Unfinished Hero 02 Creed (19 page)

His lips went to my ear. “They’re dead, Sylvie. We’re here. We’re together. We’re breathin’ and they are fuckin’
dead.
” I listened to him pull in a breath before he finished, “We win.”

We win.

I dropped my head.

Creed’s other hand left the edge of the sink and wrapped around my chest.

He held me that way a long time. Then he moved from me but took my hand, guided me gently from the sink and out of the kitchen, through the dining room into the living room where he took me to the couch. Positioning me with his hand in mine, he let me go but put both his hands to my shoulders and pressed lightly.

I sat on the couch.

He leaned into me and framed my face with both hands, so close, his shadowed, scarred for me beauty was all I could see.

“Wait here. I’ll be back,” he whispered.

I nodded, moving his hands with my head.

His hands tipped my head forward, he kissed the hair at the top then he let me go. I watched his shadowed form leave the room.

He came back in less than a minute and I noted vaguely he was wearing jeans. He also was carrying a bag.

He came to the couch, upended it and a bunch of small, mismatched jewelry boxes fell out on the couch beside me.

“Knight gave me your name, I wasted no time findin’ you. Saw you then I flew home and got these,” he murmured.

He tossed the bag to my coffee table and pawed through the boxes in the dark. He found the one he wanted, flipped it open and with a tug, yanked out a necklace.

I stopped breathing.

The gold glinted in the moonlight. I saw the gemstone pendant hanging. I couldn’t see the color in the shadows but I knew.

I knew.

He held it toward me.

“That was the one I didn’t get to give to you by the lake on your eighteenth birthday.”

I started shivering. My hand lifting up like it had a mind of its own, Creed draped the necklace over it, gem to my palm before he went back to pawing through the boxes.

He found one, opened it, yanked out another necklace.

“This one I bought for your next birthday,” he muttered and draped it, gem to my palm, over my still raised hand.

The tears hit my eyes.

Creed went back to pawing, found a box and tugged out another necklace.

“This one was when you turned twenty,” he whispered.

Wet slid down my cheeks.

Back to the boxes again, again, until the necklaces draped over my hand numbered fifteen.

When he was done, his hand curled around mine, palm to palm, his fingers curved around the chains and he leaned deep, his lips at my ear.

“You were gone but I had more than the tat, Sylvie. I didn’t get it then but I get it now. They never fuckin’ took you away from me.”

My breath hitched and my voice trembled as I told him, “I have the others.”

“I know.”

“They took you away from me.”

His hand squeezed mine, the pendants and chains digging into my skin.

“I’m back, baby.”

At his words and all they meant to me, nearly sixteen years of wanting just that, despairing I’d never have it, I lurched out of the couch, my free arm hooking around his neck. I barely got it positioned before I fell right back, pulling him down on me and into the couch.

Boxes went flying. His fingers scraped through the chains, gathering them. He lifted up and tossed them across our bodies toward the coffee table and he came back to me.

His mouth coming down, mine going up, we collided, lips opening, tongues out tangling. We kissed as his fingers curled into my panties at the sides. He tugged them down then tore his mouth from mine and moved away, yanking them off. His hands came to my hips, jerking them sideways, he got on his knees on the floor, pressed open my legs, his hands shoved under, fingers digging in my ass, he pulled me up as he went down and his mouth was on me.

My neck arched, my fingers slid into his hair, I pushed down as he pulled up and feasted on me.

Breathing hard, it came fast, it was going to consume me so I lifted my head and urgently whispered, “
Creed
.”

His head came up and he muttered, “Two seconds, Sylvie, condoms in the other room.”

I pulled myself up, my hands reaching for his fly. “Fuck it.”

“Sylvie.”

My head dipped back as I undid buttons and my eyes found his. “I need you, baby.”

He shoved my hands aside and took over for me. I tugged his jeans down over his hips even as he got up and put a knee into the couch. I spread my legs, he fell forward on his forearms beside me and thrust deep.

My mouth opened on a silent moan and I shoved it in his neck, my tongue coming out, tasting him there. I circled him and held tight with everything I had available to me.

“Baby, mouth.”

That was Creed. I dropped my head back, Creed’s mouth came to mine and he drove deep with his cock
and
his tongue.

My arms moved from around him, found his, trailed down and pulled hard so his weight hit me.

His head came up.

I laced my fingers in his and pulled both our arms over my head, twisting our hands so mine were to the cushions.

He ground deep with his cock and growled, “Fuck, baby.”

“Take me.”

“
Fuck. Baby.
”

It was guttural.

It was beautiful.

Creed pressed my hands into the cushions, his forearms pressed too, beside mine. He took his weight off me, angling his body up, his hips still driving deep. I watched his shadowed head drop and he looked down the length of our bodies in order to watch as he fucked me.

My legs left him, I brought my knees high and his pounding went
deep.

My moan sounded more like a cry and his eyes shot to my face.

“I love you, Sylvie,” he grunted, driving hard, fast.

“Baby,” I gasped. It was coming over me.

He dropped down, holding me still pinned to the couch, his lips sliding along my cheek to my ear.

“Born to love you, Sylvie.”

I rocked my hips back to meet each thrust and panted, my fingers squeezing his holding mine down to the cushions.

“Born to love you, baby,” he repeated. “Die lovin’ you, my Sylvie.”

My neck arched, my pussy clenched, my clit spasmed, my thighs pressed tight to his sides, his mouth went to my throat and I cried out his name as I came with Tucker Creed still drilling deep inside me.

Oh yeah.

Fuck yeah.

He was right.

We win.

Wishing Away the Years

A late, cool, autumn night in Kentucky, eighteen years earlier, Creed is twenty-one, Sylvie is sixteen…

The house was silent as I walked through it in the dark. Daddy was away on business. The stepmonster was visiting her sister in Atlanta.

I was coming home from a date.

I opened the door to my bedroom and the minute I did, the light came on.

I let out a little scream and, when my eyes adjusted, I stared.

Creed was lounging on my bed, back to the headboard, long legs straight, booted feet crossed at the ankles.

“Missed your curfew,” he said low and I blinked.

This had never happened before. As in ever. Not for ten whole years.

Still, it was Creed and always with Creed and me, anything went and as always I was happy to see him.

“Hey,” I greeted, walking in and closing the door behind me, grinning at him. “What’re you doing here?”

“Missed your curfew, Sylvie, by two fuckin’ hours.”

I stopped and stared at him. “What?”

“It’s past midnight.”

I tilted my head to the side. “So?”

He didn’t answer my question, he asked one instead, “You out with Dixon?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“He’s an asshole.”

I shook my head. “No he’s not, Creed. That’s mean.” I studied him, not liking the look on his face or the feel he was giving the room so I asked, “What is this? Why are you here and being weird?”

He lifted his feet, twisted his lower body and came off my bed, standing tall and, even though I wasn’t close, I still had to tilt my head back to look at him.

“You’re not that girl,” he announced.

I put my hands on my hips. “What girl?”

“The
easy
girl.”

My chest squeezed.

“
What?
” I breathed.

“Dixon is a dick,” he stated.

“Stop saying stuff like that!” I snapped.

He took two steps to me and then rocked to a halt. “He’s too old for you.”

“He’s eighteen.”

“Too old,” he decreed.

“This is crazy!” I hissed. “What’s your problem?”

“That guy, Sylvie,” he shook his head, “not a good guy. Only man richer in the county than his Daddy is
your
Daddy. He says everywhere he won’t have to work a day in his life and still be rich. And you know what? He’s right. And you know what else? Makes him an asshole dick that he’s down with that.”

I moved away from him, tossed my purse on a chair in the corner and whirled back to him. “I’m not marrying him, Creed, we’ve only had one date.”

“Don’t let there be another one.”

I planted my hands on my hips again and shot back, “Not for you to say.”

“Every girl he dates is easy, hopin’ for access to the pool and the horse stables and the rides in his sports car. You already got that shit, Sylvie, you don’t need him to give it to you.”

“I’m not dating him because he’s rich, Creed. I’m dating him because he’s
cute.
”

“And you datin’ him says somethin’ about you, not him, and it’s not good. So stop doin’ it.”

I threw out a hand asking, “You know what?” Then I didn’t wait for him to answer and went on, “
You’re
being a dick. This is none of your business!”

“You’re my business, Sylvie.”

“No, I’m not. Or at least this part of me isn’t,” I retorted and he leaned into me, his handsome face twisting in a strange way.

“Yeah, you are. All of you. You’re
my
Sylvie.”

I sucked in a breath and held it even as I felt every inch of my skin tingle.

He leaned back, scowling at me then he looked away.

Tearing a hand through his hair, he muttered, “Jacked. Even sick. Totally fuckin’ illegal.”

“What?” I whispered and his eyes cut back to me.

“Do not go on another date with Jason Dixon.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it means something to me.”

I pulled in another breath and looked away.

“Sylvie,” he called and I looked back. “Promise me.”

I clenched my teeth. Then I nodded.

“Is that a promise?” he pushed.

“Yeah,” I bit out.

He stared at me and I stared back.

We did this a long time.

He broke the silence.

“Dad would be pissed.”

“About what?” I asked.

His striking blue eyes moved the length of me and my skin started tingling again.

Then they locked on mine.

“He’d be pissed at me… wishing away the years.”

With that, he left, slamming the door behind him.

I stared at the door and realized I was breathing heavily.

Then I closed my eyes tight wondering what on earth all that was about.

I opened them and forced myself to get ready for bed.

But I did not sleep.

Issues with My Man Being a Badass

Present day…

I walked into the bedroom and saw Creed in my bed, up on a forearm looking both pissed and sleepy.

Oh, and hot.

“Where the fuck you been?” he growled and I stopped dead. When I didn’t answer, just kept staring at him, he went on, “Baby, get this, woke up without you for sixteen years. Got you back for good yesterday. Don’t wanna do that shit again. You get up, you wake me. Even if it’s just to kiss me and tell me you’re leavin’ our bed. You with me?”

I kept staring at him.

“Sylvie,” he continued growling. “Are you with me?”

I took off running and, close to the bed, took a flying leap, arms wide and landed flat on top of him.

He grunted and so did I. His hands had curled around my waist while I was on the downward plunge and his fingers dug in as I lifted my head to look down at him.

“Morning!” I chirped and he started grinning but stopped when his eyes dropped to my throat and I felt his entire body go stone-still.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Love them,” I told him.

His eyes came back to mine and they were agonized.

“Fuck,” he repeated in a whisper.

I ignored the agony and dipped my face close.

“Every one of them,” I whispered back.

“You wearin’ them all?”

“All twenty-six. Even the ones you got me when I was a little girl. They’re tight but I'm wearing them.”

His hand went from my waist, pressing in, trailing up my body then I felt his fingers weave through the tangle of chains.

I’d gotten up
way
early because they were calling me. So I left Creed in bed, went to my dresser, got the old then went out to the living room to collect and inspect the new.

And every last one of them I put on.

“Dreamed of this,” he murmured, his eyes glued to the chains. I dropped my head to rest my forehead on his. “Dreamed of seein’ you again, my green at your neck.”

“Guess today that makes me the woman who can make dreams come true,” I remarked, trying to keep it light and his eyes came to mine, so close, so blue. Gorgeous.

“Yeah,” he said softly and I watched a light ignite in his eyes. “Though, never dreamed of you wearin’ all of them at once.”

I pulled my head away and tucked my chin in my throat in the wasted effort of trying to see them, doing this muttering, “I don’t know.” I looked back at him and smiled. “I think they look
awesome.
”

He smiled back and my smile got bigger but his faded as he lifted both hands to either side of my head and held them there, his eyes moving over my face, his hands holding me steady.

“You love me?” he asked quietly.

I dipped my face close and answered quietly, “On a cold night, a long time ago, you put your hands almost exactly where they are right now and, I might have been six years old, but I fell hard. So, yeah. For over twenty-seven years, every day, every minute, every second, I’ve loved you, Tucker Creed.”