Buried Lies

by Kaylea Cross

  Holding his gaze, she let a few heartbeats pass before parting her lips and rubbing a whisper-soft kiss over the sensitive crown. He made a strangled sound, his fingers flexing in her hair. Her confidence soared. It had been a long time, but she was good at this, at least. Trevor had taught her well.

  Unable to wait a moment longer, she dipped her head and delicately took the swollen head between her lips, gliding her tongue along the sensitive ridge.

  Noah hissed in a breath and released it on a low groan that sent a shiver through her. She was so wet already, empty and aching, but teasing him this way was a pleasure all its own.

  She took him deeper and sucked, flicking her tongue. Caressing and tasting him.

  “Jesus,” he moaned, the muscles in his abdomen standing out in sharp relief.

  She took her time, giving him as much pleasure as she could, drawing it out until it seemed almost like time stood still. Then his hands tightened in her hair and drew her away gently, his breathing harsh over the thud of her heart. “Lie back,” he said, the low command sending more heat rushing through her.

  She was breathless, tingling all over as she eased back and watched him shuck his jeans before he was undressing her with sure, knowing hands. When she was fully naked he stretched out on top of her, pulling a moan from her throat at the feel of finally being skin on skin with him.

  His mouth blazed a path over her throat, his hands cradling and teasing her breasts, drawing her nipples to hard, aching points. She gasped and writhed in helpless pleasure when his lips closed around one tender peak to suck, his hands sweeping her along on the tide of desire while they moved over her body.

  She whimpered when he reached the hot pulse between her legs, her muscles resisting with tension when he pushed her thighs apart and moved his shoulders between them. “Oh, baby, look at you,” he breathed, fingers spread across her inner thighs to hold her open as his mouth descended on her aching bud.

  Warm, smooth heat stroked over her, slid inside her. She gasped, gripped the sheets with one hand and his hair with the other, her hips rising all on their own.

  “Easy,” he whispered, licking and lapping at each tender fold, heightening her desire until her legs quivered before zeroing in on her clit with soft, melting circles. “Let me enjoy you.”

  A garbled moan came out of her, sensation intensifying sharply. She let it build, allowed her body to float higher and higher, until the empty ache inside became too much. “Want you inside me,” she managed, her heart thundering against her ribs. “Please.”

  Noah delivered one last unbelievably erotic lick over her most sensitive spot, then pushed up and reached back for his jeans, coming up with a condom. Poppy came up on her elbows to watch as he stroked the latex down his length, her insides clenching at the knowledge that she was about to feel him inside her at last.

  Moving between her splayed thighs, he leaned over her to kiss her, sliding one hand into her hair while the other gripped her right leg and pulled it out and up slightly. Heat and pressure settled against her core. Swallowing back the flicker of unease, she stared up into his eyes, her heart thudding. She’d thought about this for so long, wondered what it would feel like.

  Noah gazed down at her with a combination of lust and devotion that turned her heart over. Then his grip on her hair and leg tightened, and he slowly sank into her.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed as he filled her, stretching her with each slow motion of his hips. She absorbed it all, including the tiny, initial sting that quickly faded as he moved deeper, seating himself fully within her body.

  His low, ragged groan of pleasure filled her ears. “You feel so good.”

  So did he. Poppy wound her arms and legs around him, and he began to move. It felt nice, but quickly got better for her when he released her leg to slide his hand between their bodies and gently rub her clit. Sighing, she sought his mouth, twined her tongue with his and focused on the sensations she was feeling.

  Noah shifted his weight and changed the angle of his hips, keeping the motion slow and easy, his hand caressing her clit. Soon the glowing spark he’d ignited burned hotter, then burst into flames. Her hands clutched at him, tiny whimpers of need coming from her as he pushed her to the edge.

  She fell over it with a choked cry, clinging to him even as she arched. Noah surged deeper, a little harder. Just when the pulses of her orgasm began to fade, he stiffened, groaned into her neck as his big body shuddered.

  Their gasping breaths filled the room, the gusting wind and pounding rain becoming noticeable. Poppy relaxed beneath him, stroked a hand up and down his spine as she savored the feel of his warm weight, the intimacy of the moment.

  Noah lifted his head, smiled down at her and kissed her before gently withdrawing. “Stay here,” he whispered, rolling to his feet. “I’m—” His words cut off like they’d been severed with a knife.

  Unease registered a split second before she followed his stare down to the telltale smear of blood on her inner thigh.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Her expression was pure guilt as she reached for the sheet, drawing it over her naked body and bent her knees to tuck her legs up.

  Stunned, Noah dragged his eyes to Poppy’s. “Is it…?” Given her reaction, the chances of this meaning she was having her period were slim to none, but he needed to be sure he understood what had just happened.

  Poppy stared up at him with big brown eyes. “Are you mad?”

  Mad? He fought back the insane urge to laugh. He didn’t know what the hell he was, other than shocked—and proud as hell that she’d wanted him to be the first. “No,” he finally said, and glanced down at himself. Streaks of blood stained the condom, too.

  Shit. “Don’t move, I’ll be back in a second.”

  He dealt with the condom and quickly washed up in the bathroom, then got a clean facecloth and soaked it with warm water for her. A virgin. Shit, how had he missed that completely critical detail? And why hadn’t she told him?

  Worried, he went back to Poppy and settled a hip beside her on the bed. She still had the sheet clutched up over her breasts, her eyes anxious as she stared at him.

  “They were wrong about me,” she said softly.

  Her hometown bullies that had made most of her life a living hell.

  Noah swore his heart imploded right then and there. “Yeah, they were. But so was I.”

  “No,” she protested, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. “You couldn’t have known.”

  Maybe not, but he fucking should have. Looking back at things she’d said and done, even her lingering and adorable shyness last night, it suddenly all made sense. He ran a hand gently up and down her thigh. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.”

  He gave her a hard look.

  “I swear. It only stung for a second.”

  Sweet Jesus, he wished she’d told him. He could have made it so much better for her if he’d known.

  He eased the sheet aside, exposing her legs, and gently urged her top thigh to open. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, gently pressing the warm cloth to her tender skin. He wanted to take care of her. Needed to. Hated to think he’d caused her even a moment’s pain.

  She hesitated a moment before answering. “Because I wanted it to be you, and I didn’t want it to be a factor in whether or not you wanted to sleep with me. I also didn’t think you’d be able to tell. I’m surprised I bled.”

  She wasn’t wrong about part of that. He probably would have said no. At least for now. He sighed, trying to make sense of it. She was twenty-six years old. It made sense that she’d waited, considering all she’d gone through back home, but… “Why me?”

  “Because. And I’m glad it was you.”

  God, she was stealing more of his heart from him every time she opened her pretty mouth. “I wish I’d known.”

  She frowned. “Why? Why does it matter?”

  “Because it does.” Being a woman’s first was a big deal. Or at least, it should
be. It was to him. “Because…because I would have done it differently.”

  Her lips curved in a tender smile. “I liked it exactly the way it was.”

  He grunted. If he’d known he would have been slower. Gentler. At least made her come before easing inside her. And shit, knowing he was the first to be inside her had triggered some caveman part of his brain he wasn’t particularly proud of. If he’d known the truth beforehand it might have pushed him over the edge the moment he’d slid into her.

  Her smile faded, and uncertainty crept back into her eyes. “Are you still upset?”

  Noah set the cloth aside, shook his head and reached for her. “Just come here.”

  She sat up and went into his arms, snuggling into him with a deep sigh. Making his heart roll over in his chest.

  He groaned, hugging her tight. Christ, what she did to him without seeming to try or even be aware of it. He’d suspected she’d had more surprises in store for him, but he’d never imagined this being one of them. And now he felt even more protective and possessive of her. He loved how she fit into his body and his life, was honored that she’d trusted him enough to be her first. She’d wanted him that much, and no one else. It was heady as hell.

  “Do you want a shower?” he asked. He’d get in with her, make sure he pampered and took care of her.

  “No. I don’t want to move at all.”

  Aware of the invisible cables winding tighter around his heart, Noah cupped her jaw in his hand and kissed her. She opened for him immediately, allowing him inside to stroke and taste. A slow, thorough claiming. She was his now, and he wasn’t letting her go.

  His phone rang from the kitchen.

  He broke the kiss, squeezed her tight again as he glanced at the bedside clock. It was after ten. Whoever was calling, it was probably important.

  “Go answer it,” Poppy said, sliding off him and giving him a little smile even as she pushed at his chest.

  It was damn hard to leave her like that, naked and curled up in his bed, her honey-colored hair tousled around her shoulders and the sheets bunched around her waist, exposing those gorgeous, full breasts. “All right, but only because I’m sheriff,” he muttered.

  Dragging his jeans from the floor, he slid them on and hurried to the kitchen. The ringing stopped as he entered the room, but the call display showed dispatch. Frowning, he called them back. “This is Buchanan.”

  “We just got a call from Molly Boyd’s neighbor,” the woman said. “Apparently her ex just tore up her driveway in his truck, violating the restraining order.”

  Noah’s gut dropped. There was no telling what state Carter was in. “Dispatch two deputies. I’m on my way.”

  He raced back into the bedroom to grab his shirt, socks and work boots from the closet.

  “What’s wrong?” Poppy asked from behind him, sounding worried.

  “Trouble at Molly’s.”

  She gasped. “Oh, no, is it Carter?”

  “Looks like.” He grabbed his holstered weapon from the shelf and turned back to Poppy, still on the bed. “Stay here, where I know you’ll be safe. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Call Sierra and Beckett for me, okay?”

  She nodded and climbed off the bed to hug him, the sheet clutched around her. “Be careful. And if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

  “I will.” Tipping her chin up with one finger, he stole one last kiss before hurrying out the door.

  ****

  Molly lugged another box of pots and pans to the front hall and grabbed a stack of newspapers from the kitchen table before tackling the last of the kitchen packing—the dishes.

  She’d taken today and tomorrow off to get the rest of this place packed up, after making the decision to temporarily move into a place Beckett’s company had just finished renovating. The owner was taking possession of the house in two weeks, but he was letting her stay there in the meantime until she could find somewhere else to go. She wasn’t safe here, physically or emotionally. There were too many memories. She needed a place where she could start over fresh.

  Rain drummed on the roof, a summer storm raging outside, while it was warm and cozy inside. Things had happened so damn fast over the past few weeks. Filing for the restraining order had been tough but necessary, another step toward protecting herself.

  And finally, after a torturous wait, she’d reached the six-month mark of her residency in Oregon and been able to file for divorce. The papers had been couriered to Carter at the apartment he’d apparently been renting a few towns east of Crimson Point, near the I-5. He should have received them either yesterday or today.

  Packing up the kitchen was more depressing than she had anticipated. She’d shipped the dishes out from their house just off base in North Carolina because her grandparents had bought them as a wedding gift.

  She and Carter had shared so many meals together since then, alone or with friends and family, on these very dishes. He’d broken a few when he’d stormed in here the night she’d filed the restraining order.

  She would have sold them except they were too sentimental for her. Sierra and Poppy were coming over tomorrow to help pack the last of the things up, and Jase, Beckett and Aidan were going to load everything and drive it to the rental house. It had a partial view of the ocean, so that was something to look forward to, but she was going to miss the secluded feel of this house tucked away among the towering evergreens.

  She’d thought about moving home to North Carolina, but something had stopped her. She felt like she could breathe here, like she belonged here. And just maybe, when the dust settled and the heartache began to fade, she might be happy here.

  Sipping at her giant cup of peppermint tea Poppy had insisted she take home with her from the Whale’s Tale earlier, Molly wrapped another plate in newspaper. Her stomach was still upset sometimes and she ached all over with fatigue. But at least now she had a reason.

  Tears threatened but she shoved them aside with ruthless severity. Crying wouldn’t make her feel better. It wouldn’t get this place packed up or change a damn thing. She could allow herself a good cry once she was moved and settled into the rental, when she was alone and forced to face the consequences of her actions.

  Over the crinkle of newsprint, she thought she heard the back door squeak open. The mudroom floor was uneven and one edge of the door rubbed slightly on it when it opened.

  She stilled, turning her head toward the hall, listening. Outside, the wind whistled through the trees. Had someone driven up to the house? She hadn’t heard a vehicle.

  Quiet footsteps approached the hallway.

  Her pulse skipped, her fingers tightening on the plate in her hands. “Hello?”

  Carter appeared at the end of the short hallway, a fixed, frightening look on his face. The new locks hadn’t stopped him. His hair was damp and disheveled, his beard unkempt, the shoulders of his shirt wet from the rain.

  Molly scrambled to her feet, alarm streaking through her. “What are you—”

  Her words cut off as he started toward her, his steps measured, expression set. The predatory light in his eyes scared the hell out of her.

  She backed up a step, but there was nowhere for her to go. The only way out was past him or a tight squeeze out one of the living room windows.

  “Stop,” she commanded, holding out her hand. Oh, sweet Jesus. Her phone was in her pocket but she dared not pull it out and threaten to call someone. And if she tried to be sneaky and reach back in an attempt to unlock the screen and call 911, he would see.

  Carter didn’t stop. He kept on coming, one unhurried, deliberate step at a time.

  He’d planned this. Planned every single move he was making.

  Fear raked icy fingers up her spine. She fought to keep her expression calm. “Carter, stop.”

  He walked faster, his boots thudding on the floor.

  Shit!

  She darted a glance behind her, heart pounding in her throat. There was no way she could make it out a window. The only way out
was past him.

  Screwing up her courage, Molly faced him. She feinted toward the living room, and when he moved that way, she seized her moment and tried to dart past him.

  She yelped, her head yanking backward as he seized a handful of her hair. “Let go,” she snarled, reaching up to grab hold of his wrists. It was like trying to pry manacles free.

  He dragged her backward, sending pain exploding across her scalp, and shoved her hard enough that her back hit the wall with a thud. Molly stood there staring up at him, terrified but ready to fight. He’d taught her some things over the years. Things she never would have imagined she would need to use against him one day.

  She thought of the pistol he’d pressed into her hands all those weeks ago on the day he walked out. His voice had shaken as he spoke.

  If I ever come after you or threaten you in any way, I want you to take this, point it at my head and pull the goddamn trigger.

  She’d tried to argue, to make him take the weapon back because she hated them. He’d forced her to hold onto it, his face full of agony.

  You can’t hesitate, Moll. Promise me.

  She’d given the pistol to Jase because she hadn’t wanted it here. Initially he’d tried to convince her to keep it, but when she’d refused, he’d taken it. And even now, even if she’d still had it, she would never be able to point it at Carter and pull the trigger.

  “Carter,” she said in a low voice, battling to hold onto the last shred of calm she had. “Don’t do this. Let me go.” She hated the way her voice shook.

  His eyes glittered with a deep, frightening rage. He was breathing hard, his nostrils flared. “You had them serve me the divorce papers.”

  She swallowed, the muscles in her throat protesting the movement. “We agreed that was what would happen.”

  He loomed over her, his steely arms caging her in. Trapping her. “No. It’s what you wanted. Not me. I told you I wouldn’t let you go. I told you things were changing. But you wouldn’t even give me a chance,” he snarled in her face.