Fumbling for his zipper, I pulled him into me. As soon as he was free, he gripped my ass and lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist.
He surged into me as we fell back against the wall, and I gasped at the overwhelming fullness I’d yearned for.
“I’ve been so empty,” I confessed in my mindless longing for him.
Lachlan groaned against my mouth. “I’m sorry, Braveheart.” His voice was gruff. “No women in or on my bed but you. No leaving you alone again.” He kissed me tenderly.
I didn’t want to believe his promise, but I felt it planting a seed of hope in me as I held on to him, as he drove into me in luscious thrusts.
My passion-filled cries echoed off the shower room tiles, exciting Lachlan, his lovemaking turning savage.
It wasn’t just desire. Or want.
It was need.
And it soothed the ache in my chest as much as it inflamed the hot ache between my legs. Because he was becoming necessary to me.
And I wanted to become a necessity to him too.
29
Lachlan
Those stunning golden, green, brownish, bluish, gray, ever-changing hazel eyes looked up at him as he moved inside her.
Robyn.
Something primitive, something base within him, recognized her as his.
She belonged to him.
But he was at war with that part of himself, even as he tenderly took her for the second time that night, now in the privacy of her bedroom.
Every time the warring side that wanted to run took hold of him, he’d hear her words again, see her hurt, feel it deep in his bones.
This person came after me too. He actually killed someone. And I’ve barely seen you. I’ve been alone in my room every night since. While you were taking care of her.
Robyn Penhaligon was the toughest woman he’d ever met. He teasingly called her Braveheart, yet beneath the banter of endearment was sincerity. But she wasn’t invulnerable. The scars on her chest proved that.
And he’d abandoned her when she’d most needed to feel safe.
The thought was a painful scrape through his gut.
“Robyn,” he murmured her name like a plea and kissed her as he reached between their bodies to torment her like she tormented him.
At the sight, sound, and feel of her climax, Lachlan couldn’t hold back any longer. His hips jerked hard against hers, and he shuddered through his own release.
Spent, he fell onto his side but refused to let go of her. Despite their harsh argument earlier, Robyn turned into him. No barriers. No holding back.
She snuggled her face into his throat and while he liked her there, Lachlan needed more. Tipping her chin back, he kissed her again. Soft but deep.
Possessive.
Fuck.
He broke the kiss and swallowed hard.
Not since his father’s death had he felt so lost at sea.
“I was shot by a drug dealer,” Robyn announced randomly.
It took him a second, but Lachlan realized, no, it wasn’t random.
His fingers trailed down over her chest to the scars.
She was offering … herself.
His breath caught.
Reject the offer and run? Or stay … for once?
Their eyes locked, and the thought of hurting her was worse than any war battling inside him. “When?”
“Just over a year ago. It’s why I left the force.”
Swallowing hard against a vision of some junkie bastard shooting her three times in the chest, he choked out. “Tell me.”
And so she did. When she got to the part about her heart giving out, dying on the OR table, his own heart nearly stopped.
“You left because a job you didn’t love wasn’t worth your life?” he guessed.
Robyn hesitated, and he tensed at the crack in her voice. “That’s what I tell people.”
Turning her face to him with a gentle prod of his fingers to her chin, his voice was like sandpaper as he asked, “What’s the truth?”
Tears brightened her eyes, shocking him into utter silence. She looked heartbroken. “I killed the guy who shot me. His name was Eddie Johnstone. A drug dealer from East Boston. I’d never killed someone before, and although it was self-defense … it took me a long time to work through. I’m not even sure I have properly. My therapist said it will take time.”
A deep ache emanated from his upper chest. “Jesus, Robyn. I’m so sorry. But you must know it wasn’t your fault. And he was a criminal.”
“He was. He wasn’t a very nice guy. But he had a sister and a mother who loved him, and I took him from them.”
“He almost took you from your family.” From me.
“I know.” She reached up to caress his cheek through his beard. “I’m getting there. Slowly but surely. But I never want to be in that position again.”
Lachlan realized she had been put in that position again—when the masked attacker broke into the trailer. He tried not to think too hard on that and asked, “You see a therapist?”