Home > Searching for Beautiful (Searching For #3)(7)

Searching for Beautiful (Searching For #3)(7)
Author: Jennifer Probst

He lifted a brow. “You hungry?”

Between the candy diet and her nerves, she doubted any morsel of food would stay down. “No. But I’ll make you something.”

He chuckled and wrestled out two six-packs of Sam Adams Summer Ale from the bag. “How about we get drunk instead?”

She followed impulse and threw herself into his arms for a hug. David would’ve insisted on taking care of her health, frowning over alcohol intake, and watching exactly what she ate. She missed having no rules again. She missed Wolfe.

Hard muscle and sheer power closed around her. Her head hit his chest halfway, but his arms held her with a tenderness that made an odd longing clutch at her throat. Treasured, yet not owned. Why had she never noticed the difference? The scent of cotton and soap filled her nostrils, clean and pure. She breathed in to savor the moment, then stepped away.

“Hey.” He tugged at her hair. “If I knew you’d be this nice to me, I’d offer you alcohol all the time.”

She snorted. “I’m always nice to you.”

Wolfe uncapped the bottle and handed it over. The icy brew slid down her throat and warmed her belly. The subtle taste of lemon danced on her tongue.

“Not. You have a sick sense of humor. You enjoy torturing me. What about the time you set me up with your friend Molly?”

A giggle threatened but she tamped it down at his accusing expression. “I was trying to find you a nice girl.”

“I guess a dominatrix is considered nice in today’s society, huh? She brought her whip. And some scary-ass equipment that made me skip dessert. And I never skip dessert.”

Gen bit her tongue and tried for seriousness. “I didn’t know it was that bad, I swear. She’s a nurse in the NIC unit and complained she couldn’t meet a cool guy. She said she enjoyed a bit of kink, not hard-core dungeon stuff.”

He blew out a breath, grabbed a beer, and ripped open a bag of pretzels. “Do I look like the submissive type? Or one who’d get off on being tied to a bed with a wrench at my balls? Not fun, Gen.”

She took another sip. “You told me you liked edgy sex. I was only trying to help.”

“Edgy, not death defying. How would you feel if I hooked you up with some guy who ordered you to drop to your knees and serve?”

The memory hit hard and fast. Another argument. David complaining she didn’t put his needs first and had gotten lazy in the bedroom. So he grabbed her hair. Forced her to her knees. Unzipped his pants. And waited.

She’d heard those games were fun and spiced things up. But she’d only felt sick and used. The way he assessed her skill, berating her for not getting it right, until afterward she turned away, trying not to gag as he finally praised her, stroking her head like some prized animal who’d finally gotten a command right. Telling her over and over how he loved her, adored her, and wanted them to be perfect.

Gen turned quickly, shutting her eyes and forcing away the image. No, not now. Had it been that bad? Why hadn’t she told him to fuck off and thrown him out of the house? What was wrong with her?

“Gen?”

She shuddered and lightened her tone. “Sorry, as Dug from Up would say, ‘Squirrel.’ Lost my train of thought. Seems to be my new motto lately.”

He studied her in silence, then nodded. “I prefer my own motto from Finding Nemo.”

“What’s that?”

His gaze burned into hers with a deeper meaning evident. “Just keep swimming.”

Her muscles loosened and she managed a smile. “That’s Lily’s favorite movie.”

“Mine, too. Second is Avengers.”

She wrinkled her nose. “No way. I always thought you liked the mob movies. You never seemed like a superhero sort of guy.”

Massive shoulders lifted. “Nothing wrong with hoping for the good guys to kick a little ass.” Something drifted across his face, a light of memory she craved to ask him about, but too soon it disappeared. “Have some pretzels, they’ll settle your stomach. I’m gonna get changed real fast. Be right back.”

She nibbled on a few and sat in the living room to wait. The gentle whir of the island-type ceiling fan soothed her nerves. She settled on one of the plump couch cushions with her beer. He returned dressed in a simple navy blue bathing suit, T-shirt, and sandals, then took a seat on the opposite chair. The scene reminded her of a casual get-together between good friends. Unfortunately, it was much more. Her fingers tightened on the neck of the bottle. “Did you talk to my family?”

He assessed her under heavily lidded eyes but his tone was casual. “Spoke with Kate. Told her we were going to lie low for a few days. She’s going to take care of things on that end until you’re ready.”

“Has David contacted you?”

“Not yet.”

She pondered his answer for a while and chewed on her lip. Still raw, her insides twisted from fear and confusion, as if she’d stepped into Oz and didn’t know how to figure things out yet. “You haven’t asked why.”

“Don’t need to.”

Gen studied him, trying to dig beneath his calm surface. He must be dying of curiosity, but he’d never questioned her once. “Don’t you want to know?”

He surprised her with a half grin. “Hell, yes. You’re my best friend and I had no idea you were struggling. But you’re not ready. When you want to talk, I’ll be here. For now, you need some alcohol and a distraction. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. “Where? We can’t get in a car drinking.”

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