Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) (13 page)

“
I
believe you.”

She paused. “You do?”

“Of course I do.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Honey, I’m always going to believe you.” He stroked her hair, and she wondered yet again how his huge hands could be so tender. “Always. All I care about is being on your side.”

“Oh.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his closeness – both physical and emotional – she tried to move away on both levels. “Listen, I’m sorry to have called you in the middle of the night like this. You can go if you want to. I’m fine now.”

“God, Naomi, don’t do that. Come here.” He pulled her against him again. “No need to pretend with me, alright? I
know
you’re not fine, so don’t put up your walls again and shut me out. Let me be here for you, all the way.”

“I’m trying.” Her voice was quiet, broken. “I’ve let you see more of me than anyone before, ever.”

“I know.” His hands cupped her face and his stare burned right through her, all the way to the darkest, dirtiest corners of her soul. “But you need to know this: you can be out of control and totally vulnerable with me, and still be safe.”

She looked away and he turned her to face him again.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Naomi. I’m not going to cheat on you, or lie to you, or leave you. I’m not going to look at the dark parts of you and think they’re ugly. I’m not running from you. I’m
here
, baby. I’m right here, and I’m knocking on the door. Let me in. Let me
in
.”

“I – I –” She closed her eyes. “I want to. I’m just – I’m scared to.”

“I know you are.” He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. “What can I do to make it easier?”

“Stay. Stay tonight.”

King stopped breathing. “What?”

“Stay with me in my bed and don’t hurt me.” Her eyes were full of tears and he hated to see them. “Don’t force me to do anything. Don’t take advantage of the situation. Just – just stay.”

“Are you sure? Totally sure?”

“Yes.”

“OK.” King felt like he was falling, or maybe flying. “I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” she said again.

He stood up and tugged her to her feet. She hesitated, and he looked down at her.

“What is it?” he said.

“I want to pour out the wine.”

“OK,” he said calmly. “Let’s go do that.”

She nodded and he followed her in to the kitchen. She picked up the full glass, dumped its contents down the drain, then she washed it with lots of soap and water and set it on the draining board. Naomi reached for the bottle and turned it over, and that’s when King saw the cork bobbing around inside.

“Naomi?”

“Hmmmm?” She was watching the liquid disappear down the sink, and feeling better with every passing second.

“Why is the cork
in
the bottle?”

“Oh.” She laughed, a real laugh. “Yeah, well. I got all the way home and then remembered that I don’t own a corkscrew anymore.”

He laughed too. “So what’d you do?”

“My old standby trick. I got a knife – a regular dinner knife – and wrapped it in a dishtowel. Sat down, held the bottle between my legs, and shoved the cork in using the end of the knife.” She set the empty bottle on the counter and started to rinse out the sink. “It just pops right down and in.”

“Huh,” he said. “Good to know.”

She grinned at him. “I’m a walking almanac of useless skills like that.”

“Oh, I’ll bet that not
all
your skills are so useless, honey.”

Their eyes met and Naomi’s breath caught in her chest. She suddenly realized that Matt was actually going to sleep with her, in her bed. That body was going to be right there, next to her, touching her. He’d be there all night and he’d be there in the morning – and as much as that fucking terrified her, it also made her feel something else.

Safe. I feel safe.

**

King was holding a sleeping Naomi in his arms and watching the snow fall. It was after three o’clock but he was wide awake, and he fully expected to stay that way for a while.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t awake because he was fighting a raging hard-on or overwhelming desire. Well, OK, yes – he
did
have a rock-hard cock, and yes, he
did
want to flip Naomi under him and take her until she screamed. That was all a given, seeing as he was finally in bed with the hottest, sweetest woman he’d ever held. This was his dirtiest, sexiest fantasy come to life… or at least this was how it kind of started. In his fantasy, she wasn’t anything
close
to asleep.

No, he was wide awake because he finally had the time to fully process what Naomi had told him about that fucker who had raped her. At the time that she’d told him, King had heard it, but he hadn’t let himself really think about what that meant. He did so now, and the rage was slow and steady and all-encompassing.

King had been around lots of drunk women, and he knew just how vulnerable they could be. If a guy got it in mind to ply a woman with booze and then take advantage of her, he could do it pretty fucking easy. Having superior strength, being sober and in control, laying the trap in a public place – all these things worked in a determined guy’s favor. It made King sick that she’d fallen victim to a predator, and that nothing he did or said could ever change that. He had the same fear for Janine, though she was vulnerable for different reasons.

He looked down at Naomi’s face and his heart jumped. After it all, despite it all, she was
here
with him. Two hours earlier, she’d curled right up at his side, sighed, and closed her eyes. She’d been shattered by that point, and had looked pale and shaky again. He’d held her against his body, and she had let him. She didn’t fully trust him, he knew –
not yet
– but she wasn’t afraid of him. Considering everything, that was a tiny miracle in itself.

Another miracle to be grateful for: Naomi had been all alone and mere feet from a bottle of self-medication, and she’d made the awe-inspiring decision to not drink it. King tried to imagine what had been going through her head for the five hours that she’d sat there, trembling and staring at that glass of wine, and he failed miserably. The internal struggle must have been epic, and he knew that in his arms he held the strongest and most fragile woman that he’d ever known.

She tensed suddenly and he glanced down at Naomi again. Her face wasn’t calm and relaxed anymore, and he tightened his grasp on her automatically. All he wanted was for her to feel safe, and he was prepared to do anything at all to make that happen. That was why – despite the fact that Naomi had agreed to file a police report the next day – King had already called a few of his team members and given them Patrick Doyle's name. Quinn and Jackson would be doing their own investigation in to the twisted prick and King was very much looking forward to following it up. Maybe even in person.

Naomi felt hands on her body now, and the thought that Patrick was touching her again made her skin crawl. She jerked back, but suddenly huge arms were around her, pinning her in place, preventing escape. She twisted, a moan bursting from her throat.

“No… no. Stop. Stop!” She pushed against something hard, her whole body fighting to get away.

“Shhhh. Baby, it’s me. It’s Matt.”

Matt?

Fingers were stroking her hair now, caressing her cheek, tracing the curve of her lips. Gentle, tender, slow. Matt’s hands, for damn sure. No man had ever touched her the way that he did and she’d know his touch anywhere now. She knew it in the dark. She knew it by heart.

Her eyes opened just a crack and she saw him gazing down at her. His handsome face was troubled and she smiled at him. Still mostly asleep, she reached out to him, rested her hand on his cheek. He inhaled, pressed her hand tighter with his own, turned his face. He mouthed a tiny kiss on her palm and closed his eyes.

Right away, she settled again, slowly sinking back in to sleep. She was safe with him and she sighed deeply, letting herself burrow in to his huge body.

In response, he held her closer, and she felt his heat envelop her. He was like a gigantic cocoon, surrounding her and protecting her. Matt wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, not ever, and he wasn’t going to be the one to hurt her, either. She fell in to the peaceful blackness, knowing that no more bad dreams would come that night. Matt was there.

King stared down at her. She was completely out again, and he was staggered by her trust in him. Even half-conscious after a nightmare, she had smiled at him and touched him; she had accepted his kiss and then slipped on back in to sleep.

That was when he knew that this was it, for him.
She
was it. She was everything.

My sun and moon and stars.

Chapter Twelve

King woke up the next morning to see a pair of beautiful brown eyes watching him. He smiled and reached for her. She came to him right away, no hesitation or holding back, and he tucked her head on his chest.

“Good morning,” Naomi said.

“You were watching me sleep?”

“Can you blame me? You’re drop-dead gorgeous.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll drag my ass out of bed to make you coffee.”

She propped herself up on one hand. “You know what?”

“Hmmm?”

“When we first met at Curves? I wondered just how sexy your voice would be in the morning.”

He grinned. “You did?”

“Yep.”

“And?”

“Ummm.” Her small purr hit him smack in the chest. “It’s even hotter than I imagined. All rough and gravelly.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, hell, yeah.”

“OK. I will
definitely
bring the lady coffee in bed.”

“Oh, good. Flattery works
beautifully
with you, I see.”

They looked at each other, heating up the air between them. King touched her face, carefully ran his fingertips over the bruises on her throat.

“You OK today?” he said.

“Yeah.” She paused, reconsidered. “Well, maybe still a bit shaky.”

“You want to go to a meeting after we go to the police station?”

“Oh, for sure. There’s one at four o’clock and I’ll be there. But right now, I want to do one thing.”

“Have a drop-dead gorgeous man bring you coffee in bed?”

“Have a drop-dead gorgeous man
kiss
me in bed.”

He stopped cold, all joking and humor gone from his face now. “Naomi. You specifically asked me to not take advantage of this situation. Of you.”

“You’re not.” She ran her hands over his tense upper arm muscles. “I’m
asking
you to please kiss me.”

“You just said you’re still shaky. You had a bad shock last night –
two
bad shocks, really.” His gray eyes were holding her whole. “I’m not going to do a single goddamn thing when you’re not feeling strong and sure.”

She was quiet for a few seconds too long and he touched her hair. “Honey? What is it?”

“I haven’t been in bed sober with a guy for over ten years.”

“
What
?” he said.

“I’ve always been so scared and untrusting of men, and totally unable to feel safe with them, so I’d get drunk to relax enough to have sex.”

“Naomi…”

“The first time I had sex was at college and I was drunk.” She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. “The next morning, he snuck out. And that was the pattern that was set and which stuck, for years. Drink, pick up, have bad drunk sex, pretend to be asleep the next morning. Or sometimes
I
was the one to sneak out, my head pounding with a hangover and my sense of balance all fucked up, and on those mornings,
he’d
pretend to be asleep.” She sighed. “Even with boyfriends, it was always about drinking and then having sex. I’d wake up and stay, but we’d both be hungover and sick as dogs.”

“You’ve really never slept sober in bed with a man? Never woken up clearheaded?”

“No.” Her eyes were steady. “Not until last night, and not until right now. Not until you.”

“Goddamn,” he said softly.

“So you see, I
am
feeling strong and sure, Matt. I feel that way because I got in to bed with you sober, and I slept with you sober, and I’m waking up with you sober.” Naomi traced his lips with her fingers, loving their sensual shape. “I’m asking you to kiss me and I’m asking you sober.”

Unable to stop himself, he opened his mouth just a bit and gently trapped her finger between his teeth. She gasped and the sound had an immediate effect on King: his cock hardened mercilessly. Watching her face, he flicked his tongue, then sucked on her fingertip.

Naomi was hopelessly, completely, immediately, lost. All she could see was the burning intensity in his eyes as he pulled on her finger.
God
, that mouth…she wanted it on every inch of her body. Now.

King took her hand in his, held it to his chest. “The way you’re looking at me, the way I’m feeling… it’s not going to just be kissing. It’s not going to stop there and we both know it.”

“Maybe I don’t want it to stop there.”

“How far?” His voice was hoarse. “How far do we go?”

“We’ll see when we get there,” she said flirtatiously.

“No.” He shook his head, firm on this point. Fuck, it was killing him to
still
be talking, but this was important. “No way we get all caught up in the heat of the moment and go too far…no way we do something you’re going to regret after. You tell me now: where’s the line, Naomi? I’ll storm right up to it and walk it, I know that, but I won’t go one inch over it.” His whole body was taut with a raging desire that he held tightly in check. “Where’s the line, baby?”

She stared at him, knowing that he was serious. He wasn’t going to kiss her until she told him what he wanted to know. She thought about it. What was she ready for?

“I – I want your t-shirt off,” she said hesitantly. “I want my top off. I want to touch you.”

He swallowed. “OK.”

“And I want – I want…” She stopped, not sure how to say what she was thinking.

“Tell me.” He wasn’t going to let it go. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to touch me,” she said in a rush.

“Where?”

“Inside.” Her voice was small. “I want you to touch me inside. Physically, emotionally. Touch me deep, Matt.”

Holy fuck. I am going to lose my goddamn mind.

“You sure? Totally sure?”

She nodded.

“Say it.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

“You look scared, honey,” he said softly. “You scared?”

“Yes.”

“Of what?” His hands stroked her cheeks. “Talk to me.”

“I’m scared you’ll change your mind. That you’ll get up out of this bed and walk away from me.”

“No way.” He was totally still. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He lowered his head now and Naomi saw the kiss coming, felt his heat and strength approaching. She had just enough time to feel nervous about it, then his lips were on hers. Right away, her jitters disappeared, replaced by a sense of
rightness
. She knew, with everything in her body and soul, that she was in the right place, the right time, with the right man. Matt was right.

He moved carefully over her mouth, delving and stroking. He invited her to open up to him and she did. Oh, she did. With a moan of surrender, she gave him her need; she handed it over to Matt, trusting him to both care for it and assuage it.

Her fingers moved down his large torso, over his stomach, grasped the bottom of his t-shirt. She pulled it up and he helped her by raising those huge arms. She dropped the shirt to the floor and just stared. Like, literally just
stared
. Matt Kingston half-naked was a thing of power and beauty and she was stunned by him.

“You like what you see?” he asked, a teasing grin across his handsome face. “You’ve gone all flushed and quiet.”

“You’re gorgeous,” she said. “Perfect.”

“No need to stroke my ego, baby. I’m far from perfect.”

“No, you are.” Naomi touched him now, let her hands run over his tattooed chest and muscled shoulders. “Rugged and strong. Beautiful.”

His breath hitched at the look on her face, and he knew she meant every word she said. “Can I see you too?”

“Yes.”

His hands moved to her curvy hips, holding her in place for a few seconds as he kissed her again. He pulled her pyjama top off and she lay down on her back, displaying her luscious breasts to him. He fought to go slow, but it was hell.

“I want to kiss you,” he said. “Can I?”

“You’d better,” she said, her hands running over his face gently, then clasping his neck, pulling him down.

He actually groaned when he took her nipple in to his mouth. It was hard and hot, and it tightened even more under his lips. Her fingers were in his hair, encouraging him, holding him in place and he rolled the other bud between his fingers, loving her small gasps. He moved to her other breast, tasting and teasing, and her back arched up off the bed.

“Matt… oh, God. That feels…” She moaned as he nipped between her breasts, then licked the tiny red mark. “…so good.”

“For me too,” he murmured against her skin. “I need to touch you, Naomi. I need to feel your heat. I need to know you’re wet for me.”

She gasped again.

“Are you?” he asked. “Are you hot and wet for me?”

“Why don’t you find out?” she managed.

“
Fuck
.” His cock throbbed at her saucy words. “You’re killing me, darlin’. I need to get my hands all over you.”

“Yes.”

“I love when you say ‘yes’ to me.” He held her eyes. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Can you say anything other than ‘yes’?”

“No.”

He laughed and felt his whole body relax. There was nothing going on here that she wasn’t on board with, he knew that now. He looked down the length of her curves, focused on the scrap of material between her legs.

Naomi felt his gaze on her, as sure and strong as a physical touch, and she bit her lip. He was just so – intense. She was helpless in the face of it and she didn’t want to fight it, anyway. Matt was here with her and all he cared about was making her feel good.

Let him. Just let him.

She watched his thick fingers move down her body, skim over her panties. He moved farther down, closer to where she was throbbing and pulsing, and she held her breath. Waiting for that first touch; dying for it.

Please. Please.

King found her slit through the plain white cotton and they both tensed up in the best possible ways. She was soaked and open and ready, and he felt his cock jump in his boxers.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I have to feel this. Feel you.”

He yanked off her underwear almost roughly, tugging it down her legs, throwing it on the floor somewhere. His hands settled between her thighs, framing her pussy, not touching it. Not yet. One last question.

“If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he rasped. His self-control was almost totally gone, hanging by the thinnest of fucking threads. If she said to stop, he would – barely. “You want me to stop?”

“Don’t stop,” she breathed.

“Naomi. Baby, tell me again that you’re sure.”

“I’m sure, Matt.” She arched against him, seeking his touch. “Please…
don’t stop
.”

“I won’t. Not until you come for me.”

He lay down beside her, his one arm extended up and over their bodies, his fingers threaded in her hair. Naomi gave a cry when his roaming hand found her clit and thrummed it. An electrical current shot through her whole body at that small touch, and her toes actually curled in to the bed. She was so primed for him, so starved for this. She reached for him and he came willingly, fusing his mouth to hers as his hand moved over her swollen lower lips. His erection nudged her hip and she rubbed herself against it, loving his growl of response.

“Careful,” he said. “You keep doing that and I’m going to get messy.”

“I don’t mind messy,” she said. “I
want
messy.”

She touched him through his boxers, took him in both hands. She was momentarily stunned at his length, his heat, his hardness. God, she’d never been with anyone close to Matt’s size and she was overcome by the need to see him. She started to pull down his boxers and he took her hand to stop her.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “This can just be about you.”

“No way,” she said. “I want to touch you too. Can I?”

His face softened more than she’d ever seen. “Yes.”

They smiled at each other, all fears and uncertainties gone now.

Naomi eased the elastic down his thighs and looked at him. King watched her eyes flare with arousal and appreciation. All he saw was pure female
need
for a man’s body and he suddenly knew that she’d meant what she’d said about him being beautiful. Silly, fluffy word to describe a man like him – but he knew that’s how she saw him.

His fingers were moving more strongly now, spreading her liquid desire all over her. She was slick and open, and he slid inside just a bit. Her muscles clamped down, hard and fast, and he groaned. Her response was to kiss him and stroke his cock slowly, up and down, teasing the tip with her thumb. He deepened the kiss, deepened the thrusts with his finger, and she started to shake.

“Already?” he said. “You’re there already, baby?”

“Yes…” The word ended on a low moan as he added a second finger and pushed deeper, harder. “
Yes
.”

He twisted his fingers in her golden hair and forced her to face him. “You look at me the first time you come for me. Let me see you… let me see all of you.”

“You too.” Her hands were pumping him faster now. “You look at me too.”

Their eyes locked together and they surged against each other. Naomi’s hips raised and lowered as his fingers fucked her, plunging deep enough to find her sweet spot; King’s hips thrust back and forth in her hand, rubbing against her soft hip. Over and over, they moved on each other, against each other. Their cries and groans rose as their pace sped up, sped up again. Naomi closed her eyes as her climax built and King growled at the loss of contact.

“Open your eyes.” His fingers tightened in her hair. “
Now
.”

She did, staring up at him wildly, and he watched as every wall she’d built up crumbled for him. She came, writhing on the bed, calling his name even as he kissed her. Her abandon pushed him over the edge, past the point of endurance, and he ground his cock against her now.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” His massive body went as hard as marble and she felt him let go of his control. “Naomi…”

She raised one hand to cup his face, holding him steady even as she still panted from the force of her orgasm. “Don’t look away.”

Her words threw him off the cliff and he released in to her clenched hand, on to her hip. His cock throbbed and jumped and he groaned as the sensations went on and on, shuddering in her grip.