Ruined Read online

  ‘You mean jail? No, don’t be stupid. You’re not going anywhere—let alone to prison. There are plenty of other ways we can—’

  ‘There are no other ways.’ I cut her off harshly. ‘You’ll never get to keep Annie if I don’t go.’

  ‘But when you say you’ll go, how long are you talking about? Just until this is over, right?’

  That knife in my chest had turned into an animal, clawing at my guts, tearing me to shreds inside. I’d nearly killed a man in her hallway—would have killed him if she hadn’t been there to stop me—and I was dripping blood all over her carpet.

  Now she might lose her daughter because of me.

  Now she might lose everything because of me.

  She’d been right not to wear my ring. Right to take it off and put it back in that box. Right not to give me what I wanted. Right to be afraid.

  I was dangerous. I hurt people. I killed people. And one of these days, no matter how hard I’d try not to, I’d hurt her. Shit, I already had. I changed our friendship, forced her to be my old lady. She hadn’t wanted any of that and yet I’d insisted.

  What kind of man did that to a friend?

  You know the answer to that, motherfucker.

  ‘No, Cat.’ I had make myself say the words. ‘When I say I have to go, I mean I have to leave you. For good.’

  She paled. ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t be with you any more. It’s better for you and it’s better for Annie if I’m not in your lives. I’ll take a jail term for the club if I have to, but I’m not having you or Annie connected to that. Not if it means you losing her.’

  Her mouth had dropped open and she was staring at me like I’d turned into a stranger. ‘You can’t mean that.’

  I held her gaze, letting her see the truth. ‘I mean every fucking word.’

  Green sparks of anger leapt in her eyes. ‘No,’ she repeated. ‘You’re not going to jail just because you were protecting me. And you’re not leaving me. Just no.’

  Of course she was being stubborn. Of course she was going to make this even harder than it was already.

  ‘You didn’t want this anyway, remember?’ I couldn’t help pointing that out. ‘You wanted some time to think about it.’

  Those green sparks leapt higher, her chin lifting in challenge. ‘I know what I said. But what if I was wrong? What if I do want it after all?’

  Oh, Jesus Christ. Please don’t say she’d changed her mind. I couldn’t deal with that—I just couldn’t.

  ‘Well, it’s too late now,’ I said harshly. ‘This is the way it has to be.’

  Not waiting for her to respond, I sidestepped her and headed into the bedroom.

  I didn’t want to have this discussion. Not with her standing there with that look in her eyes. Anger and, beneath it, pain. Not when everything I said would only make her angrier, cause her more hurt.

  It was better I just go. Make the moment quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

  In the bedroom I grabbed my duffel bag, then went to the dresser where Cat had cleared out a couple of drawers for me, taking out my clothes and stuffing them in the bag.

  ‘You bastard.’

  Cat’s voice came from behind me, low and shaking.

  ‘You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to change our friendship, make me want you, tell me you’ll never leave me and then walk away.’

  Each word hit like a bullet, opening up a thousand holes inside me, their edges jagged and ripped, my entire fucking soul pouring out through them like blood from a fatal wound.

  ‘It’s better this way.’

  I kept my teeth clenched against the agony, balling up a T-shirt and shoving it into the bag.

  ‘Better for who? For me and Annie? Or for you?’

  The raw note in her voice hooked into the anger that was already boiling away inside me, making it sizzle like water on a hot exhaust pipe.

  I turned around sharply.

  She was behind me, her expression furious, her green eyes bright with hurt.

  ‘You really want a man like me?’ I demanded, unable to shut the fuck up. ‘I’d have killed that fucker if you hadn’t been here. I’d have beaten him to death for touching you.’

  I took a step towards her, wanting to intimidate her so she’d back off.

  ‘Is that the kind of man you want in your life? The kind of man you want around your daughter?’

  Strangely, the look in her eyes softened, as if she could see something in me that I couldn’t.

  ‘This isn’t about Annie and me, though, is it?’

  I stiffened as she took a step forward, apparently not giving a shit that I was enraged and in pain and ready to smash something into oblivion.

  She lifted a hand to touch my face. ‘This is about you losing it with Justin. About your dad.’

  Her gaze was sharp, opening me up, and I grabbed her wrist to stop her from touching me before I could think better of it.

  ‘No.’ I tried to ignore the warmth of her skin and the race of her pulse beneath my fingers. ‘That shit’s got nothing to do with this.’

  I was lying, though, and we both knew it.

  I’d killed my Dad and that ghost wouldn’t ever fucking die.

  Cat didn’t move. ‘You know what I thought back then, and that hasn’t changed. You shot your dad because you were trying to protect your mom. And you beat the hell out of Justin because you were trying to protect me. You’re a protector. That’s the kind of man you are, Smoke. That’s the kind of man you’ve always been. I thought you knew that.’ She took another step closer. ‘Being near Annie and me hasn’t bothered you before. So what’s changed? Is it Justin? Is it me?’

  She was so close I could smell her familiar scent. It was getting me hard. The tear in her blouse didn’t help either, revealing the curves of her delicious tits.

  Fuck, I wanted her so badly.

  My grip tightened on her wrist and I felt her pulse begin to accelerate.

  What had changed? I had. And she was the one who’d changed me. Being a friend was easy—there was a distance in that. But being more than a friend was different, and I hadn’t realised ’til now what that meant.

  Justin had not only shown me the truth of what I felt for her, he’d also shown me the truth of what I was inside. I was violent. Possessive. Territorial. I wanted to make Cat mine in every way, and the thought of her even touching another man filled me with murderous rage.

  She didn’t deserve that. Annie didn’t deserve it either. Cat needed a man who wasn’t controlling or jealous or demanding. And Annie needed a father figure who wouldn’t lose his temper and beat to death some asshole simply for touching his woman.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what’s changed.’ I stared down into her beautiful eyes. ‘Fact remains that me leaving is better for Annie, and that’s who you should be thinking about right now.’

  An intense expression flickered across her face. ‘That’s not true. You leaving is not better.’

  She put her free hand on my chest, the warmth of her touch seeping through my T-shirt, making me so fucking aware of exactly how far away she was from me and how much I wanted to close that distance. Making the pain that was ripping me apart even worse.

  ‘And what’s good for us is you staying here. Because you’re good for me, and what’s good for me is good for Annie—can’t you see that?’

  I wanted to see it. I really did. But I couldn’t. Not when I’d never been good for anyone in my entire fucking life.

  Unable to resist the urge to touch her, I let go her wrist and took her face between my hands, cupping her jaw. ‘I’ve made my decision. I’m sorry, kitten. This is how it is.’

  Her mouth tightened, fury glowing in her eyes. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No.’

  And before I could avoid her she rose up onto her toes and pressed her lips to mine
. Kissing me.

  I struggled not to respond. Every muscle in my body was tight with the need to grab her, push her down on the floor. Bury my aching cock in her tight little pussy, make all the pain and the rage disappear.

  But that would only make things worse.

  And yet Cat was obviously hell-bent on making this as hard for me as possible, because when I didn’t respond she pushed her tongue into my mouth, tasting me, kissing me as demandingly and as desperately as I’d ever kissed her.

  It was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever experienced.

  She’d never been aggressive like this with me before, never been this hungry. Like she was suffocating and the only way to breathe was to put her mouth on mine.

  My dick was like iron in my jeans, and I knew if I didn’t put a stop to this now I wouldn’t be able to. And then walking away from her would be next to impossible.

  So I buried one hand in her hair and fisted it, trying to pull her head back. She resisted, making me pull harder, which had to hurt her, yet she didn’t make a sound when I finally managed to yank her away. Her eyes were huge and dark and full of rage, and I felt like my chest was made of nothing but broken glass.

  ‘You can’t leave,’ she said furiously, before I could get in a word. ‘I won’t let you.’

  Her hands reached down as she spoke, sliding over the front of my jeans, cupping my aching dick through the denim.

  ‘I’ve changed my life for you and you don’t get to walk away like that doesn’t mean a goddamn thing.’

  ‘Don’t.’

  I twisted her hair in my grip, some part of me wanting to hurt her for making this so difficult. For making this as painful as it was possible to get.

  ‘Let me go, Cat. Just fucking let me go.’

  Tears started in her eyes, but she ignored me, squeezing me instead.

  And something in my head exploded.

  I was angry, hard, and hurting like a bastard. Violence was humming in my blood. And she was so close, touching me, messing with my head, and all I could think about was showing her how wrong she was.

  Showing her that it would be better for all of us if I wasn’t in her life.

  If she really wanted to know what kind of man I was, she was going to find out.

  Right now.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Cat

  HIS HAND IN my hair hurt, but that was nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

  I looked up into Smoke’s beautiful face and saw my own agony reflected in his gaze along with the rage I’d seen as he’d launched himself at Justin.

  That rage was mine, too, because I knew what had changed. Why he’d wanted this relationship to be permanent only to change his mind a couple of hours later.

  Beating Justin up had brought back old memories. Memories of his father’s death and his own role in that. And sure, that was hard. It wouldn’t ever go away. But surely he knew what happened all those years ago didn’t define him? That it didn’t change my feelings about him?

  He couldn’t leave me. He couldn’t alter our friendship forever, tell me I was his, promise me he’d always be there, only to walk away.

  He couldn’t make me fall in love with him, give me everything I’d ever wanted, only to take it all away.

  I knew what he was going to do because I knew him. I could read it in those searing dark eyes as he bent me back over his arm, winding my hair around his wrist, making my scalp prickle with pain.

  ‘You’re going to try and distance me, aren’t you?’ The words were shaky and rough as he lifted his hand to the front of my blouse. ‘You’re going to try and show me exactly how bad you are for me. How much you could hurt me.’

  He said nothing, his mouth closing on my throat, his teeth grazing my skin.

  I trembled. Then trembled harder as he simply tore my blouse straight down the middle, the fabric sagging open.

  ‘You’re forgetting something,’ I went on, my voice getting ragged as he nipped at my throat. ‘I know you, Dane Kingsolver. I’ve known you since you were seven years old. And you’ve never once, not in twenty-odd years, ever been bad for me.’

  Again he didn’t reply, grabbing the delicate lace of my bra and jerking hard.

  My bra ripped apart, and then his big, hot palm was cupping my bare breast, squeezing it, shaping it, his thumb flicking over my rapidly hardening nipple. I gasped, pleasure arrowing through me, getting sharper as he bit the side of my neck. Then he pinched my nipple—hard.

  The pain made my eyes water, yet at the same sent a jolt of excitement right through me. A throb had started up between my thighs and when he pinched me again, twisting my nipple in his fingers, I felt that same jolt deep in my pussy, too.

  He pulled my hair harder, arching my back and pressing my body to the furnace of his, lifting my breasts so he could bring his teeth there, too, licking the aching tips. I squirmed against him as his hot mouth closed around my nipple, sucking rhythmically, nipping at it, biting at it.

  My breathing had become ragged and I was shaking, and then he yanked my skirt up, his fingers sliding into the lace of my panties, grabbing a handful of the material and tearing them away as easily as if they were tissue paper. Once they were gone his fingers pushed between my thighs, sliding over the bare, slick flesh of my pussy, massaging my clit roughly.

  Pleasure cut me like a knife.

  ‘Smoke... Oh, God...’ My voice was as ripped and torn as my clothes.

  His scorching dark gaze was on mine as he slid one finger into me, keeping his thumb pressed hard to my clit, staring at me as another finger joined the first, pushing deep. Then he separated both fingers, stretching me, making me groan and tremble and burn. Crushing me with pleasure.

  I knew what he was doing. He hadn’t wanted me to fight him so he’d taken control, the way he always did. But I couldn’t let him do that—not today. He was trying to leave me and I’d be damned if I let him go. I couldn’t stop him physically—not when he was so much stronger than me—but, as I’d learned over the past couple of weeks, I wasn’t exactly powerless.

  I knew what his weakness was.

  Me.

  I looked up into his face as his fingers worked in a short, hard rhythm that made my hips lift and jerk, building the pleasure relentlessly.

  He wasn’t untouched by what he was doing. I could see the black flame in his eyes, the darkness burning, searing. The lines of his face were taut and hungry, something like a snarl twisting his beautiful mouth.

  I stared into that heated darkness, let myself melt into him.

  Maybe he knew what I was trying to do, because he pulled his fingers from my body and brought them to my mouth, shoving them between my lips, a feral look on his face.

  ‘Lick them,’ he ordered. ‘Taste how wet you get for a fucking killer.’

  I obeyed, keeping my gaze on his as I licked his fingers, tasting my own musk and the saltiness of his skin. Tasting us. Together.

  There was strength in resistance, but sometimes true power lay in surrender.

  ‘I love you,’ I whispered, falling into his midnight eyes. ‘I love you so much.’

  Anguish flooded his face and suddenly I wasn’t bent over his arm any more but turned to face the wall, shoved up against it, his hot, hard body coming up behind me, pinning me there. I turned my face to one side, the texture of the wallpaper pressing into my cheek and against the stiff points of my nipples, making my breathing wild and my heartbeat stampede in my head.

  He put his arm against the back of my neck, keeping me jammed to the wall. His short, ragged breath was in my ear.

  ‘Those words mean nothing.’

  There was a whole world of pain in his voice.

  ‘Don’t ever fucking say them.’

  ‘But they mean something to me,’ I gasped out. ‘I don’t want you to leave. I love you and I�
�’

  His palm covered my mouth, stopping me from finishing.

  I didn’t struggle. I let him keep his hand there. Because not being able to say the words didn’t change the intense rush of feeling in my heart.

  But I shuddered as I felt him nudge my feet apart, knowing what was coming next. Wanting it. Craving it more than my next breath.

  I heard his zipper being pulled down and then his lean, powerful body covered mine, worn denim and warm cotton against my bare back, his free hand reaching around to spread me open, the long, hard length of his cock pushing inside me.

  We hadn’t bothered with condoms since I’d gone on the pill, and I shivered at the feel of his hot skin against my slick flesh, at the exquisite stretch and burn as he slid deeper, filling me. Impaling me.

  I whimpered against his palm, the pleasure of him inside me making me arch against him, wanting more, wanting him deeper still.

  ‘Fuck... Cat...’ His whisper was desperate, and I felt him turn his face into my neck, the hand over my mouth sliding down to grip my throat in a possessive hold.

  His free hand reached for the back of my knee, lifting my leg up, spreading me wider for him. Then he pressed his palm to the wall with my knee hooked over his wrist, opening me up, his cock pushing so deep I shook.

  He began to fuck me hard, each thrust powerful, crushing me between the wallpapered surface at my front and the furnace heat of his body at my back.

  I should have tried to protect my cheek from the rough scrape of the wallpaper. But I didn’t. I simply relaxed against him and let him do what he wanted, gave myself to the grip of his hand on my throat and the feel of his cock slamming in and out. His breath was hot against the back of my neck as he slid the hand on the wall up, lifting my leg higher, spreading me even wider. Then he adjusted his stance, thrusting up hard enough to lift me onto my toes, tilting my hips and making my back bow, penetrating me even deeper.