Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
SHAW
Monroe is at war with her mind. She craves everything I said, and I’d be lying if I didn’t mention that my dick is rock hard just from telling her the things I’d like to do to her.
I left off the part about riding her from behind, taking everything she has to offer, because that would scare her off.
Eventually, she’ll be ready for it, though.
Rolling away from her tempting body, I lie on my back beside her, staring up at the cloudless sky, trying to imagine what she’s thinking.
I recognize I can’t begin to understand what her life in the spotlight must be like or the damage that comes with it.
But I want to. I want to know every hardship, all the ups and downs, and why she’s cooperated for so damn long.
“When I was a little girl, I used to dream of floating from cloud to cloud. Jumping across them like rocks in a creek.”
“And now?”
“I can’t remember the last time I took a moment to stop and admire the beauty of Mother Nature.
” Getting to her feet, Monroe removes her shoes and poses in one of her ballet stances.
“Ophelia used to make me dance in the rain. We would spend hours in the parking lot of whatever hotel we were staying at and dance, pretending the thunder was our orchestra.”
“That sounds dangerous.” I’m a little angry that someone would force a child to stay out in the elements like that.
“I loved it. I would twirl and pirouette to the beat of every drop, and when thunder rolled, I’d spin until I couldn’t feel my toes.” She does the moves, mimicking what she once performed.
“Why do you stay?” It’s apparent she loves the freedom of dancing, but the anxiety from being around people who exploit her bleeds through her voice.
Monroe drops to her knees beside me, and her answer cramps my heart. “I’m not good at anything else. What would I do?”
That's a loaded question. Loaded with her fears and the desires she’s been coerced into forgetting.
“You have plenty of time to figure it out now.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, Mari’s booming call vibrates through the valley.
“I could be a cow whisperer, I suppose.” Her unguarded snort and giggle light up her face. Monroe thinks she’s this crushed person who follows orders, but as time passes, I see more and more of the girl who yearns to experience life shine through.
Handing her a container of mixed fruit, Monroe doesn’t hesitate to open it and pop a berry into her mouth.
I’ve discovered fruit is her food of choice; cheese is a close second.
“Drink.” I hand her an electrolyte drink, and she gulps half of it down before her eyes shift to admire the scenery again.
“What did you do before this?” she asks, her eyes returning to mine, filled with genuine curiosity.
“I was a Delta Force operative.” Most of what I’ve done is classified.
She seems to understand that and doesn’t ask for stories about my missions. “Why did you leave?”
I shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of my injuries. “Got blown up, needed a hip replacement and rehab. Too injured to return on full duty.” Dropping my gaze to stare at my sandwich, my hip throbs, reminding me of the traumatic experience.
Monroe’s soft hand drapes over my forearm as she quietly says, “I’m sorry, Shaw,” with a wealth of understanding in her tone. This damn woman keeps surprising me.
I pop the lid back on her fruit, drag her into my lap, and together we bask in the silence as the sun begins its slow descent. The way her body relaxes so effortlessly into me tells me everything I need to know about this woman and our future… That there will be one.
Kissing along her neck and shoulders, she sighs and says, “I don’t think I ever want to leave here,” then freezes, like she didn’t mean to say that part out loud.
Gripping her chin, I turn her head so she can see how serious I am as I reply, “Good, because I don’t want you leaving.” Meeting her lips with mine, I keep the kiss soft and light. “But first, we need to figure out this stalker of yours.”
Her mouth droops, and I hate that I did that to her.
“It’s my mother.” Those words stop me short.
“How do you know?” I ask. She shrugs and tries to turn away. “Tell me what you know.” My tone is sharper than intended, but I’m not a fan of being lied to either.
“I’m not one hundred percent certain, but it makes sense.” Her chin drops to her chest, but I don’t miss the tears welling up in her eyes.
“Some of those threats are very graphic, Monroe. The things left in your rooms… That’s not something that can be faked.” The dead rodents, the pornographic images. Threatening to rape her in the middle of the night. A mother wouldn’t do that, would she?
“I overheard a conversation a couple of months ago.” Her sagging shoulders scream defeat. She believes I’ll turn on her now.