Searching for Perfect (Searching For 2)

He figured she wouldn't tell him, and that was okay. But he didn't want her alone tonight. Not when the monsters in the closet came out. "Stay here tonight. With me."

"Oh, I can't--"

"Not with me, of course. I know you're not interested. I'll crash on the couch. Take a few hours, sleep it off, and we can forget about it in the morning. Okay?"

She hesitated, but the flare of relief in her amber eyes settled the deal for him. No way was he sending her to an empty house. He may not be able to wrap his arms around her, slide between her thighs, and promise to slay her dragons. But he could damn well make sure she was safe.

"Are you sure?"

He didn't answer. Nate went into the hall closet, took down a blanket and spare pillow, and dropped them on the sofa. "Yes. Go to bed, Ken. There are T-shirts in my top drawer. I'll be out here if you need me."

She stared at him for a long time. Her lashes were extra long, dark, and thick; she lowered her gaze to the floor, as if she was still considering trying to keep her pride and return home. Finally, she rose and headed toward the bedroom. Her meekness broke his heart, but he bet her tiger roar would be back at the first light of day.

The door gently shut behind her.

Nate sank to the couch and dropped his face into his hands. He'd never sleep tonight. Choppy emotions coursed through him like a water-rafting ride gone bad. Rarely did he get the opportunity to take care of someone. This was a time he could be her friend and supporter, and he wasn't about to screw it up by thinking about sex or wanting something to happen between them that was impossible. The next day, she'd be back to dating prickfaces again, but for a little while, she belonged to him. Sleeping in his bedroom, her head on his pillow, her scent soaking into the sheets.

It was enough.

He got himself together. Cleaned up the tea, turned off the lights, and lay down on the sofa to keep watch.

It was going to be a long night.

KENNEDY LAY ON TOP of the comfortable cotton sheets and stared at the ceiling. The lights blared full strength, and she knew Nate was right outside the door, but the words kept drifting in her brain.

Show me your tits.

Her body shook, but her mind raged against her weakness. Just words spoken by an idiot male pumped up by hormones. Ridiculous to backslide into the past. The worst was the way she shut down, helpless to fight or process the scene. What would've happened if Nate hadn't interrupted? Goose bumps broke out on her arms, and she pulled up the comforter to her chin in an effort to get warm. She rarely made mistakes with men, and yet she'd committed a doozy with Derek. Women didn't get a second chance.

Hadn't she learned that lesson years ago?

Sometimes the sounds haunted her most--fingers ripped, voices laughed. The crippling humiliation of helplessness while her body was exploited, as if it didn't even belong to her. She remembered afterward looking down at all her math and science books scattered on the concrete. Picking them up one by one and wishing she wasn't smart, wishing she were beautiful, so beautiful and thin that she held the power.

A whimper caught in her throat. The lights didn't help. She needed to banish the memory, forget the ghosts, and there was only one way to do it.

Kennedy climbed out of the bed and opened the door.

"Nate?"

"I'm here." He sat up, lifted the blanket, and beckoned her over. She dove for comfort, shivering with her bare legs exposed from the T-shirt. Blessed warmth wrapped around her as he tucked her into his chest, slid his arms open, and held her close.

The sweetness of his touch drove out the numbness, and she relaxed against him, her muscles melted into the hard planes of his chest, the strength of his biceps, the powerful thighs underneath her. He murmured soothing words into her ears and rested his chin on top of her head. In this darkness, she felt safe. In this darkness, with him, she opened the past and shared.

"There was a boy in school. He used to wait for me in the hallway and say things. Sexual things. He'd call me fat and say I needed to know about sex or I'd never get a boyfriend, that smart, fat girls would always end up alone. I was afraid of him, but no one ever helped. They thought it was funny. A lot of times, other boys would join him and laugh when I tried to get away."

His body tightened, but he kept stroking her hair, and she spoke against his chest, in the dark.

"He'd--he'd make me show him my breasts. Told me if I didn't do it, he'd send his friends to find me and they wouldn't be so nice. I was scared. I never knew when he'd show up or where. He'd just be standing there with this grin, and these sick eyes, and say 'Show me your tits' over and over. At first, I refused, but he threatened me. Said he'd send over his crew to play. So I finally did, Nate, I did, because I didn't know what else to do, and then he'd go away for a while."

She gulped for breath and hung on tight.

"One day, he followed me after school and pushed me into an alley. I thought it was the usual, but there were two other boys there. They surrounded me. Pulled at my shirt, kept telling me to show them my tits. I cried, but they didn't care, and they ripped open my shirt and bra and touched me. Laughed at my fat belly. Said fat girls needed to be good at blow jobs because that's how they got men to like them. They pushed me down and touched me in places, but I fought, and then someone saw them and came into the alley and chased them away."

Her heart pounded and sweat drenched her skin, though she shivered and buried deeper into his chest for warmth. "I hated them for making me scared. For taking away my body and my self and my sanity. I told my mother and went to the police. I reported it to the school. And after that, I stopped eating. I decided if I were thin and beautiful, I'd have power. I got sick, and they won after all. But not anymore. I got strong, and healthy, and owned my body again, on my terms."

"They didn't win," Nate growled. "Never again. My sweet, brave girl." He pressed kisses to her temple, holding her so tight she knew nothing could ever get to her if he was around. How long had it been since a man held her to comfort her? To give her strength? Never. She used men for companionship, for sex, for distraction. Not once had she told another person the truth about her past except for Kate, Arilyn, and her therapist. They'd kept her sane, but now she'd broken her cardinal rule and Nate was in the inner circle.

"I close my eyes and see it again and again. I need to get them out of my mind. I won't let them win tonight. Help me."

"What, sweetheart? What?"

"Make love to me."

The silence pulsed like it was alive, the demand hanging over them in a big bubble, awaiting his answer. She knew she was going to hell, knew what she asked was selfish and horrible and wrong, but already her body was alive, demanding she slake the primitive hunger roaring through her soul to be claimed by this man. One night. Just one night with her rocket scientist and she'd let him go again.

"Are you sure?" He forced her head up, digging his fingers into her scalp with a delicious pressure. "I'm not a saint, Ken. I've wanted you for a damn long time, but you don't have to promise me sex to get what you want. I'll hold you and kiss you and keep you safe, and you can go home in the morning. Don't offer me something out of guilt."

This time, she got angry. "How dare you accuse me of offering pity sex!" she hissed. "If I had a damn collar around your neck, I'd buzz you twice! I want you, Nate Dunkle. I want to replace those horrible memories with something good and right and sweet. And I know I'm screwed up, and I'm your matchmaker, and this is the worst thing I can ask you to do, but I don't care. So a simple yes or no at this point would be a good thing."

"Yes."

He crashed his mouth over hers.

She never saw him coming. He simply took over, possessed her mouth, and buried his hands in her hair to keep her still. His tongue stroked her lips until she opened wide and gave him what he wanted. He sunk in deep, and she moaned under the gorgeous skill of his teeth and lips and tongue. Using the perfect suction, he sipped and commanded and gave, until her head spun and she grew wet between

her legs. His taste and scent swamped her senses, and she hung on for the ride, already under his spell and seeing no need to fight it. He kissed her endlessly, taking his time, learning every secret of her mouth. She arched up for more and clung to his shoulders, but he never hurried, as if she were a science experiment he intended to study and learn no matter how many hours it took.

Finally, he lifted his head. Her lids were heavy when she opened her eyes. Her entire body throbbed with need, from the tight ache of her nipples to the drenched core between her thighs.

"I want to fuck you, Ken. Slow and hard, in so many ways there's not a part of your body I haven't used and pleasured. Don't think this is going to be a quick round with sweet kisses and politeness. I've waited too long. Understood?"

Dear God, who would've thought her rocket scientist knew how to talk dirty? Heat sizzled in her veins and her mouth grew dry. "Yes."

"Good." Without another word, he lifted her from the couch and walked into his bedroom, laying her down on the bed. He stripped her quickly of his T-shirt, and his gaze devoured the flesh left bare by her black bra and thong as he stood beside the bed like a conquering warrior about to partake in his spoils. His stillness only heightened her arousal, the way he took in every inch, probing, his moss green eyes filled with intentions of what he was going to do to her. She shuddered with pure anticipation. She was used to being the aggressor, taking what she wanted, and guiding her lovers in the way she enjoyed. This time, she realized he was in charge.

And she loved it.

"You deserve multiple orgasms every day, sweetheart. The female body is designed for pleasure in a way the male can never attain." As he spoke, he ran his palm down her belly, across her quivering thighs, to her calves. He paused to pluck at the silver chain still clasped around her ankle, linking his fingers in a loose circle and bending her leg by the knee. "So many erogenous zones men ignore in the quest for the almighty orgasm. It should be a crime to miss out on such foreplay. Each step leads to a more intense explosion and release."