LUST: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch Book 2) (14 page)

Ash gaped at me. “You’re… you’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” I confirmed bitterly. “But yeah. Unless you’re not sorry, or you do something
really
heinous… murder, maybe… that’s it. You’re forgiven. The other options are being shunned, or being banished. I’ve seen people shunned before, mostly women for daring to assert themselves in any way. But banished?” I shook my head. “Never even heard of it happening. As far as I know, at least in our community, it’s unprecedented.”

“You really had no one to turn to. No one who could help you.”

The resignation in his tone was palpable. It echoed my own despair when I’d come to that realization. “Nope.”

We were both quiet for a long time. Longer than I was comfortable with, really. Part of me wanted Ash to say something, anything, even if it was something stupid—like, “It’s gonna be okay” or “We’ll figure this out.” Neither of those things were true. I was never going to be okay. I was never going to forgive those bastards for what they did. I was only ever going to be less fucked up about it, as the years passed by—that’s the best I could hope for.

Another part of me was afraid to hear whatever was running through his mind. Ash was a decent guy. I had no doubt he wished to do my father, and perhaps the community, some serious violence. There was nothing he’d said that made me think he didn’t believe me. Nothing that made me feel like he blamed me for what they’d done. But I still felt like I’d crossed a line, letting him in on all this. A line he’d pushed me over, sure, but a simple fact remained.

We couldn’t go back from this. Not ever. Ash could not forget, and neither could I. We’d reached a turning point, and there would be consequences. I just wasn’t sure what they might be.

“Sorry,” I said, and he looked at me, his eyebrows raised. “For dumping all this on you. I know you asked, but… I’m sure you didn’t know what you were getting into. And I’m sure you’d rather not be involved.”

Slowly, Ash took my hand. He threaded his fingers through my own, and I could see from the size of his hand that he could easily crush me, easily break every bone. But he didn’t. I could see also that the thought never even occurred to him.

He said, “I promised to protect you, Hannah. You and the girls. Without knowing from what, or from who. Knowing my enemy doesn’t nullify that promise. It just gives me a clearer picture of what I have to fight.” He lifted our hands and kissed the back of mine. “I know why they can’t go back now. And I get that you’re worried that your father might send someone after them—he sees them as his property. Isn’t that right?” I nodded weakly and he sighed against my skin. “Thank you. For telling me. For trusting me with this.”

“Things would be easier if I hadn’t,” I whispered. “We could be in… in a much simpler place.”

Ash held my gaze. “In all the world,” he said, “there’s no place I’d rather be.”

My tears flowed anew as I realized he meant it.

F
ear seized
me as Hannah began to cry again.
Goddamn,
I thought.
What did I do wrong?

I wasn’t annoyed by it. Not at her, anyway. I was pissed at myself for whatever it was, for however I’d managed to screw up this time. I’d been so indelicate with her before, so impatient for answers that I’d made what was surely one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do even harder. Now all I wanted to do was comfort her, make up for what an insistent ass I’d been. Even though maybe I never could.

But as I moved to wipe her tears with my thumb, she looked up at me again and kissed me. Hard. Passionately. On the mouth.

I closed my eyes and surrendered. There was little romance in this kiss—it was more hot desperation, urgent need. She wanted to feel something other than pain. She wanted to be touched in ways that didn’t leave scars.

She really did want to forget.

I kissed her back, opening my mouth to receive her, to flutter my tongue against hers in light, teasing strokes. Hannah moaned, her fingers in my hair, nails on my scalp as she pulled me closer to her, trying to negate the distance between our bodies—inches that felt like entire worlds.

I knew this hunger. I understood it well. It was the same gnawing ache that drove me to drink after Dad got locked up. The same shrieking void that sometimes felt like it could never be filled. And maybe for me, there was no salvation. But for Hannah? I would make damn sure there was.

“C’mere,” I said softly, scooping her into my arms. She didn’t seem like the kind of girl who particularly liked to be carried, but when I stood, she made no fuss. “I’ll make you forget now.”

“Thank you,” she sighed. It broke my heart in two.

I kissed her all the way to her bedroom, already knowing the way, not even having to look. I laid her down on top of the duvet, holding my body over hers, but this time leaving her hands free to roam as they pleased. Most other times I’d bound her in some way, forcing her hands over her head or otherwise limiting her mobility because she seemed to like it rough. But now that I knew why, that it’s all she’s ever known, I also knew that wasn’t what she needed right now.

“If you want me to stop,” I whispered, slowly undoing the zipper at the back of her dress, “you just tell me. Okay?” I brought my free hand up to caress her face. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

She looked at me, her head cocked. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

“Because I need to,” I answered, steadily peeling the luxe, textured fabric off her. It felt even better than I’d imagined it would, but Hannah’s soft, naked skin felt better. “I need you to know you’re safe with me, love, and not just because I can knock a man’s teeth down his throat if I have to. I need you to know I would never hurt you. Not… not like they did.”

Guilt welled up inside me as I recalled our first time in that bathroom at Trick Shots. When I’d slipped her panties into her mouth. There was no way I could have known what that might dredge up for her, but the fact that I’d done it… and she hadn’t said anything…

“It’s okay,” she told me with a little shake of her head. “You can have me exactly how you want me. That’s… that’s how this works.”

I frowned. “No. It’s not.” Carefully, and with both hands, I worked my fingers into the band of her panties and slid them off her. “It’s not about how you think I want it. It’s about making love to you the way you deserve…”

Hannah sucked her lip into her mouth, and I immediately knew what was coming. I was already drawing her into my arms, pulling her against me as she started to cry, burying my face in the silky waves of her hair and rocking her while she sobbed.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” she hiccupped, and I squeezed her tighter.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I assured. “We can stop. It’s all right. I just… I just want to make you happy.”

And I did. More than anything in the whole world, I wanted Hannah to be
happy.
Just that. For all eternity. That would be a good start to making up for all the shit she’d been through.

Hannah buried her face in the curve of my neck. Her voice was a soft, lamenting sigh. “That’s just it, Ash… I do want to. I want to be with you so bad it hurts. I’m just… I’m not used to it being like this.”

I looked down at her, tucking a few strands of wayward hair behind her ears. “Like what?”

Her eyes glistened, even in the darkness. “Gentle.”

I touched my lips to hers. “That gets fixed right now.”

I helped Hannah undress me, watched as her shaky fingers worked at the buttons of my shirt before I shrugged it off so she could get to my pants. I’d dressed up for her a little too, tonight. I didn’t look anywhere as nice as she did, but I’d made an effort—one that told the story of just how bad I wanted her, when my erection filled out inside my slacks. Her hand was on it immediately, coaxing, rubbing, exploring the length with a slow and tender touch. I could tell she was holding back, forcing herself to take things at a less frantic pace, and it killed me to know that she’d never been cared for like this before.

I wanted to taste her. I wanted to spend hours between her thighs, spelling out all the things I felt for her with my tongue. But when I went to lay her on her back again, Hannah shook her head at me and squeezed my cock.

“I want this,” she said. And there was no way I was going to argue.

I took my pants off, along with my boxers, and helped Hannah maneuver into my lap. She was feather-light, doing her best to keep her weight off me, even though I could curl the same amount of weight she had in her entire body. I cooed to her that it was all right, that I wanted to feel her, that she didn’t have to be a ghost with me. And I kissed her neck, savoring each inch of her warm skin, the sensation of her pulse in her jugular, so close to my mouth, as she eased down onto my cock with a contented sigh.

I rose up to meet her at the same moment, ensuring that our hips kissed. She threw her head back and moaned and I ran my palm down the midline of her body, between her breasts, and to her navel, taking in the sight of her slowly, steadily riding me.

I matched her motions. I wasn’t going to let her do all the work. This was something we were both invested in. Something that we’d do together.

Being inside Hannah without a condom on was sheer bliss. I’d never been without one before—I’d never had reason to—but in the heat of the moment with her, I’d never considered it. We were skin-to-skin, heart-to-heart, and how natural it felt was too good to resist. She said nothing of it, only touched my face as she moved on top of me, engulfing me in a heat that scorched me as much as it warmed my bones.

As new as this was to her, it was new to me too. I’d never had sex with such conviction before. I’d never felt such a connection with anyone else. Every time our lips came together, I pressed in hard, ensuring there was no part of her that didn’t feel the depth of how much I cared about her. She squeezed me, tugging me in, showing me that, at the very least, I was all she wanted in this moment.

It seemed like more than that, though. When I looked into her eyes… it just seemed like so much more.

We couldn’t keep it slow forever., but when we increased our pace, it was a mutual agreement. I slipped a hand between us to stroke her clit, taking one of her nipples into my mouth and biting, turning my tongue along the peaked bud with a low, vibrating groan. I knew exactly how to get her off by now—what pressure she needed, what frequency, what speed—and I had no intention of stopping until I achieved my goal. Maybe not even then, either.

Hannah grasped my shoulders tightly. Then one hand swept up to the back of my neck. She pressed our foreheads together, eyes shut, lip in her mouth. “I’m going to come,” she said.

“Please,” I whispered raggedly in return. “Please…”

With a cry, she indulged me, bearing down hard on my cock before slamming her open hand into my back. She hissed, squirming in the throes of an orgasm so intense it broke her rhythm, reducing her to a quivering, whimpering mess in my lap. The sight was just too overwhelming to bear, and though I’d intended to fuck her silly—to give her as many orgasms as it took to completely wipe her mind of every injustice she’d ever suffered—I gave way under the pressure and the joy written on her face. Holding Hannah tightly, I made a few last, short strokes into her before I uttered my own sound of ecstasy, filling her with the delicious ache she’d been building in my balls.

I hadn’t thought to pull out. Like the condom, it simply didn’t occur to me. I wanted so very badly to be close to her, and in this way, we were the closest two people could possibly be. It was everything I never knew I wanted.

My mouth sought, and found, hers. She moaned when she kissed me, still moving a little, writhing enough to milk me for all I was worth. Her fingers made light trails down my back and I entangled mine in her hair, pushing her onto her back with her legs still around me, leaving her mouth only to forge my own path of kisses down her neck, her chest, her stomach, and her perfect hips.

I felt her stomach quake a little, and when I looked up, she was crying again. I frowned. “Hannah…”

But she shook her head at me, moving her hands so I could see the expression on her face. There was a smile—just a hint of one, but a smile nonetheless. “It’s not bad,” she whispered. “I’ve just… I’ve just never felt this way before. I feel…” Her eyes rolled back a little as she thought. “I don’t know. Just… vulnerable.”

I climbed up her body to lie beside her, pulling her back against my chest. “You’ll always be safe with me,” I told her. “Whenever you need to let your guard down… I’m here.”

“Always?” she asked me, very, very softly, as if she were almost afraid I would hear it.

Settling down behind her, stroking her hair, I did not even hesitate to answer, “Always.”

And I knew then—knew without even the slightest doubt—that it was a promise I would go to great lengths to keep.

It was a promise I would kill for.

I
woke
up to the unexpected smell of coffee, eggs, bacon, and…

…burned toast?

I cracked my eyes open, just a little. Sunlight drifted in through the blinds—judging by its intensity, it was mid-morning. A respectable hour, but still a little early for someone who regularly worked the night shift.

With a little groan, I rolled over onto my back. For a moment, I didn’t completely remember what had happened the previous night—my confession to Ash, or even what we’d done after. But as my senses returned to me, so did my memories, and I felt a stab of concern flash through me.

Did he call his brothers? Did they bring back the girls because they think I need my sisters?

It made a dreadful kind of sense. Ash would worry that my emotional state required more care than he could provide, and he’d call Wyatt and Reid to return Sarah and Beth so I could take comfort in them—maybe even explain the circumstances of why I’d left. That was the very last thing I wanted to do, on both counts. First and foremost, I didn’t want to tell either of them—ever—about why I’d left home. Let them hate me for it, if they wanted to, but I was entitled to this private pain. Sometimes, it was all I had to hold on to.

Secondly, there was every chance their getaways were going well, and that was paramount to their continued protection. Away from me, in locations I couldn’t even accurately direct anyone to, Beth and Sarah may as well have been in federal safe houses. Bringing them back here could be bad for their health.

And yet, some selfish part of me really did want to see them today. Now. And if they were here, that certainly explained the cooking. I sat up, finger-combing my hair as I swung my legs over the side of the bed to find a shirt.

The door opened and I jumped back, clutching the sheets to my chest. “Whoa, wait a minute! I’m not dressed…”

But it wasn’t Sarah or Beth standing there, holding a tray overflowing with breakfast foods. It was Ash.

“What…” I stared at him, truly at a loss for coherent words. “What’s this…?”

“Breakfast in bed,” he explained, eyeing me as I stood there, half-wrapped in my bedding. “But you’re not in bed, which is a problem. Get back in there.”

I sat down, watching him as he set the tray down next to me in the bed and came around the other side to sit with me. He was wearing his clothes from last night, only he hadn’t bothered buttoning the first few button on his shirt, nor his cuffs. It was messy, but a good look for him. I leaned back against the pillows and smiled.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I said.

Ash smirked at me. “Don’t I know it.” Then he kissed me, completely ignoring the fact I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet. “Anyway, don’t get too excited. I apparently don’t know how to work a toaster. You’ll notice only a couple slices made it.”

“Mm,” I said, grinning as I poked at the charred remains of what were once slices of bread. “Actually, that’s my fault. Beth had an incident with it the other day, and I forgot to turn the settings back down. Sorry about that.”

Ash shrugged. “Hey, don’t apologize to me. It’s your breakfast.”

I took his hand. “And thank you for it. Seriously. It looks like you went through a lot of trouble.”

He arched a brow. “Is that your way of asking me if I made a mess of your kitchen?”

I shrugged and popped a piece of bacon into my mouth. “Could be, Brody. Could be.”

His chuckle was low and raspy. I liked the sound of it. I leaned on his shoulder as I ate, enjoying the morning quiet, the lack of words or expectations in the air. Last night—both in the context of what we’d done out of bed, as well as in it—had been so cathartic. I knew I wasn’t “healed” yet, and I still suspected I never fully would be, but telling someone and having them believe me had gone a long way to reducing the tension that had haunted my muscles. I’d never realized how the stress of holding it all in had affected my body until now, when I woke up for the first time in a long time without a persistent, jabbing pain in my shoulders and neck. I’d been carrying my burden for a long time, and it had done a number on me. It had just become so normalized I hadn’t been able to see it until Ash took my hand and showed me.

I glanced up at him through a wild shock of hair. Never in a million years had I imagined we’d have the kind of conversation we did last night. I’d never believed I could tell anybody my secret, but Ash Brody? That was even more unbelievable. And yet it had been exactly what I’d needed.
He
had been exactly what I needed. And I was beginning to think maybe I really had gotten this all wrong.

Because not only had he talked me off a ledge—not only had he made love to me in an exceedingly tender and adoring way—but he’d
stayed.
He was still here in the morning, bringing me breakfast in bed and leaning his cheek against my head while I ate it. It was like…

It was like we were a couple, or something.

“Thank you,” I said, though the words didn’t seem like enough. “For everything.”

Ash tipped his chin down and kissed my temple. “You’re welcome. But…”

Dread knotted in my stomach. Oh, God. Now what?

“…we need to talk.”

I set down my fork and swallowed whole the mouthful of fried egg I’d just been about to chew. “About what?”

I was sure I was going to get some kind of speech about boundaries. Ash would tell me that yes, he cared about me, and yes, he’d keep his word—but that the closeness we’d been courting the past few days was coming to an end. This wasn’t his way. And frankly, it wasn’t mine either. I’d been willing to give it a shot, though. It just… felt too right not to.

But Ash? I guessed he was missing his previous role as the community bicycle. Everyone got a ride…

No. No, that wasn’t fair. But it wasn’t exactly untrue, either. Ash had always made it very clear—to everyone—that he wasn’t the kind of guy who got attached. With me, he’d had little choice—he had a job to do. But he was probably itching for someone new. He probably wanted to fly, and was starting to see me and this apartment as his cage.

What he actually said, though, was way worse.

“Hannah… you have to go to the police.”

“No.” The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it, a single syllable that was almost lost with how quickly I spat it. Just to clarify my position, I added, “Absolutely not.”

“You have to,” Ash repeated. “Shit, Hannah, trust me when I say that under different circumstances, I’d be the last one to tell you to go to the cops. And… and I know the statistics on this kind of thing aren’t good.” I snorted. I was willing to bet he looked that up on his phone. “But it’s the best tool you have at your disposal to protect your sisters—not to mention the other girls in the village that might be preyed upon next.”

“I told you,” I said coolly, “they don’t risk that kind of thing anymore.”

“Do you know that?” he asked, his tone just as even as mine was. “Or do you just think it? Look at what happened with my apartment, Hannah. That was a pretty big risk for your father to take.”

“If it even was him,” I muttered, even though my gut told me Ash was right. “Could be you pissed off someone else. You’re pretty good at that, you know?”

“I know.” Ash let the words hang for a moment before he continued. “But this isn’t the first time your father has sent someone to bring what he perceives as ‘his’ back to him. You know that better than anyone. That’s why you asked me and my brothers to help protect you. Protect your sisters. You’ve got one hell of a gut instinct, Miller. Don’t sell yourself short on it now.”

I sighed. “This is all speculation, Ash. There’s nothing to prove it was him or one of his lackeys.” I was doing exactly what he’d told me not to do; engaging in a struggle I seemed to constantly entertain. On one hand, I’d learned to trust my instincts over the years. On the other, the damage of being called crazy, of being made out to be a liar, of not being believed… it had done a number on me. I felt like I was right and wrong, simultaneously. I felt like I knew everything and nothing at all.

Ash studied my face for a moment. Then he wet his lips and softly asked me, “What if you’re wrong?”

I didn’t answer him. Turns out, that was all the answer he needed. He asked, “Even if you’re right… do you really think they’ve stopped forever?”

I closed my eyes.
Fuck.

I knew the answer to that question. Knew it, even though I didn’t want to. No, of course they hadn’t stopped for good. They’d stopped only because they were worried I might come after them. Or hell, maybe Mom had been a little more suspicious than I’d given her credit for. Maybe she was keeping a closer eye on him, on the elders in general. Even though there was nothing she could actually do about it, even if she caught them red-handed, perhaps it made them nervous. Gave them performance anxiety.

I sure as hell hoped so.

“Hannah?” he asked me, and I looked up at him. “Do you really think—”

“No,” I said before he could ask again. “No. One day, they’ll start up again. But you don’t understand. Filing a report won’t stop them.”

“How do you know?”

“Because what are the cops gonna do?” I asked him, throwing my hands up in frustration. “It was over two years ago, Ash! There’s no rape kit. No evidence of any kind. There’s just my word against that of an upstanding Amish gentleman, who will tell the police the same story he told my mother. And they’ll believe him because I’m a promiscuous bartender who drinks to forget and owns too many band t-shirts.” I sighed, looking away. “There’s no point. I told you, even if the townspeople found out, they wouldn’t care. At absolute worst, they’d banish him, but knowing my father, he’d just find some new community to fuck up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ash said, sitting up and turning to face me, “maybe they won’t be able to arrest him. And maybe the town won’t do a damn thing to him. But your report… it could set a precedent, Hannah.” He paused and looked away, almost like he was embarrassed. “I’ve done a little reading. I dunno, I woke up early and… and I started to Google. And filing an official report, providing the police with all the information you can about what happened to you, it could help some other girl down the line. Some girl who runs away, just like you did, only she tells the police what happened to her. On her own, it’s her word against his, but with your report on file? With details that seem to match up? That’s a huge red flag, love. They’d have to do something about it then.” He moved to take my hand. “And that’s… that’s something, Hannah.”

He wasn’t wrong. The logic was sound. But there was another aspect to this whole thing he wasn’t thinking about, and really, I couldn’t blame him. You just can’t understand what it’s like until it happens to you.

“So you want me to retell the story of the worst years of my life to complete strangers—to open up that wound again and let them go poking around in it, probably while they sit there and tell me they don’t believe me?” I shook my head. “Gee, can’t think of a better way to spend my day. You were a fluke, Ash. The only person who ever accepted the truth about my father. These cops? They’re going to see a case they can’t close, and they’re going to beg me not to file a report so they don’t have to lay claim to something they can’t fix. Looks bad for their numbers.”

“I don’t think you’re considering all the possibilities,” Ash began. “What if the next girl who wants to file a report is—”

Something about his tone told me what he was going to say well before he said it.

“Don’t, Ash,” I warned. “Don’t go there.” But he steamed right ahead. Full speed.

“—one of your sisters?”

I clenched my jaw and turned away from him again, taking a moment to just breathe. Deeply. My brain kept trying to put an image to that, and by God, I was not going to let it. I’d had nightmares about this very thing, terrors from which I woke up screaming, covered in sweat, and ready to vomit into the nearest toilet or bucket-like receptacle. It was a special torment I’d fought to subdue, and over the past three months, I’d managed to avoid a relapse.

But now Ash was saying it out loud, making those horrible visions dance in front of my waking eyes. I wanted to beat him until candy came out.

“They’re not going back,” I said slowly, making sure to measure my words so I didn’t bite his head off the way I wanted to. “They’re staying here. With me. The only reason he didn’t want them to even leave is because he sees them as property. They’re not even as valuable to him as the horses are.”

“But what if they do?” Ash asked. His tone was much gentler now, but the subject was no less irritating. “Could you live with that, Hannah? Could you really say you did everything to protect your sisters if you don’t do this?”

“This is what I tapped you for.” I looked over at him. “Remember?”

“I know,” Ash said, almost apologetically. “But there really is only so much me and my brothers can do. If Sarah and Beth choose to leave… it’s not like we can force them to stay.”

I sighed and lowered my face into my hands. “I know,” I muttered darkly.

And he was right—obviously. Infuriatingly. I hated him for it in that moment. Hated him almost as much as I loved him for giving a shit about me and my sisters. For thinking of them and their safety above all things. He almost cared as much as I did, was willing to make things uncomfortable for the sake of their well-being. I had to admire that. I’d do the same thing.

But it still hurt to even consider it. That process would be humiliating—I’d spoken to enough women to be sure of that fact. There would be all kinds of questions. Why didn’t I come forward sooner? Why did I wait over two years to file the report? How many sexual partners had I been with? Had I been drinking? Was there anyone who could corroborate my story?

Yeah, assholes. My rapists. But you won’t bother asking any of them these questions. Will you?

For Sarah’s and Beth’s sakes, though… I had to do it. Even if I never saw justice myself, I had to make sure if anything ever happened to either of them, they had a tool at their disposal I did not. And in the bigger picture, if any other girl from the community found herself in the awful position of having to file a report, my experience could help her too. If it was part of an official record, it would be harder to ignore. I wasn’t sure that, emotionally, I was ready for it. But truthfully, I never would be.