This woman is going to be the fucking death of me, but I can still taste her on my lips and still feel the soft, heaviness of her breast in the palm of my hand and the only thought in my mind right now is that it sure would be a great fucking way to die. Turning around, I lean back against the counter and stare at the doorway where Gwen disappeared, running baseball stats through my head until I can finally move without my dick feeling like it’s going to explode.

Gwen comes back in the kitchen a few minutes later and stops in the doorway. Our eyes meet and for a few uncomfortable seconds, I can tell she’s replaying every single moment of what just happened in this room before Emma interrupted us. I watch her cheeks flush and I can’t tell if it’s because she’s getting turned on again or because she’s embarrassed. As much as I want a repeat performance of what just happened, preferably without clothes this time, we need to talk. I need to know about her ex husband and I need to know what kind of a threat he is.

“Look, we need to-”

She immediately cuts me of. “It’s late and I need to be up early tomorrow. Thanks for watching Emma, I really appreciate it.”

Without another word, she turns and heads towards the front door. There’s nothing for me to do at this point but follow her. When I walk into the room, she’s standing with the door open, staring down at her feet like they’re the most interesting fucking things in the world.

I try again to get her to talk to me. “Gwen, we really need to talk.”

“Look, it’s been a long night. I’m not really in the mood to rehash things. I was pissed when I got home and that… shouldn’t have happened,” she tells me, gesturing towards the kitchen. “It’s not going to happen again so let’s just forget about it.”

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

I’m not a chick. I don’t need to talk about my feelings and discuss the pros and cons of what we just did in the kitchen. When I have my tongue down some woman’s throat and her tits in my hand, I don’t need to sit down and discuss it. At least we’re on the same page on one thing – it never should have happened.

So why the fuck am I so pissed that she’s dismissing me? I need to ask her about her ex, but all I can think about is how nonchalant she seems about what happened.

Well, fuck you very much then.

I don’t like the shit ton of emotions her words are making me feel, not the least of which is rejection, so I lash out at her without even thinking about what I’m saying. “I’d say it was good for me, but… well, it wasn’t. And you don’t have to worry about me repeating that mistake, darlin’. I prefer a woman who isn’t such a fucking tease.”

Ignoring the pained look on Gwen’s face, I grab the handle of the door and slam it closed on my way out.

Chapter 12

Gwen

“Please, keep your voice down. Emma might hear you.”

My pleading fell on deaf ears as William tightened his hold on my arm and roughly yanked me closer to him.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do! Maybe it’s about time our daughter finds out what a slut her mother is,” he shouted, his lips curled back in an angry snarl.

I used to love those lips. I used to trace my fingertips over them when we would lie in bed at night.

I stared at his lips as his hand squeezed around my upper arm so hard that I knew there would be a bruise left behind in the shape of his fingers. It wouldn’t be the first time and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Suddenly, the thought that I would spend the rest of my days walking on eggshells, hiding bruises and wearing clothing that covered scars seemed like a worse fate than dying.

William shoved me roughly away from him and I stumbled backwards, my feet getting tangled in each other and my hip hitting the corner of his desk.

“Son of a bitch,” I whispered, wincing in pain.

The swear slipped passed my lips without conscious thought as I pressed my hand to the tender skin of my hip. William doesn’t like women who swear. I should have been more careful.

He charged at me and I had just enough time to brace myself for the fist that connected with my cheek. The force of the blow sent my body away from him and I sprawled across the top of his desk, my arms flying out to catch my fall. Medical books, patient records, his laptop and a cup full of pens went crashing to the floor. He hadn’t hit me in the face since that very first time. Too many people questioned what had happened to me and he couldn’t take the chance of anyone finding out. After that, he was careful to inflict his pain only to places where no one would see – my thighs, my stomach, my back, my arms… so his lack of concern about the bruise that would surely grace my cheek tomorrow scared me to death.

His hand clutched onto a handful of my long, blonde hair on the back of my head and he dragged me up from the desk, pulling my head back until I stared up into his furious face.

My cheek throbbed from the punch and I blinked back tears as my hands reached up blindly behind my head to try and get him to let go of me.

“Does the guy you’ve been fucking behind my back have a mouth like that?” he questioned angrily.

“William, there’s no one else, I swear to you,” I sobbed, my tear-filled eyes pleading with him to believe me.

My arms up, clutching onto his hand at the back of my head, I’d inadvertently left my body wide open for him. His fist slammed into my ribs, stealing the breath from my lungs as a sharp pain shot down my side. His balled up fist connected with the same spot again and again until blackness swam at the edge of my vision and I heard the snap of a rib breaking.

He shoved me away from him again and I could do nothing but crumple to the floor, the pain in my side so severe that I knew I was going to throw up. Nausea swirled around in my stomach as I held my hands to my ribs, my breath coming out in short bursts, each one sending a fiery burn down the side of my body until I dry heaved.

“You’re a liar and a whore. I’ve done everything for you and this is how you repay me?” he shouted, standing above me.

I wanted to tell him not to yell, that Emma was going to wake up and see what was happening, but I couldn’t form the words. The pain in my ribs was so bad I knew I was going to black out soon.

I was so busy struggling to breathe face down on the carpet in his office that I didn’t even see him pull his leg back. I didn’t see his dress shoe covered foot coming towards me until I feel the crunch of bone in my bicep.

“You’re a fucking tease! No wonder you let someone else screw you.”

I bolt up in bed, my body covered in sweat and my heart racing. I unconsciously wrap my arms around myself, recalling the pain of broken ribs and blows to my body from that final beating, the last time I ever allowed William to hurt me. Glancing over at the clock on my nightstand, the red glowing lights read three-fifteen and I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep. Austin’s cocky words from earlier that night play on a loop in my head.

Fucking tease, fucking tease, fucking tease.

I know he didn’t mean them the same way William did. I know he only said that to me because I pushed him away. I got home from dinner with Ellie and I couldn’t think straight. Overwhelmed by fear and shaken to the core by her betrayal, I just wanted to forget about everything Ellie told me and the clusterfuck my life has become if only for a moment. I used him, never thinking about what I was doing, simply wanting to do something to erase it all. I didn’t want to think about William or Ellie or how betrayed I felt by my best friend. I had no idea that kissing Austin would only fill my mind with more doubt and confusion. I didn’t think I would ever want to be touched by another man ever again, but having his body against mine, feeling his need for me pushing between my legs… it made everything go away until there was only him. I shouldn’t have pushed him away like I did, but I had to. If Emma hadn’t come into the kitchen when she did, I wouldn’t have stopped him from going further. I would have stripped bare for him and he would have seen all of my scars – physically and mentally. It’s better this way. I’m no good for him or any man. I’m damaged and that’s the way it’s always going to be. Underneath that smart-ass nature is a man who’s passionate, generous, protective and pours himself into something one hundred percent. I don’t have one hundred percent of myself to give anyone other than Emma.

When I get to the office in a few hours, I’ll tell him everything. He’ll pity me and he look at me like a victim, but at least then he’ll understand why I can’t do this with him or anyone.

Getting out of bed, I make my way to the bathroom to shower off the sweat and feelings of anxiety the dream left in its wake. When I’m finished, I quietly creep into Emma’s room and gently sit on the edge of her bed. I watch her chest rise and fall with the deep breaths of sleep and I softly run the backs of my fingers down her cheek.

Every single day since I walked out of the house William and I shared with just one single bag filled with as much of my and Emma’s things that would fit inside of it, I’ve second-guessed my decision. What kind of a mother takes a child away from her father? William always wanted a boy and the disappointment when we found out we were having a girl was evident. He never spent one-on-one time with her, never read her a bedtime story or did any other special things that a father should do with his daughter, but he still loved her in his own way. He hurt me, he bruised me and he broke me. After I left the hospital three days after that night, the only thing I could think about was – what if he would have killed me? Emma would be alone with him. What if he decided to use her as his punching bag in my absence? I knew if I stayed with him, he would eventually kill me and I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her at his mercy.