Nobody's Perfect (11 page)

But he didn't want to shut her down again. "What did I do?"

"You gave me Marisol. Without her, I never could have left that house. You gave me the courage to leave."

"If I'd known…" How much abuse was Damián responsible for? After all, he'd returned her to the monster's house that night.

She placed her finger over his lips. "It's not your fault. You're not to blame." Hearing her throw his own words back at him told Damián he'd at least gotten through to her mentally, whether she accepted the words for herself yet or not. Hell, she probably didn't believe them any more than he did. But guilt could eat a person alive. Man, did he know that.

Damián's gaze lowered to her full pink lips. Having her body pressed against his like this wasn't such a great idea at the moment.
Control yourself,
Chico
. He'd spent more than six years regaining control of his life, his body, after Fallujah. Why couldn't he maintain control over one long-neglected part of his body at the moment?

He wasn't going to make a move on her, though. He'd only hurt her if he pushed her too far sexually, then abandoned her. Again.

Which he would have to do eventually. She needed a whole man.

That didn't mean he couldn't fantasize about being with Savannah again. Savi. Whatever the hell she wanted to be called. She was the woman he'd dreamt about for more than eight years.

Mi sueño.

Chapter Four

Savi had too much to lose to get involved with Damián. So, why did she feel the need to comfort him? She didn't want him to feel responsible for what her father had done to Savannah all those years ago.

She shuddered.

To her.

But she hadn't told Damián about her father back when they were two desperate nineteen-year-olds just seeking one day of perfection in each other's arms. There had been no need. She'd planned to end her life that night after he'd dropped her off at home. How could he know what horrors happened to her in the stately, but sinister, mansion on the hill in Rancho?

Damián's gaze warmed her lips, and she held her breath. She needed to get back to Mari. Now. Before it was too late.

Don't panic. This is Damián. He won't hurt you.

His head came toward hers and she shivered. How could she be hot and cold at the same time? Was she about to go into another panic attack? She opened her mouth to tell him she didn't want to do this, but Damián seemed to take it as an invitation and his lips brushed hers.

Savi's heart pounded. Fight or flight kicked in. Why couldn't she just enjoy the sensation of his kiss? Part of her wanted to respond and enjoy it. Heat pooled in her lower abdomen.

No!

I can't do this.

Damián pulled away and looked down at her. "You okay?"

She shook her head, but no words came out when she opened her mouth to speak. How had he known she needed to stop? No matter. The point was that he'd stopped, even without her needing to tell him to stop.

"I'm sorry, Damián."

"Sorry about what?"

"I can't." She couldn't even say the words, but surely he knew what she meant. She looked into Damián's deep brown eyes.

The pads of his thumbs brushed along her still damp cheekbones. "Tell me what you're feeling."

Feeling?

"Nothing."

But she had. And she didn't like it at all.

Savi shook her head and looked down in shame, trying to negate the response her body had had. She didn't want to feel anything sexual ever again. Kissing led to sex. Sex was dirty. Sex hurt. She splayed her hands against his chest and gave him a gentle push, but he didn't budge. Again the feelings of panic started to bubble up.

"Talk to me, Savi."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Look at me."

Her gaze rose to meet his. Why did he keep pushing? Worse still, why did she respond to him so docilely?

"Better." He smiled. "Now, when's the last time you were kissed—by a man, not Marisol or some air-kiss from a girlfriend. I mean the wet, heart-pounding kiss of a man."

Well, that was easy to answer. It had only happened with one person. "At Thousand Steps Beach."

He didn't mask the look of surprise on his face, then grinned and pointed to his chest, the obvious question in his eyes.

"Don't let it go to your head. I'm not interested in men for kissing or…anything else."

His grin widened. "I think we've made enough progress for one morning. I'll let you flit back to Marisol,
mi mariposa
, while I take a shower. A very cold shower."

Savi didn't want to think about his being aroused right now, and she tensed.

Damián placed his hands on the tops of her shoulders. "What was that thought?" He seemed upset with her reaction. She shuddered and tried to pull away.

"You want more than I can give."

"But I'm not going to take it, Savi, if you aren't giving it. I can control my body. I will never force you to do anything. I'm not like those other men."

She hoped not. She didn't think he was, either. How else would she have been able to come to him for help? But she'd only wanted his protection—not his kisses, his affection, his advances. How had this morning turned into such a chaotic mixture of emotions? Her head swam, as if she were careening on the Tilt-o-Whirl Mari loved so much at the annual church festival.

"We'll go play with Marisol and her toys, then I'm taking you both out for Christmas dinner this afternoon with some friends of mine at a nice local place I think you'll like."

Not waiting for him to change his mind about letting her go, Savi slid sideways, pressure from his hips and his arousal that she was trying to deny caused her to suck in her stomach. He chuckled.

Savi nearly ran from the bathroom, then took a moment in the bedroom to compose herself. She held her cold hands to her warm face and tried to regulate her breathing. Slowly, her heart rate returned to something resembling normal and she planted a smile on her face. She'd be embarrassed to face Damián's friends after that panic attack. They must think she was unbalanced.

When she opened the door and walked into the room, Marc was kneeling on the floor next to Angelina and Mari, who was holding a squirming bundle of black-and-white fur in one hand and her new plush stuffed kitty in the other, introducing the two to each other.

Marc looked up at Savi and scrutinized her for a moment, then smiled. He stood up and reached down for Angelina's hand. They came over to her while Mari continued to enjoy two of her Christmas presents.

"I'm sorry about that…"

Angelina held her hand up to halt the words. "No apologies necessary. I'm just glad to see you're feeling better."

Marc looked toward the bedroom. Savi felt compelled to explain Damián's delay. "Oh, he needed to take a shower." The grin that widened across Marc's face told her what he thought, but Savi wasn't comfortable with him thinking that about her. She didn't arouse anyone, not on purpose, anyway.

"With Mari and me taking over his bedroom, his bathroom time can be a little hard to schedule." His eyes told her he didn't buy a word of it. "Anyway, thank you for bringing Mari the kitten. But I know you need to get to your Christmas dinner." She wished she could return to having a quiet Christmas alone with Mari. Okay, she wanted Damián to be a part of the day, too. For Mari.

But they could never be a real family, even if Mari connected them by blood. Savi was damaged goods.

"Oh, we're fine," Angelina assured her. "Mama makes enough food for an army." She paused a moment. "I hope you enjoy the meal at Adam and Karla's."

Savi figured that must be the restaurant Damián had mentioned where they'd be joining his friends later. "I'm sure it will be wonderful."

Angelina smiled. Maybe she'd recommended the place to Damián.

"Maman, I'm going to call him Boots. Is that a good name?"

Thank God she didn't choose Whiskers.

Savi looked at Mari's tiny hands and the ball of fluff curled up, sound asleep. The little fella trusted its new mama. She remembered how this kitten had taken great interest in Mari when they were at the outfitter's store two weeks ago. Its white paws and leggings looked like knee-high boots.

Mari crooned to her new little friend and an ache broke loose in Savi's chest. The two already had bonded. Savi would fight like a mama grizzly to make sure no one separated them. Ever.

Damián came into the room wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt with a Harley emblem on it looking positively sinister. His hair had been drawn into the queue she'd come to expect. He came over to Mari and hunkered down, reaching out to pet the kitten for a moment.

Achoo!

Savi reached automatically for the box of Kleenex and handed it to Damián. "God bless you."

"Thanks."
Achoo!

Red splotches broke out on his face and he was hit by another sneeze. Angelina dispensed the blessings this time.

Savi began to have a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Damián, you aren't allergic to cats, are you?"

Please tell me you aren't.

"Of course not."
Achoo!
His gaze went to the kitten and he squinted as if the possibility was becoming more real.

No way could she let him take Boots away from Mari. Her little girl needed something stable in her life after all the turmoil she'd been through the last couple of weeks. Mari needed this kitten. She'd already lost all the things they'd had to leave behind—all of Mari's photos, memorabilia from school, books, and toys.

She hoped she didn't lose those things forever. Savi had nothing left of her own childhood, not even from the happier years before Maman left. Having something she could call her own would make her little girl feel more secure.

After all, she couldn't impose on Damián forever, especially in his small place. They were practically climbing over each other as it was. Memories of the tight quarters in the bathroom with Damián sent an unfamiliar tension through her and a flush of heat into her cheeks. She'd imposed on Damián long enough. Maybe this was the impetus she needed to get her and Mari into a place of their own.

First things first. The first step would be to pursue legal channels and check into creating new identities for them. Then she could look into getting licensed in social work, find a job, and rent a separate place where she and Mari could live.

But Savi didn't want to separate Mari and Damián completely. Guilt over not trying harder to unite the two of them sooner ate at her conscience again. Savi owed him the chance to get to know his daughter; to let Mari get to know her daddy.

"Sure looks like allergies to me," Marc said, pulling Savi away from her thoughts. "Do you have any Benadryl?"

Damián nodded, wiping at his eyes. "Bathroom." Marc headed in that direction, while Savi went to the kitchen to pour him a glass of water.

Please let it be a mild allergy. Please.

* * *

Damián pulled in next to Luke's new gray Dodge pick-up truck in the driveway. Judging by the amount of mud on the fenders, he'd been off-road somewhere this morning because it hadn't looked like that last night when Luke had delivered the dollhouse. Marc's friend was becoming a regular at the club. Of course, Luke had worked on the cabinetry and carpentry at the club a few years ago when they were trying to get the club ready to open. The man was a helluva woodworker, but his work creating the beautiful equipment in the club was his real gift.

Lately, Damián had been training the "baby Dom," as Marc liked to call him, to wield a bullwhip. The man had finesse with butterfly kisses and Damián doubted he'd want to go any harder on a sub or bottom—not unless she needed him to. Lately, the newest Dom at the club seemed more interested in learning Shibari from Dad.

Damián wondered how Adam and Karla were getting along on their honeymoon. Hard to believe the wedding had been only a couple weeks ago, given all that had happened since then.

Savi and Marisol had happened. His life would never be the same again. He opened the back door of the Nissan and helped unbuckle Marisol, while Savi eased out of the passenger side. She still moved stiffly, favoring her healing rib, but Marc assured him it was just going to take time. There was nothing much they could do. He hated feeling so fucking helpless.

Normally, Damián would be in California for Christmas, but he couldn't leave Savi and Marisol—and sure as hell wasn't going to take them back there. Good thing he'd been able to give his sister Rosa the presents he'd bought and made. They'd left a few days after Savi showed up. He would give them a call later today to see how their day went. He felt torn between two families now. But Rosa and Teresa were healing and Savi and Marisol needed him more now.

The old brick mansion they had fixed up in rejuvenated Five Points held sentinel on this block, it's wrought-iron fence a bit intimidating, but just helped give the club a militaristic feel that fit the Masters at Arms Club perfectly.

Damián motioned for Savi and Marisol to precede him onto the back porch. He didn't expect anyone but Grant and Luke to show up today. He'd told them Savi had no idea half this building housed a kink club, but they were only going to be in the private residence today, so no sense mentioning it.

He braced himself before opening the screen door. Savi would probably roast his nuts if she knew what went on here three nights a week. But it was also Dad's home, at least until he and Karla found a more appropriate place to raise a kid.

Savi held the screen door as Damián opened the inner one into the kitchen. He was assaulted with the smells of the season. Italian seasonings. Ham. Cinnamon.

Leather.

Whoa! Mierda
. He could smell the club's leather all the way out here in the kitchen. Not to mention a little sweat. He'd never noticed it before, but had probably just gotten used to it. He looked down at Savi and saw her cute little nose scrunching up as she appeared to sniff out the unexpected scent as well.