Chapter 19 #2
“Shepherd,” she gasps as my teeth graze her collarbone, my name in her mouth like a prayer I’ve waited years to hear answered. Her hands slide into my hair, tugging with just enough force to send sparks down my spine, lighting up every goddamn nerve ending.
I slip my hands under the hem of her shirt, fingers skimming the impossibly soft skin of her lower back.
Warm satin over taut muscle. She shivers against me, her hips grinding down in a way that makes me see stars.
Christ, I’ve imagined this moment more times than I can count, but fantasy pales against the reality of Sutton in my arms, against my body.
My thumbs brush the undersides of her breasts, and she makes that sound again.
The one that’s going to haunt my dreams for weeks…
maybe years. I capture her mouth once more, swallowing her sounds as my hands move higher, cupping the perfect weight of her through the thin, lace-edged fabric of her bra.
The heat of her burns through the delicate material.
“Is this still okay?” I murmur against her lips, needing to hear her consent again, needing to know she wants this as much as I do. I’ve never needed anyone’s approval like this before, like my next breath depends on her saying yes.
“Yes,” she breathes, arching into my touch, her back forming a perfect curve.
Her fingers find the hem of my shirt, tugging upward. “Take this off,” she commands, her voice breathy and urgent.
I obey without hesitation, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it aside.
Her eyes darken as she takes in my bare chest, her hands immediately exploring the planes and ridges like she’s mapping territory.
When her fingertips brush across my nipples, I can’t stop the groan that escapes me, raw and unfiltered.
“Motherfucker…”
“You like that?” she whispers, a newfound confidence in her voice that makes my blood run hotter.
“I like everything you do,” I admit, watching her face as her palms slide down my stomach.
She leans forward, pressing her lips to my collarbone, then my chest. Each kiss leaves a burning trail on my skin. I’m achingly hard now, straining against my sweatpants, and when she shifts her weight again, the friction nearly undoes me.
“Your turn,” I murmur, tugging gently at her shirt. “May I?”
She nods, lifting her arms as I slowly pull the fabric up and over her head. My breath catches at the sight of her—soft curves encased in simple black lace.
“Beautiful,” I whisper, my fingers tracing the delicate strap of her bra. Her skin is warm beneath my touch, goosebumps rising in the wake of my fingertips. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
Sutton freezes instantly, her body going rigid against mine. The change is so abrupt it’s like someone flipped a switch. Her eyes, which seconds ago were heavy-lidded with desire, now snap wide open, pupils contracting to pinpoints.
“What did you say?” Her voice is barely audible, strained and tight.
I blink, confused by the sudden shift. “I said you’re beautiful.”
She’s already scrambling off my lap, her movements frantic as she reaches for her discarded shirt. Her hands are shaking so badly she can barely grip the fabric.
“Sutton? What’s wrong?” I reach for her, but she flinches away from my touch like it burns.
“I can’t—I can’t do this.” She pulls her shirt over her head with jerky movements, her breathing shallow and rapid. “I’m sorry. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
“What happened?” I start to stand. “Did I hurt you? Did I say something wrong?”
What the fuck is happening?
Another clap of thunder booms outside, causing Sutton to jump, and then she’s practically running for the back door.
“Wait, Sutton. Please.” I try to reach for her but stop short of grabbing her wrist, sensing that kind of contact might make things even worse. “Talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, Shepherd. I’m-I’m sorry.”
Rain lashes against the windows as another crack of thunder shakes the house.
“Don’t be sorry. You’ve done nothing wrong. Sutton! It’s pouring out there,” I call after her, grabbing my shirt from the floor and yanking it on. “Please, just—”
But she’s already gone, the door slamming behind her with enough force to rattle the frame. I stand there for a moment, stunned, my heart pounding and my body still thrumming with desire that’s rapidly giving way to confusion.
What the hell just happened?
One second she was in my lap, her skin warm under my hands, and the next, it was like I’d physically hurt her. Like I burned her. She couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
“Fuck!” I slam my palm against the wall, frustration and confusion warring inside me.
What did I do?
What did I say?
You’re so goddamn beautiful.
The words echo in my head. Such a simple compliment. One I’ve given countless times before without consequence. But something about those words triggered something in her. Something dark and painful that sent her running.
“Goddammit!” Even above the thunder and the rain, her voice rings out across my yard.
Shit! Sutton!
I move to the window, trying to see her through the rain-streaked glass, and when I spot her, I’m shocked to see she’s not heading toward the guest house like I expected.
Instead, she’s pacing back and forth across the yard, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as rain soaks through her clothes.
Even from here, I can see her mouth moving, like she’s arguing with herself.
Shit.
I should give her space. That’s what she needs, right? Space to process whatever just happened?
“Motherfucker!” she shouts again, her hands behind her head now as she paces, clearly working through something.
I want to give her the space to do whatever she needs to do, but I can’t just let her stand out there in the rain, soaked and upset.
Whatever triggered her, she shouldn’t have to face it alone in the middle of a storm.
I grab my jacket from the hook by the door and head outside, the cold rain immediately drenching me.
Lightning flashes across the sky, briefly illuminating Sutton’s figure as she continues pacing, her hands gesturing wildly.
“You’re so fucking stupid!” she yells, and for a second I think she’s talking to me until I realize she can’t see me yet. She’s talking to herself. “Why did you run? Why do you always run?”
I approach slowly, careful not to startle her. “Sutton?”
She whirls around, her soaked hair clinging to her face. Even in the darkness, I can see the mixture of anger and pain in her eyes.
“Go back inside,” she says, her voice trembling. “I’m fine.”
“You’re standing in a thunderstorm yelling at yourself,” I point out gently. “That’s not exactly the definition of fine.”
“What do you want me to say, Shepherd?” she demands, her voice cracking. “That I’m a mess? That I can’t even handle someone telling me I’m beautiful without freaking out? That’s what you said, right? You didn’t say I was goddamn fuckable?”
“What?” I step back, putting more distance between us for her sake, but also because I’m shocked she’s even asking me that. “Sutton, why on earth would I ever say—”
“See?” She flails her arms. “I knew that’s not what you said. I fucking knew it, but my brain wouldn’t let me hear anything but you’re so goddamn fuckable.”
I shake my head, confusion etching across my face. “Sutton, I don’t understand.” I take a step closer, rain plastering my shirt to my skin. “Tell me what you need. Space? I’ll give it to you. Someone to listen? I’m right here.”
“What I need,” she says, laughing bitterly, “is to not be this fucking broken!” She gestures wildly at herself, water flying from her fingertips. “I need to be normal. I need to not panic when a good man touches me and says nice things to me.”
My heart clenches in my chest and my shoulders fall. “Sutton—”
“Do you know how fucked up that is?” she continues, pacing again, barefoot in the cold, wet grass. “To want someone so badly but then the second it gets real, you completely fall apart?”
The raw honesty in her voice pulls at something deep in my chest. I want to wrap her in my arms, shield her from whatever demons are chasing her, but I hold myself back. Right now, she needs space more than comfort.
“I like you,” she says suddenly, stopping to face me.
“I like you so much it terrifies me. And I want you—God, I want you—in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before.
But the second things get real, I can’t…
” Her voice breaks, and the sound cuts through me like a blade.
She brings her clenched fist to her chest like she’s trying to push away the pain.
“I can’t separate what’s happening now from what happened before. ”
I take a cautious step toward her, rain streaming down my face. I’ve been wanting to ask about her past for a while but figured I should wait until she’s ready. I guess it’s now or never.
“What happened before, Sutton?”
Her eyes meet mine, dark with pain and something else. Shame, maybe. It makes my chest ache to see it there.
“He used to think I was beautiful. He said I was beautiful…” She cringes in pain.
“And so goddamn fuckable…right before he—” She cuts herself off, wrapping her arms around herself like she’s trying to hold the pieces together.
“They always say you’re beautiful right before they take what they want. ”
My stomach drops. The pieces click together in a way that makes me want to punch something. Or someone.
“Sutton, you don’t have to believe anything I say if you don’t want to, but I would never—”
“I know that!” she shouts over the rain. “That’s what makes this so fucking infuriating! I know you’re not him. I know you wouldn’t hurt me. But my body doesn’t know that. My brain doesn’t know that.” She looks up at the dark sky, letting the rain pelt her face.
“But I want to know it,” she says, her voice suddenly quiet, almost lost in the rain. “I want my body to know you’re different.”
I stand there, rain soaking through my clothes, trying to find the right words. This isn’t about me. This is about her. About whatever happened to make her associate intimacy with pain.
“Can I come closer?” I ask, keeping my voice steady despite the weather raging around us.
She hesitates, then nods, a small jerky movement.
I take slow, deliberate steps toward her, stopping when we’re close enough that I can see the raindrops clinging to her eyelashes. “I’m not going anywhere, Sutton. Not unless you tell me to.”
“Why?” Her voice breaks on the word. “Why would you want to deal with…” She gestures at herself. “I’m a broken mess.”
I take a tiny step closer, enough to offer my hand to her which surprisingly, she takes. “You’re not broken, Sutton Price.” Her sad eyes find mine in the darkened rain and I reach up to softly move a few drenched tendrils from her face. “You’re just…chipped.”
Her lips part slightly as she takes in my words, rain streaming down her face and mingling with what might be tears. For a moment, we just stand there in the downpour, her hand trembling in mine as she cries.
“Chipped,” she repeats, her voice barely audible over the rain.
“Like your teacups,” I say gently. “Still useful. Still stunning. You still have a purpose in this world. You just have a few battle wounds to accessorize your story.”
She laughs—a small, wet sound that catches in her throat. “That’s a nice way of saying damaged goods.”
“No.” I squeeze her hand, keeping my voice firm but gentle. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
Another flash of lightning illuminates her face, and I can see the war happening behind her eyes, wanting to believe me but afraid to trust her own self. I want to pull her close, shield her from the rain, but I wait. This has to be her choice.
“I’m sorry Shepherd,” she says finally.
I shake my head adamantly. “You never have to apologize for setting boundaries, Sutton. For you or anyone else.”
Her eyes search mine, tired, haunted, and yet somehow hopeful. She opens her mouth twice before the words finally come. “I don’t want boundaries with you,” she whispers, her fingers tightening around mine like she needs me to ground her.
My heart pounds in my chest, a mixture of ache for what she’s been through, disdain for the man or men who hurt her, and pure, unfiltered hope at her words.
Rain pelts my face, my clothes clinging to my skin, but I barely notice the cold.
All I can focus on is Sutton, her vulnerable eyes, her trembling body, and the way she’s looking at me like she needs me and doesn’t know how to ask.
“Stay with me tonight,” I beg her. She shivers violently, whether from the cold or her raw emotions, I don’t know, but her teeth start to chatter as the rain soaks through her clothes.
I step closer, careful of my movements. “Please, Sutton. Stay with me. I promise nothing will happen that you don’t want.
I just can’t bear the thought of you being alone out here.
Not tonight. Let me keep you safe and warm even if it’s just for one night. Please.”
For a long moment, she just stares at me, fear fighting against trust, past trauma battling present desire. I’ve never wanted to protect someone more than right now.
Her frozen fingers tighten around mine, a silent promise in that small pressure. “Okay,” she breathes, the single word hanging between us like a fragile bridge.
Thank fucking Christ.
She steps into me, her other hand gently gripping my soaked T-shirt like she’s hanging on for dear life. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her into my chest, and kiss the top of her head. “You’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”
She sighs in my arms, her shivers more noticeable in my embrace.
Fuck.
She’s freezing.
I’ve got to get her warm.
“Do you trust me, Sutton?” I ask her as gently as I can as more thunder claps around us. For a heartbeat, she just looks at me, rain catching on her eyelashes. Then she nods again, more decisively this time.
“Yes.”