Salvaged Read online

  I told myself not to breathe, not to move a single muscle, as her hands slowly lifted and gently touched my sides above the tops of my jeans. It felt like her palms were burning their imprint into my skin as they slowly, achingly started to inch their way around my back so that she was lightly holding me in return. I heard her make a sound that may have been one of pleasure, but just in case it was one of fear, I leaned away from her so I could see her face.

  Her gaze was centered on the tattooed candle that was burning bright and surrounded by light and smoke right on the center of my throat. She watched the movement as I swallowed hard and her gaze drifted up to mine.

  “No one has ever asked me for permission for anything before. No one has ever cared what I wanted before.” The murmur of her words brushed across the base of my throat and my cock went instantly hard. I knew she felt it because her eyes popped wide and her breath hitched as she looked up at me and ordered quietly, “Ask me what I want right now, Wheeler.”

  I was equal parts terrified and intrigued by what her answer was going to be, so I tightened my hold on her and lowered my head so that my lips were hovering right by the tantalizing curve of her ear. “What do you want right now, Poppy?” I would give it to her no matter what it might cost me. I’d never had much but it seemed like everything compared to what she had. I wanted to take the entire world and wrap a giant bow around it and hand it to her. I’d tried to do that for Kallie, but she’d never appreciated it. Something told me Poppy would never dismiss anything that she was given because the only thing she was used to taking from people was their bullshit and abuse. Anything gifted from the heart and with kindness would be cherished and treasured.

  I could see some kind of internal battle waging behind the glow in her fantastic eyes. She was balanced on the precipice of something, trying to decide which way she wanted to fall; lucky me she picked the option that landed her in my arms.

  “I want you to kiss me.”

  Like I said, I couldn’t look away, not for a minute, because the girl was full of surprises. It was my turn to chuckle lightly. “Well, because you asked so nicely.” I tossed her words back at her right before I bent and touched my lips to hers.

  Poppy

  I t was too soon … probably for me and most definitely for him, considering he was all set to marry someone else up until very recently, but that didn’t stop me from blurting out what I really wanted from him.

  I didn’t know what it was about this guy that made me do things that were totally outside of my comfort zone. I’d never made the first move in my life. I’d never had to because the few men that had been in and out of my life had targeted me and hunted me like I was easy prey … I was. Too young and naive, too broken and scared, both physically and emotionally. Like the predators they were, they could see my weakness from miles away, so they came to me. They never gave me a chance to decide if they were what I really wanted or not because they moved in for the kill so fast that I was consumed by them. They took me down and left me bleeding before I understood what was happening. There was no time to decide if I wanted those angry kisses and those hard hands on me. There was no room to move if I felt threatened or afraid.

  Wheeler was different.

  There was no question that I wanted to know what his lips felt like when they landed on mine. I’d never been touched by tattooed, work-roughened hands, and more and more I found myself drifting off wondering what that would feel like. He tore apart things that were battered and beaten down and put them back together so that they were shiny and new. He took something that was worthless and made it priceless. I couldn’t deny that there was a part of me that wanted to know if he could do the same thing with me.

  Plus, I wanted a kiss … just one. A single kiss that I wouldn’t regret later on down the road. One I’d asked for. One that was mine. One that wouldn’t make me kick myself and say “I should have known better” because I did know better but I was asking him to kiss me anyways. I wanted a kiss that was given, not taken.

  He didn’t touch me even though I’d given him permission to do so.

  He let his hands fall from my back, where they had been resting when he hugged me. I got the sense that he didn’t want me to feel trapped, that he wanted me to be able to pull away at any moment if I changed my mind. His silent consideration and unwavering thoughtfulness made me even more certain that I wanted him to close the few inches that separated us. I wouldn’t have asked him to let me go but I realized as he leaned down from his far superior height that I was glad he did. I was the one moving closer. It wasn’t him pulling me. I couldn’t see anything beyond the burning blue of his eyes.

  When his lips touched mine I stopped breathing. I barely felt them but I felt the heat they generated all throughout my body. It was a featherlight hint of pressure but the impact almost took me to the ground as my knees started to quiver and shake. I had to put one hand on the center of his chest and the other on the countertop to keep myself from folding and falling to the ground.

  He tasted like beer and something else that was infinitely male. He tasted like excitement and fantasy. He tasted forbidden and destined all in the same sweep of my tongue across the barely opened part in his lips. If this was kissing, then I’d been doing it wrong since day one. This felt like being kissed by someone that knew how important it was for a girl to get kissed right. He erased the greedy and selfish lips of the college train wreck and he obliterated the painful, punishing lips of the man that had married me and then done his best to end me.

  Wheeler took a step closer, our chests pressed against one another, and instead of feeling crowded or controlled, I wanted to press myself more fully into him. It was the freedom he gave me to get away that kept me moving closer in. I moved the hand that was capturing each beat of his heart up the solid wall of his chest and curled it around the side of his neck. He had a bluebird tattooed there, and with each pulse of his heart it felt like the wings were fluttering delicately under the tips of my fingers as I traced the vein that ran under the inked skin. This was by far the closest I’d willingly been to a man in ages and I didn’t stop to process the fact that I wanted to get even closer.

  I leaned all the way into him, forcing him to catch himself on the counter, because even with my mouth hungrily licking and nipping at him, and even with my breasts flattened against the clearly defined muscles of his chest, he didn’t lay a hand on me. He wouldn’t, when I opened my mouth to give his gently seeking tongue access or when I lifted up on my tippy toes so that I could have a better angle to get my hand around the back of his neck so that I could pull him down more fully into the kiss. I wanted to make this moment last forever.

  It was sweet. It was hot. It made me forget, for just a second, that I was afraid.

  His teeth grazed my bottom lip and I shivered but not because I was scared that he was going to bite. I shivered because that little nip made my heart race and had all the parts of my body that had sworn off men reconsider their vow. My nipples pulled tight and rubbed against the lace of my bra. That spot between my legs that I told myself I was going to pretend didn’t exist after Oliver, reminded me that it was still there and in perfect working order by pulsing quick and hard. The quiet ache made me shift uncomfortably and there was no refuting the fact that being this close to him, having his tongue dance across mine, was making me wet with want.

  It was such a foreign feeling. So much stronger and bigger than the innocent desire fostered from believing empty promises and perfect lies that fell out of a pretty and practiced mouth. This was the kind of yearning that had teeth. The kind that sank into your bones and worked its way deep under your skin. This was the kind of longing that could and would push out everything else until it was the only thing left. There was no room for fear or regret because craving and hunger took up all the available space. Instead of being empty, I was full of all the amazing things this man made me feel. My starving soul and hungry heart wanted to be greedy and gluttonous. They wanted to eat him up
and go back for more.

  He turned his head, slanted his mouth a little, and then moved in deeper and with more determination. His hands stayed firmly at his sides but I still felt like he was touching all over. His breath whispered across my lips, the very tip of his tongue slicked across the seam, and I opened without a second thought.

  He didn’t touch me with his hands but his tongue left no damp, slick surface unexplored. He tasted. He teased. He taunted when I asked for more without words. He was gentle but there was no mistaking the fact that he was kissing me in a way that would be remembered. The imprint of his lips on mine, the flavor that was all Wheeler, was going to linger forever on the tip of my tongue. He was everywhere and yet the only places where we were touching were the places where I was clinging to him.

  Tongues twisted, teeth clashed, breath mingled, and I was pretty sure his name escaped on a whisper but I was so busy trying to inhale every single second of this moment that I swallowed it and kissed him back like I was ravenous … because I was. This kiss fed something deep inside of me that had never been fed. I didn’t know what it was like to get what I wanted. I didn’t know what it was like to be treated like … to be kissed like … I was something precious and prized. It was all enough to go to my head and make any common sense I had fizzle and wave. It might be too soon but this kiss had me ready to remember what it was like to dream and hope for something and someone special.

  I let go of the counter and was lifting up my other hand to touch the side of his face when a loud crash had us both breaking apart. I gasped, he swore, and we both blinked at each other like someone had suddenly turned on the lights in a very dark room. He took a step back as I steadied myself and we both jumped as another crash sounded from the living room. His dark eyebrows shot up as I suddenly bolted into action, barking out, “The dog!” as I ran toward the other room. I heard his heavy footsteps behind me as we raced to see what kind of destruction our lack of attention had caused.

  Happy had the entire coffee table knocked over on its side and was eagerly licking up the spilled contents of Wheeler’s abandoned beer. The puppy’s little tail was wagging furiously as he stopped lapping up the mess to look at us, so proud of himself and looking for accolades.

  Wheeler groaned and stepped around me to pick up the sturdy little dog. He held the wiggling animal up in front of his face, much like he did the day I first brought him to the garage. “Not cool.” The puppy yipped excitedly and fought to lick Wheeler’s face. “Is the beer bad for him? Do we need to worry about him getting sick or anything?” He bit the words out and his face shifted from post-kiss bliss to something much harder and angrier. His adorable dimples were long gone and that scowl that seemed to have staked claim between his brows was back.

  I bent to straighten the coffee table. “How much was left in the bottle?”

  Wheeler looked at the now empty bottle on the floor and shifted his gaze back to mine. “Less than half.” He seemed far more upset than a little spilled beer called for as he shifted the puppy in his arms and started to pace back and forth in front of me as he waited for me to answer.

  “It should be fine. A little bit of beer isn’t bad for dogs. Just keep an eye on him throughout the night and see if he gets sick or seems to act funny. If he does, text me and I’ll come back over and look at him.”

  Wheeler rounded on me, eyes wide and a heated flush working its way up underneath the ink that covered his throat. His sharp cheekbones turned a furious shade of pink as he ground out between gritted teeth, “You can’t leave him here with me. You have to take him.”

  The puppy looked up at the man holding on to him like he could sense his mood and the happy, tongue lolling stopped, replaced with a whimper and a full-body shake. I had a similar reaction. I crossed my arms over my chest and told myself not to freak out as the butterflies he woke up in my stomach turned into stone. I’d had my share of men that seemed good only to end up as something beyond bad in my life. I watched them change right before my eyes. I hated to think that Wheeler could be one of them, that I had been so wrong again, but the chill coming from those arctic eyes of his and the way he was looking at me like all he wanted was for me to take the puppy and go had me seriously second-guessing everything I thought I knew about this man.

  “No, not tonight. Tonight he’s supposed to stay with you. That’s why I brought him over.” I wasn’t used to saying no, so the words came out far weaker than I intended them to. I knew how important it was to stand my ground now, to make my boundaries clear. So, even though it was hard, I didn’t back down even when he growled at me in frustration.

  Wheeler gave his dark head a shake and continued pacing back and forth in front of me. “You can’t leave me alone with this puppy, Poppy.” He stopped in front of me and I realized that the frost coming from his big body wasn’t anger at the mess or the dog but fear. Anger, I had no space for, no tolerance or time for, but fear … that was an old friend and I understood how powerful and consuming it could be. Fear could exclude all else if you let it and I didn’t want that for him. He was wild-eyed and barely containing his panic as his voice shook. “I obviously have no clue what I’m doing. The dog isn’t even here for a few hours and I’m already dropping the ball. What if I get so distracted by my dick that I forget that I’m supposed to be taking care of a baby? Jesus.” He shoved his free hand through his hair. “I’m not ready for this … for any of it.”

  The last of his words sliced through my already tender heart like a double-edged knife. I knew he wasn’t ready, that his heartache was still too fresh and new, but having that knowledge validated still hurt.

  “Well, I hate to be the bad guy, but you don’t have much of a choice. The puppy needs you and your baby sure as hell is going to need you regardless if you’re ready or not.” I kind of needed him too but I wasn’t sure I was anywhere close to admitting that. “Shoving the responsibility off on someone else isn’t going to help you prepare for everything that’s coming your way, Wheeler.” I tucked some hair behind my ear and reached out to pat the puppy on the head. He whimpered at me and I looked up at Wheeler as he gave me a worried look similar to the one on the puppy’s face. “You can do this, Hudson. I know you can.”

  Maybe it was because I used his first name or because I moved my hand from the dog’s head to the center of his chest, but the harsh lines on his face softened and some of the stark terror leaked out of his eyes. He took a shuddering breath and slowly lowered his head so that he was looking at the tips of his boots.

  “Sorry for the freak-out. I usually have a better handle on myself than that. Lately, I feel like I’m drowning, and instead of trying to swim for shore, I just keep getting pulled out deeper and deeper.” He did look like a man that was very much adrift, one who was looking for anything that seemed familiar and solid.

  Taking a calming breath, I stepped into him and wrapped both him and the now calm puppy in my arms. I hadn’t accepted a hug in forever and it had been twice as long as that since I’d offered one. But this hug felt right. It felt necessary. It felt right. I squeezed him quickly and let him go.

  “You might feel like you are flailing but you’re keeping your head above water and that’s all that really matters. I promise I won’t let you sink, even when you want to.” That was a lesson I’d had to learn the hard way. It was difficult to appreciate everyone that was trying to help you when all you wanted to do was wallow in your own misery. I told him the very thing that made me go through with not only showing up at his house tonight but also asking for that kiss. “You will figure all of this out, one step at a time.” I didn’t tell him some days were going to seem impossible because those days always passed. I cleared my throat and made my way over to where my coat was thrown on the back of the couch that was most definitely not meant for a guy like Wheeler. “Thanks for dinner. Next time we get together, we’ll actually work on improving the dog’s behavior instead of ours.”

  He didn’t say anything but he did make a strangled no
ise that might have been a laugh had the circumstances been different. I was at the door ready to let myself back into the real world when he stopped me by saying my name softly. I looked at him over my shoulder and felt my heart turn itself inside out.

  The man and the dog, both looking lost and a little bit scared, made me want to take my coat off, put my purse down, and agree to stay so I could hold both of them. They needed to figure this out on their own and Wheeler really needed the time to see that there was no perfect way to be a puppy parent or a people parent. He was going to have to find the way that worked best for him.

  He lifted his hand and rubbed the pad of his thumb across the curve of his bottom lip. I watched in mute fascination as his tongue shot out and followed the same trail, almost like he was trying to find any part of our kiss that might be lingering there. The motion made my thighs quiver and had all the air in my lungs whooshing out.

  “When I said I wasn’t ready, I didn’t mean I wasn’t ready for you, honey.” Inadvertently my gaze slid across the front of him and landed on the very obvious bulge in the front of his jeans. He chuckled and shook his head at me, his voice deep and rough when he told me, “That’s not what I meant. Any straight guy with working equipment would be ready for you at the drop of a hat if it was only about sex. I’m ready for more than that.”

  The butterflies woke back up and they didn’t just flutter, they did the damn electric slide across one side of my belly to the other. He sounded so sure, but with everything else he was dealing with, I didn’t know how he could be. I refused to be one of the weights that was tied around his waist dragging him down under the surface of that dark and murky water he was treading. Besides, I didn’t know that I had more to give to anyone, even myself. Most of the time I felt like I was hollowed out and empty. Half the time I was getting by on the bare minimum. I couldn’t afford to give what I had left to someone else, even if that someone made me act like a girl who had never been broken, a girl that didn’t have anything to fear.