His Old Lady - Debra Kayn Page 0,57

else's seeds, someone else's plants."

"She's a part of you." He trailed his hand along her spine and gently squeezed the back of her neck. "You can't lose the memories, the teachings, the love."

Her warm breath blew on his chest. "Do you have a family?"

"You," he answered quickly.

She lifted her head. He was glad for the darkness. His past was ancient history. She was his woman, that's all that mattered to him.

"What about your parents?" she whispered.

"I'm sure they're out there somewhere."

"When is the last time you saw them?"

His hand stilled. "When my dad beat my ass in the driveway and told me to get the hell out of there and never come back."

She gasped. "How old were you?"

"Almost eighteen years old," he muttered.

She put her head back on the pillow and snuggled against his chest. He continued to rub her back. It'd been a long time since he was a kid, and not one day went by where he gave his parents any thought. They were shit people and even worse parents.

When he'd left home, it was the last time he allowed someone to lay a hand on him after growing up under his dad's fists. Every fight from that day forward, he won. Even when he got the shit beat out of him, he walked away, knowing he never cowered.

Faye's breathing evened out. Wide awake, he kept touching her.

This was how it was supposed to be between them. He should be spending every night with her in his arms.

But for every night he gained, he was only setting her up for heartbreak. He was making things worse for her. Once again, he wished it was him sitting in prison instead of Walker. At least he would've done right by her.

Faye moaned, wiggling against him. He kissed the top of her head, soothing her.

Her breasts pressed against the front of him. Her hard nipples scorched his skin.

It was going to be a long fucking night.

She wasn't a young girl anymore. It was getting harder for him to stay away. Maybe not staying away was the answer. Could he possibly treat her like his old lady and weather the storm that would come when she finds out the truth?

And she would find out. There was never any doubt. Maybe not tomorrow or a year from now, but Walker would get released from prison in nine years. Shit would have to be sorted. Faye would learn enough to form her own opinion about him.

She'd hate him. She'd kill him. Maybe not with a gun to the head, but there would be nothing left of him if he lost her.

He and Walker belonged to Tarkio, and he would owe Walker for paying for his crime. Afraid Walker would ask him to step away from Faye, he knew the price was too much to pay. That's why he never visited the prison after claiming Faye. He wasn't going to take a chance that Walker turned on him, and he lost the only good thing in his life.

But he couldn't help feeling as if he had more nights like this with Faye in his arms, it would be worth losing her in the end.

Chapter 25

Faye

Too exhausted to open her eyes, Faye squirmed against the firmness of her bed, trying to find her pillow. If she forced herself to get up, she'd need to face the fact that her greenhouse was gone and her morning chores were no longer there.

Moving her head to find a comfortable spot, she jolted fully awake, realizing it was Curley underneath her.

She blinked her eyes open.

All her senses went haywire. One of his hands cupped her butt and the other tangled in her hair.

She held her breath, trying to tell if he was asleep or awake. Her upper body atop him, she dared not move. Even her legs were entwined with his.

A pulsating hardness throbbed against her hip. If he wasn't awake, a certain body part of his was telling her good morning.

She swallowed, aroused despite the awkwardness of waking up on top of him. They were comfortable around each other naked, but there was something about the early hours that made her hesitant to be with him.

Like she'd dreamed sleeping with him. That once he woke, he'd ride away and go back to Tarkio.

"Curley," she whispered, not moving her body.

"Hm?"

Okay. He was semi-awake. She could handle the predicament like a mature woman and slip from the bed and get dressed.

Her body tensed in arousal, fighting against her. She really, really