We Were One Once Book 1 (24 page)

I made her stay my sweet,
soft Gillian.

My whip and threats did
what a team of doctors couldn’t. I cured her that night. She stayed
with me, not hiding inside herself or behind her unreadable stares.
All her little cracks filled in with her desire to please me. She
stayed in control and promised to be good. And I believed
her.

She lied and deceived me,
and she ran the next day.

I won’t give her a chance
to run and make a fool of me again.

Anderson Valley: Simon
Lamb

Grace stands in front of my
bedroom door. She’s dressed but won’t move out of the way. “You
know that you’re not really blocking the door, right?” I grin at
her.

“I know you won’t hurt me,
Simon.”

“Have you looked in a mirror
today, sweetheart?” I try for threatening, but it falls short. I
know she’s right. Red I could hurt, and she’d like it. Grace and
all her other versions…fuck. I can’t hurt her at all. “Fine. I
won’t hurt you.
That’s
why you need to go, Grace.”

“It’s why I need to stay,
Simon.”

I laugh, exasperated with
this circular logic again. She’s been trying to convince me to let
her stay, and we’ve been back and forth getting nowhere. When I
threatened to leave her here, locked in the room alone until she
dressed, she finally did, but she kept her string of reasoning
going the whole time.

“That doesn’t make
sense.”

“Maybe not to you, but it
does to us.”

Fuck. There it is again.
Us. It’s insane how quickly I’ve gotten used to talking to her like
she’s a committee. “So why does it make sense to you?” I can feel
that I’m losing ground. I don’t really want to take her back to the
city, but I think it’s the right thing to do. I’ve never been big
on right and wrong, only on getting what I want. Yet, I feel an
overwhelming urge to protect her, even from myself. She hasn’t said
anything so far that’s convinced me that I’m making a
mistake.

“Because you accept me.
Just as we are.” I’m getting used to her crazy way too quickly.
She’s right though. I didn’t even really blink an eye at finding
out that she truly is batshit nuts. I accepted it as the only
answer that ultimately explained all of the other craziness I knew
about her.

It explained my crazy
reaction to her too. I want to be soft and open for her just as
much as I want to torture her. My response to her has splintered
into equal parts of familiar and unfamiliar.

“So?”

“So. We accept you too.
Just as you are.” It’s her first argument that packs a punch—a
crazy punch.

“You accept that I get off
on torture? That I was willing to kidnap you and keep you here
against your will?”

“Yes.” I expect her to say
something more, but she only continues to blink at me.

“This is crazy, Grace!” I
regret the word choice as soon I say it, but she only smiles
sweeter at me and laughs a little. I can’t help but laugh
too.

“Let me ask you something,
Simon…and answer me with complete honesty, okay?”

“I’ve been honest so far,
so why stop now?”

She takes a deep breath.
“Would you have threatened or hurt me when I was playing with my
breakfast earlier, when I was a child that was too young to form
many words even?” I shake my head, remembering her as she was this
morning and at the diner. I was thinking she was a mess and
completely adorable—not a word I’m comfortable using normally. I
had that protective urge again too, not wanting her to notice the
stares from the staff.

“How about when I’m shy and
sheltered, like I was in Chinatown, scared of my own shadow?” I
shake my head again. I saw Grace for the first time when she was
like that. It’s what drew me to her. But now, knowing what I know,
I couldn’t hurt her if she was like that again. I’d want to protect
her, to give her as much space or as little or whatever the fuck
else she’d need to make her feel safer.

“And if I’m wild with anger
and fear?”

“Like with the poker
yesterday?” She nods. “No. I wouldn’t let you hurt yourself or
anyone else either though.” She smiles again, and my stomach sinks.
My heart thumps too loudly in my ears. Fuck.

“And how about now?” Her
sweet voice takes on a little of the huskiness—the bashful lust I
saw from her this morning. She puts her hands on my chest, and her
warmth is almost searing. I feel a lump in my throat that I can’t
swallow down. I can only shake my head. “But you want to hurt the
girl you like to call Red, don’t you?” I shake my head, but it’s
not convincing to either of us. I want to hurt the shit out
of
that
girl.

She smiles. “The girl you
whipped yesterday. The girl you…had sex with before…she likes pain.
She doesn’t feel it like the rest of us. She’s like you…what
frightens us, excites her.”

I put my hands over hers.
“But you’d all feel the pain of what I’d do to your body
eventually.” I move my hands to her shirt, gently gliding over her
stiff nipples. Her gasp is a moan of pleasure though, not the
painful wince I was expecting.

Her eyes close more. “We
have great control of my body, Simon.” It’s an airy, eerie
voice—one I’ve heard from her before. It’s a strange mix of her
soft sweetness and huskier depth, a fog circling around each word
in a slightly halting tempo. When she opens her eyes again, her
voice is back to normal, the normal sweet, soft tone anyway. “I
don’t like pain, but I can ignore it. I can pull myself in just
enough to never feel what happens to me. I’ve done this all my
life. We all have.”

I can see the abused little
girl she must have been, the one that had to become what she is now
in order to survive. What monster hurt such a sweet girl? “I can’t
hurt you more than you’ve already been hurt, Grace. I’m an asshole,
an abusive prick…but I can’t. I said you wouldn’t have choices with
me, and you still don’t. I’m taking you back.”

“And I told you, Simon. You
can’t break me. We’re already broken.” She smiles, and I’m just
about lost. “But you
can
accept me, and that’s good enough for us. For
now.” She stretches up and puts her lips close to mine. “Is it good
enough for you to be accepted?”

I should grab her and get
the hell out of here. I should drag her ass back to San Francisco
and out of my life. I should, but I don’t.

I’m a bad, bad
man.

Instead, I grab her and
lift her straight up, holding her against me, pressing our lips
together in a hard kiss, a kiss that says what I can’t. It’s a kiss
that says what I won’t admit—I want her, I need her. All of her
batshit craziness, it’s what I crave.

Her arms wrap around me,
and I carry her back to my bed. Her lips stay soft against mine;
her tongue seeks me out but gently—our sweet dance. I set her down,
but her hands keep pulling me to her.

I pry her arms loose and
give her a wicked grin. If this is going to work, then she needs to
get used to playing by my rules. She frowns and smiles; her shy
looks make me harder.

“Get undressed, Grace.” She
seems nervous. Her fingers fidget and fly over her clothes, trying
to get them off quickly for me. I don’t help her, just keep
watching. Grace has a matching red bra and underwear set on. It’s
sweet but still sexy. “Stop right there.”

The marks on her body are
graffiti on her creamy canvas. Most are fading, but some are
thicker and heavier in places. I run my hands gently over her
shoulders and down her sides. She shivers and wiggles for
me.

I lean over and whisper in
her ear, “Stay still, sweet girl.” She smiles her
answer.

I run my hands back up her
stomach, over her tits and chest, feeling the deeper welts.
Amazingly, Grace gasps in need, her hunger obvious, her eyes
closing partially. I know she said she could withdraw herself from
the pain, but I’m still in awe of her. I’m being gentle, but I know
it has to sting in spots.

“Now you can finish
undressing for me.” She opens her eyes, and the sweetness I see
there is only made deeper by the lust that has her cheeks flushed.
She quickly removes everything and stands ready for me. She may be
innocent, but she’s also very submissive, giving in to her pleasure
at pleasing me with her obedience.

I pull her face to mine,
rubbing my thumbs over her cheeks. I still wince seeing the bruise
next to her beautiful mouth. Her smile changes and a laugh enters
her voice. “Would it help if I hit
you
, Simon?” I bring my eyes back up
to hers and can see more laughter waiting to spill.

“You better never,
sweetheart.” But I smile at her too. I whisper a kiss over the side
of her mouth. I have no idea how any of this will work out, but
right now, I don’t give a shit. I just want her, and she’s right; I
want all of her, even if that means only getting a piece at a
time.

I stand back and get my own
clothes off quickly. Grace is still nervous, still tentative, but
her eyes aren’t bashful anymore. She follows my every move, licking
her lips even. I put my thumb against her lower lip, ignoring the
bruise now, just as Grace is so easily able to do. She opens and
sucks my thumb, her eyes pleading for more—pleading her desire to
please me.

“On the bed.” She makes me
laugh by falling backwards, arms out like a child in the snow. She
reaches with her hands out to me. I collapse on top of her, feeling
a strange longing to stay in her embrace. I want to lose whole days
feeling her warmth, claiming every inch of her, stealing all her
sweet smiles with a kiss.

Her hips moving under me
take my thoughts in a different direction though. I push her legs
open with mine. Her hips tilt, and she brings her legs up around my
waist. Our lips find each other just as I enter her. Her soft cry
out fills my mouth.

I’m not as gentle this
time. I push into her with more need, and she responds with her
own. We stay close, pressing every inch together that we can. Our
lips never leave each other. I lift her off the bed with one hand
under her, pushing her to me, me to her. Our hips move together,
only apart as far as we can reach without letting go, then smashing
together as tight as possible. Our grunts are in sync. Panting
heavily, we come together. I don’t let her go, staying in her as
long as I can, smothering her body and mouth.

When our skin grows cold, I
finally move to her side. She whimpers when our lips are no longer
touching. I prop myself up on my elbow so I can look down on her,
tracing the lines of her face with one finger. “You are such a
sweet girl, Grace. I’ll never hurt you. I promise.” She kisses my
finger when I brush over her lips, over her smile. I look up and
see the syrup sitting on the nightstand. “Oh, damn. I meant to use
that on you.”

She laughs her deep laugh. I
know before looking down that she’s changed; she’s no longer the
soft, sweet version I just made love to. Her mischievous grin is
back. “Save the sweet stuff, Trust.
I
prefer what’s in your
cabinet.”

I lean down and kiss her
throat; she laughs for me again. “Stay right here, Red.” I move off
the bed. When I reach the armoire, I turn around to look at
her.

She stretches out for me,
opening her legs and putting her hands over her head. She’s a
perfect invitation to use and abuse her—a wanton lust for what she
knows comes next. I have no idea how any of this can work, but I
think I just hit the jackpot. I can have my sweet cake and beat it
too.