What started as an affectionate brush of his lips soon deepened into something that made her ache. She leaned on him for support, blaming the alcohol she’d consumed earlier for the sudden weakness in her legs.
“Isn’t that the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen, Jon?” Eric said from just inside the door. He took off his motorcycle helmet and set it down on the driver’s seat. “Little man has a girlfriend.”
“If by sweetest you mean the most nauseating, then I’d have to agree,” Jon, acting as Eric’s shadow, said.
Aggie extended an arm in their direction and gave them the finger.
“Did you see that, Eric? She propositioned us,” Jon said.
“All right!” Eric clapped his hands. “You bang her. I’ll watch.”
Jace eased away, his eyes drifting open slowly. “Did you hear something, Aggie? Sounded like a couple of pussies crying for something they’ll never have.”
“Or be able to handle.” She slapped Jace’s ass hard and then squeezed until his breath caught with excitement. “There’s a paddle in the bedroom with your name on it, sugar.”
“She scares the hell out of me,” Jon whispered.
“Me too,” Eric agreed.
“What do you have to be scared of? My favorite whip was stolen, you wimps.”
Jace squeezed Aggie’s shoulder consolingly. “Don’t worry, baby, we’ll get you a new one.”
Her eyes widened with eagerness. “With a thorn?”
Jace grinned. “Oh yeah. Definitely one with a thorn.”
They continued past Eric and Jon on their way out of the bus.
“And can I get a new crop? And a flail?”
“Anything you want, as long as you promise to break them all in on me.”
“Aww, can’t I hit them?” She nodded over her shoulder at Eric and Jon. “Just a little bit? I’ll clean off their blood when I’m finished. I wouldn’t want to spread their diseases.”
“I’ll think about it.” As soon as they exited the bus, Jace burst into laughter. “Did you see their faces?”
Not really. She’d been too busy looking at the smile on his.
Chapter 29
Jace’s eyes flipped open, his heart still thumping with terror. He hadn’t had that nightmare about his mother’s death in years. Now it haunted him regularly.
A hand stroked his belly in the darkness. “You okay?” Aggie murmured groggily.
“Yeah.”
“You’ve been moaning in your sleep.”
“Nightmares. I probably shouldn’t eat a twelve-ounce steak right before bed.”
She cuddled closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Pain snaked through his chest as the weight of her head disturbed one of his slowly healing wounds. He kept all protest to himself. He wanted her there to remind him that he deserved it. The pain.
“Tell me about it.”
“You don’t want to hear it.”
“Was it about killing your father?”
He hesitated. He should have never told her about his father in the first place. “No, it was about my mother’s death.”
“How old were you?”
“Nine.”
“That’s the same age I was when Grams passed away. How did your mother die?”
“We were in a head-on car accident. I was in the backseat when it happened. Wasn’t injured. She lived for a day. Broken back. Multiple internal injuries. Her face was pulverized.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
Thinking about it made his stomach clench with disgust. Not with his mother. With himself. “I was afraid of her—afraid of my own mother. Just because of the way she looked. So I never said good-bye. My father never forgave me for surviving the crash.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “That’s horrible. No wonder you have nightmares about it.”
“I haven’t for a long time though. I thought I’d finally buried it for good. It must’ve been that hospital stay that brought it all back.” Or you. He pulled his hand from hers and rolled onto his side, dislodging her from his shoulder.
She snuggled against his back, her arm stealing around his waist. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me. I know it’s hard for you.”
He snorted. “Are you this caring and understanding with everyone?”
“No. As a rule, I hate men.” She chuckled. “You’re just lucky I latched onto you, I guess.”
“Enjoying your little pity party?”
Her breath caught. “Wow, Jace. That was hurtful.”
He didn’t like the breathless quality of her voice. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted her to hurt him. He turned to face her and cupped her cheek in the darkness, feeling the wetness of her tears against his fingertips. His heart squeezed. He’d made her cry?
“Do you really think the reason I’m here is because I pity you?” she asked.
Of course that was why she was there. Why else would she be? “Don’t you?”
Her hand covered his upon her cheek. “I sympathize, Jace. I want to take your pain and replace it with laughter, but that’s not pity.”
“I don’t want you to take my pain, Aggie. I need it.”
“Why? Because you feel guilty about your mom? About whatever you did to your father?”
“I do feel guilty, but that’s not why I need it.”
“Then why? Help me understand, Jace. You know I’ll hurt you physically as long as you need it, but I want to know why.”
“It’s what I deserve. And sometimes I think even pain is too good for me.”
She kissed him tenderly. “You’re wrong. You don’t deserve pain. You deserve to be happy.”
“I’m happy enough. I have my music.”
“Yes, I’m glad you have something important to you. And you have…” She hesitated. “…me.”
His heart skipped a beat. “I’m not sure what to do about that actually.”
“Do you like me?”
“Very much.”
“Then just go with it.”
“Go with it?” This conversation was getting entirely too serious and high-pressure. He took a deep breath. “Does going with it involve you tying me up and doing things to me against my will?”
“Maybe.”
He pushed her onto her back and covered her body with his.
“Awesome.”
Before he could kiss her, she asked, “Will you tell me about your father?”