Chapter Five

Later, after a shower and dinner at Melissa’s, Mike waited in the living room for her to join him.

The police had come to the crisis center and taken down all the information Mike, Melissa, and Mrs. Martinez could give them. Mike didn’t plan to wait for the police to protect Melissa and those at the crisis center.

He had his own plan. He also needed to tell Melissa about his life with his parents, their questionable acquaintances, and his failure to protect his mom.

He looked up as she came in from the hallway. She wore a soft, sleeveless knit top, that left her delicious middle bare, and hip-hugger jeans. Nothing on her shapely feet.

“How are your bruises?” Her eyes revealed her concern. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the emergency room for treatment?”

Mike shook his head. “Nothing’s broken. I have some pretty ugly bruises forming, and I’m sore, but that’s all. I’ll be better when you sit beside me.”

She smiled at him and sat on the sofa, careful not to lean against his side.

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I need to tell you something that I’ve been holding in for a long time. After talking to the woman who was attacked at the crisis center today, I think it’s important for you to know.”

“Mrs. Martinez.” Melissa’s eyes were wide and questioning as she looked at him. “Something she said is worrying you?”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath and let it out.

“She told me about the men coming to their home and beating up her husband over some money. She said her husband had previously invited the same men to their house for parties and dinners on occasion. Her story reminded me of my parents and my life with them.”

“How so?” Melissa gazed at him patiently.

He found it hard to put into words. He had to start somewhere. “My parents fought with each other. They put a good face on things for friends and guests at parties. But I saw them fighting more often than I thought was normal. More intensely than most couples, I’ve always suspected. They didn’t have disagreements like people have at times. They had ugly, loud battles.”

He paused and took another deep breath. This was so damn hard to talk about with Melissa. Would she run from him after she knew? If she did, he’d never be able to tell her about the family curse. There was only one way to find out.

“My mother kept to her bedroom with the curtains closed against the sunlight. My father was a rich man, as you probably know.”

She nodded, and he continued. “He knew how to make money. It was a game he loved more than anything or anyone. He wasn’t around home much. Even so, I discovered he was also physically abusive to my mother.” He stopped and searched Melissa’s face for her reaction. Was she horrified?

He hadn’t even told her the worst about his parents yet. He should have been there to protect his mother when she needed help. Would he be able to protect Melissa?

Melissa took his hand in hers and squeezed. The tremors in his grip touched her. Hot tears threatened to fill her eyes. She glanced down and blinked frantically to clear her vision. Tears wouldn’t help Mike. “I understand that some people can’t find a way to get along. Some couples aren’t willing to form a middle ground. There are partners who won’t give even a little to make the other one happy. But your life doesn’t have to be that way.”

She wanted desperately to help Mike with his ghosts, but there was only so much she could do to help if he wouldn’t tell her everything. She sensed there was more to his story.

He cleared his throat. “What drives you to run the crisis center week after week with angry parents always around and giving you a hard time as well?”

Maybe it would help him if she told him about her friend’s sad life at home.

“My best friend in school was beaten by her father and also emotionally battered by parental fighting. I often asked her to spend the night at my home so she could avoid her parents’ fights. Especially on weekends, the battles were constant.”

She paused when Mike groaned. “How did things turn out for her?”

“She ran away from home in high school. I haven’t heard from her except once when she called to tell me she was staying with relatives in another state. I’ve really missed her.” She smiled with regret.

“That must have been the pits to lose touch with your friend.”

“I wish I could have helped her more. I didn’t want that to happen to other children, so now, I do all I can to provide shelter and a safe place for them.”

Melissa rubbed her fingers over Mike’s bruised hand. “I wish I could help you come to terms with your parents’ actions.”

“You have no idea.” She couldn’t know, having grown up in a loving home. “You never knew what a sorry situation I lived in.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about some pretty bad situations.” She gave him a wry smile.

He should tell her more about what his parents were like and how they battled.

“I always felt helpless that I couldn’t make things better at home between my parents. Some nights turned to horror when my parents fought. As I grew older, the fighting became worse.”

“I’m so sorry,” Melissa whispered.

“One night, when my mother started screaming, I opened her bedroom door and found her fighting my father in her bed.”

“Oh, Mike! How horrible.”

“She acted as if she were in a dazed stupor. My father slapped her. When I tried to stop him, furious, he left the rumpled bed. Mom rolled away and tried to cover herself with the sheet. Her cheeks were wet with tears.” Mike’s voice came as a soft rasp.

Melissa gazed at him and shook her head, frowning in sympathy.

“My father told me to get out. I refused to leave until he left. The following morning, he made a business trip on the first flight out of town. I went to school as usual. When I came home, my mom was once again in a drunken daze.” He couldn’t hide his frustration.

“Mike, your experience isn’t uncommon. I’ve had children relate similar things to me. It wasn’t your responsibility to keep your parents from fighting. They should have sought professional help for their marriage problems on their own.”

When she put her palm on the side of his face, he looked at her bleakly and continued. “My father insisted on having big parties, and Mom did her best to be his hostess. One of the questionable men became friends with her. That concerned me at the time, but she wouldn’t listen to my objections. I’m sure now that the man was a drug dealer and had turned Mom on to hard drugs.”

“What makes you think that?”

“At a swimming party hosted by my parents, complete with mariachis, I met the drug dealer’s children, who were also invited. Their son was my age and attended the same high school as we did. He offered me drugs, which I refused.”

Relief swamped Melissa. “Thank goodness you didn’t buy into it.”

“Living with a mother who was either drunk or high day and night, I had no desire to become like her—live the life she lived, a slave to drugs. I couldn’t convince her to stop, and I couldn’t convince her to get help. I failed her. I wasn’t there to prevent her death.”

“Look at me, Mike.” He turned and met her gaze. “I know you’re not responsible. Your parents should have found help for their problems. They knew that help was available. It was their choice not to seek it and not your fault.” She stroked his arm. “Can you tell me what happened?”

He looked across the room. “While I was at college, away from town and my parents, my father called one day to tell me my mom had died. By the time I got there, arrangements had been made at the funeral home. I suspected her body had been worn out from alcohol and drugs. She was probably out of it when she fell from the balcony to the rocks below. It killed her. Could I have saved her? That question still haunts me. I fear that I’ll fail to help someone else in danger.”

“There was nothing you could have done to prevent your mother’s death. I know that. She needed a physician’s care.”

“Yes, she did, but still, maybe if I’d been there, I could have done something.”

Melissa shook her head. “In my experience with the crisis center, I don’t think you could have stopped her.”

He took a deep breath. “My father died the following year in a car accident caused by a blinding dust storm.”

“How awful,” Melissa said.

“My father’s lawyer explained to me that I was sole beneficiary of my father’s business dealings. I knew from my classes at college about how the business should be handled. I hired a business manager and set about forming my own business as a private investigator.”

When she considered the loving home she’d come from, compared to the heartbreak Mike suffered growing up and losing his parents, the difference in their social positions monetarily didn’t mean anything.

Mike could very well become abusive because of his upbringing with an abusive father. She would never let herself be trapped in that kind of situation. She wrapped her arms around Mike’s shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

He turned to her. “Make love with me,” he rasped, and devoured her lips, ravaging her mouth. His arms pulled her close in a bear hug.

She welcomed him. She loved him. Probably always had. Would he break her heart? Would she be forced to leave him?

“I want you in bed, right now.” He rose from the couch and scooped her into his arms.

She delved her fingers through his hair, kissed his jaw and neck as he carried her.

Mike had to get control of his inner beast before he took her without care. He lowered her to the foot of the bed. “I want your clothes off.” He reached to help her lift her shirt off. She wore nothing underneath. Her beautiful breasts tempted him. He licked first one nipple and then the other. Lust raged through him. He suckled each turgid, rosy tit. With reluctance he straightened and lifted her to her feet. “Let’s get these off.”

She reached for her waistband as he unzipped her jeans and pushed them down her long, beautiful legs. He shook with need. “Hold on to my shoulders.”

After removing her jeans from her ankles and feet, he removed his own clothing, tossing each piece on the floor as she walked to the side of the bed.

“Come here.” He pointed to a spot right in front of him. “I want you right here.”

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “There’s not much room there.”

“There’s plenty of room for what I have in mind.”

She returned to the foot of the bed, her eyes wide.

“Sit.”

She sat on the edge.

“Scoot back a bit.” He grabbed the pillows and put them behind her for her head. “Now, ease back.” She did as he said, and the sight of her rose-colored nipples surrounded by pale globes was beautiful.

“Now what?” She sounded breathless and a little unsure.

He dropped to his knees in front of her. “I want your legs resting on my shoulders.” When she didn’t protest, he lifted her legs, one at a time, and draped them over his shoulders. “ Perfect.”

As he lowered his head and tasted her, she gasped. He licked and nibbled. Parted her swollen folds and sucked her clit.

“Mike!” Her fingers delved through his hair and clutched.

He nuzzled and kissed her flesh and delved his tongue into her opening. Stroked her slick, sensitive pussy as he speared in and out of her, mimicking the motions of his cock.

She bucked against him. “Oh. Mike!”

He dipped one finger inside her and spread her moisture through her folds. She writhed beneath his touch. Slipping his finger inside her again, he stroked along her slit and lower.

She grasped his hair. “Mike!”

He chuckled. “Like that?”

“I need you inside me.” She reached for him.

He gave her one more long lick from her wet opening through the pink, swollen folds to her clit. He lifted her legs from his shoulders and placed her feet on the edge of the bed. Need ravaged him as he gazed at her wet pussy. “You’re beautiful, babe.”

He positioned the head of his stiff cock at her opening and pushed inside.

“Oh,” she moaned.

He thrust slowly until she took all of him, his aroused balls snug against her. He groaned with the pleasure.

“Please,” she whispered.

He looked down at her. She gripped the bed clothing in her fists. Her hips tilted up, moving against him, taunting him. He pulled out most of the way and slid back inside. In and out, again and again. At the sound of her sharp whimper, he reached between them and rubbed her clit.

She gave a keening cry and arched her back. “Mike!” she cried. She convulsed around him.

Her contractions and the tension in his body triggered his climax. “Yes,” he shouted, his cock pumping over and over.

Finally, his body quieted. He heard her soft panting breaths beneath his own. “Sweet lord, Melissa. That was amazing. I’ve never experienced such mind-blowing sex, ever.”

She reclined limp and lethargic, smiling at him. “That was wonderful. You have my permission to do that anytime you want.” She grinned at him.

His body slowly relaxed. He looked down and gently pulled out of her opening. His cock was wet and relaxed.

Wet and—bare.

Shit. He’d forgotten to use a condom. “God, Melissa. I’m sorry.”

“What?” She rose up as he unfolded her legs from the edge of the bed.

“I forgot to use a condom. I can’t believe I did that. How could I be so careless? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really. I’m on the pill, and I’m sure it’s fine.”

He wasn’t convinced. He’d heard of women getting pregnant even though they were on the pill. What if she got pregnant?

Melissa was his woman. He’d take care of her and protect her. If she was pregnant, he’d love the child as much as she would and protect them both, now and in the future.