Chapter 40
Chee
Chee really thought that there couldn’t be any more tears to shed. And sure, this breakdown didn’t last as long as her first one, but she was amazed she had anything left in her to release.
Two breakdowns were, however, very draining. She started hanging off Trove and, before she could tell herself to stop, he was lifting her in his arms and taking her back to her bed. He brought them into it and she curled into him.
She took such comfort from his warmth. In his scent. She dozed into a sleep that was shallow but calm and peaceful. She was vaguely aware of time passing. Of his gentle touch on her head, stroking her hair, down her back.
As exhausting as the breakdowns had been, they felt necessary.
Just as laying here, letting Trove hold her, relaxing into him, felt necessary.
Life on Earth had been heavy. Not because her life was hard.
No. She had everything she needed. Her job as an event coordinator paid her well.
She had enough patience to deal with all the demanding clients, and it didn’t tax her emotionally.
She had a few friends from work to keep from being lonely, and she met up with her mom every Wednesday for lunch.
And every weekend, they went to the prison to visit her father.
They could only go once a week. They weren’t even allowed to go two days in a row.
Their meeting was timed. Their hugs were limited.
Their conversations were watched. And Chee had to voluntarily give up some of the meeting so her parents could have some alone time.
At least, as much as the prison could allow.
It was exhausting. Not because it was a lot of work. Not because it was a strain on her schedule. It was just a weight on her heart that carrying around hurt.
Living through the teen years was already hard enough. But she had to add the trauma of being molested by her uncle. Then the trauma of watching her father stab him to death. Which, while she did not feel any shame for, was still something she had to come to terms with.
Then, to top it off, she had to wrestle with all of the weight of her father’s trial. It had taken years to come to the end. So many interviews. So many questions. Sleepless nights. Tears. Screams of frustration.
And the worst, broken hopes.
The moment her father had been declared guilty lived in her head as one of the worst moments in her life. She had wanted to yell at the unfairness of it. She had to witness her mother collapse from the grief and the loss.
He was alive, but it sometimes felt like he wasn’t. But then Saturday would come, and she would get a peak at what it would be like to have him in her life.
Her father did okay in prison. He was a strong man, so he was able to hold his own behind bars, but he was a humble man as well, so he didn’t cause problems for himself.
He was on trial there, in a way, as well, but his truth of protecting his daughter by killing his brother was a mark of honor amongst the dishonorable.
But it was still prison. He hadn’t had a home cooked meal in decades. He hadn’t been able to sleep next to his wife. There were times they had to go weeks without seeing him because some drama behind the walls they weren’t privy to meant he was put in lockdown.
And those weekends were even worse. Waking up, thinking she’d get to see him, just to be faced with the dashed hope of the prison telling them that visits were cancelled for the day.
It hurt. It was heavy. And no one ever sympathized with her.
The prisoners behind the wall might respect her father for what he did, but those outside it still saw him as a murderer.
If she told people she was going to visit her father in prison, the reaction was always surprise, then weariness.
Because if she still visited him, then that means she was forgiving a murderer and a criminal.
Some people were willing to hear her out. Some people, when she told them the true story, exclaimed at the injustice of it.
But it was like they were watching a movie. There was no real emotion in it. ‘Dang, that sucks’, but nothing could be done to change it.
If they even believed her at all, because there were those that didn’t. Those who trusted the courts too much and insisted that if he was found guilty, then he must be a ruthless killer.
Years and years of that built up to a weight she had become strong enough to carry. One she was content to keep bearing. She wouldn’t say she was happy to do it, but in a crappy situation, it was the best she could hope for.
Then, one day, she got a phone call. Hyde, on the other end, had made her an incredible offer. One that would sacrifice the comfortable life she had built, leaving her job and her friends and her home and everything she knew.
But one that would give her a chance to get her father back.
It was worth it. She would have done anything he asked if he could make it happen. No matter how hard or dirty or dangerous, she would have taken it on with a smile.
However, he did nothing so onerous. Nothing so terrible.
Instead, he gave her a male that her heart hurt to look at.
One that made her smile. One that made her irrational.
One she wanted to introduce to her parents.
One she wanted to make part of her family.
He didn’t have one for himself, but she could show him a great one.
It only seemed fair since he was partially responsible for bringing it back together.
Being with Trove was no great sacrifice. She’d cut away a world that had betrayed her and her family and gained everything in return.
As far as she was concerned, this was the best outcome possible.
The breakdowns were just the rush of relief and success and the painful, horrible, terrible return of all that hope. And as much as it hurt to have it break, it was just as bad to have it resurrected.
But resting in Trove’s arms, his warmth, his touch, the strange triple beat of his heart that she had never noticed before, was a soothing balm to her soul.
The sunlight was gone by the time she opened her eyes, fully awake again. Once more, the room was dim, cast in shadows. The pale green lights from the garden barely illuminated the space, but Trove’s violet eyes, open and full, were shining at her in the darkness.
“Hey,” she greeted, her voice rough after her two crying sessions.
“Hello,” he said back, his voice soft and tender.
“I’m sorry for lying to you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t blame you. I understand why you did it. I just wish that Hyde had not used you like that.”
Chee chuckled. “He didn’t use me. And if he did, he can do it again anytime. Especially if I get so much out of it.”
She reached for him but then paused. “Can I touch you?”
“Always,” he assured her, taking her hand and pressing it against his cheek. “I never want you to let me go.”
Chee flushed with warmth as her heart kicked into high gear.
“Do you mean that?”
“I do.”
“Can I touch you… however I want?”
He wasn’t as quick to respond this time. He actually paused to think about it. And she waited, searching his darkened face for any sign of tension or hesitance. That was doubtless what he was looking for in himself as well.
But after a moment, he just nodded.
“Yes. Touch me, Chee. I want to feel your touch. Only yours.”
She couldn’t help but smile.
Though she knew you shouldn’t judge people on how many they had slept with, and in usual circumstances she wouldn’t, it would be a lie to say that she hadn’t been disappointed to know that her mate was so…
prolific. She didn’t expect her soul mate to be saving himself for her as she was for him, but knowing that he considered sex to be such an easily tradable commodity, and apparently one that wasn’t even worth that much, had stung.
But knowing what she did now, knowing who he was at his core, knowing that it wasn’t sex to him but instead was just that poor, tormented person inside of him still desperately searching for control, made it easier to swallow.
Especially when she realized that he didn’t even like them touching him at all.
He was working through his own trauma, healing in a way that maybe wouldn’t be considered fully healthy, but which had kept him alive and sane through the worst of times.
For that male, the one who couldn’t bear any touch to tell her that he craved hers, to hear him say that he wanted hers, was a prize he gave no one else.
In that way, in a way that really mattered, he was hers and only hers.
Chee was smiling when she sat up, throwing her leg over his.
His hands immediately went to her thighs, to the wide hips that he loved so much.
She had never liked how out of balance her hips made her look, but when he stared at her with so much adoration and appreciation, it was hard to think of a single thing that could be wrong with her body.
Watching him carefully, making sure she didn’t push any boundaries or continue if he was uncomfortable, Chee began by stroking her hands down his chest. Mimicking the very same motions he had performed when he had used her hands to touch him.
His face didn’t pinch in discomfort. He didn’t look uneasy. He let out a long, slow breath as his eyes half closed. Just enjoying.
“Thank you,” Chee said, pushing her hands under the hem of his shirt. “Thank you for letting me touch you.”
He grinned, sassy and happy, as he lifted his arms and torso, allowing her to pull his shirt up and over his head.
She tossed it away, and this time got to indulge in the touch of his bare skin.
Warm and rough, his skin was more like leather than flesh.
It wasn’t stiff under her fingers, just thick and durable.
Hard enough to weather even the worst the world could throw at him.
And just as she didn’t think he realized how truly unfair and cruel that world had been to him, she also didn’t think he appreciated how strong he must be in order to overcome it. He was incredible, and he had no idea.
Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. The one that she was so grateful continued to beat.
She continued from there. Kissing to one side before flicking his nipple with her tongue. It was tougher than her own and made him start in surprise. When she raised her eyes to meet his however, he didn’t look displeased, just curious.
So, she continued. She kissed the pointed flesh, then upward along the long plane of his pectoral, to the hard line of his clavicle, then in towards his neck.
She adored him. Loved him. Appreciated him.
As she kissed and licked along his skin, she couldn’t miss the way his fingers were playing with the hem of her clothes. The baggy ones she had picked out because she wanted to hide from the lies she had told – even if only by omission.
“Destroy them,” she whispered against his neck.
He needed no further permission. Though he had no claws, he still had brute strength, and the old, worn pants were no match for him.
The loose fabric ripped apart, shredded almost too easily from her body.
She wasn’t sad to see it go. Like she was shedding the old part of herself that always subconsciously longed to hide herself.
Because if he was strong enough to survive this and come out better on the other side, then damn it so was she.
Now nude atop him, Chee sat tall. She planted her hands on his abdomen, getting a good angle so she could grind herself down on the hard bulge in his pants. Still watching him, even as the tingles from her pussy began to build.
For all that they had done together, they hadn’t actually connected in that way. Before this moment, it hadn’t even been possible.
But as she ground herself over him, selfishly taking her pleasure through him, he wasn’t turned off. He wasn’t driven away. He growled in approval, fingers digging into her hips, holding onto her. Giving her more stability to rub herself over him.
Grinding. Thrusting. She gasped, shaking as her thighs clenched and tensed, trying to pull herself deeper. Trying to get more of that sensation. Soaking the front of his pants.
He groaned, hips pulsing upward. Mimicking the motions of fucking. They weren’t having sex, but they were just one layer of fabric away. Rutting at each other. There was nothing dry about the humping they were doing.
Chee moaned his name, head falling back. But she quickly forced it down again. Not wanting to look away from his face. From the tense lines of pleasure there.
And he looked right back at her. Jaw tight. Growling and grunting. His hands on her hips now forcing her down. Seeking his pleasure as well as hers.