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Her hips grind. One hand tightens in my hair. “You really… mean it… don’t you? You’re going to… ah, fuck… let me go, aren’t you?”

“I don’t lie to the people I care about.”

“And that includes me now?”

I slide two fingers in deep and meet her eyes. “Yes.”

She groans in pleasure as I go back to licking her pussy. No more talking now. There’s nothing left to discuss. Desire courses through my veins as I fill her with my fingers, grinding and stroking. I listen to her noises like a musician following the sound. I slow, speed up, find the spots she loves. Her back arches against my face and I lick her, sucking faster, joy flooding me, because this is what she deserves, this is what she needs.

A man who wants to take care of her. A man who wants to make her feel good for once.

I moan as her whimpers turn to gasps of delight. She begs for more, begs me to keep going. I stroke faster, sucking, licking, as lost in the moment as she is. She grinds against my mouth and I fucking love it, the dirty girl. She tastes like heaven and her sounds are my bliss, everything I need, more than I ever realized I could want.

I’ve never needed a woman like this before. Not only her body, her breasts, her sounds, her moans, her wetness, but the way she feels. This intense need to fill her and fuck her and make her feel good, make her feel protected and taken care of. And even though I know my protection could be her nightmare and her cage, I don’t care, I can’t rectify those two extremes.

All I can do is touch her. Lick her. Taste her and be with her here and now, make her back arch and her mouth open, my name on her tongue, heavenly, perfection, better than any drug.

I grind my fingers as deep as they’ll go when she screams and cries out. “Oh fuck!” she gasps, twitching against my face, the flood of her warmth like honey. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, Bass!”

I’m a bastard as I finish her, not slowing or holding back. She shudders and gulps, falling back to her elbows, breathing hard. Her jeans and her panties are on the floor, her lovely lower half naked and glistening wet, her chest rising and falling. I glide back to study her, licking my fingers with a smile.

“That’s… not what I expected.” She grins, eyelids heavy.

“Oh no?” My brows lift. “You didn’t come here to get off?”

“No! Bass!” Her cheeks flush pink. “Oh, you’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, love.”

“Well, I only came to thank you for helping Cruz, that’s all.”

“And here you are, getting rewarded.”

“Aren’t I the most lucky girl in the whole world?”

I move forward again and kiss her thighs. “I’d say so.”

She sits up and cradles my face, leaning down to kiss me. I let that kiss linger, luxuriating in it, wondering: how long can we keep this up? How long can we do this? Let whatever this is—whatever these emotions are—begin to filter into our lives?

“Can I ask you something?” She pulls back, smiling.

“Anything.”

“I noticed you leave lights on all over the place. Like every morning you leave the bathroom light on for me. It’s sweet, but it’s everywhere. What’s with that?”

She asks so gently. She’s clearly curious. But I stiffen, the woodshed hitting me, his last words echoing through time: Bass! Wait! At least leave the fucking light on for me! Bass!

“It’s nothing.” I pull away, the rush of getting her off mixing with that horrible memory, sending a tension deep into my spine. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I can stop.”

“No, it’s not a big deal.” She frowns in confusion. “Did I ask something wrong?”

“It’s fine.” I want to tell her. I want to explain it all. But how can I face that shame? How can I live with myself when she knows what I really am? The monster I’ve always been?

Because no matter how hard I try to take care of the people I love, it won’t ever erase my shame.

She dresses and I know she’s confused. I don’t blame her. She did nothing wrong by asking. Only it sent me down a bad path, on an ugly spiral, and I can’t get those memories from my head.

When she’s put together again though, I make sure to kiss her.