Revive (Storm MC 3)

He was starting to get his breathing under control, and straightened. His eyes found mine. They were wary.

I gave him a small smile, and reached for his hand. “How long ago was this?” I asked, softly.

His chest heaved again, but he maintained his breathing. “Ten years ago.”

I didn’t want to rush him, so I squeezed his hand, and waited for a moment before saying, “Tell me about her, Nash.”

He stared at me, and all I could see was his damaged soul. But his eyes were reaching for me; he needed me. I gently guided him to sit at the table, and prodded him to talk again. “What was Gabriella like?”

His hands fidgeted on the table, and he stared at them for awhile before finally opening up. “She was fun, spontaneous, up for anything. She was everything I wasn't back then.” He paused, and looked at me. I was stunned by what he’d just said, and he must have been able to read that on my face. “You might find it hard to believe, but back then, I was the responsible one. Growing up, I had to be. My father left when I was twelve, and my mother was pregnant with Carla. Jamison and I helped run the house and raise the girls during our teens while Mum was working two jobs making ends meet. I left school when I was fifteen to take on a mechanic apprenticeship to help her with the bills. So yeah, I had to be responsible and organised. When I met Gabriella, I was working as a mechanic, and desperately wanted her to be a part of my life. She made me feel alive again after all the shit I had to deal with at home.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, wanting to keep him talking, and wanting to know more about his life.

“Dad never had anything to do with us after he left; not one fuckin’ word. Still hasn’t to this day. Erika was ten when he left, and Carla never knew him.” His eyes blazed with anger now. “He fucked them up. Erika got into all kinds of shit; boys, alcohol, drugs, skipping school. You name it, she fuckin’ did it. All she wanted was a father who fuckin’ cared. God help him if I ever find him.”

“So you were helping your Mum deal with all this?”

“Yeah, Jamison and I tried to help. We spent nights trying to track Erika down, nights trying to keep her away from the parties, nights at the fuckin’ hospital while they dealt with the shit she’d put in her body. Mum was wrecked; physically and mentally.” He stopped, and pierced me with his gaze. “The whole thing was fucked up.”

“You wouldn’t know it now; your family was amazing when I met them.”

He gave me a tight smile. “It’s been a long fuckin’ road to get there.”

My heart was hurting for what he’d been through; for what he’d missed out on in life. “And Gabriella?”

His words cracked my heart a little bit more. “I fell hard for her; hard and fast. I’d fucked around with a lot of chicks before her, but she was different. She made me want more. I chased the shit out of her. She was all I wanted, and I felt like the luckiest bastard alive when she said she would marry me. Problem was, she didn’t have a fuckin’ clue what loyalty was.”

“How long were you married for?”

This question seemed to rattle him, but he kept talking. “I was with her for five years, three of those we were married.”

He stopped talking and I sensed a change in him. It was like he’d put the wall back up and wasn’t going to talk anymore. Suddenly, he stood, and began pacing the room.

I stood and moved towards him. “Nash, what - ”

He cut me off, his voice rough again. “Velvet, I can’t do this with you if we don’t have total honesty. I’m not saying you haven’t been honest with me; I’m just telling you what I need. And I’m not trying to control you when I tell you I don’t want you flirting with the boys. What I am telling you though, is that I can’t be in a relationship with someone who does that.”

The vulnerability in his words touched me. Nash had a way of doing that in the most unexpected moments. He laid his heart out for me, and I had no intention of trampling it. I would happily give him what he needed, and although I regretted the fight we’d had to have to get to this point, I was also grateful for it because it had forced him to open up.

I nodded. “I hear you, Nash. And I understand what you’re saying.”

The look he pinned me with revealed his need. “Can you give that to me?” He expelled a ragged breath, and I watched as his shoulders slumped a little.

I was close enough now to touch him, and I placed my hand on his cheek. Softly. Lovingly. I whispered, “Yes, I can give you that, baby.”

His chest heaved once again, and he curled an arm around my waist. Pulling me into his arms, he pressed a long kiss to my forehead before tightening his hold on me. I lost track of how long we stayed like that. It was time we needed to reconnect after everything that had been said.

When we finally pulled apart, he murmured, “I’m sorry, baby.”

I looke

d up into his eyes. The anger was gone, but there was still something there. I wasn’t completely sure, but I sensed he had more to tell. He’d shut down towards the end there, but I wasn’t going to push him anymore tonight. I whispered, “Me too.”

He bent his lips to mine, and kissed me. It was a gentle kiss, but I felt his desire tangled in with the softness. I felt his need too; it matched mine. Our lips and tongues slowly explored each other; there was no rushing, no wild frenzy. There was urgency though. Our bodies pressed together, and we clung to each other while we drew the kiss out. I didn’t want it to end; Nash was whispering sweet nothings through this kiss. And for a man who didn’t do hearts and flowers, I knew it meant something.

When his lips left mine to trail kisses along my jaw and down my neck, I tilted my head to the side to accept everything he wanted to give me. His hands moved to the bottom of my t-shirt and he slowly removed it, his eyes firmly focused on my chest. He dropped my shirt on the floor and bent his mouth to my nipple. When his tongue circled it and he began sucking, I moaned, and moved my hand to the back of his head to hold him there. He lavished attention on both my breasts, causing my whole body to light up with desire.

When he’d finished, he looked up at me, and murmured, “I’m a lucky man, sweet thing.”