Commanding Her Trust (6 page)

Blake’s words echoed through her head. A moment later, Erin’s eyes slid closed with a curse. Her arm went limp, the showerhead sliding down to pelt water against her thigh.

No matter what the rational part of her thought about the games she and Blake were playing, it seemed her body had decided Blake’s happiness was essential. It wasn’t going to let her come because it didn’t want to displease the man downstairs.

Apparently, her good little submissive act hadn’t been as much of an act as she’d thought. And now she was going to have to wait until morning for relief. Her twisted libido wouldn’t allow her to do anything else.

The realization was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

This wasn’t the first time she’d wished she’d never started exploring this side of herself, never admitted she craved the act of submission. The highs were admittedly very high, but the lows of the past two years should have taught her the danger in walking this path.

She
needed to be in control right now. She had to concentrate on getting her life back on track, not on servicing another man. Even if this was only for a weekend, it wasn’t smart.

Hell, if her head had already decided obeying Blake was
necessary
in order to claim her own pleasure, this was downright dangerous.

Tears of fear and frustration flowed down her cheeks as she finished her shower and dried off. She pulled on the panties and nightshirt Blake had brought for her, but even the soft fabric felt abrasive against her sensitized skin. She brushed her hair with swift, rough strokes, and, after a little searching, found the toothbrush and toothpaste.

She’d just finished rinsing her mouth when footsteps sounded on the stairs, making her hurry to complete her nighttime routine and escape to the relative safety of her bedroom.

If she had to see Blake again or smell the addictive scent of the man she loved, she’d—

“No. No, no, no.” Erin chanted the mantra under her breath as she dashed to the bed, snapped off the bedside lamp, and curled into a ball beneath the covers.

She
wasn’t
falling in love with Blake again. It was impossible. They’d only been back together for a night and no amount of hot sex could make up for quality time spent learning to care for each other again.

Unless, of course, she had never
stopped
loving him in the first place.

Erin moaned softly into the luxurious pillowcase, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks, though the reason for them wasn’t completely clear.

Was she crying for herself, or for Blake? For what they’d lost, or for what they’d never have again, no matter how hot the chemistry was between them?

She didn’t know.

There were many things in life that confused her, but love had always been the biggest and most confusing thing of all.

CHAPTER EIGHT
Erin

When Erin woke up the next morning, the room was aglow with soft yellow light and a slightly rumpled Blake was lying beside her, propped up on one elbow, watching her sleep. Even before she’d had a chance to shake off the sleep cobwebs, the tender expression on his face brought her fears from the night before rushing back with a vengeance.

The surge of anxiety was strong enough to make her scoot a few inches away, despite the fact that the heat rolling from Blake’s body made her long to curl into his chest and go right back to sleep.

Great, now she was craving snuggling in addition to sex. If that wasn’t a sign that she was treading dangerous waters, she didn’t know what was.

“Good morning,” Blake said, his deep voice vibrating across her skin, making her nipples tighten. “Did you sleep well?”

“Pretty well,” she said. “Considering I was dying of frustration when I went to sleep.”

“I’m glad you kept your promise,” he said. “I’d hate to have to neglect your pussy any longer.” A smile pulled at the corners of his full lips, making her want to smile along with him. Blake could be scary-looking when he wanted to be, but when he smiled he was simply…beautiful.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, smile fading.

“That you’re beautiful,” she said, unable to lie when he was looking at her like she was all he needed in the whole world to be happy.

“Not half as beautiful as you are.” His eyes darkened as he reached out, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. “I’d forgotten it was curly when you don’t use that thing on it.”

“It’s called a flattening iron. You bought me one for Christmas sophomore year, remember?”

Erin knew she should keep her thoughts in the present and her interactions with Blake purely physical, but she couldn’t seem to resist a trip down memory lane. It had been so long since anyone had looked at her the way he was looking at her now, with need and affection mixing in his features.

Foolish or not, she craved the warmth in his expression almost as much as she craved his body.

“I forgot what it was called,” he said with a crooked grin. “You’re the only girlfriend I ever lived with, and you know we didn’t spend much time getting ready at home.”

“Yeah, six people sharing one bathroom was fun.” Erin shuddered as she remembered Phil’s Pepto-Bismol-colored toilet and the tub with the cracks up the side. She’d shared the festering lav with Blake, Phil, his wife, and an endlessly shifting group of younger foster kids.

Erin had tried not to remember their names or faces. It was easier that way. If she didn’t get attached, she didn’t have to freak out when they went to school with bruises hidden beneath their clothes or without breakfast in their bellies because Phil had gone on a bender and they didn’t have money left over to buy cereal or milk.

“It was easier to get ready at school.” She closed her eyes and rubbed at the tops, wishing she could wipe away the visions of the sad little faces conjured by her thoughts.

“Yeah,” Blake agreed. “Or in Kevin’s camper.”

Erin’s eyes slit open as she sneaked a peek at Blake’s face. She wondered if he remembered that Kevin’s camper was where they’d spent their last night together. But Blake’s features were calm, impassive. He didn’t seem to make the connection. Of course, he hadn’t known it was their last night. She hadn’t wanted to ruin it for him by telling him their plan was never going to work, not while she was still underage.

There was no way she could have kept living in Casa de la Hell without Blake, and no way Phil would have let a sixteen-year-old minor in his “care” move out to live with her boyfriend. She’d felt like she had no choice but to get out of town,
way
out of town, and make sure Blake wouldn’t be blamed for her disappearance. It was the best thing she could do for him at the time, the only gift she had to give.

“You hungry?” he asked, releasing the curl he’d wrapped around his finger. “I’ve got the stuff to make waffles downstairs. And bacon and eggs, or yogurt, if you want something lighter.”

“You know me, the more food, the better. I still have trouble keeping on weight. Even when I was—” Erin broke off, biting her lip. “Even when I’m getting to the gym as much as I should.”

Shit! She’d nearly mentioned her pregnancy. She didn’t want Blake to know she had a daughter, or that she’d screwed things up so royally right out of the gate. He’d either hate her for letting Scott take Abby—they’d always sworn they would protect their kids if they had any of their own—or he’d decide to go wring Scott’s neck with his bare hands.

As appealing as that image was, Erin didn’t want to be responsible for getting Blake put in jail. And she didn’t want him to feel obligated to help rescue her from the mess she was in, either. She already had a plan in place to rescue herself. She had some money saved and an appointment with the marketing head of Damned Naughty Lingerie next Friday.

Kelsey Greer had always been a big “Angel” fan. She was certain he’d hire her on for the spring catalog photo shoot. Maybe not in her former position as the “it girl,” but the job would still earn her a few grand. Then she’d be in a much better position to keep Abby safe while she fought Scott in court.

Or you could take that fifteen grand Blake’s offering and be in an even better place, even sooner.

Erin bit the inside of her cheek, ignoring the voice of temptation. She didn’t want Blake’s money, especially not for letting him alter her tattoo. Even if she could convince herself that a slightly different fallen angel would serve her modeling career as well as the one she had, she didn’t want to look over her shoulder in the mirror and see anything but what she saw now.

That ink had kept her connected to Blake, no matter how much time and distance had separated them. It had given her comfort in some of her hardest moments, that evidence that she had once been so special to another person.

It was obvious Blake was more crazed than comforted by their matching tats, but she still couldn’t imagine having that part of their past wiped away. Losing this tat would be like losing a piece of herself, her last connection to the girl she’d been and the boy she’d loved so much she’d had no choice but to leave him behind.

“So I guess that’s a yes for breakfast?” Blake asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Yeah.” Erin ignored the tightness in her chest. “Breakfast sounds good.”

Blake cupped her face in his big hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She smiled, determined not to get her feelings hurt by the fact that Blake wanted to erase the evidence of their past.

She’d known that’s what he wanted since last night. Why should it bother her so much more this morning?

Because now you know you still love him, that you never stopped loving him.

“I’m starving, let’s eat.” She tried to sit up, but a rock-hard arm closed around her waist, pinning her to the covers.

“I haven’t forgotten my promise,” Blake said, his hand wandering down to her bare thigh, caressing her with a gentle insistence that had her body waking up faster than a double shot of espresso. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t starving you. You can’t live on love alone.”

“Lust alone, you mean,” Erin said, but the joke fell flat, and Blake’s brow furrowed in response.

He looked almost hurt by the correction.

Could he be feeling the same way she did? The way he had when they were so young and stupid, but so very much in love?

The thought should have been exhilarating. Less than eight hours ago she’d sworn to do whatever it took to make Blake fall for her again, and then use his feelings to make the weekend end the way she wanted it to end.

But now, the thought of Blake loving her just hurt.

It hurt so bad she couldn’t keep her face from crumpling or tears from rising in her eyes.

CHAPTER NINE
Erin

“Babe, don’t cry. What’s wrong?” Blake pulled his hand away from her thigh, surrounding her with his arms and pulling her close to his chest.

He was so much bigger and stronger than he’d been when they were younger, but the feeling of safety that coursed through her when he held her was still the same.

God, why had she ever left him?

No matter how bad things had been at her foster home, she should have stayed and found a way to wait for him.

How had she ever thought she’d be okay without Blake?

Of course, at sixteen, she hadn’t realized how precious he was. She’d known there weren’t a lot of good guys out there, but deep down, she’d assumed she would find another man to give her heart to and move on from her first love. But she hadn’t moved on, not even when things were good with Scott. She’d never loved her husband the way she loved Blake. And on those nights when she knew her marriage was beyond redemption and she’d cried herself to sleep, it wasn’t Scott’s arms she imagined holding her close, making her feel safe and loved.

It was Blake. It had always been Blake. And it probably always would be.

But that didn’t change anything. Blake didn’t want her, not really. If he did, he wouldn’t have written asking her to change her tattoo. He would have written asking to see her again, to see if they could reconnect, go back, or at least start over. He hadn’t known she was married. She’d kept her maiden name. Erin Perry was the name she was known for and certainly sounded more like it belonged to a lingerie model than Erin Sakapatatis.

No, Blake didn’t want her back. He was clearly up for a weekend fling, but what Blake truly wanted was his freedom. Whatever it was he still felt for her, he wanted those feelings gone, and he thought modifying her tattoo was the way to make that happen.

Who knew, maybe it was. Maybe the connection between them would finally be severed when they no longer sported matching ink.

The thought made her sadder than she’d been since the day Scott walked out of her apartment with her baby in his arms.

“I’m okay.” She sniffed, wishing she had a Kleenex. Seconds later, Blake plucked one from the bedside table and pressed it into her hand, reading her mind again, the way he always did.

The small act of compassion was nearly enough to get her tears going again, but she pressed her lips together, fighting for control.

“Listen, I meant what I said,” Blake murmured in that deep, sexy voice of his. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I really don’t want to make you cry.”