“Son of a bitch!” He looked like he was ready to punch a wall. I looked down and noticed a bruise making itself known around my stomach. Nixon’s eyes glittered with tears as he brushed my hair away from my shoulder and examined my neck. I’m sure there were bruises there too.
You would think standing in front of Nixon in nothing but my skirt and bra — I would feel exposed and vulnerable, but instead everything felt comfortable, normal. As if he was the only person I could stand nak*d with after going through such an ordeal and feel safe.
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Breaking his hands wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot. I’m going to cut out his tongue and—”
“—can we not talk about him?”
“Sorry,” Nixon muttered. He reached for the spout on the bathtub and turned on the water. He threw in bubbles, which earned an eyebrow lift from me, he just muttered not to ask and something about Chase and nak*d time. I made a mental note to ask Chase next time I saw him.
My heart clenched. Thinking about Chase made me feel funny. It was weird, but I missed having that guy around. I missed his sense of humor, the easy friendship we had and his protective, crazy no bull attitude. I missed him right then, because I could have used his humor to drive away the demons that Phoenix had brought into my life.
Confused, I shook the thoughts away and waited for the tub to fill. The water smelled heavenly.
Nixon turned to me and rubbed the back of his neck, before gently turning me from him and unzipping my skirt. It fell to the floor.
His hands moved around my thighs gently examining the bruises until he turned me back around. He swallowed a few times and motioned to the bath.
“I’ll turn around while you get in, there should be enough bubbles too cover you up.”
“And if there isn’t?”
“Then I’ll pretend like I can’t see,” he said through clenched teeth.
I quickly peeled off my bra and underwear and got into the tub. However, I wasn’t counting on it being slippery, with a shriek I nearly slipped into the bubbles, but strong arms caught me and of course grazed my br**sts.
Nixon, of course, always the hero, stood behind me, holding me in place while I leaned on him.
“You okay?” he asked, voice rough.
“Yeah, sorry, it was slippery.”
He groaned and very gently released me as I slowly dipped into the water.
His eyes never left mine as I sunk beneath the bubbles.
“Damn bubbles,” he mumbled as he sat on the chair next to the tub and ran his fingers through his hair.
“You got something against bubbles?”
“Yeah. I do.” Nixon pointed at the tub. “They’re practically kissing every nak*d part of your skin while I sit here and watch.” He laughed darkly. “I had someone rip a nail from my finger once… this…” He swallowed and looked away. “Is so much worse.”
“Because of the bubbles?” I tried not to laugh, but it felt good after the hell I’d just been through.
“Yes, because of the damn bubbles. Are you done yet?” He twitched in his seat.
“I just got in.”
Nixon swore and hung his head in his hands. “Right. Well, can’t you… just… be faster?”
“I thought you wanted me to relax? I was just attacked.”
He moved so fast I jerked in response. Within seconds his hands were dipped into the water, he grabbed the loofa from my grip and began leisurely washing my back. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed slowly with each stroke.
The whole damn bathroom could have burnt down around me and I still wouldn’t have been able to take my eyes off of his face as he dipped the loofa in the hot water and then tenderly ran it over my bare skin, washing away the soap as well as the remnants of what happened an hour ago.
“That feels good.” I closed my eyes as his warm hands replaced the loofa and began massaging my neck and shoulders.
“Just so you know,” he croaked with his hands kneading into my flesh. “I’ve never had to practice so much restraint in all my life.”
“It builds character,” I mumbled, my eyes flickering open.
Nixon’s hands froze as his gaze fell to below my chest.
Note to self, bubbles tend to disappear when you’ve been in the bath for too long. His grip tightened on my body just slightly before he closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, a tiny whistle of air escaped his mouth.
“Sorry.” I moved to cover myself up but the bubbles were quickly disappearing.
His eyes flashed open. “Don’t be.” Nixon swallowed slowly. “Don’t you ever apologize for being beautiful — for being perfect. You are…” He moved one of his hands to cup my chin. “Exquisite.”
Maybe it was the stress of the day, or the fact that I felt anything but exquisite. I felt dirty, ugly, used. All in all I felt like the whore everyone had been calling me, as if what Phoenix did was somehow my fault. At any rate, I began to sob all over again, this time without shame as I looked into the eyes of the one person who made me feel like I was whole when inside I felt a bit broken and beaten up.
“Trace.” Nixon wrapped his muscled arms around me, not caring that I was getting him drenched, and lifted me out of the tub.
Without a word, he grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around my shivering body and again lifted me into the air like a little kid and brought me into another room.
A bed was in the corner and a tiny desk, my guess was that the guys took naps here whenever they could get around it — either that or the Bat Cave really was his secret hideout. I mean, the man was perfect. He probably had superpowers or something.
I didn’t have to ask Nixon for anything. It’s as if he knew exactly what I needed and when I needed it. He brought me a t-shirt and a pair of sweats that smelled like him.
When I moved to put on the t-shirt, he closed his eyes like a gentleman even though I didn’t force him to.
Once I was done putting on the sweats I kissed him on the cheek. My way of telling him thank you and that I was done dressing.
He dropped the towel to the floor and scooped me into his arms. With a grunt he had me on the bed tucked into his body.
I didn’t realize I was still crying until he wiped away a few stray tears.
“I won’t let anything happen to you — I swear on my life, I’ll protect you until the day I die,” Nixon whispered hoarsely.
“That’s a pretty big promise.”
“Well, you’re a pretty important person. Important people deserve big promises, and you, Trace. You deserve the world.”
I shook my head. Why was I suddenly feeling so insecure? Did having Phoenix’s hands on me really mess me up that much? I wasn’t used to this feeling, as if I didn’t deserve anything anymore.
With a curse Nixon tugged me closer. “You deserve the white dress, Trace. And the flowers and the music. You deserve that first dance with your husband. The stars in his eyes when he sees you walking down the aisle. You deserve the castle and the prince. A man who adores you, a family who sacrifices for you, friends who take care of you. Trace — you deserve it, but you have to believe it.”
I sniffled. “What if I just want you? What if I just want that one thing?”
“Damn it, Trace, I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you. The messed up part is I know it, but I want you anyways.”
“Want?”
“Need.” He croaked. “I need you like I need my heart to pump blood through my body, like I need air to breathe, like we need gravity. Hell, Trace, you are my gravity. Being with you makes me feel centered and whole, and I’m too screwed up to convince you to want any different. I’m too selfish to push you into someone else’s arms when I know mine may be the worst ones for you to be in.”
“But I want…” My lower lip trembled. I bit down hard so I could finish my sentence. Taking a soothing breath I started again. “I want you.”
His breath hitched and then his lips were on my neck. Warmth exploded at his touch. I leaned into him. Nixon murmured something in Sicilian and gently turned me on my back. He didn’t get on top of me, even though I wanted him to. Instead he stayed right by my side and continued kissing my neck, and then my chin, and finally my eyes.
“Where did he touch you?”
“Huh?”
“Where?” Nixon prodded gently.
I pointed to my neck where Phoenix had held me. Nixon kissed the exact spot where I’m sure a bruise was going to start showing as well. I pointed to my arm. Nixon’s lips met the place where Phoenix gripped me, and so went the next ten minutes as Nixon erased every single place that Phoenix had corrupted.
“And here.” I pointed to my mouth.
Nixon smiled, and then devoured — not kissed — my lips. His mouth covered mine completely as his tongue slipped in and pushed against mine.
My hands reached around his neck as I pulled him firmer against me. After a bit of hesitation he slowly moved on top of me, careful to keep his weight from crushing me. His hands dove into my hair as he deepened the kiss. I bit down on his lip and sucked his lip ring.
A growl escaped his mouth as his hands gripped my face. My body still didn’t feel close enough to his, so I arched up to meet him but was pushed gently back against the bed.
“You’re killing me, Trace.” Nixon groaned against my neck. With another groan he pulled back. “And I’m probably going to hate myself later tonight for saying this, but after everything…” He shook his head. “I can’t… I can’t—” I licked my lips and leaned forward.
“Ah, hell.” Nixon’s mouth was on mine in an instant. Eager and hot, his kiss met mine. He pushed, I pulled, he tugged, and I gripped. My body melted into his. I wanted to rip my clothes off, to lose myself in him in order to forget the nightmare of what had just happened to me.
My hands moved to his shirt.
A loud throat cleared.
Nixon jerked away from me and snapped. “This better be good, Chase, or I’m going to strangle you.”
Chase’s eyes met mine and for a second I felt guilty. I looked at the position I was in, underneath Nixon’s body, out of breath and flushed with excitement.
All after Chase had said he loved me and covered me up with his jacket. I licked my lips and noticed Chase’s blue eyes narrow. He blinked a few times in my direction and gripped the doorframe with his hand. His knuckles turned a few shades whiter before his eyes left mine and fell on Nixon.
“I just thought you should know that Mr. Alfero has everything set up and ready. Seems he was a bit over zealous about getting some of the men together. I didn’t think you would want Phoenix to die without letting Trace have a crack.”
“A crack?” I repeated.
“At Phoenix.” Chase’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You do want to slap him, don’t you? Because if you don’t, I sure as hell will. Shit. I’ll break both his legs for you.”
I knew he meant it. I also knew that if I let him and everyone else unleash on Phoenix I’d have a murder on my conscience. Is that how they dealt with everything in the mafia?