*Jordan

I try to go home when I leave the wooden bridge and Cole standing on the dusty road. I try to guide my car on the familiar paths, the safe paths that keep me out of the wolves' teeth. Predators are everywhere, and like Little Red Riding Hood, I learned my lesson the hard way.

I grew up with do as your told and don't talk back. I bent over backwards to never make waves ever since my mother died when I was nine and Amber was ten and Reese was twelve.

Dad would come home tired and drunk, and completely ignore us. Or angry and mean, and fists would fly. Or drunk and too affectionate, wanting us to sit on his lap or worse. Always something. Stay small, stay out of the way, and keep your mouth closed were the rules that kept me in one piece. My sisters fought back. I didn't.

But then, they fought for me, didn't they? Then they took off as soon as they thought I was safe. After he died when I was seventeen, I was out of his reach, but like a fool, fell into Trey's grip. A couple of years later, I became the submissive, good wife who obeyed her husband and anticipating his needs to the point of neglecting my own.

Looking back, knowing what I know now and how the world works, I see the steps he took to reel me in and trap me in his control. He picked his victim—me—for weakness and the broken hurt I must have projected. He started by being too sweet to resist, offering to drive me places I needed to go when my sisters and I were sharing one run-down Ford. He passed me notes, he had me sit with him at lunch instead of alone, since Amber graduated early. He invited me to parties and put his arm around my shoulder, as if we belonged together. I never had this kind of attention from anyone before. I didn't have many friends and my sisters were hell-bent on leaving town. It wasn't long before I was completely isolated, with only Trey in my life. Everyone else was dead or gone. Little by little, his family started to hate me. Passionately. I still don't understand why, except that they expected great things from him and must have thought I was the one holding him back.

They had no clue who he really was. If he passed his classes the last two years of school, it was because of me. If he didn't get arrested for shoplifting, it was because I showed him how to do it, or did it for him. If he didn't drive home completely wasted after a party and kill himself, it was again, because of me. I pretended to drink at those parties with rowdy boys jostling and shoving to be the alpha. Shouting at each other to chug more beer until they puked on my shoes. Dragging girls off into the bushes—I'm not sure all those girls knew what was going on.

If I could get those boys in a dark alley with me now, I'd show them what it means to be hurt in the dark. And Trey was king asshole of them all. I just didn't see it until it was too late.

He was supposed to go to college, but his departure was scheduled shortly after we started having sex. I had managed to hold out for over a year, but he wouldn't wait any longer. I didn't know anything about my body. He didn't want to use a condom, so we didn't.

His parents blamed me. Called me a slut. I was only eighteen, but I wanted that baby. I needed someone to love, someone to call family. Amber had taken off the second she graduated high school, so brilliant she had a full-ride scholarship to an out of state-school, and Reese waited until a couple of days after I turned eighteen.

I was legal and could own the house. She was gone from one day to the next. We were too broken to stay together as sisters.

Trey took a warehouse job outside of the city since I was pregnant, but I lost the baby at the end of the first trimester. I think he was relieved. Relieved I miscarried and he didn't have to be a dad, and relieved I prevented him from having to go to college.

He could still have a semblance of fun. His mom wasn't pampering him anymore, I was. And I knew better than to try and tell him what to do. He was very happy with the arrangement, I can see it now.

A couple years afterwards, I got pregnant again on accident. He didn't believe the birth control didn't work. He hit me, screaming that I was lying to him. He accused me of flushing my pills because I was a controlling bitch who wanted to ruin his life.

So I tried to leave him, and he beat me up even worse. I'll never know how I managed to stay pregnant with Emma, not eating, not sleeping, always bruised. She was my miracle, an angel sent to be with me. I swore to protect her forever.

And I failed.

I failed my baby.

I cry into Cole's chest and he strokes my hair, whispering over and over that it will be all right, and I let myself believe him.

If anything in this world is right and good, it's me being with him right at that moment. It can't and won't last, but I need these few precious hours to escape the unbearable pain I live with every day.

"Cole," I say, yanking my shirt over my head. "I want—"

"Shh, I know." He kisses me hard, hands strong and demanding on my hips and ass.

I give into him, letting him lead me to his bed. I'm impatient, though. I can't wait for him to make me ready before taking off his pants. I want his sex in my hand, in my mouth, and fucking me. Now.

I unbutton his pants, pushing them down over his ass and his cock springs free. I stroke its length to make him as impatient as I am.

"Wait," he whispers, reaching for a condom.

"Don't put one on."

He freezes his, hand on his side-table. "Why not?"

"I want your come inside me."

"It's safer like this, we don't know each other that well. Not to mention, if you don't have back-up protection, you could get pregnant."

"I could, couldn't I?" I tug his cock harder and undulate under him. My jeans are unzipped and low on my hips.

He cups my face to lean close to my ear. I can feel his breath on my skin and hair and his thumbs rub my cheeks. "Is that what you want? A baby? Me to give you a baby?"

I tremble at the strength lying hidden in his voice, the raw emotion he keeps in check as he holds me. Is that what I want? He'd give me that? And leave me to raise my baby? My next exhale betrays me—shaky and hitched.

Cradling my head, he kisses my ear and cheek. "Maybe not tonight. Think it over. Think about what you really want—and if I can, I'll give it to you."

He pulls my jeans lower and I push them all the way off. As he rolls on the condom, I'm already maneuvering beneath him, drawing him closer between my legs. I run my fingers down the ridged length of his abs and the sharp V to his cock and I guide it to my entrance.

"Not yet, you aren't ready," he says.

"Like fuck, I'm not. Make me forget everything but you, Cole."

He locks eyes with me and shifts, working the tip of his cock into my pussy. I bite my lip in anticipation and tip my hips forward to meet him. He slides into me slowly, up to the base of cock, sending shivers up my belly.

"Tonight, there's only you and me." His voice is a rough growl. He leans over me and drives his cock in hard, from tip to base. He does it again, and again. Each time he almost withdraws and I ache for him to fill me, then he does and I shake as he rams deep inside me.

I'm climaxing already. I call his name, trying to tell him not to stop and he speeds up, but still using the full length of his cock as he moves. Not fast enough. I arch my hips up to meet him with each thrust, straining to be closer, to feel him more. He half sits back and lifts my hips to guide me. I'm under his control. His arm muscles bulge and his stomach and jaw are clenched with the effort.

I arch up and into him, my hands clutching the covers next to me. I can't breathe, or think. I only feel. My orgasm washes over me, drowning me. I'm gasping for and holding on as he continues to pound into my pussy.

Then he freezes, holding me in place and a low groan escapes his mouth. Pulsing in my sex tells me he's pumping the condom full of sperm, and once again, I almost regret we had to use one. I wiggle a little, coaxing his orgasm on for as long as I can make it go.

He bends over low and kisses my belly up to my chest between my breasts, to my collarbone and collapses next to me on the bed. One arm wraps around my waist protectively and he nuzzles into the crook of my neck.

"That was too fast," he mutters.

"That was perfect. Sometimes a woman needs what a woman needs."

He chuckles. "And I'll take care of those needs. But next time, I'll go slower, make you beg louder for it."

I love this side of him, both playful and confident. And cocky. So cocky. Speaking of...

His cock is already twitching again, and my mouth actually waters. I really can't get enough of him. I've never been so eager and hot for a man—especially after what Trey did to me.

At that thought, my emotions tangle up and tears sting the backs of my eyes. I wanted to forget. For one night. I can't even have that without Trey getting inside my head.

"I should go," I whisper. I'm on the brink of crying again, and I don't want Cole to see how weak I am. Not twice in one night.

"You should stay." He does not sound like he wants to argue about it.

I rub my cheeks dry as discretely as possible, hoping he doesn't notice. "We both need our sleep after I kept you up all of last night."

He flips over me, and in an instant, he's pinned my arms to the bed and he glares at me. "Is that a challenge? Don't you think I can do this two nights in a—" His expression softens suddenly. He studies my face in concern. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, of course not. I loved what you did to me." Blood rushes to my cheeks and I grow hot under his piercing gaze. Thankfully the lights are dim or I'd be even more embarrassed. "It has nothing to do with you. I'm just a mess, and you shouldn't have to clean up after my emotional break-downs."

He doesn't move and suddenly the tears are spilling out on my cheeks, running to my ears where they make cold puddles. I'm so pathetic. My voice breaks, but I force myself to say, "I really should go home."

He shifts and releases my hands as I curl away.

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