Page 72 of Damaged Protector

They called me Hawk; I called them honey.

I never called them by their real names, just honey. Did that make me an asshole? Yeah, probably, but it was better than saying Keely when her name was Kylie or Kaylie or some shit. I’d made that mistake. Once. Didn’t end well.

For some reason I couldn’t fathom, it felt wrong to call Mallori by the same thing I used for the nameless women I’d fucked. No. She was…

“Little Bee, your mouth is so fucking sweet.”

She pulled back a fraction, laying several soft pecks against my lips before opening her eyes and smiling. “If I’d known how good you could kiss, I would have done it sooner.”

I laughed at her pure cheekiness. “I’m pretty sure I kissed you, Bee.”

“Yeah, well. I kissed you first.” Her eyes lowered and her fingers sifted through the hair on my chest. “We probably shouldn’t have done that though, right?” When her aqua gaze returned to mine, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth, looking so fucking vulnerable.

I probably should have agreed that it was a mistake, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that when she was looking at me like that. So I lifted her drooping chin with my fingers and pressed another kiss to her swollen lips.

“We didn’t do anything wrong, Mal. We’re both adults, and we just needed a… break… from what we were talking about.”

She blinked twice and then her face broke into a smile. “Like a coffee break?”

“Yeah, but that was a lot better than Starbucks.”

“Agreed,” she said with a giggle, swinging her leg over and settling beside me. But not before I caught a flash of light-blue panties that matched the sundress she was wearing. More lace ones. Fuck me.

Mallori had left a wet spot on the front of my shorts, and I quickly shifted my legs beneath the cream-colored covers so I could cover my lap—and the unmistakable bulge of my cock. She did the same, leaning into my side.

I wasn’t a big snuggler, but the feel of her warmth against me felt good, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Will you finish telling me what happened?” she asked, looking up at me.

“Not a lot more to tell. I was taken to the police station, and the prosecutor came in to talk to me. His name was Paul Browning, and he’d gotten out of bed to meet with me because he knew my dad. After listening to my side of the story, he sat back in his chair and stared at me for a long time. I was so fucking scared.”

“I imagine,” Mal said, her hand resting lightly on my chest. “You were just a kid.”

“I was, but I was already pretty huge. I probably wouldn’t have garnered much sympathy from a jury. Luckily, Paul had a sister that he was very fond of, so he told me he understood why I had lost my shit. He decided not to prosecute but said I needed to learn to harness my strength and energy into something more worthwhile.”

“The military.”

“Yeah. That’s what he suggested. Of course, I was familiar with military life because of my dad, so it was a natural fit. I enlisted as soon as I graduated a few months later, and I finally felt like I had found my home.”

“And it helped you?”

I looked down at her and kissed the spot just between her eyes. “Yeah, it did. I learned control. Came to depend on it. And I knew I couldn’t ever have any kind of normal relationship because I didn’t ever want to go through what my dad did. I’d be gone on deployments and shit, and… I don’t know. I guess I never would be able to trust anyone I left behind.”

Mallori nodded. “I get that. What happened with your parents?”

“They divorced. I was angry with my dad for a long time because if he’d never taken her back the first time, maybe what happened wouldn’t have happened.” I sighed, my hand moving slowly up and down Mallori’s arm. “He and I eventually mended our fences, but I still don’t talk much with my mom. She was actually pissed at me for going overboard that night.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup. I know she felt bad about what happened to Jennifer, but she said I should have controlled myself better. Punched him once and kicked him out of the house. I think she thought if the police hadn’t been called, then maybe Dad never would have found out about her affairs again.”

“It was her own damn fault,” Mallori raged. “Bringing a strange man into your home? God, what was she thinking?”

I didn’t respond because there was no good answer to that question. Finally, I asked, “When you’re ready, will you tell me what happened with Moreau?”

She flinched at the mention of his name, and I tightened my hand around her upper arm. “Yeah. Like I said, he was my professor. He’s very famous in the dance world, and it’s an honor to be chosen to work with him.” A disgusted snort escaped her. “At least that’s what I thought at first.”

I kept my eyes on her face, but she seemed lost in her story, gaze focused on the far wall. “I was to have private lessons with him. He only worked with senior level students, and only a few were selected each year. Our first lesson was at night. He made what I thought were some inappropriate comments, but I told myself he was just eccentric.”

“Did he touch you?” I asked, my voice low and dark.