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“Close your eyes. Please?”

Uncertainty attacked his nerves and locked up his knees. He closed his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. Now tell me about last night.”

The firm pressure on his back distracted him. Her breasts? Her hands?

His head spun with a conflagration of images. Her red lace bra. The wind pummeling the shed. Her sensual lips. The creak of the oven door. He needed the numbing effects of blow. Sifting through his pockets, his hand came up empty. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Maybe you did fuck them. They were covered in semen.”

Her detached voice splintered the vortex of memories. Or was it his aunt’s voice?You’re cold. So cold.Why was she tormenting him? The floor canted and he rocked on his feet. “I don’t know.”

“They called themselves Charlee. I’m your only Charlee, right?”

Mildew and soot chased his rapid inhales. He smacked his hand against the rotting wood wall.

“Jay…Jay?”

Charlee called to him from outside the shed. Her lilt wasn’t accusing. It was soothing and alive and breathing through him. Her lips latched on to his back, holding him to her. “I might not be able to help you, but I’ll share your pain if you let me. Tell me about last night.”

Something cracked inside him. The humiliation he’d tried to keep from her trickled out. “I tied them up and jerked off on their cunts.” He closed his eyes. “I did it while thinking of you and shouting your name over and over until I don’t remember anything else.” His body sagged, and his heart rate depressed.

“Look at me, Jay.”

Eyes aching with vulnerability, he turned half-way in theVof her thighs, stopped. Pale pink nipples filled his vision. They pointed up, one resting erotically against his bicep. He absorbed every detail from their curves and size to their velvety texture. He couldn’t stop his groan nor could he stop himself from completing the turn to face her. The hands on his shoulders slid with his movement.

Oxygen vanished. Black and white flashes blotted out her face. He strained to see through it, to focus on her smile, the strength in her eyes. All the filth in his head weakened in comparison.

“My hands have been here a while.” She used those hands to twist his shoulders and pull his back against her chest. “You were doing great until you saw them, so focus on me, okay?”

He dragged his gaze over his shoulder and watched her reflection in the mirror. He drank in the arch of her slender neck and the slope of her bare shoulder as she dipped her lips to the flame inked between her fingers. Fingers that massaged his scars. Fingers he hadn’t noticed…then it dawned on him. “All your questions about those girls were just a way to distract me?”

Tingling shocks zapped from her kneading hands. She gave his back an open mouth kiss. “I thought, if I could keep one of your recent memories well supplied with fuel, the older ones would stay quiet.”

At that moment, he knew she hadn’t just given him the pleasure of her touch. It was a challenge, a proposal of what could be, an offer of salvation. “You make me want to let all my memories surface. I want to face them.”

“You will.” She bit his shoulder, and her playfulness woke his dick.

The heat of her palms sliding over his shoulders, the sweep of her tongue tracing his scars, and the sweet fragrance of her hair wrapped him in a whirlwind of sensations.

“You’re responding so well to my hands, I want to take advantage.”

Before he could question her, she reached around and cupped him between his legs. He choked on a noisy gulp and dug his fingernails into the wallpaper. As psychologically turned on as he was, no way could he prevent the intensity of his hard-on.

She traced the curve of his erection through his leathers and smiled against his back. “Oh my God. You’re ginormous.”

If he didn’t already know he was averagely sized, the laughter in her voice would’ve cued him to her teasing. His rebuff died in his throat when her other hand joined the first and her pelvis pressed against his ass.

She nuzzled his back and ground against him. “I want to see it.”

A shudder skated through him. He couldn’t form a coherent answer with her arms locked around his waist and her hands rubbing in synchronized motions on either side of his cock.

Sharp hot exhales followed the wet trail of her mouth down his spine. She was breathing too fast. He was breathing faster. When her fingers quickened and strengthened, he dug deep and found his voice. “I want you under me, not behind me.”

“Okay.” A breathy, empowering response. She was still with him.

He twisted around and captured her in his arms, pushed her back against the mirror, and devoured the heady spice of her lips. His leather pants itched and confined. Her leggings were in the way. Too many fucking clothes.