Chapter Thirteen
Tiny
The apartment was quiet when we finally made it back, the girls practically sleepwalking after all the excitement.
I headed to the shower in my apartment across the hall from them.
I’d been staying over most nights, but as much as I loved all three of them, even though I hadn’t been around many women for fifteen years, I wasn’t stupid enough not to realize that sometimes, one apartment simply wasn’t big enough for three women.
So I’d kept the suite, and it worked out now.
I didn’t want to get glitter everywhere in Penny’s bathroom.
Good call, too, because when I hit the lights in my bathroom, I looked like a fucking disco ball.
There were streaks of rainbow glitter in my beard, plastered to my arms and even my Goddamn eyebrows.
Beard was nearly solid with so much hairspray, and I left a sparkly trail everywhere I went.
Guess that was what happened when you let a pack of feral children douse you in art supplies.
I turned on the shower and undressed. The quicker I could wash this shit out the quicker I could go find Penny and sweet talk her into fucking me. Because, honestly, I had very little gas left in the tank.
“They’re out cold,” Penny’s voice came from the doorway. She stepped inside and shut the door as I stepped into the shower. “I don’t think Santa himself could wake them up tonight.”
“Come here,” I said, holding out my hand to her. “Help me wash out this shit. Then I want to fuck you.”
She grinned up at me. “Wasn’t sure you’d be up to it.”
“Oh, baby. I’m definitely up to it.” And I was. My cock pulsed and ached, standing at complete attention, needing her touch.
She stepped in the shower with me and reached for my cock. When she wrapped her palm around my dick, I groaned in reaction, my hips thrusting subtly at her.
“Christ, woman,” I growled. “Always need your touch.”
“I need your touch too,” she whispered, leaning into me as warm water cascaded over us both. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”
Thank God, the shower in this master bath was huge because there was no way to fit my big body into the shower in my old apartment with Penny in there with me.
With my bruised ribs screaming with every breath, I doubt I could have managed but right now, I didn’t give a good Goddamn about my fucking ribs.
Penny pressed against me to avoid the spray, her soft skin warm against mine, and nothing else mattered.
The bruises Andy’s men had left, the ache along my ribs where they’d landed their hardest blows, were worth every second of pain if it meant she was safe. And in this shower. Here. With me.
“You could never hurt me,” I murmured, letting my hands skim down her sides with all the delicacy I could muster. Touching her required such care. She was infinitely precious, breakable in a way that terrified me. “Not unless you leave me.”
My hands trembled slightly, partly from the pain that shot through me when I moved, partly from the overwhelming reality that she was letting me touch her like this. The bruises didn’t matter. The pain didn’t matter.
“You’re in pain,” she said.
Our eyes met. No point lying to her. She saw through me too easily. “Worth it.”
Two words. The truest thing I’d ever said. I’d taken that beating to protect her and her girls, and I’d do it again without hesitation. This pain was something I’d bear proudly because I’d protected my girls. My family.
“Let me,” she whispered, reaching for the soap. “Let me take care of you for once.”
My chest tightened as she began washing me, her hands careful around my worst bruises. Until she tackled my beard. Stunner had been right. It had taken all of three washings. I could probably have used a fourth, but I was eager for Penny to continue touching the rest of me.
“You’re always taking care of me,” I said, the words rumbling up from somewhere deep. “Every day since you walked into Haven.”
She smiled, pressing a kiss to my chest that made my heart stutter. “That goes both ways.”
Her hands moved lower, washing away glitter I’d probably never fully get rid of.
When her fingers wrapped around my cock again, I couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath, my head falling back against the wall.
Fifteen years I’d waited for this woman, and she still reduced me to trembling need with a single touch.
“Penny,” I groaned, my hands finding her hips. “Need to touch you.”
I could see the concern in her eyes, worry about my injuries, but I couldn’t not touch her. My fingers slid between her legs, finding her wet and ready.
I pushed two fingers inside her carefully, my thumb finding her clit with practiced ease. I’d learned from our nights together because I’d never leave Penny unsatisfied after sex. My free hand cupped her breast, thumb brushing her nipple in rhythm.
“God, look at you,” I murmured, unable to tear my gaze away. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She flushed under my attention, still not quite believing how I saw her. Andy had been a blind fool. Penny wasn’t something to possess, she was a precious, perfect woman and mother, someone to cherish, to worship, to protect with everything I had.
My breathing grew labored, the arousal mixing with pain as my ribs protested every movement. My hand trembled against her breast and I moved my arm around her back to pull her closer to me. When I leaned forward to kiss her neck, the movement pulled at my injuries hard enough to make me wince.
“Baby,” she whispered, catching my face between her palms. “We can wait until you’re feeling better.”
I felt my expression shift, half amused, half determined. She didn’t understand. “Not waiting another day, Penny. Two was enough.”
When she giggled, burying her face in my chest, I curled my finger inside her, finding that spot that made her knees buckle. She clutched at my shoulders, careful even now to avoid my bruises. I held her weight effortlessly despite the lingering pain.
“See?” I said, smiling as her body responded. “Some things are worth a little pain.”
Her laugh sent warmth through my chest. “Stubborn man.”
“Yours, though,” I answered. The truest words I’d ever spoken.
I reached behind her to shut off the shower without removing my hand from between her legs.
She shivered -- from the cold or from my touch, I couldn’t tell, didn’t care.
I pulled her against me, feeling her breasts press against my chest, her nipples hardening.
When I bent to kiss her, my ribs screamed in protest, muscles tensing involuntarily.
“Bed,” she said firmly. “Now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, grinning. I loved when she got bossy. “But only if you come with me.”
She toweled me dry with gentle strokes that felt more intimate than anything I’d experienced before. When we were both dry, I scooped her into my arms, ignoring her protests about my ribs. She weighed nothing and carrying her felt right. She protested, but I thought it was halfhearted at best.
I laid her on the bed with exquisite care, then stretched out beside her, propped on one elbow to look down at her body.
Raw hunger coursed through me. Fifteen years of wanting, of dreaming, and I’d finally found the woman meant to be mine.
“You’re incredible,” I whispered, my hand tracing the curve of her hip. My touch stayed light.
She reached up to stroke my beard, her smile making my chest tight. “You’re not so bad yourself. Even covered in glitter.”
I groaned, dropping my head to her shoulder. “Never gonna live that down, am I?”
“Not for at least a year. Tiny,” she said softly. “You don’t have to push through this. We have our whole life. You can take time to heal before we have sex again.”
“You giving me orders again?” I asked, loving the way she tried to take care of me.
“If that’s what it takes to make you take care of yourself.”
I smiled, tender but determined. I slid my hand over her stomach, my fingers dipping between her legs again. “What if this is exactly what I need?”
Her body arched into my touch, and satisfaction roared through me. “Then I guess I’d better let you have your way,” she breathed.
I leaned down to kiss her, and she opened to me completely. This woman, this incredible, strong, beautiful woman, trusted me with her body, her pleasure, her safety. With her heart. And she was worth every single fucking second. That, more than anything, was the true miracle of Christmas.
Her fingers stroked over my cheek as she petted my beard, and I could see the concern in her eyes.
Fuck, I hated that she could read me so easily.
My ribs were screaming at me, the position pulling at muscles that shouldn’t be moving like this, but I’d be damned if I’d let pain stop me from touching her.
“The hot water would help your muscles,” she said. “Why don’t we go back to the shower?”
I raised an eyebrow, letting a slow smile spread across my face despite the ache in my side. “You trying to get me clean or dirty?”
“Both,” she admitted with a little laugh, pressing a kiss to my jaw that sent heat straight to my cock. “Definitely both.”
I chuckled, feeling the rumble in my chest. With more grace than most people expected from a man my size, I rose from the bed and pulled her up with me. My gaze locked with hers as I led her back toward the bathroom, her small hand disappearing completely in mine.
The bathroom was still thick with steam when we entered, moisture clinging to every surface. I turned on the shower again, adjusting the temperature until it was hot enough to ease the knots in my muscles.
“Come here,” I said, my voice coming out low and rough.
She stepped into the shower, water immediately streaming down her perfect skin. Water cascaded over my back and shoulders, hot enough to sting the fading bruises. Droplets caught in my beard, but I barely noticed. I was too focused on her.