will trigger me that never has before. Those are really hard to recover from, because it’s like, just when I think I have a handle on it all, and that fucker has stolen all he will ever take from me, he wins again.”

“Can I ask, was this person charged or prosecuted? Are you in danger?” I wouldn’t hesitate to fuck someone up who hurt women—and especially little girls. I felt nearly homicidal at the thought of her being abused.

“No,” she said quietly and couldn’t hold my gaze. I’d be damned if she’d be ashamed on top of it all. At least if I could help it. She continued before I could say anything, though. “He was a seasoned predator. He knew just how to threaten me so that I never told anyone. I was terrified he’d hurt my family. And I was a child, so I didn’t understand that he was manipulating me.”

Instinctually, I pulled her into my arms. I wanted to comfort her and erase the pain from the bastard who hurt her. While I cradled her in my lap, I pressed my lips to the side of her head. With my face buried in her silky hair, I quietly said, “I’m so sorry you went through what you did. If I could take it away, I would, baby.”

I could feel her facial expression change beneath my lips. “Thank you. That’s very sweet.” The response seemed so trained that it irritated me rather than comforted me.

Again, though, this wasn’t about me. I had to keep reminding myself of that, and somewhere in the back of my busy mind, another self-observation was filed away. How had I become so selfish?

“Shepperd, look at me. Please.”

It took longer than I would’ve preferred, but she finally turned in my arms to meet my waiting attention.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m serious right now. I’m not trying to placate you or give you some verbal pat on the head and send you on your way. I want to know all there is to know about you. I want to be a person you’re comfortable enough with to share your feelings. All of them.”

I stopped there because I felt precariously close to making an ass out of myself. I didn’t know where all that just came from. I never said stuff like that to a woman. It wasn’t something I was interested in. But things about this girl were burrowing deep into my psyche in ways I hadn’t experienced before. And the craziest part of all of it? I liked it.